Ten days remained until the succession ceremony. Those ten days passed peacefully without any major incidents.
In the mornings, I fooled around with Karen. From lunch until dinner, I took lessons from Hilda and learned all sorts of things. In the evenings, I focused on aura training alone or occasionally dined with Jevella.
Of course, I caused some minor mischief here and there in between. It didn't have much effect, though...
Well, that's fine. The important thing is that, amid all this schedule, I steadily practiced my subtle grip strength without slacking off.
It didn't show at all on the surface, but I could now exert nearly 80 percent of my full strength.
I didn't know just how sturdy the Blue Blood magic tool was, but without any shock-resistance enchantments, it should definitely break.
"Perfect."
"Ahem. Thank you for the praise, Young Lord. It's my first time preparing a man's traditional attire, but I'm glad you like it."
Karen looked me up and down, nodding her head. A subtle sense of satisfaction and pride seeped through her expressionless face.
...That wasn't exactly what I meant, but if Karen's happy, it's all good.
I chuckled softly and peered a bit more closely into the mirror in front of me.
Was it because I'd been eating and living well in House Zahav? My golden hair, which I'd thought shone unnecessarily even back in Calypso Territory, had become even more vibrant.
My skin, tanned brown, had a healthy glow to it.
But that was just my usual face. What mattered was the outfit draped from my neck down.
It wasn't a comfortable tunic, nor was it some stiff uniform that looked stylish but fit the Young Lord's status uncomfortably.
It was loose-fitting clothing that draped generously. Essentially, it was like wrapping fabric around myself and cinching it at the waist.
The white base layer overlaid with high-saturation red fabric was impressive in itself.
Adding gold necklaces, rings, and all sorts of jewelry completed the harmony.
How should I describe this...? Right, it felt like an ancient desert king.
This was the traditional southern attire, the ceremonial robe I had to wear for the succession ceremony.
From before the south was incorporated into the empire. A remnant of the time when House Zahav ruled like actual kings, not just grand dukes.
Seeing myself in the mirror, dressed in this antique yet ornate garb, made it start to feel real.
Am I really about to become the patriarch of House Zahav like this...?
Of course, my intention to escape House Zahav hadn't changed.
Even if I somehow got through the succession ceremony, my fake identity would eventually be exposed. And even if not, I wanted to travel around the empire.
To do that, first I had to naturally shatter the magic tool and pass the proof ritual.
Maybe because of the special training over the past ten days. Just thinking about it made my fingers twitch instinctively.
As I made a motion like gripping something fist-sized, Karen flinched beside me.
"Young Lord...? What was that motion? It's unseemly, so it's forbidden during the succession ceremony."
"Huh? Oh, this? It's nothing. Just a bit of preview practice, you could say."
"Pre...view practice, you say?"
"Yeah. Preview practice. Once the succession ceremony ends and I officially inherit the grand duke's position... then I can give you all sorts of orders, right, Karen?"
"Th-that's..."
"You said it yourself, Karen. I'm not the Grand Duke of Zahav yet, so I can ask you for favors but not give orders. In other words, after the succession ceremony, I can give orders, right?"
"...Urk."
"Let me think. What should be the first order I give?"
Saying that, I grabbed her chin and lifted it, scrutinizing her face closely from various angles.
For a moment, Karen's impassive eyes narrowed slightly.
But soon, she gave up even that faint resistance and docilely let me handle her face. ...What?
As I blinked in bewilderment, Karen looked up at me calmly and spoke.
"Very well."
"What?"
"A promise is a promise. And House Kesef is always in the shadow of House Zahav. If the Young Lord commands it, I have no choice but to obey."
"...You're suddenly being so compliant, it's making me uneasy. Be honest. What's your angle?"
"It's nothing much. Just some thoughts I've had lately while watching you, Young Lord."
"So tell me what those thoughts are."
As I pressed her cheeks with my thumbs and index fingers, her lips puffed out.
Karen mumbled her answer just like that.
"No matter how strange an order the Young Lord gives, how strange could it really be?"
"..."
"If it truly is a strange order, I can just use one of the wish coupons you gave me before."
"Tch. Shouldn't have offered."
Hilda's father, Calton. To provoke him, I'd granted Karen one favor, and in return, I'd agreed to grant her one favor later.
Who knew it'd come back to bite me like this.
I released her soft cheeks with a sigh, and as I did, Karen straightened her disheveled clothes while muttering something.
"...Someone who faithfully keeps even a promise made without witnesses... I suppose you wouldn't worry."
"Huh? What was that, Karen?"
"Nothing at all. It's about time we head to the banquet hall. The distinguished guests are waiting for you, Young Lord."
"Right."
I gave myself one last look in the mirror.
The appearance was so different from my days in Calypso Territory that it felt awkward...
Honestly, though, I kind of liked that awkwardness.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The banquet hall we arrived at following Karen was dazzlingly extravagant.
"Whoa. Isn't this a bit overdone?"
"Frugality is a virtue, but this is the occasion where the new head of House Zahav—one of the empire's four great grand ducal houses—introduces himself. With guests from the central region and the imperial family, no less, we had to decorate to some extent."
"The imperial family too?"
"Yes. That person over there is Her Highness the Third Imperial Princess, Cornelia, attending the succession ceremony as the emperor's representative."
Karen subtly nodded toward the woman at the center of the banquet hall—not too obviously, but enough for me to recognize.
Pink hair grown so long it seemed to almost touch the floor. It had a slight wave, but its length made it look like waves crashing.
A hairstyle that would make anyone turn to look, yet surprisingly, it wasn't what defined the princess's aura.
Sharply upturned eyes. A haughty downward gaze. Despite the somewhat aggressive impression, her lips curved in a faint smile...
But everyone knew that smile carried a subtle rejection.
Even in a hall filled with nobles, she stood out as being on another level.
In fact, the southern nobles kept a slight distance from Cornelia.
They shot her glances that mixed displeasure with admiration. As she calmly enjoyed her dessert while receiving those looks with her whole body, our eyes met.
Cornelia smiled brightly and gave a little eye greeting. I reflexively smiled back.
"...Young Lord. In House Zahav—no, in the south—it might be fine, but you mustn't be rude to Her Highness the princess."
"What are you talking about, Karen? Our eyes just met, and we smiled at each other."
"Hmm. That was obviously... No. Never mind. You're the Young Lord, so you'll handle it well."
"..."
What a strange situation.
It was true that I'd been studying writing and etiquette, focusing on aura training, and behaving more quietly than before.
But I'd definitely put on the act of a vulgar, unreasonable brat whenever the chance arose.
Yet somehow, Karen seemed to trust me even more.
I sighed deeply and took my seat at the head table. Taking that as a cue, the nobles enjoying the banquet rose and focused their attention here.
Karen, who had been leading until now, stepped back, and Jevella took her place.
Jevella began conducting the succession ceremony in her characteristic gentle yet irresistibly compelling tone.
Originally, I was supposed to do it, but since the ceremony was rushed, Jevella had agreed to handle what she could instead.
It droned on with the complicated history of the house and pledges of loyalty to the imperial family as imperial citizens... Boring, pedantic stuff.
I wasn't the only one who thought so; some nobles showed faint signs of boredom too.
Even in another world, even among nobles, life had its similarities.
How long did I sit there, deliberately half-ignoring the etiquette Hilda had taught me by crossing one leg over the other?
Finally, the memorable part that would end soon arrived.
"Now, under the watch of Her Highness Princess Cornelia, we shall prove the qualifications to become the master of House Zahav. ...Laila. Bring it here."
"Yes, miss."
Laila, Jevella's personal maid, carefully brought over the large glass orb magic tool prepared in advance—the Blue Blood.
The somewhat dazed eyes of those around regained their spark. Right. This was the entertainment and dopamine of this era.
I chuckled and rose from my seat, heading toward the Blue Blood.
Of course, deliberately half-ignoring etiquette with a slouchy gait.
Hilda, watching from a short distance, glared with a sense of betrayal at my half-assed etiquette... but there wasn't much else she could do.
I curled up the corner of my mouth and, for the first time since the succession ceremony began, addressed the assembly.
"No need for long talks. Just remember this one thing. I'm your master now."
Even if House Zahav was the hegemon of the south, those were overly arrogant words to say outright. Especially with the princess here.
I'd surely succeeded in imprinting myself as a cocky upstart.
Feeling quietly pleased inside, I picked up the Blue Blood.
The grip fit perfectly in my hand. The smooth glass texture cooled my palm. And the moment a slight pain came from my fingertip.
As practiced, I secretly applied force to my hand.
...But what my hand crushed was no longer merely the Blue Blood.
Crash!
The magic tool shattered in an instant, leaving behind intense light and a sharp bursting sound.
After the hollow sensation in my hand, the sound of glass shards and liquid hitting the floor rang out.
The surrounding nobles began to murmur.
"What in the world..."
"I've never seen anything like this."
"The floor! Look at the solution on the floor!"
Following the last voice, everyone's gazes turned to the floor.
There was a small, blue-tinted puddle, and the intense light from it reflected off the broken glass fragments, dazzling the eyes.
Honestly, it was a pretty cool sight.
"Tch, immeasurable! The new Grand Duke Zahav's Bloodline Ability is beyond what a mere magic tool can gauge...!"
In a way, it was going according to plan, but I couldn't bring myself to smile. The reason was simple.
"I hadn't even put in any strength yet..."
What the hell is this?
I hadn't even considered any secret of my birth until now.
Bloodline Abilities were supposed to be so conspicuous you couldn't miss them even if you tried, right?
So there were cases like Jevella, who might not know which house's ability she'd awakened but was aware of what her power was.
Yet throughout my life, I'd never once thought I had some extraordinary ability.
But now, I was actually of noble blood? With a Bloodline Ability so powerful it overloaded a magic tool?
Then whose bloodline was this? My mother's, who had an oddly refined air unfit for her station? Or my unknown father?
No, could this reaction mimicking a Bloodline Ability be a side effect of human experimentation?
My already complicated mind grew even more tangled.
As my bewilderment edged toward irritation.
Bang!
Suddenly, the banquet hall doors burst open, and a soldier rushed in.
His armor was dented and torn, his body covered in wounds, and the sword at his waist looked half-melted, like it'd been dipped in a furnace.
It was a pitiful sight enough to make the nobles, excited by my Bloodline Ability, frown immediately.
But for me, it served to draw attention instead, so I was a little glad.
I roughly kicked aside the Blue Blood remnants scattered on the floor and descended the dais toward the soldier.
"Hey. You know interrupting a succession ceremony is a grave crime? You'd better have a good reason."
"Of course, Young Lord. But it's that serious an issue. Please, hear me out."
"Fine. Speak."
I nodded, and only then did the relieved soldier open his mouth.
"Our unit was investigating the cause of the dungeon surge that broke out sooner than expected. ...And we luckily achieved some results. That's the problem, though."
Thud!
The soldier slammed his head to the floor and cried out in a voice like he was vomiting blood.
"Black magicians...! Those vile bastards disguised themselves as adventurers, infiltrated the dungeon, and were artificially multiplying monsters, luring them to the surface!"
"...What?"
"Young Lord! Please save our unit members! To get even me out, they're still buying time in the dungeon, fighting those black magician scum with their lives on the line!"
"..."
Black magicians.
I'd thought after leaving Calypso Territory, I'd never have to deal with those bastards again.
Yet here they were, scheming in what was basically my front yard dungeon. Because of them, many people had died.
"Black magicians. Right, black magicians."
My voice sank lower than even I expected.
Can't be helped. How could I view kindly the ones who kidnapped a child me and subjected me to experiments akin to torture?
My head, filled with irritation and bewilderment, burned with one clear emotion. Rage.
A kind of PTSD. Or a trigger.
An impulse I knew of but couldn't control made a growl escape my throat.
"So those rip-you-apart bastards were here."
Just like in Calypso Territory.
Between me and the black magicians, one of us would die.