The Teddy Bear Sends the Insomniac Villain to Dreamland - Chapter 50

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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 50
***
“What on earth is the meaning of this sudden visit?”
In the Reception Room of the Leblanc Mansion.
Seated upon the leather sofa, I cast my words toward the woman opposite with a glacial tone, my expression utterly impassive.
Yet the woman merely laughed softly, entirely unbothered by the piercing gaze I leveled at her—one so cold it seemed to plunge into the depths of an abyss.
“My apologies, Young Lord. It was quite an abrupt visit, wasn’t it?”
The woman, her hair as black as if it had absorbed the entire darkness of night, adjusted her pale blue and white veil with composed grace as she offered her apology.
Her eyes—a mixture of white and ashen grey, clouded like an overcast sky—met my cool gaze directly without flinching.
“If you were aware of how discourteous this is, you should not have come. Ophelia.”
Her name was Ophelia.
A saint of the Casthonia Empire, blessed with a mystical power to divine the fate of nations and receive divine protection.
Her prophecies had never once failed to come to pass.
Ophelia, who had served as the Imperial Court’s oracle since the reign of the current Emperor’s grandfather, was treated with deference by all.
Especially regarding matters of Demon Beast appearances—nearly everyone relied entirely upon her prophecies.
“A matter of grave imperial importance has compelled me to visit with such urgency. I understand your displeasure, and I apologize once more.”
Crown Prince Edwin, who had been surveying the surroundings with apparent indifference until now, interjected.
“Enough, Ophelia. How could the Imperial Court’s oracle repeatedly bow her head to one of its own? What would become of the Empire’s dignity?”
Beneath the gentle suggestion lay a razor-sharp edge.
A warning: do not force the Imperial Court’s people to lower their heads again.
And moreover, a command: cease the pleasantries and begin your business.
There were no fools present, so all understood Edwin’s intent.
Edwin tilted his head with a smirk that seemed to say, “Well then, shall we begin?”
At Ophelia’s soft, flowing smile, she gave a slight shrug and opened her mouth first.
“Very well. The reason we have come today is due to a prophecy, Young Lord Blake Leblanc.”
As Ophelia began to speak, Edwin quietly studied my handsome face.
Finding no sign of agitation in my unwavering expression, he tilted his head with a soft hum.
Soon I replied coldly.
“Another Demon Beast prophecy? I have no need for such things.”
My attitude made it abundantly clear I was utterly uninterested.
“Ahahaha! Still so arrogant—I applaud you. This is precisely why I favor you, Young Lord.”
Edwin laughed loudly, clearly amused by my predictable response.
His youthful laughter shattered the precarious tension like thin ice, filling the Reception Room with its resonance.
Ophelia’s eyes, which had remained composed throughout, trembled ever so slightly at the corners before quickly returning to their serene state.
“Ophelia, do you still wish to deliver your prophecy? I have already told you—Young Lord Blake Leblanc is a swordsman who annihilates all Demon Beasts without need of prophecy, so whatever this is, it will be unnecessary.”
“…”
“Is that not so, Young Lord?”
Edwin set down his teacup on the table, though he did not truly expect a response.
Then he smiled, his eyes narrowing pleasantly.
His voice, soft as melting snow, lingered for a moment before it sounded.
“Your complexion has improved considerably of late.”
“How tedious.”
“I find it amusing. Each time we met, I enjoyed observing how dark the shadows beneath your eyes had grown. Now there’s nothing to see at all.”
Edwin’s gaze sparkled with genuine delight as he turned to Ophelia, as if asking whether this wasn’t fascinating.
“If your condition has truly improved, then I’m glad for it.”
His skill at scratching away with such words and then smoothly recovering was masterful.
Ophelia’s eyes swept across Blake Leblanc’s face—a gaze meant to verify whether Edwin’s words held truth.
Witnessing this, Edwin smiled faintly, convinced that he had told the far more entertaining story.
“You seem quite interested in me, yet your attention is entirely unwelcome.”
“Don’t be so cold. I’m genuinely curious, you see. I haven’t slept properly myself lately. There’s a thought that haunts my mind all day long.”
Edwin toyed with the ring adorning his finger—words whose sincerity remained ambiguous.
Of course, Blake Leblanc offered no response.
Ophelia merely continued to gaze fixedly at Blake Leblanc’s face.
“Well then, if this conversation concerns nothing but the Leblanc Family prophecy, I shall take my leave and enjoy a stroll through the Garden. Would that be acceptable, Ophelia?”
“Just a moment, Your Highness. Didn’t we agree to discuss this matter together with Blake Leblanc?”
“I didn’t come here out of curiosity about the prophecy, you see. Ha ha.”
Without seeking agreement, Edwin gently pushed away Ophelia’s hand as she tried to detain him, and quietly slipped from the Reception Room.
The door closed with a sharp bang.
Ophelia exhaled softly.
Now that Edwin, the Crown Prince bound by his station to maintain at least minimal courtesy, had departed, Blake Leblanc would surely attempt to expel her as well.
No matter that Ophelia was the Empire’s prophetess—she remained merely a ceremonial figure to be received. Strictly speaking, Blake Leblanc held no obligation to show her deference.
And indeed, the dismissal came swiftly.
“You should leave. Arriving unannounced and rummaging through my estate is most inconvenient.”
“I didn’t come here to rummage about. The Crown Prince may have departed, but I have duties to fulfill. This prophecy required direct delivery.”
“What is your true purpose?”
“My, how you jump to conclusions. I am a prophetess. I despise murky schemes above all else. I prefer clarity and light.”
Irritation flickered across his violet eyes. He cared nothing for whatever this charlatan woman prattled on about.
His attention was wholly consumed by thoughts of Vivian, who must be somewhere within the estate.
The Crown Prince would not search every room, but the matter concerned Vivian.
She might appear unexpectedly at any moment and catch his eye.
“You don’t seem particularly curious about the prophecy.”
Blake Leblanc, offering no reply, glanced briefly at his watch. It was already past three in the afternoon.
At this hour, she would likely be near the Apple Garden.
“It concerns the Leblanc Family prophecy.”
“Have you finished?”
“…I beg your pardon?”
Rising from the sofa, he brushed away the wrinkles from his clothing with sharp taps. He folded back the cuffs of his immaculately pressed shirt without a single crease, then gestured dismissively.
“I shall take my leave now.”
“Blake Leblanc!”
Unable to restrain herself, Ophelia raised her voice and rose to follow him.
Ophelia clutched her beige dress in both hands as she hurried after him with urgency.
“Please, hear me out! The Divine has spoken—calamity will befall the Leblanc Family. Shrouded in darkness, someone may perish.”
Blake stopped abruptly at her words.
Thinking she had moved him, Ophelia pressed forward eagerly.
“The prophecy foretells danger approaching the Leblanc Mansion. That’s why I came myself to deliver this warning, consumed by worry.”
“….”
He offered no response, yet Ophelia remained resolute.
“The prophecy has already begun. Haven’t you noticed the suspicious rumors and strange changes pervading the mansion?”
Blake hesitated.
Suspicious rumors and changes in the mansion.
Was she referring to the gossip about me carrying a teddy bear, and the Leblanc Mansion growing progressively brighter as summer deepened?
It was almost laughable—how the framework of “prophecy” blinded one to the actual truth.
If this was what prophecy amounted to, it hardly deserved credence.
“I must personally purify the aura enveloping this mansion myself. I know you’ll despise it. Still, whether through purification talismans or purification rituals, they’re necessary. Otherwise, there will be a price to pay.”
And now she wanted to visit the mansion directly to perform the purification.
‘I’m curious what scheme lies beneath this.’
Ophelia was a woman with a dark heart. She might deceive others, but she could never deceive my eyes.
Though I couldn’t discern her exact intentions, one thing was certain: the saint was eager to tour the Leblanc Mansion.
“A price, you say….”
Blake drew out his words as if pondering, then smirked with a slight curl of his lips.
It was unmistakable mockery.
“Whether I heed the saint’s prophecy or not matters little to me. Life before receiving the prophecy was scarcely different.”
“But…!”
“A cursed family beset by further calamity and danger—how fitting. Leave it be.”
Ophelia was taken aback by his colder rejection than anticipated.
She had expected him to at least feign interest in a prophecy concerning his family, yet Blake dismissed even that.
He grasped the door handle as if he had no need to hear more.
Ophelia bit her lip firmly, clenching her fists. Her ashen eyes darkened.
Then, Blake, standing before the door, slowly turned his head and spoke to her.
“Ah, now that I think of it, there is something I’d like to ask.”
“…Of me?”
Ophelia, unprepared for a question in return, hesitated briefly before nodding as if to invite him to ask.
“Do you recall the Demon Beast that appeared in the Capital recently?”
Ophelia, finding peace again at the familiar topic, swept her veil back over her shoulder.
“Yes, of course.”
Then Blake, regarding her with a meaningful gaze, asked:
“Have you also heard that among them, there was a peculiar Demon Beast?”
“A peculiar Demon Beast, you say….”
“Come to think of it, I haven’t mentioned this to anyone, so it’s understandable you wouldn’t know.”
Blake stroked his chin thoughtfully before slowly parting his lips to speak.
“We haven’t confirmed the exact individual yet, but there’s supposedly a Demon Beast that devours human hearts.”
“…Ah. Good heavens.”
Ophelia, who had paused momentarily, shuddered before exhaling a belated sigh.
“Is it a Demon Beast not mentioned in the prophecies?”
Ophelia shook her head firmly.
“Not at all. I’ve never seen it.”
“I see. Since we haven’t captured the heart-devouring Demon Beast, I cannot show it to you, but it will reveal itself again someday.”
“I’ll examine the prophecies carefully. If anything similar appears, I’ll scrutinize it with particular attention.”
“I wonder. Aren’t prophecies useless if they come too late? I’m beginning to question whether they’re of any help at all.”
“….”
Only then did Ophelia realize that Blake had posed his question not to seek her counsel, but to mock her.
Unable to hold him back against such sharp hostility, Ophelia quietly retreated.
After the brief confrontation ended, Blake turned toward the door of the Reception Room, but she spoke gently to his departing back.
“If the Young Lord would lend ear to my prophecies going forward, I believe I could offer you the assistance you desire.”
Blake closed the door with a sharp bang without responding.
***
And elsewhere.
“Haha, this is quite amusing.”
“….”
I stared at the pale pink, coarse hair fluttering right before my face, tickling my cheek.
“I thought the newspaper was spouting nonsense, but it was real. I’m glad I followed along despite Ophelia being so troublesome.”
With each blink, sky-blue eyes gleamed with a warm hue.
It was a beautiful face no matter how many times I looked at it, yet I couldn’t even draw breath.
“Blake Leblanc’s cherished plaything, no less. How intriguing.”
Blake!
I called out to him in my mind with all my might.
I’m so tired of being kidnapped!
Come rescue me!

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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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