Zarith squinted at me. Arthur said nothing.
He nodded to Zarith and Alaric, then asked: "What are you feeling unwell from?"
God, why'd he have to ask that?
I had to complicate it to convince myself!
Yes, that's it!
'Logically, the transmigration alone wouldn't cause all this pain.'
'Why did I end up in Amon's body specifically? Was he alive or dead when I took over?'
'Could he have died? If so, how?'
'Maybe he was poisoned... or already sick. Otherwise, how would I have ended up here?'
I couldn't help but smile unconsciously. I forced my expression flat, then looked at my new father, Alaric, whose eyes scanned the room sharply, like he'd kill anyone who dared threaten me.
Tsk, tsk. What would he do if he knew his son was dead?
No, his son wasn't dead.
I was his son now.
"I don't know. I felt sudden nausea and a persistent headache. Maybe I'm sick from… the party."
My tongue almost slipped.
Arthur raised a brow but didn't push. Then asked: "Do you have any memories from 'outside' this world?"
Expected. I opened my mouth slowly and said: "I don't know…"
Of course, I knew, but I had to give a vague answer.
I kept my expression steady, then continued: "Sometimes I have dreams… strange visions. I'm not sure if you'd classify them as foreign knowledge. Continuing my earlier answer visions, flashed before my eyes, which caused my nausea and headache."
"Oh?"Arthur's smile widened. His eyes gleamed."Tell me, what kind of visions?"
"…A sky full of dragons. A castle among the clouds. Strange lights and ghosts… a land covered in a thousand swords."
Cloud Castel! That was my trump card against the great investigator, his weak spot.
A decade before the story began, Arthur's wife and daughter vanished into a mysterious portal. He spent years searching for them. Eventually, using divination, he located them in a castle full of clouds. However, he never found exactly where it was.
Of course, that was an arc for much later.
'Heheheh... Arthur Zirel, trying to back me into a corner?'
My third answer was a lie.
But how else could I slip past the great investigator?
And as he was, how could he not ask me the exact questions that could expose me?
'Good thing I expected that. He hasn't changed his methods.'
But so what? I'd turn it to my advantage.
Unfortunately, this meant I'd have to stay under his eyes. But so be it.
As expected, Arthur's eyes flickered for a second before he calmed himself:
"I see... it must be Awakening symptoms."He chuckled softly and looked at Alaric."Lord Alaric, be careful with your mana. You might be making your son ill. Some studies suggest that exposure to high mana individuals can cause mana-related illnesses. Be cautious."
...Mana illnesses, huh? That's what I almost let slip.
I really might have it.
Alaric furrowed his brow, concerned: "Is that so?"
"But no worries. That's all it is."
Arthur looked around, then turned to the nobles and smiled, declaring:
"Amon Greygon is clear. He is not possessed!"
A half-hearted sigh of relief swept through the crowd of nobles, while a few smug glances darkened as their owners exhaled in disappointment.
These bastards were enjoying the show.
I clicked my tongue, eyes locking onto Marquis Zarith.
No wonder the story was overflowing with vermin like him.
I couldn't stop myself. My voice trembled, but rang clear: "Hold on, Marquis Zarith… do you think I'm someone you can bully that easily?"
I was furious. How could I not be? I had just arrived in this world—and this damned noble had already tossed my life onto the chopping block.
Did he think I was someone to toy with?
The kingdom of Arginrath, where we currently were, or rather, humanity in general, had two main enemies:
- Demons and beasts.
Both hailed from the Beast Realm, both craving dominion over our world.
They were truly terrifying adversaries. While the beasts charged through portals and waged open war, the demons preferred something more insidious: possession and contracts!
So what if I managed to escape this farce?
I'd flip it back on him.
"You slandered the heir of another marquis in front of all these respected ladies and gentlemen, filling them, and me, with fear and doubt. Do you take us for fools? Or do you simply have no regard for anyone here?"
Marquis Zarith's face went pale. His mustache trembled. He opened his mouth, then shut it.
"..."
Instead, he turned a burning glare on Investigator Arthur.
Tsk tsk. Looks like it's time for some blackmail!
I threw a side glance at Alaric, who remained utterly composed, then pressed on: "Is the Greygon name so easy to stain? Even after everything we've done for this country, holding the lines against beasts and demons on the borders? Do you think so little of us? The dare of doubting me?"
Alaric's face darkened at that, a cold shadow falling over his features.
Zarith grew even paler.
'Heh. That's more like it!'
I opened my mouth, ready to pour more oil on the fire—
"Prince Odell and Prince Raizel have arrived!"
My words were cut short by a sudden, sharp voice that made my chest jolt.
A headache pulsed to life, pounding behind my temples again!
What game difficulty mode is this? Is it still not over?
Two young men emerged from the crowd, approaching steadily.
The princes, hah? Wait, could it be…
"Marquis Alaric Greygon greets Their Highnesses."
"Marquis Zarith Filmont greets Their Highnesses."
"Arthur Zirel greets Their Highnesses."
Alaric, Zarith, and Arthur all dropped to one knee in unison, facing the same direction.
And I—well, all I could do was glare up at the newcomers, my anger still simmering.
One of them stepped forward, smiling softly: "I greet Marquis Greygon, Marquis Filmont, and Investigator Arthur Zirel. What a pleasure it is to meet such distinguished heroes today."
Then, he turned to me. His smile didn't falter.
"Sir Amon," he said, voice gentle and serene, "I believe it would serve you well to calm yourself… and consider things with neutrality. Let us show some lenience toward Marquis Philmont."
The speaker was a young man with raven black hair and golden eyes.
He wore refined attire, a polished red-gold pin shaped like a feathered sword shining on his chest, marking him unmistakably as royalty.
He spoke smoothly, politely:"…The marquis's concern is valid, after all. He works closely with the investigation corps to serve us."
"Just as the Greygon family has long defended the borders against waves of monsters, so too has the Philmont family."His smile widened as he added warmly, "After all, beasts aren't the only ones with claws and fangs. Among us humans, there are also beasts. Ones with neither claws nor fangs. Don't you agree, Sir Amon?"
"That's why I must apologize… on his behalf."
Damn it. Damn it!
I recognized him immediately.
Prince Odell.
Two-faced. Volatile. Unpredictable.
One of the protagonist's fiercest enemies—and a major player in the conflicts to come.
A manipulative genius behind the curtain, a fucking rracistwho despised commoners.
A true 1st-Class Young Master.
Just like this, he'd flipped the entire situation with a few words.
My outrage had been transformed into rashness.
Zarith's aggression? Now seen as diligence.
What kind of twisted banquet is this? Whoever dropped me into this world…
Why the hell did I meet both Arthur Zirel and Prince Odell right from the start?!
I looked at the prince for a moment, then mimicked Alaric and knelt.
"Ahem… Amon Greygon greets Their Highnesses…"I coughed into my handkerchief, pretending illness to cover the delay, though the pounding in my head was very much real.
"You may rise."
Prince Odell's smile remained. Somehow, his voice was refreshing.
I looked up at him, forcing humility, and spoke in a tone coated with fake respect:
"How could I ever deserve a prince's apology? Surely, Your Highness jests.
I was merely… irritated with Marquis Philmont. A childish flare of emotion."
"Of course, I know the marquis's worth and his good intentions. I meant only to chastise him gently, just a soft rebuke among gentlemen. He, after all, knows his place better than anyone."
"All I did was offer him a kind reprimand… to remind him to weigh his words more carefully in the company of such esteemed guests."
"Clap! Clap!"
"Exactly!" Arthur Zirel clapped with a grin.
"His Highness speaks true—and so do you. Must we not also guard ourselves against beasts without fangs or claws among us - humans? I commend Marquis Filmont's quick wit and caution. He did not act rashly. He summoned me first. That, too, shows prudence."
"It shows dedication and vigilance."
Zarith's face lit up more and more with each word.
He looked at us now with smug arrogance in his eyes. He remained silent, choosing not to push it further.
And I—
I was speechless.
So that's how it ends.
Yes… I wasn't going to say anything more.
Poor Alaric.
He'd been humiliated, dragged down into the dirt.
And what could I do?
What could I possibly add to the prince's words?
Alaric was the only one who lost today.
He remained silent… while the man who insulted him rose higher in status.
Tsk, tsk… Arthur Zirel is a true genius at closing a case like that.