The Nerd Next Door Turned Out To Be The Magic Tower Master - Chapter 59

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 59
Cecilia stepped out of the Greenhouse, the Flower of God dangling limply in one hand.
Her body, so long confined to artificial spring, shivered as she walked into the fading autumn—goosebumps rising across her skin.
‘The days have grown so cold.’
She curled her fingertips, feeling the warmth drain from them, struck anew by winter’s approach.
Though her right hand could scarcely manage even that, occupied as it was with the flower.
Cecilia glanced down at the white petals loosely tangled around her reddened fingers.
The method Regina had taught her was simple.
“If the person holding the flower tells a lie, its petals fall. If they speak the truth, it remains unchanged.”
So that was why the petals were scattered so sparsely.
Did each fallen petal correspond to a lie someone had told? How large were those lies, and how much had they wounded the one who heard them?
Lost in such bitter musings, she caught sight of a familiar silhouette in the distance.
There must have been dozens, hundreds of robed mages in the Imperial Palace alone.
Yet she knew with sudden certainty: this was the person she had come seeking.
Whether she had found him or he had sought her out, she could not say.
He appeared startled at first, then stepped back instinctively—only to be drawn forward again, as if pulled by a magnet.
“Lien.”
“I heard you might visit the princess, but I didn’t know it would be today. Are you heading home?”
She studied him carefully—the first time she had seen him since the hunting tournament.
The brightness in his eyes, the curve of his mouth, the flush in his cheeks—he made no effort to hide his joy at seeing her.
Cecilia held his gaze a moment longer, then reached out wordlessly.
“Cecilia?”
Sensing something amiss, he retreated a step—but she closed the distance faster, roughly pushing up his sleeve.
And there, wrapped around his left arm, was a bloodstained bandage.
The same left arm as the masked assailant who had chased her through the forest.
Though she had half-expected it, the flower slipped from Cecilia’s weakened grip and fell to the ground.
“Your arm is injured.”
“Oh, this? I just had an accident. B-but never mind that—what is this flower? The Greenhouse is that way, so… did the princess give it to you?”
Lien fumbled for words and bent to retrieve the fallen flower. Cecilia made no move to accept it, her voice steady and cold as she addressed him.
“Kirien.”
His true name.
“Kirien Dilanshé—that’s your real name, isn’t it?”
The man’s face drained of all color in an instant. His breath caught, and his fingertips began to tremble.
Cecilia accepted his distress as affirmation, though her heart felt hollow.
The false trails—southbound, westbound—planted deliberately in conversation, were not particularly clever traps after all.
Had assassins appeared from the west, suspicion would naturally have fallen on the Emperor or the Duke.
But the appearance of assassins from the south did not conclusively prove Lien guilty.
She did not wish to believe it, but information could have leaked from Miguel. There might be methods of tracking a Saintess that she knew nothing of.
So she had quietly brought another knight, tasking him to confirm whether Lien had been present at the time of the attack, or whether he had been in contact with Dilanshé or the Imperial household.
“He had no contact with Dilanshé. However, at the very moment the Saintess was attacked, his whereabouts became unclear. He was not with the mages of the Magic Tower either—we could not trace his movements.”
His trail vanished at precisely the hour she was assaulted.
Cecilia dredged up all the suspicions she had so long suppressed.
The moment she had seen “that person” in the Banquet Hall. When her eyes had met with the second son of Dilanshé.
Though she could not see his face, though even his eye color was different, somehow she had known. This person might be someone she already knew.
Perhaps because that suspicion had taken root in her mind.
When she had encountered him in the corridor of the Banquet Hall, she had noticed: the shoes peeking out from beneath a gray robe were identical to the ones Lien wore.
Though the robe had changed to black, the height of the man who had stood beside the princess closely matched Lien’s own.
Yet she had desperately hoped it was only the shadows deceiving her. That everything was mere fancy, a terrible misunderstanding.
But…
“Is the Master of the Magic Tower—is Lien—Asilién Chedwind?”
“…Lien is Lien. I don’t understand what you’re asking.”
“Then tell me the name of Dilanshé’s second son.”
When she pressed with certainty, the princess sighed and surrendered the answer with resignation.
“Kirien. Kirien Dilanshé.”
Only then did Cecilia grasp the true meaning of what he had once confessed to her.
“I am Lien, but I am not Lien.”
What had he been thinking when he left those clues? What scheme had driven him to make her doubt, to deceive her to the very end?
The ground beneath her feet seemed to crumble. Her thoughts turned to sludge, her chest twisted. She wanted to scream, to rage, to lose herself entirely.
And yet some corner of her heart still refused to accept this as truth.
For the sight of this wounded left arm struck her with a shock she could scarcely bear.
‘So in the end, you really were Dilanshé.’
‘You deceived me all along.’
“How ridiculous I must have looked, not knowing you were Dilanshé and asking to be your friend.”
Cecilia laughed bitterly.
Whether it was rage or sorrow, her insides churned violently, yet her voice emerged with an eeriness of coldness.
“Coming next to our house in Weberdine—that was to harm me, the Saintess, wasn’t it? But you failed again and again. What will you do about that? Or did you fail deliberately to win my trust?”
“C-Cecilia. Please, I can explain everything. Let me explain right now…….”
Cecilia shoved his outstretched hand away roughly.
She couldn’t bear to listen. If she let herself understand him even slightly through his pathetic excuses, she’d want to strangle her own foolish neck.
Cecilia hurled the shattered Necklace at his feet.
“What is it? Was this Necklace actually a Magical Tool too? I must have looked absurd, wearing something that might have stolen my life without even knowing.”
The words that spilled from her own lips curved back to pierce her heart.
Lien had deceived her, toyed with her, made her a fool—and yet somehow all the shame fell on her shoulders alone.
She was sick of it all now. This world, the man before her, everything—it felt like such a nightmare that she desperately wished she would wake up.
“C-Cecilia. Please, just listen to me…….”
He pleaded in a voice so pitiful that she might have wavered, had she not known the truth.
The moment Lien stepped closer.
“Don’t come near me!”
Cecilia cried out like a scream and took a step back.
If this nightmare would not end, then she had to cut him out.
“Don’t call my name again. Better yet, don’t let me see your face ever again.”
……
“You’ve had plenty of enjoyment from assassination and deception alike, haven’t you? From now on, hand all matters concerning me to your subordinates. Since you’ve played with me long enough, surely if you have any conscience, you can grant me this much.”
Speaking coldly, Cecilia moved to brush past him. But she hadn’t gone more than a few steps before stopping again—Lien, who had rushed after her, had blocked her path.
“Move.”
“I-I’m sorry. I wasn’t approaching to harm you, Cecilia—Lady Weberdine. I was only…….”
“Look, Prince Dilanshé. Unfortunately, I’m tired of that acting pattern now. If you need more practice, don’t inflict it on me—go find some other fool to deceive.”
Cecilia made no effort to hide her contempt as she turned to leave.
“If you knew I was Dilanshé!”
He cried out suddenly, his chest heaving sharply. His trembling hands dragged across his face as he lifted his head.
His voice, thick with emotion, no longer stuttered or wavered.
“If you knew I was Kilien Dilanshé, you would despise me like this. You wouldn’t be able to stay by my side for even a moment!”
……
“No matter how I thought about it, this was the only way. I’m already Dilanshé, which you despise so terribly, and that’s something I can never change. But to see you smile. To speak with you even once. To remain by your side even a little longer. There truly was no other way.”
His eyes, bloodshot and inflamed, blinked. Blood dripped steadily from his clenched fists.
“I’m sorry for making excuses. I’m sorry because everything about me is a lie, because I keep disappointing you, because I’m this damned Dilanshé.”
……
“I know it won’t work. I know you’d hate it. But I loved you anyway. I loved you too much.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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