"Master... I..." Aris felt herself getting drawn into Lathel’s eyes, her heart pounding so fast it felt like it was about to burst from her chest.
Lathel smiled, gently caressing her cheek as he said, "Aris, I have a task for you. But... it might be a bit difficult."
"Master!" Aris imdiately responded, "I will do it for sure. I will not let you down."
Lathel gave a small nod. "Good. That’s the attitude I want to see."
He teasingly touched her high cheekbones, then tapped the tip of her nose with his finger and continued, "Get close to him. Help him and Lucien build a powerful faction within the academy. Understood?"
"Ah! Yes, Master." Aris bit her lip, overwheld with happiness. She had no doubts whatsoever about Lathel’s command.
Lathel leaned in, bringing his face closer to hers. Her heart pounded even louder, as if it was going to explode.
"Do exactly as I say... First, you need to..." Lathel began whispering into Aris’s ear.
Aris pursed her lips, trying to focus on his instructions, but her heart and mind kept drifting into strange thoughts, making it difficult to concentrate.
Several minutes passed, and she finally managed to commit everything to mory. But at the sa ti, she also realized that her lower body had grown damp.
Lathel noticed her expression, fully aware of what she was feeling and thinking. He chuckled and said, "Very well. If you complete this mission well, I... will reward you."
When Aris heard the word "reward," her heart skipped a beat. Her face flushed, but her eyes were filled with anticipation.
"To serve Master is an honor and a joy. I dare not ask for anything more." Aris lowered her head as she spoke, her voice slightly trembling—but her feelings were, of course, perfectly clear to Lathel.
With a flick of his hand, Aris bowed and silently withdrew like a shadow.
Lathel remained seated, a satisfied smile playing across his lips.
"Why don’t you just kill him now?" Evelyn’s voice suddenly echoed in his mind. "With your strength, I’d wager Lucien would be dead within a day."
Lathel didn’t respond imdiately. He rely shook his head and poured himself another cup of tea.
His movents were graceful and refined, like a true aristocrat.
No—he was Lathel, a true prince.
He took a sip of tea, gazing at the rippling surface within his cup, and chuckled. "If it were that simple, I wouldn’t have needed such an elaborate plan."
"But he’s... quite special."
Evelyn asked, confused, "How special could he be?"
"To the point that..." Lathel replied calmly, "Even if I brought the entire royal army and Catherine to kill him right now, I’m not sure I would succeed."
"Why?" Evelyn was genuinely surprised. "Are you mistaken? He’s just an ordinary person. Even if he beca an Awakened, there’s no way he could’ve progressed that quickly."
"Or... does he have so terrifying background?"
Lathel shook his head and replied, "No, he doesn’t co from so grand lineage, nor does he possess any special talent. It’s just that... he’s protected by the Goddess of Fortune and Fate."
"Could it be..." Evelyn muttered.
Lathel instantly caught her words and asked, "Do you rember sothing about this?"
He asked because he suspected Evelyn knew more than she let on—it was just that she had forgotten.
After all, she was an ancient soul residing within the ’Destined Weapon’ of a villain. She certainly couldn’t be useless.
"Yes," Evelyn admitted. "Ever since I saw the Dark Mist, I’ve started recalling fragnts of my mories... including mories about the so-called Fate Holders."
Lathel frowned. "Explain it more clearly."
Evelyn fell silent for a mont, as if organizing her thoughts. Then she slowly said, "A long ti ago, the flow of fate was shattered by the wars between gods."
"The stream of destiny fragnted into shards—shards of fate—that fell to the mortal world. Those chosen by these shards were burdened with great missions, and more importantly, they were protected by the Goddess of Fortune."
"Everyone called those chosen by the shards... Fate Holders."
"However, I can’t rember where that term originated from. I only recall that, in the era when I was alive, there was a man who specialized in hunting Fate Holders—and he used as his weapon."
"The term ’Fate Holder’ was what he used to describe those people."
"That’s all I can rember."
Lathel frowned as thoughts swirled in his mind. Of course, he didn’t believe Fate Holders were that easy to kill.
They were like protagonists, shrouded in luck and destiny. If they could be slain easily, then most novels would end after just a few Chapters.
What really intrigued him... was Evelyn’s forr master.
"That person hunted Fate Holders?" Lathel thought. "Interesting. It seems fate still moves according to its own will."
He asked again, "Then... what do you know about the Dark Mist?"
"I... only fragnts of mory," Evelyn said hesitantly. "I just recall that the Dark Mist is tied to so terrifying existence... and also has connections to the shards of fate."
"That’s all I can rember. The rest... I have no idea."
Upon hearing that, a smile appeared on Lathel’s face. He muttered, "Seems like things are more complicated than I thought. But... that just makes it all the more fun."
"I want to see... what this world truly looks like."
Lathel stared into his reflection in the tea, his eyes distant, as if recalling sothing buried deep in mory.
"Lathel! You must survive!" Suddenly, the voice of a middle-aged woman echoed from the depths of his mind. "I can only help you this far."
"You must live..." Her voice trembled, as if she were crying.
She and the young Lathel sat among a pile of foul-slling trash. Pointing at the garbage, she wept and said, "You have to know... this one is edible... this one is not... do you understand?"
He said nothing, just stared blankly at her.
Seeing his silence, she imdiately grabbed a stick and struck him.
Smash! Smash!
"Idiot! Worthless! Why can’t you understand? Why?!" she shouted through tears. "You must know what you can eat and what you can’t!"
"Huhuhu... huhuhu..." At that ti, he simply lay still, taking the beating, crying as he murmured, "Mom... mom..."
...
"Lathel!"
"Ah!" Lathel snapped out of it at Evelyn’s voice. "Did you say sothing?"
"No, it’s just... you were staring at your tea. Were you thinking about sothing?" Evelyn asked.
"No..." Lathel replied, his face returning to that cold smile of his. "Just rembering so painful mories."
"Painful mories?" Evelyn looked confused. "Soone like you has painful mories?"
Lathel laughed lightly at that. "Right, soone like doesn’t have painful mories. Other people’s pain... is my joy."
He smiled with that sa cold expression—but strangely, Evelyn wasn’t afraid. Instead, she felt sothing odd.
To her, Lathel felt like a drifting iceberg floating in a boundless ocean.
Lonely, cold, and filled with death.
The darkness that blanketed the room only made it feel more desolate and icy.
...
Morning.
Selvia and Mira woke up. Not seeing Lathel, they looked at each other awkwardly.
Yesterday, Selvia had originally intended to tell him that she didn’t mind his relationship with Mira, and wanted to apologize for orchestrating the whole thing.
But when she entered the room and saw Lathel blindfolded—
And with Mira’s encouragent...
In the end... they had done sothing incredibly shaful.
In that mont, she felt like a door to a new world had opened for her. But upon waking, all she felt was regret and embarrassnt—so intense her face felt like it might burst into flas.
"Hehehe..." Mira’s face was also flushed, but she teased with a grin, "Princess, you were really bold last night—there wasn’t a single position you couldn’t handle."
"You..." Selvia was so embarrassed she wanted to crawl into a hole, but then she pouted and said sulkily, "You’re one to talk. It was your first ti too, yet you were even bolder and crazier than . Do you know you nearly passed out several tis?"
"Hehehe... With a Prince that strong, how could I possibly hold back?" Mira replied proudly, without the slightest hint of sha.
"You..." Selvia sighed and shook her head. "Fine. Let’s just call it an accident this ti. But no more of this in the future. I’ll die from embarrassnt."
"Yes, yes, just this once," Mira teased.
Selvia shook her head and said, "Alright, we should get out of bed. The Prince is probably waiting for us."
"Ah! About that..." Mira hesitated. "I... I’m too sore to even stand..."
Selvia: "..."
"You were that wild last night?" Selvia frowned. "You should take care of your health. You’re Lathel’s woman now, and you’ll have plenty more chances."
"Hehehe..." Mira giggled sheepishly. "I got too excited last night and couldn’t help myself."
"Still not up, you lazy kittens?" At that mont, Lathel entered the room with a warm smile.
Mira, who had been brave a mont ago, now shrank like a timid kitten, imdiately pulling the blanket over her face.
Selvia was different. She bead with joy upon seeing Lathel and stood up—but her legs gave out, and she stumbled forward.
Thud!
Lathel caught her in his arms effortlessly and chuckled. "You’re still tired. Rest a bit more."
As he spoke, he pretended to pull out a dicine bottle from his pocket—though in truth, it had been stored in his ’Spatial Inventory’.
Lathel poured out two pills from the small bottle, one for Selvia and one for Mira. With a gentle smile, he said, "These are recovery pills. Go ahead and take them."
Mira and Selvia quickly took the pills. The soreness and fatigue in their bodies vanished by more than half almost instantly.
"Wow! This pill is amazing!" Mira said cheerfully. "Thank you, Prince."
As she smiled, the blanket slipped down, revealing her snowy-white skin and the breathtaking scenery beneath.
Crack!
Just then, the door suddenly burst open.
"Lathel, have you prepared for—huh?!" Lyra’s voice froze halfway through her sentence the mont she saw the scene before her.
Lathel had one arm around Selvia, the other holding Mira close. He wore only a night robe, while the two won seed to be wearing absolutely nothing.
Silence...
The entire room fell into an awkward stillness. Professor Lyra’s face turned beet red, as if it might catch fire. She stamred, "S-sorry!"
BAM!
Lyra bolted out the door, slamming it shut with a loud, echoing bang.
Selvia and Mira glanced nervously at the door, then back at Lathel.
Though Lathel’s expression appeared flustered, in his heart, another thought stirred.
His gaze shifted toward the door with a glint of greed and calculation.
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