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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Peptobismol]
[Proofreader - Demon God]
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Chapter 19 - Clue
Lloyd blinked as he lay on the bed.
The pitch-black darkness that had filled his vision dissipated like scattering pixels.
A stark white ceiling.
'I must have collapsed.'
Memories from just before he lost consciousness resurfaced in reverse order.
He had leaned against the Duchess's body. His body had swayed. The reason for the sway was the mark on his forearm turning completely black.
'The mark of the Blood Cult...'
Lloyd glanced down at his left arm.
The mark was a vivid black.
Voices echoed around him.
"Did you hear? 'That person' is coming to the mansion."
"Hey, shh. Don't you know you shouldn't mention that name carelessly? You've been a maid here for months and still lack discretion."
"But it's just us here; it's fine."
"That boy over there is here too."
Lloyd hastily closed his eyes.
After a brief silence, the maids resumed their chatter.
"He’s been unconscious for quite a while. The Duchess must be quite taken with him, even ordering us to nurse a boy bought from an auction."
"He's handsome, isn't he? Well-built, too."
"Oh my, Dorothy. Your type is little boys?"
"Come on. He's not a boy but a young man."
"Oh dear, listen to her!"
Lloyd resisted the urge to frown.
More than that, he wanted to know who 'that person' was.
'I need a variable.'
A variable to escape this mansion.
Choosing Duchess Gray at the auction was the lesser evil to avoid falling under the "Three Heroes." There seemed to be much to gain as well.
For example, leveraging the Duchess to check the power of the "Three Heroes."
Therefore, Lloyd was curious about who the 'that person' visiting the mansion was. The maids were making a fuss; it had to be someone significant.
"...Anyway, be careful not to speak recklessly about that person. Remember, in the lineage of Estrid, even mentioning a name carelessly is a sin."
"Tch, aren't they all just people with red blood?"
"You really! The head butler warned us to watch our tongues!"
"The head butler isn't coming here anyway. Ouch! Why did you hit me?"
"Get a grip. The higher-ups can see and hear everywhere in this mansion."
Slap.
One maid jumped around after getting smacked on the back.
They soon composed themselves and resumed tidying the room.
- Knock, knock.
A knocking sound echoed.
"Head Butler."
The maids bowed their heads, and Lloyd heard footsteps approaching.
Lloyd slowly turned his head.
A man with a deep veil covering his face stood there.
"Rise, Lloyd."
It was an elderly man with a deep voice. However, his straight posture and robust build exuded an aura rivaling any strong individual.
Most notably, there was a subtle scent of blood. Given his lack of unnecessary adornments, he likely had a ruthless nature.
Lloyd rose from his place and followed the old man.
As they passed, the maids bowed their heads.
Slice.
One of the maids' tongues split at the tip.
A belated scream echoed.
"This is your last warning."
Drip.
The head butler stepped over the pooling blood without hesitation. Ortega stirred wildly at the sight of the spilling blood. For some reason, his voice was vividly clear.
'Damn it.'
A wave of nausea rose.
◆
Believing that one has complete control over oneself might be an arrogant misconception.
Even so, Lloyd thought he managed himself well.
Whether it was the incessant applause echoing in his head.
Or Ortega's voice.
Or perhaps the peculiar atmosphere unique to the mansion.
Amidst all these forms of mental assaults.
But today felt different.
His eyes were unusually sore, and his mouth kept drying up.
Ortega's voice pounded loudly in his mind.
What could be causing this?
'...Maybe it's because of the mark.'
The mark engraved on his arm. It's a symbol that appears when one consumes the Blood Cult's Gu worm. Although Lloyd had consumed it, he had digested it. Yet, the mark appeared. Thanks to this, he could avoid suspicion of not absorbing the Gu worm, but it was puzzling why the mark had formed.
There was an advantage.
"Sit here."
In the Duchess's office.
The Duchess tapped her pristine white thigh.
Lloyd frowned.
"I'm not a five-year-old child; it wouldn't look appropriate."
"Hehe. You're quite something. Even with the mark so darkened, you can refuse my orders."
"...Thank you."
In some way, he seemed to be earning points with the Duchess.
Maintaining a good relationship with her was crucial.
She was the queen of this mansion.
Swish.
The Duchess crossed her legs, pressing her thigh against the chair.
Without bothering to lift her dress, she spoke.
She got straight to the point.
"The Imperial Princess is coming."
Lloyd instinctively furrowed his brows.
When he thought of the Imperial Princess, Aina came to mind first—the former comrade who betrayed him.
"I can see you dislike the heroes. It's evident on your face."
No need to hide it.
"They lack quality."
"Anyone hearing this might think I'm commendable."
"Your ambitions are grander."
The Duchess unfolded her fan, hiding her mouth.
With a chuckle, her shoulders shook.
"Now I see you're good at flattery."
Indeed, it was flattery.
He needed to win over the Duchess.
At least to the point where she'd act on his advice.
Lloyd's current goal was clear.
Make the Duchess seek his counsel.
Lloyd bowed his head.
"I only speak the truth."
No one dislikes flattery.
Some might be wary of it.
But the Duchess had little reason to be wary of Lloyd.
He was already a boy whose Blood Cult mark had blossomed.
A smirk formed on her lips.
"I really do like you. I have a good eye for people."
"I'm merely grateful to have caught your eye."
"Oh my."
She chuckled, crossing her legs the other way.
She continued.
"The guest coming is not Aina, the 2nd Imperial Princess, but the 3rd Imperial Princess, Yulia."
Only then did Lloyd recall.
The 3rd Imperial Princess, Yulia.
She had little influence.
To be precise, while she had a significant presence, she exited the story quite early.
That's because she plotted a rebellion within the royal family and, despite nearing success, met her end.
Later, she vanished entirely from the royal lineage.
It seemed abrupt that she attempted a rebellion...
'So she was entangled with the Duchess.'
The political landscape of the empire rapidly changed after the rebellion. Taking advantage of the chaos, Duchess Gray and the Blood Cult expanded their power. It was a pivotal event.
Now, the truth became clear.
The Duchess's influence was evident.
The Duchess slyly narrowed her eyes.
"Do you know anything about the 3rd Imperial Princess?"
"I only know that she’s far from the line of succession and appears to lack ambition."
"Half right, half wrong."
"How so?"
"She's indeed the least favored among the five successors. But she does have ambition—for the throne."
"She's lying low, waiting for an opportunity?"
The Duchess laughed at Lloyd's response.
"Exactly. When I invited her to the mansion, she eagerly accepted."
"She probably wants to expand her power base."
"Indeed. What do you think I should do today?"
It worked.
The Duchess was finally seeking his advice.
Instead of clenching his fist, Lloyd swallowed.
From here on, it was crucial.
What kind of advice would set the stage?
Even though they were conversing privately, the Duchess wielded significant power. Apart from being a high-ranking member of the Blood Cult, she greatly influenced the royal family.
Lloyd pondered.
How should he set the board to his advantage? And in which direction should events flow to escape this mansion?
"It would be best to foster intimacy."
"Is that so?"
"Though she lacks resources, her ambition makes her easy to manipulate."
The Duchess seemed pleased, fluttering her fan.
Lloyd continued.
"Moreover, in the empire, only the Estrid lineage holds true nobility. As you know, lineage is..."
"A mandate."
When Lloyd nodded, the Duchess smiled. For a moment, it seemed Lloyd stood above her—a psychological upper hand subconsciously ingrained. Careful not to reveal this, Lloyd bowed his head.
"It would be wise to spare no support for the 3rd Imperial Princess. She's a valuable card you can control, and her lineage alone holds significant meaning."
Though it sounded like advice, it was a logically structured command.
The temporary and subconscious hierarchical dynamics Lloyd had crafted would make the Duchess nod.
"That sounds good."
The Duchess nodded and stood.
She approached Lloyd.
Swish, swish.
Her long, cold fingers touched his head.
As she stroked Lloyd's hair, the Duchess smiled.
"I'm glad I bought you."
Lloyd willingly bowed his head to her.
"It's an honor."
Lloyd was ready to bark if the Duchess commanded—at least until he met his new master, the 3rd Imperial Princess.
He gladly enjoyed the Duchess's touch.
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Peptobismol]
[Proofreader - Demon God]
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