Chapter 78

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 78

Chapter Title: Legendary Retainers and the Returned Daughter

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I stared at Paimon with bewildered eyes, and he lifted his chin slightly with an arrogant expression.

"All of them are earth lords who made their fame shake other worlds. Special souls that even ordinary demons struggle to claim."

"If they become my retainers, what can they do?"

He grinned toothily.

"Own the century's greatest strategist, and the world will lie in your palm. His previous lord made two futile journeys just to claim him."

The long-haired youth who had been hiding his smile behind his fan bowed his head lightly.

"A man whose dictionary knows no impossibilities is a peerless general and emperor. If you dream of ruling a great empire, he'll be your finest guide."

The short middle-aged man eyed me with haughty arrogance.

"The angel bearing the lantern is a master reformer, administrator, and healer all in one. Keep her close, and you'll command the finest medical corps in the realm—while forging a system to outlast the ages."

The woman in nurse's garb offered a soft smile.

I gawked at them blankly before turning a stony gaze on Paimon.

"...Why? You don't like them?"

Paimon pressed on, his face flushing with irritation.

"These are truly exceptional souls—"

I thrust Yohan's magic stone straight into his hands.

'Perfect! Amazing!'

I gazed at the trio of prodigies with rapturous eyes.

'Who to pick? Which one!'

But that day, I couldn't settle on a retainer.

Paimon granted me time for careful deliberation, sealing each soul into its own stone.

Once I chose, the other two would fade away naturally, he explained. Then he started clamoring to head back for now.

"I've left the west unattended far too long."

His words rang hollow—his eagerness to craft an instrument from the magic stone and play it was plain as day.

Since all I needed was time to choose, I shared what I knew of long-distance magic circles and sent him on his way.

The next day, I headed for Viscount Dubos's estate.

I'd figured the mood would be sour after Viscount Dubos got chewed out for hiding Yohan's condition, but Lady Dubos welcomed me with the same warmth as ever.

"I'm delighted to see you so often, Little One."

She smiled with pure, unclouded joy—enough to make me feel guilty for no reason.

"Um, this whole business is just awful..."

"It is. Truly tragic. That furry oaf of a Viscount Dubos deserved far worse."

"...Pardon?"

"Keeping it from the parents that their son was hurt? Utter foolishness. If that furry fool and my boys had colluded to stay silent about their injuries, I'd have tanned their hides raw."

She glanced at the two burly men standing by the door.

They stammered, "M-Mother...", flustered, but Lady Dubos just beamed.

It was all to spare me any awkwardness. I accepted her kindness with a smile of my own.

"Come on up."

"Yes."

After escorting me to the second floor, Lady Dubos knocked. Veronica flung the door open.

"Little One—!"

"Hello, Veronica."

"Of course! Come in, come in."

I slipped into her room alone with her.

The place was a disaster.

"Want to see the magic tool I made today? This one's for repelling summer bugs..."

"I want something more fun."

"More fun... Oh, there's one that wipes off makeup automatically. Want to see?"

"No. It's something else I have in mind."

Veronica tilted her head curiously, so I locked eyes with her and spoke plainly.

"Long-distance teleportation circle."

"Ah, Little One, that's impossible. The current circles only manage five kilometers because that's the limit a human body can endure. Push farther, and it twists you inside out, rips limbs clean off, or..."

"Or stunts growth. Like yours, Veronica."

"..."

For an instant, her eyes sharpened with the cunning of a crafty old man.

Paimon had let it slip.

Conversant in every lore, he'd known failed long-distance teleports could produce cases eerily like Veronica's.

"How could you possibly know that, Little One? No one knows what experiment I botched."

"Just a hunch. You're a brilliant mage, after all. Brimming with curiosity, like any good one. I've wondered why no long-distance circles exist—so I figured you'd beaten me to the question."

"...Incredible. Spot on."

"What if we could shield the body for longer jumps?"

"Long-distance wouldn't be a pipe dream anymore. But nothing like that exists..."

I smiled brightly at her murmur.

"It does."

"...!"

She shot to her feet.

'Knew that'd hook her.'

Veronica's failed experiment had frozen her growth. She claimed to love her petite frame, but it couldn't all be bliss.

A touch of kindness had won her over this fiercely—she was starving for company.

I knew that ache of isolation all too well.

And yet, through the pain, she kept tinkering with spells and crafting tools.

Pure passion for her craft.

So of course the promise of redeeming that failure lit a fire in her.

"Little One, tell me what it is."

"Hmm."

"Compensation, right? Take every tool I've made. No—the blueprints too!"

"Don't need those."

"Then, well... the Dubos signet...!"

"Pass. Just one thing I want."

"Name it!"

I took a sip of iced tea, set the glass neatly on its coaster, and met her gaze.

"What I want is Veronica Dubos. You."

Her eyes bulged. She stared, her gaze quivering.

"Just now..."

"Yes."

"It zinged me."

"...Pardon?"

Veronica groaned "Aaaah," crossing her arms to hug her shoulders tight.

"Knew it. First time I saw you in Dur's image stone, I felt it—this is the one!"

"Veronica, calm down..."

She snatched my hand, huffing excitedly through her nose.

"Can I swear fealty right now? It's my dream come true."

"..."

"Please..."

Her plea was so desperate I mumbled awkwardly.

"Sure, I guess..."

Veronica's face lit up like the sun.

Heading back to the castle, I hummed a cheerful tune.

Even after pledging fealty, Veronica kept raving, "Me, swearing loyalty... unbelievable!" Calming her down took real effort, but today's haul made it worthwhile.

I'd told her Elza tree bark could shield the body during transit.

I'd balked at Paimon's tip myself—pure nonsense, I'd thought—but Veronica froze in epiphany.

[Elza tree... Oh! Of course! How did I miss it? Wrong premise from the start—that's why it failed.]

She dove straight into scribbling fiendish equations. Pride swelled in me.

'Perfect. Long-distance circles are as good as mine.'

And as a bonus, the continent's top magic-tool artisan was now on my side!

Just then, the carriage halted. Lea opened the door; I took her hand and stepped down.

"Time for dinner, right?"

"Yeah, with Dad and the brothers."

"Yes."

Hand in Lea's, I headed inside to change.

Something felt wrong, though.

This hour, servants should bustle wrapping up the day, corridors alive—but today, empty silence.

No savory aromas wafting from the first-floor courtyard either, as there always were.

'What's going on?'

I tugged Lea's sleeve, head cocked.

"Lea, anything happening at the castle tod—"

"Sir Shabanol!!"

Someone upstairs bellowed Lea's old knight-days moniker.

No one used it anymore, so I peered up at the railing, puzzled.

'Nos?'

Nos locked eyes with Lea and bolted down the stairs. I'd never seen him so frantic.

Lea tensed, brow furrowing at the grim vibe.

"What is it."

"A girl claiming to be the Fourth Miss. His Grace summons you—now."

What?

'Didn't the baby girl die after that agonizing labor?'

Stunned, I glanced at Lea. Her face had gone rigid.

Her grip on my hand slackened; mine slipped free, her warmth slipping away.

Lea dashed off.

Nos and I chased after.

In the first-floor reception hall stood a middle-aged man clutching his hat—and a girl my age.

Silver hair. Blue eyes.

She bore every Duvered hallmark.

Dad and my brothers wore utterly inscrutable expressions. Beyond words.

Dad spoke to the heaving Lea.

"You saw Lisette and the child to their end. Judge for yourself."

Lea bowed at his curt command and approached the silver-haired girl.

"Your neck... may I see it?"

The girl flicked a glance at her companion; he nodded.

She swept her long silver hair aside, baring a jagged scar at the nape.

Lea exhaled sharply.

"Matches the wound the Miss took in battle."

Her hands shook too hard to even touch the girl.

Dad muttered through parched eyes.

"Mage. Verify."

A gold-robed man emerged from the assembled nobles, placing the girl's hand atop his palm.

A blue invocation flared—then faded.

The mage gasped hotly before groveling low at Dad's feet.

"Duvered blood, confirmed. Congratulations, Your Grace."

"Congratulations, Your Grace!"

The hall's nobles chorused as one.

Dad stared unblinking at the girl. Face a mask, but I could tell.

His knuckles whitened on the chair arm.

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