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Translator: penny
Chapter: 49
Chapter Title: Proxy Blood Fate Declaration
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Today's Argent mansion was particularly rowdy.
No, to be more precise—
Amid everyone holding their breath and moving in tense silence, a single person was humming a carefree tune, completely oblivious to the atmosphere.
That person was none other than Walter Argent, whose engagement to Aira had essentially been confirmed for today.
He was prancing around the mansion.
A guy who would normally hole up in his room like a total recluse, lost in his magic research, was today darting between the servants, his excitement plain as day.
Soon, he'd have a lifelong partner bound to his side.
Or more precisely, by his own twisted standards—where he firmly believed a wife's duty was to support her husband through his hardships.
Whenever his magic research hit a wall and frustration boiled over, whenever his thoughts tangled into knots and rage surged up.
The fact that today, at long last, the 'top-grade female' who would take all that stress, all that fury, those fists, those lashes—uncut and pure—was falling right into his hands.
Just thinking about it warped Walter's face into a giddy grin.
"Hehehe... Once the engagement with Aira's done today, I'll drag her straight to my chambers."
He muttered to himself, his lips curling even higher.
"Hang her dangling in midair... Whip her till she sobs and begs me to stop."
As if the fantasy alone was pure bliss, Walter shrugged with delight.
"Ahh... It's real. Feels like my head's finally clearing up."
That laughter clashed horribly with the morning air in the Argent mansion.
Meanwhile.
"How are things on the elf front?"
The question came from Family Head Agram.
The third heir might have been humming his way through the mansion, but Agram's attention had never been on him to begin with.
In the grand ambitions of House Argent, the third son was little more than a chess pawn.
Unaware of that fact, they watched his thrilled antics from afar—First Heir Wolfram and Family Head Agram, quiet as shadows.
Agram's gaze lingered on one clear target.
The vital 'ingredient' to etch high elf blood into the Argent lineage.
The three elf sisters, unmistakably gunning for Aira.
The one tasked with secretly surveilling their movements was Wolfram.
Without turning, Agram asked again in a low voice.
"Any activity?"
"...Well."
After a brief pause to steady himself, he gave an honest report.
"It's been three days since they arrived at our estate, but nothing out of the ordinary. They've barely left the guest quarters."
Agram's eyebrow twitched ever so slightly.
"So you're saying they're not after Princess Aira? Not heading for Lucas Argent's annex?"
"Yes. That is..."
Wolfram hesitated, choosing his words, then laid out the full situation.
"The first night they entered the territory, our covert surveillance team—secretly tailing the elves—missed their scheduled check-in."
"Communication blackout?"
"Yes. Reports come hourly as standard, but there was no word for over six hours."
At that moment, even Wolfram had sensed something was wrong.
"That's why I mobilized right away. I figured the elves had made their move."
The next morning.
That was the reason he'd gone in person under the guise of courtesy.
Early morning sunlight streaming down.
Wolfram brought breakfast and all but stormed the guest rooms.
And—
"...It was bizarre."
His voice dropped low.
"The three elf sisters were right there in their rooms, same as always."
As if nothing had happened.
As if that blackout from the night before had been a complete fabrication.
"No signs of alarm, no trace of them leaving. It was just... like they'd been there the whole time."
Agram fell silent, deep in thought.
In that quiet, one thing grew crystal clear: something was off-kilter.
"This doesn't add up..."
The elf sisters' first night in the territory.
It was entirely plausible they'd exploited the initial lax security to raid Lucas's annex.
In fact, the very next day,
another of Argent's treasures—the Immortal Spring—showed a faint depletion in its waters.
That evidence alone pointed to a high chance of a diversionary tactic by the sisters.
One group steals the spring water, the other takes out Princess Aira.
True to high elf form, no effort to hide their greed.
Accomplish both objectives and slip straight out of the territory.
The snag came afterward.
If there was one thing they'd overlooked—
Currently holed up in Lucas Argent's annex was a slave who'd taken down one of Argent's famed black knights, the Black Iron Knights—cheating or not.
A beastkin slave called Piel.
And above all, that sly honey badger Lucas Argent couldn't possibly have been unaware of an assault on his own annex.
No, he had to have known. Had to have prepared meticulously.
Which meant a fight should have broken out.
One side—the sisters or Lucas's crew—takes heavy losses, creating an opening for Argent to step in and nab them.
That would have been normal.
But.
Nothing?
"Could it be... Lucas pulled some scheme? Offered a deal, like 'don't touch me' or something...?"
Growing impatient, Wolfram ventured carefully.
But the words died unspoken.
The look from Family Head Agram.
Pure, undisguised disappointment that choked off any reply.
"As if."
A voice sliced cold.
"You know full well what elves prize above all."
That single line sank the corridor air heavier still.
A deal? Absurd.
High elves had guarded their bloodlines for millennia, even resorting to incest.
They didn't yield their essence lightly, not even to fellow elves.
For them to buy into Lucas's plea to overlook their youngest becoming an Argent broodmare?
Unthinkable.
The one slim possibility left standing:
One—or more—of the three high elf sisters captured by Lucas Argent.
But even that clashed with the facts.
If they'd struck a truce for mutual release, there'd be no reason for the three princesses to linger in Argent territory three days later.
They'd have bolted at once, biding time for later.
Straight back to the elf forest.
And yet—
"Good morning, Family Head."
A soft yet prim voice.
Agram looked up to see Elcia standing there.
Behind her trailed the other princesses, Belcia and Celcia.
"Princess Elcia. I trust your stay in our territory has been comfortable."
"We've been treated far beyond our station. We are deeply grateful for House Argent's hospitality."
Formal pleasantries.
But her demeanor was flawlessly beyond reproach.
The grand hall of Argent, where Walter's engagement ceremony was moments from beginning.
A noble marriage consisted of two rites: the betrothal and the wedding proper.
On the cusp of the first, the three high elf sisters—including Elcia—approached Agram without a flicker of unease.
As if nothing had transpired.
As if that night three days ago had never been.
'No way... they've actually backed off?'
The least likely scenario.
Better to ditch a sloppy all-out clash with Argent and revert to the original scheme: trade the Immortal Spring for Princess Aira.
Once the engagement kicked off, the game was effectively over.
With Walter already ascended to the altar, everything would unfold as scripted.
Was it really ending just like this?
The thought flickered through his mind.
Then came the music heralding the bride's entrance, and the doors swung open.
A petite figure in pristine white glided slowly down the red carpet toward Walter.
At the sight, a deep breath of relief welled up from—
"Hey there~."
...the brink of release.
"Y-You, wha-what the—?!"
"Lucas..."
"Argent?! You lunatic!"
The hall erupted in chaos.
The bride had reached right up to Walter.
His face flushed with exhilaration, Walter reached to lift the veil.
What emerged beneath wasn't the beautiful princess with verdant eyes.
A smirk.
A black-haired pretty boy grinning like he'd been waiting for precisely this moment.
Aira's 'master,' who ought to have been the star of today's betrothal.
Lucas Argent.
He'd gone full cross-dress for the occasion, and the sight sent Walter shrieking backward in a sprawl.
The Argent retainers packing the hall were equally stunned, reduced to incoherent yells.
Seratina and Syl jabbed fingers, spewing curses; Wolfram ground his teeth, his face crimson.
And even they fell momentarily speechless before one presence.
Family Head Agram.
Color was slowly draining from—or rather, surging to—his face.
"What is the meaning of this, Lucas Argent."
A bearer of Argent blood, even if half.
Not content to trash his brother's betrothal, showing up in this grotesque getup.
Beheading him on the spot for family sacrilege wouldn't raise an eyebrow.
But.
As if every timing clicked into perfect sync.
"Family Head Agram."
In the riot of confusion, one voice cut through, utterly unchanged.
"Princess Elcia?"
Elcia stepped forward one measured pace, her face impassive.
"I have a question."
Her gaze locked straight on the Family Head.
"With Aira and Sir Walter's betrothal already sealed and marriage vowed, does that make our Elf Kingdom and House Argent... 'family'?"
"Fa...mily?"
Agram's eyes narrowed to slits.
An abrupt query. No clear context, no obvious intent.
Judging by the chaos, surely another trap laid by that Lucas wretch.
But.
Even as he thought it, Agram felt no immediate wrongness.
Quite the opposite.
This question was far too tempting a morsel from his vantage.
The high elves themselves declaring Argent 'family' in essence.
Those notoriously insular high elves extending an olive branch?
It amounted to the entire Elf Kingdom flinging open its gates to House Argent—and by extension, the Abellan Empire they hailed from.
A proposition impossible to refuse, politically or genealogically.
Thus, only one answer fit the moment.
"Indeed..."
Family Head Agram drew a short breath, affixing a smile.
"We are family now."
Up until those words left his lips, all seemed fine.
However.
Seconds hadn't even passed before Agram regretted his choice.
"Understood."
Elcia nodded.
As if she'd long anticipated exactly this reply.
"Then, from this moment—"
Her voice rang crystal clear through the entire hall.
"As a 'relative' of House Argent, I, Elcia Silvarion, hereby invoke Proxy Blood Fate over Aira's 'ownership' against Lucas Argent, a fellow member of Argent!"
"Wha..."
"What..."
"What?!"
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