I had invited Miku to the party, but as soon as I ntioned that it was a posh event, she looked disgusted. I had hoped she would appreciate the invitation, considering it was a rare opportunity for people like us.
In the end, I attended the party alone, which didn't bother much. I briefly considered having Bear, my coworker and fellow exorcist, attend in a dress. Despite how funny that would be, however, I didn't want to subject him to that humiliation. Bear was a dependable worker, trustworthy, and desperate enough that he would probably actually agree.
The party took place in a mansion at the center of town, its expansive yard making the surrounding towering apartnt buildings seem insignificant. I hired a coach driver to take there, and upon arrival, I noticed others arriving in their own luxurious carriages.
So people glanced at , whispering and snickering among themselves. I didn't pay much attention to their judgnt and generously tipped the coach driver with three gold coins, which I assud was a substantial sum by local wage standards. He thanked relentlessly and rode off.
A noble man in the company of a woman, possibly his girlfriend or fiancee, approached with a malicious glint in his eyes. It seed he wanted to impress his companion. He was built like he practiced so fighting style, probably sothing posh, like fencing.
"Hmph, you arrived in a rusted rented carriage," he remarked.
I glanced at the departing carriage. "I didn't see any signs of rust."
"Leave before you embarrass yourself," he commanded.
I t his gaze and shrugged. "You talking about ? I'm not embarrassed." Then, I turned to a passerby, nudging him gently. He looked at , puzzled, and I asked, "Are you embarrassed?"
"Huh?" The poor guy appeared confused, but he quickly retreated when he noticed the imposing figure.
"See, he's not embarrassed either.
"Hey, I'm talking to you! Who do you think I am?!" He raised his voice, capturing everyone's attention. He reached for my shoulder, but I stood my ground, keeping my hands in my pockets.
'Carpy, if he touches , cut off his arm.' I sent an Ord signal to my underground familiar, hoping he understood the intended ssage. He might misinterpret and aim for the neck, but I wasnt too concerned.
I despised these nobles. While I couldn't assu they were all the sa, most of them were worthless like this guy.
Before he could make contact, a middle-aged fat man grabbed his arm. "Ah, Lord Ko-... Sorry, Lord Nok, I'm glad you're here."
The man had long, feminine hair and cheeks so plump that his eyes were almost closed.
"Governor, good to see you," I greeted him with a smile, but I didn't extend my hand or engage in the usual formalities.
Only a handful of people here knew my true identity, and the town governor was one of them. Although I never explicitly revealed it, he had assisted in concealing my identity on official docunts.
"Gallert, go to the basent and fetch a good bottle of wine," the governor commanded the young man whose arm was almost severed.
"But uncle, I have a girl-"
"Do it now," the governor, who seed to be his uncle, snapped. Once the young man walked away, the governor resud his cheerful deanor, nervously rubbing his hands together. "Apologies for that, Lord Nok. Youngsters these days lack respect."
"No, no, it's fine," I reassured him. "But do exercise caution. Demons these days eradicate the families of those who succumb to the superficial allure of power."
"Y-Yes, sir!" He nodded, his fat neck jiggling and sweat trickling down. Disgusting!
I wasn't going to kill a whole family just because they had one asshole amongst them. But the governor knew what my clan was capable of, and how whole Exorcist Clans had disappeared when they annoyed my family. So noble family in the sticks was nothing compared to the people like my clan.
"Anyway, you can screw off now before you drench in sweat," I waved off the fat man.
The bastard only acted ek like this with people like , otherwise he was an asshole through and through. Asshole relatives like that don't just show up out of nowhere, they were taught to think they were more superior to the 'peasants'.
But I wasn't here to start so democratic revolution, I already had more than enough on my plate. I will leave shit like that to so other guy.
The inside of the mansion was bright, and despite how the place was filled with human garbage, it still looked quite nice. Though what stood out was how most of the people were trying to get their chance and talk to a young woman who wore a silky dark dress. She had haunting deep blue eyes, and long red hair.
Wisteria, or Wis for short. She was the country's second princess, and my fiance. I didn't know much about her, as she never appeared in the original story, though her existence was ntioned before. But from the outside, she appeared like the image of royal perfection. She was pretty to look at, polite, and kind. That was all the information I could get my hands on about her.
She had no enemies, or powerful friends, her connections were also almost non-existent as her mother was the king's second wife, who was from an impoverished noble family.
On the other hand, the girl standing behind her. She had dark hair, tied into a long ponytail, and yellow eyes. She t my gaze, and imdiately looked away.
Huh? Did she recognize ?
Yellow eyes, there was one Exorcist Clan that I knew with a feature like that. The Hebi Clan, also known as the Snake Clan, had the natural ability to see Ord in its true form.
They could also see through illusions, and assassins who tried suppressing their Ord. Her Ord was kind of average, but she wasn't that bad for a bodyguard.
Though the Hebi Clan girl wasn't the only Ord user in the party, there was another one on the balcony. She sat alone, sipping her drink. Despite her pretty appearance and the dress she wore, no one dared approach her.
Many nobles were arrogant and foolish, but they were not foolish enough to approach my dear cousin. The Dark Sword Clan, as the guardians of the royal family, had sent soone to ensure the princess t properly. However, their intentions seed too obvious. I suspected they had other sches in mind.
Taking a bottle of wine from a nearby table, I followed behind my cousin and entered the balcony. As I stepped in, the music seed to fade away. Was there so kind of sound-blocking barrier?
"Delia, what a surprise to see you here," I greeted her.
She turned towards , her eyes bloodshot, and her makeup poorly done. Even from a couple of feet away, I could sll the alcohol on her breath.
Glasses? Again with the stupid disguises? she scoffed.
I chose not to address her anger and instead raised an eyebrow, questioning her silently.
"Never thought I'd see you in a dress. You look fancy," I said, attempting to divert the conversation away from insults.
"Yeah, being born a damn woman. Wearing dresses is apparently all I'm good for," she muttered under her breath.
"Co on now, you excel at other things too. Like killing, torturing, and stalking," I teased, hoping to lighten her mood.
"You and your stupid jokes. You never stop, do you? Always the fucking favorite just because you were born with a dick!" Delia yelled, hurling her wine glass towards . Her eyes widened in surprise at her own actions.
I could have easily dodged the glass, but instead, I allowed it to hit , splattering red wine on my suit and leaving a bleeding cut on my forehead. It seed that sothing small like this might distract her from whatever was troubling her.
"I... I'm sorry," she apologized, her gaze dropping as she searched for sothing to cover the cut. "I didn't an to do that."
"Don't worry about it," I reassured Delia, pulling out a handkerchief to tend to my bleeding wound.
In that mont, Delia slumped to the ground, her back resting against the balcony, and broke down in tears. "I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I'm just a complete ss. No matter how hard I try, I always end up screwing things up and making them worse."
Part of empathized with her; after all, she was only nineteen, on the cusp of turning twenty. At that age, I was studying at a college my parents had insisted would guarantee a successful life. But it was all a lie. And in a way, I couldn't entirely bla Delia.
Through my connection with the original Kon's mories, I understood the difficult upbringing she had endured. Given her circumstances, how could she have turned out any differently? Yet, I refused to excuse her harmful actions by attributing them solely to her past traumas. She derived pleasure from killing.
Her father, I assud, had never even shown her an ounce of affection. He was the type of man solely focused on strengthening the family's power, undoubtedly carrying his own twisted story of how he beca that way.
How on earth was I supposed to handle a psychologically disturbed young woman entangled in a web of murderous family drama?
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