The Nerd Next Door Turned Out To Be The Magic Tower Master - Chapter 70

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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 70
The Brandy stolen from the Duke’s wine cellar was bitter—so strong that it burned the back of her throat the moment she swallowed.
Cecilia nibbled at the Orange that Lien had brought while frequently refilling his glass.
Ever since she’d led him into the Bedroom, Lien had been anxious and restless, accepting each drink she offered without hesitation.
‘Does a Mage not get drunk?’
More than half the sizable bottle was empty, yet aside from a slight flush in his cheeks, he still appeared perfectly lucid.
“I brought the one that looked most expensive. Is it not worth drinking?”
“It is excellent.”
“I’m glad. Do you usually drink often?”
“I enjoy it.”
“…Lien?”
“Yes, I enjoy it very much.”
‘Ah, he’s drunk.’
His non-sequitur responses had seemed odd at first, but now it was clear—he was intoxicated.
Looking closer, she noticed he blinked more slowly than usual, and smiled more often.
‘His drinking habit is to repeat the word “enjoy” over and over.’
Though he never named an object, it was easy enough to guess that the subject was her.
If his gaze had been something tangible, it would have melted sweetly on her tongue the moment it touched her lips.
Warmth crept across her face unbidden.
‘It’s the strength of the brandy.’
Cecilia blamed the potent drink, though she’d only had a couple of glasses some time ago.
She coughed lightly and asked with playful mischief.
“Do you really love me that much?”
“…Yes. So very much.”
Lien nodded eagerly, his face flushed with bashfulness, looking precisely like a boy experiencing his first love.
Thinking back, his confessions had always been like this—his whole body proclaimed the truth, and his certainty was unwavering.
It was almost strange by now.
Her own love had always been lukewarm in temperature; she’d never known such burning emotion.
What did it feel like to care for someone so deeply? How could it even be possible?
Or was it possible at all?
Especially not toward someone who still hid so much, someone she couldn’t fully trust or understand.
“Even though you still haven’t told me the whole truth.”
Cecilia murmured this to herself, gazing down at her glass, which brimmed with liquid, and his, which sat empty.
Her voice was small enough that it might not reach him in his drunken state.
She expected no answer, yet unexpectedly, he replied.
“…I couldn’t because I was afraid of being abandoned.”
…
“I can’t bear it anymore—can’t wait anymore. Not truly.”
His words, exhaled like a sigh, were laden with bottomless despair and sorrow.
Cecilia stared for a long time in silence at the fragile, guttering-candle precariousness of him, as though he might extinguish at any moment.
She rose from the sofa and approached the man with his head bowed. Only when her toes came within reach did Lien tilt his face upward to meet hers.
He wasn’t crying, yet those wavering eyes looked so much like tears that she wondered if it was simply her mistake.
Words crowded at the base of her tongue, beyond counting. But of all those words, there was only one she could speak now, only one she wanted to speak.
“I won’t abandon you.”
Cecilia cupped his cheeks in her hands. His skin, flushed with heat, was warm beneath her touch.
She entertained the thought of losing this warmth. The answer came simply.
“No—I can’t abandon you.”
…
“Because I love you.”
More vast and profound than he imagined, deeper even than she herself had measured.
Drunk, Lien’s reactions were slower than usual. His head straightened from where it had rested against her cool hands, he went rigid for a moment, drew a sharp breath, pressed his lips tight together, and finally let a single tear fall.
“…You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
“After what I’ve done to you, I don’t believe you’d forgive me, I can’t believe you’d care for someone like me…”
“Would you like to verify it?”
Cecilia shrugged and opened her arms wide.
He offered no further protests. He didn’t hesitate. He simply pulled her close with urgency, held her tight, and pressed his lips against hers.
As if endlessly confirming whether he could truly bear this, whether her affection was real.
Cecilia, now beneath him, willingly wrapped her arms around his neck.
Proof might be demanding to give, but she did not refuse it.
Even if the night stretched long and difficult.
* * *
In the quiet bedroom.
Cecilia forced her heavy eyelids open.
As her eyes, accustomed to the dark, blinked, the angelic face of the sleeping man came into focus.
The corners of his eyes, which had shed jewel-like tears moments before, seemed slightly swollen, and the faint scent of Brandy still lingered on his beautiful lips.
‘He’s had quite a lot to drink and is exhausted in every way—he won’t wake easily.’
Cecilia lingered a while longer in the warmth and reassurance of his embrace before shifting slightly.
‘Ugh.’
The evidence of what they’d done was far more persistent than she’d anticipated, and her body felt as though it might shatter.
On unsteady legs, Cecilia barely managed to climb out of bed and hastily pulled on the clothes scattered across the floor.
Though her trembling body cried out for rest, she couldn’t simply fall asleep beside him in peace.
She hadn’t yet achieved the purpose for which she’d deliberately sought out his mansion and plied him with drink.
The purpose was simple enough.
Today, Cecilia intended to uncover all of his secrets.
She already knew that Lien hadn’t revealed everything to her—he’d admitted as much himself, that he was keeping things hidden.
Yet she couldn’t simply wait indefinitely. That much she’d come to feel, time and again.
For instance, inside the carriage returning to Weberdine, when she’d received comfort from him.
[At least I’d like to believe that the people we’ve spent time with are innocent. Though I can’t speak for Kiar.]
[Despite his appearance, he seemed to care about you, Cecilia. Don’t worry.]
She’d pretended it was nothing, yet the doubt that had surfaced then would not be shaken off.
‘…How does Lien know Kiar?’
He’d spoken as naturally as if he’d personally witnessed how the Archbishop treated her.
There were countless such unsettling inconsistencies.
And now, having grown intimate with him, she felt that need more acutely than ever.
Love without trust had only one ending.
Having already accepted his greatest lie, they needed to know each other’s remaining secrets—for both their sakes.
Her resolve fixed, Cecilia slipped from the bedroom, her footsteps silent.
Thus in the deep night, when not even moonlight could be gathered.
The woman, adjusting the shawl that threatened to slip, gripped the worn lantern more firmly. The light it cast was too faint to properly illuminate the darkened corridor, but that hardly mattered.
Her destination wasn’t far.
Standing before the door sealed firmly shut—right next to the man’s bedroom—the woman pressed her hand against her racing heart.
‘Calm yourself.’
She’d confirmed he was deeply asleep. She’d even deliberately prepared strong liquor for him.
Creak.
The space beyond the opening was empty.
As she stepped inside, the lantern’s light reached the walls.
In that moment, she stopped breathing.
[It would be best not to enter this room. It’s not very tidy.]
He’d stopped her with that casual tone when she’d once grasped the handle of this firmly shut door. But she distinctly remembered the distress he couldn’t hide in his eyes.
At the time, she’d dismissed it without concern, assuming it must contain scandalous books or traces of a former lover. But now…
The woman stood motionless before the wall, unable even to blink.
A photograph of “Cecilia” taken during her visit to the Temple; “Cecilia” as a child from the territorial newspapers; biased articles praising “Cecilia” as the saint of this age; and—inexplicably—sketches capturing “Cecilia” in everyday moments.
‘What in the world is this…’
The moment her eyes met those of “herself” in a white dress, smiling brightly, Cecilia stumbled backward.
Thud.
Her back struck something solid. Amber eyes, wavering like a lamp in the wind, stiffened and turned upward.
“…What are you doing here?”
His eyes, darkened to a somber gaze, looked down at her in silence.
“…Lien.”
Sweat beaded across her clenched palms.
Was it shock, or anger, or betrayal. Or perhaps fear.
Her voice, barely forced out, trembled miserably.
“What is all of this?”
She hadn’t screamed or cursed because, whatever his muddled thoughts might be, she believed his nature was gentle—that there must exist even a grain of reason she could accept from him.
The man, whose eyes had reddened as if he wanted to weep, struggled to open his lips.
“I… I did tell you not to enter this room…”
At his words, Cecilia’s brow contorted sharply.
He should have said not to enter a room full of photographs of her, the product of obsession—you bastard.

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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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