Chapter 76

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 76

Chapter Title: Hair and Nails for a Decoy

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After finishing his conversation with the duke, Yohan stepped out the door. The eastern annex at noon was quiet. Even the noises seemed swallowed by the deep shadows.

Except for those pattering footsteps chasing after him from behind.

When Yohan whipped around, Leblain froze mid-tiptoe, clutching her skirt hem.

"What."

"Um... that is..."

Yohan eyed Leblain as she stiffly rolled her eyes.

"The sound of your scheming echoes all the way here."

"That's not it!"

"Or is it."

"...Actually, yes."

Leblain's shoulders slumped dejectedly.

"I absolutely wasn't trying to bother you. I just thought, if you're okay with it... really okay... could I maybe get a little of what you have...?"

Her voice sank to a near whisper.

'What could she possibly want.'

If the child wanted something reasonable, his father would procure it without question. And there were Henri and Ishak, who lately seemed half out of their minds. No need to come begging him for anything.

While he sorted his thoughts, Leblain kept stealing glances at his face.

At this point, pure curiosity took hold.

What on earth did she want?

"What is it."

"Nail clippings or some hair."

"...What?"

I wanted to bite my tongue.

'Nail clippings or hair...'

Anyone overhearing would think I was brewing a curse.

But I desperately needed them. They would serve as the medium to borrow a portion of Yohan's magic power.

Paimon, for whatever reason, insisted on—specifically demanded!—Yohan's magic.

I'd tried soothing him by parading Dad, Henri, and Ishak before him, but he claimed their purity fell short of Yohan's and refused.

"Why my hair or nails? Planning a curse?"

"No, that's not it. You're heading to the Academy soon, right? You've been ambushed so many times—how about making a decoy to ensure it doesn't happen again?"

I rattled off the excuse I'd prepared ahead of time. Earlier, getting caught tailing him had blanked my mind completely.

"They said we could make one with nails and hair!"

It was the stuff of legends, but no matter.

'I'm in a child's body, so he'll buy something like this.'

As I gazed at him with sparkling eyes, Yohan parted his lips to speak.

"What?!"

Ishak's voice rang out from behind me.

He rushed over, seized my hand, and yanked me behind his back, scowling fiercely. Henri arrived right after.

"Why's big bro hanging around with the kid? Bullying you again?"

"He doesn't care about anyone else anyway. Just keep ignoring him from now on."

As Henri and Ishak hurled their barbs, Yohan's eyebrow twitched upward.

Panicking, I tugged frantically at their sleeves.

"No! He didn't bully me. I followed Yohan!"

"Kid, why would you? Did big bro give you some kind of signal?"

"No need to pay it any mind if that's the case, Leblain."

That's not it at all!

As I started to protest, "It's not—", Yohan turned on his heel. Without a single word of explanation, he walked away from us.

I stomped my feet in frustration.

"It's not like that! I really just followed him on my own!"

"...Really?"

Ishak asked, while Henri wore a rare stony expression.

Henri gently clasped my shoulder and met my gaze.

"I told you—my brother's dangerous. Never be alone with him."

I let my eyebrows droop and stared at them plaintively. At my sullen look, Henri called out, "Leblain?"

"Yohan doesn't seem like a bad person."

"Kid, big bro has zero emotions—!"

"Last year, when we went to that play with the maids, everyone cried because it was so sad... but I didn't. Does that make me a bad person?"

Ishak faltered. "That's...!"

"Little bro didn't have to deal with those accounting reports from the office today, right? So you had time to read your books."

"...Yeah."

"Youngest bro didn't have to spar with the knights, right? So we got to eat snacks together."

"Yeah."

"Yohan covered for all of it."

"......"

"......"

Wearing a pouty frown, I muttered, "I'm going," and shook free of Henri and Ishak's hands.

Back in my room, there sat a long-haired beauty—no, a handsome man—on my bed, munching away at the snacks with loud crunches.

I shot him a bleary glare.

"My snacks..."

"Not tasty at all."

"But you ate every last one?"

"Boredom drives such acts. You keep me cooped up here instead of letting me roam free."

Otherwise, he'd read my thoughts. Dealing with someone who knew my every inner working was tricky.

But keeping him at a distance had limits. He couldn't stray more than a kilometer from me, and if my condition worsened, people would perceive him as a demon.

'Have to send him back before heading to the capital.'

With that in mind, I retrieved the letter envelope I'd stashed under the bed. It was from Ceria.

'They never displayed Etwal in my previous life.'

Pulling out a mythical artifact to cling to disillusioned believers' hearts—they must be truly desperate.

I examined the picture of the temple's Etwal that Ceria had sent.

'Huh?'

I frowned in surprise.

"What is it..."

"What's wrong?"

"The holy relic looks off."

Paimon sidled over to inspect the picture.

"Etwal?"

"You know it?"

"Of course."

Master of every scholarly pursuit, including theology, apparently. I nodded.

"Yes, it's Etwal... but not like the one I know."

"How so?"

"The original one the temple kept had gems embedded at each corner of the hexagram. This doesn't."

I'd seen it clearly.

When Mina had taken possession of the temple's Etwal, gems glittered at every corner.

I pulled out my own Etwal necklace and showed it to Paimon.

'No gems like on mine.'

Paimon propped his chin on his hand, sitting across from me as if I'd said something absurd.

"No familiar means no gems—perfectly natural."

"What do you mean?"

"Etwal was made to house familiars from the start. Think of it as a warehouse."

I widened my eyes.

"Familiars? You mean the ones conjured from magic or divine power?"

"Real souls. Like a demon familiar. Yours lack any wit, don't they?"

Paimon indicated the small indentations at each hexagram corner.

"You store familiars here. Retrieve them as needed."

My eyes went wide again.

Six indentations total. That meant up to six familiars.

"Souls... so could a demon become someone's familiar?!"

"Naturally. But exalted beings like us can't be bound without consent."

"I see."

"Besides, no user could sustain us. Even you burned through vast divine power just to borrow our might once."

"Then what do ordinary folk store?"

"They turn human souls into familiars. But no human can familiarize another human. Only higher entities like demons provide such souls."

Frowning, I drummed my fingers on the table and eyed Paimon.

"Is summoning demons part of completing the Etwal?"

Paimon's lips quirked oddly upward.

[Only the qualified may converse with me and the baby.]

So that's why Bune said I lacked qualification without an Etwal.

I clutched my skirt hem tightly.

'Mina completed hers too.'

All her insane powers came from demons or familiars.

And the Mina who'd completed her Etwal had grown too strong for even the Pope to handle lightly.

If I completed mine first...

'I'd become the continent's strongest—make Duvered an independent nation in a single stroke.'

My heart pounded.

Paimon met my gaze and cleared his throat.

"Doesn't mean you should eye me."

"Yes!"

"......"

Paimon looked oddly downcast for some reason, but I just tilted my head.

'Tempting as Paimon's powers are, that personality won't bend easily as a familiar.'

Only six slots. Needed truly useful ones.

I linked the communication stone to Ceria at once.

"Gather info on special gems and minerals in the capital. Buy up as many as you can."

[Special gems and ores? Some might demand absurd prices.]

"Doesn't matter."

It was the trading company I'd run to fund Duvered's independence anyway.

"And now, we rake in the money."

Via long-distance teleportation circles.

That night, I snuck into Yohan's room.

As expected, he'd gone to the training grounds. The room lay in perfect silence.

'He changes the sheets before bed, so snag hair beforehand.'

It wouldn't be enough for Paimon's needs, but alternatives were scarce. I'd gather scraps to build a pile.

[At this rate, it'll take forever.]

Paimon's snark earned a mental 'Shut up.'

I eased open the bedroom door with care.

Tiptoed toward the bed...

"Gasp!"

Something huddled on the sofa beside it.

Heart leaping, I froze solid, clapping a hand over my mouth.

But strange.

Human silhouette... yet no reaction?

'Paimon—if anything happens to me, attack at once.'

Edging closer to the sofa, I jolted in shock.

"Yohan!"

Huddled there, face ashen pale, was Yohan. Thick veins bulged from wrists to neck.

For presence-attuned Yohan to enter without a word... this was grave.

"Snap out of it! What do we do—doctor, a doctor!"

As I floundered toward the door, Yohan seized my wrist.

"No...ise. This petty poison... I'll purge it in a week."

"But...!"

"I'm Duvered's... firstborn heir. If my health fails... think how many fools will scheme... one or two?"

True enough.

The vassals' factions stayed intact solely because of Yohan's unassailable position.

'No... surely not.'

I scrutinized his condition up close.

Two lifetimes of temple training had honed my diagnostic eye, appearances aside.

'Bloom poison.'

The kind mercenaries favored.

"Mercenary ambush at the border—you got wounded then, right? Used 'Duvered slighted' as cover to rest here at the castle."

"......"

"Enduring it all this time?"

"Don't... fuss."

"Fool!"

I burst out.

What kind of idiot was this!

Everyone branded him emotionless, dismissive of all value—even his brothers failed to understand—yet he shouldered every burden alone.

Gazing at such a Yohan, my chest tightened, vision blurring over and over.

Yohan regarded me with quiet intensity.