The Status Effect Count - Chapter 22

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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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Abnormal Condition, Count — Episode 022
No matter what answer she gave, it was wrong. There was no getting through to her.
“I… I’m not like that….”
The moment Ann interjected, fire flashed in Ecquem’s eyes. A strong hand seized Ann’s arm and wrenched it upward.
“Aah!”
“Then speak! What did you see that night in the Count’s chamber, and what did you do there?”
Her gaze boring into Ann glinted with fury.
What she’d seen that night?
Ann’s mouth went dry. Belence had told her not to speak of that night to anyone.
Even she herself did not remember clearly what had happened that night, and she understood it was no ordinary matter.
Should rumors spread of the Count’s body hardening like stone and the strange fluids he’d been expelling, her mistress would not be called a hero—she would be called a monster.
As Ann’s pupils trembled, Ecquem’s eyes narrowed.
‘This girl knows something.’
Of course she did. When everyone was fleeing, it was Ecquem herself who had pushed this girl forward.
If something had happened that night, the only ones who would know were the head maid, sitting stiff as a statue with her lips sealed shut, and this girl.
“Speak!”
A sharp crunch—the grip tightened.
“How loud this commotion is.”
Just then, the Reception Room door suddenly swung open.
At the sound of the unfamiliar voice, everyone started and turned their heads.
Beyond the bright Reception Room, the corridor was still drenched in thick darkness.
And from that darkness, a shadow even darker stepped through the threshold of light.
It was not difficult to guess who he was without a word being spoken.
The man who entered wore somewhat casual attire, yet it only seemed to emanate an air of weary arrogance.
“Count Freneta!”
Dern shot to his feet, the name tumbling out like an exclamation.
His terrible black hair suited his beautiful face as if made for it. He was like a great black beast.
The Count’s blue-green gaze swept slowly across the corners of the room.
Each time his eyes touched something, it felt like thrusting one’s neck into a vast, gaping maw.
‘Suffering from pain, half-dead they said. Where in all this?’
Dern swallowed hard. The air hung so heavily that cold sweat began to pour.
Nothing was gripped in the Count’s hands, yet the air itself felt strangled, as if it might burst at any moment, and breathing came with difficulty.
Belence hurried to her feet and bowed respectfully.
“I apologize for the commotion at such a late hour, master.”
“Yet despite such noise, you did not call for me, Belence.”
“I did not wish to disturb your rest over so trifling a disturbance.”
At Belence’s dismissal of all these suspicions as a trifle, Ecquem’s face flushed scarlet.
Dern, regaining his wits, scrambled forward with excessive courtesy.
“Count! I have longed to see you. I beg your forgiveness for my rudeness in not calling ahead.”
“I am already forgiving you, am I not?”
Nadan walked past Dern as though he were of no interest whatsoever.
“When I forgave you for trampling through my household with muddy feet, I thought myself a rather generous master.”
Nadan stopped before Ecquem, his laugh harsh and dry.
“Even now. I still do.”
As his cold voice poured out, Ecquem hastily bowed her head.
Dern, who had followed him, pressed forward.
“Of course, sir! But surely you must also recognize our loyalty and concern, Count.”
“Loyalty and concern?”
“A rumor spreads throughout the entire Empire that wicked servants have confined you, Count, and seek to manipulate you as they please!”
He stooped with a servile expression, his body bent in obsequious bows.
The arrogant demeanor from moments before had vanished entirely; he looked ready to grovel and lick the dust from the Count’s feet.
“My servants have confined me, you say.”
“Indeed so, sir. As a distant branch of House Freneta, how could I ignore such rumors? That concern is precisely why I have come.”
Dern swiftly recalculated his plan in his mind.
He had intended to find the Count’s weakness, but upon actually meeting him, he seemed far more formidable than anticipated.
‘A man like this cannot be handled carelessly.’
He appeared indifferent and maintained a casual air, but he was the sort of man who could withdraw hidden claws at any moment and dispatch an enemy with ease.
In that case, it would be far better to become his ally.
Moreover, were they not relatives by registry, even if not by blood?
‘Of course, since the first knot tied poorly, I shall have to build new merit.’
A scapegoat was already prepared.
“And how convenient—there is a witch right here who has damaged the Count’s health, is there not?”
Dern pointed at Anne without hesitation.
“A witch?”
Anne’s face went ashen, and she tried to hide it.
The Count did not trust Anne. The Favorability Rating on his platter never changed—it remained frozen, unwavering.
From the beginning, he had mistaken her for an assassin and suspected her.
Nothing had changed since then. He would never take her side.
Anne’s hands trembled uncontrollably.
She was nothing but a commoner, a country girl with no notable accomplishments—a novice maid.
It would be far too easy to drive her out with a false accusation.
Whether true or not, she could be dismissed on the thinnest suspicion—a mere accessory to this household, disposable.
‘What do I do? What if no one believes me?’
Anne’s vision blurred white. A deep, suffocating isolation she had not noticed before now flooded through her entire body.
“That’s strange. This girl saved my life.”
“You are being deceived, sir.”
Ecquem lifted her head sharply, her voice firm and resolute.
“Has your health not worsened since this child arrived? Surely she has bewitched you with some sinister sorcery.”
“Sinister sorcery… For instance?”
“Well, that would require interrogating the girl—”
Nadan clicked his tongue.
“You wouldn’t dare speak baseless conjecture before me without a shred of proof, would you?”
Ecquem’s face went pale.
Proof could be fabricated. All she needed to do was search the girl’s room, report something suspicious, and the matter would be settled.
But the Count’s gaze fell sharply—piercingly—upon Ecquem alone.
The person he suspected was not the foreign maid, but her. And if that were true…
“How dare you suspect me! I am House Freneta’s own!”
Ecquem fell to her knees, her voice breaking with anguish.
“I have devoted my entire life to serving this place. Count, please hear my faithful counsel—”
“Yet when your master fell into crisis, you never left the Estate.”
Ecquem’s words caught in her throat, and she stammered.
“I—I only meant to alert someone at once—”
“Alert whom?”
Nadan tilted his head slightly to one side.
It was as though a great predator were toying with prey held between its paws.
“Answer me. Housekeeper. Exactly whom did you inform? Which man did you tell that I had fallen under a Curse and would die?”
“That is… I…”
Ecquem’s eyes darted about in panic. The one she had reported to was the Duke.
Yet to reveal one’s master’s condition to another noble was strange by any measure.
“I—I reported it to the Temple! That there was a demon in the Estate, that there was a Curse—”
“The Temple!”
The Count laughed loudly.
“Which demon did you mean to accuse?”
“Pardon?”
“In your eyes, is there only one dark-haired demon in this room?”
There were two people with dark hair in the Estate.
One was pressed into the ground. The other stood before her.
“It was you who spread rumors among the servants that the Count was a demon, that they would be tainted if they approached him.”
Everyone gasped sharply. Ecquem’s face drained of all color.
“Did you truly believe I would not learn of it, Ecquem? Your scheme in bringing this wretch into my household as a relative?”
“Wr—wretch—”
“What did the Duke command you to do? After trampling through my Estate and destroying it completely? What else did he require?”
…
How much did he already know?
The more those blue eyes gazed at her clearly, the more Ecquem felt as though he could see straight through to the very thoughts reflected in her own eyes.
The Count reached out his hand. In that instant, primal terror washed over her—a fear of something dangerous, something unknown, reaching toward her.
“Ahhhhh!!”
Ecquem scrambled backward and tumbled to the floor.
As she and the sofa went over together, startled servants rushed toward her.
“Come now, Ecquem. If you’re trembling this badly already, we have a problem. I still have much more to discuss with you. We could speak all night, for all I care.”
The Count lifted the sofa with ease.
With one arm he hoisted both the man and the furniture as though they weighed nothing, then leaned close and murmured to Ecquem.
“You’re right. I shouldn’t have come back.”
Ecquem’s face drained of all color.

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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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