"Straight to the point. I can't help you with this."
"..."
As expected.
I'd anticipated it, but I didn't think she'd shut it down so bluntly.
I'd slipped out of the house under the pretense of a walk, ditched Karen in the market before the messy fallout from tangling with Syl Argent could blow up, and headed straight for the Ashen Hand's headquarters.
And the first words out of Evelyn's mouth in response to my SOS—"I have to throw down with Syl, so help me out"—were a flat-out rejection.
"Why not? Aren't we all eating from the same table now? Family, right?"
"What kind of family throws their own into a fire pit just because they don't want to be left behind?"
She's firm as ever.
Even as I tried to force the "aren't we on the same side?" logic, the princess's demeanor remained utterly unshaken, cold and detached.
"To begin with, the math doesn't add up."
She tapped her fingers on the desk—tap tap—and continued.
"Of course, Lucas Argent. You're already an official member of our Ashen Hand. And I don't take lightly the debt I owe you. But—!"
Her voice sharpened just a fraction.
"I'm not stupid enough to clash head-on with the Argent Family for the sake of one 'mere member.' That would be dragging the entire organization to the pyre with me."
Fair enough.
The Argent Family was the worst black curtain in this world, one even the royalty of the Abellan Kingdom hesitated to touch—no, one entangled with the royalty themselves.
It had come up in the original story, Vengeful Goddesses.
Evelyn's half-brother, Crown Prince Carl—the next emperor designate—was backed entirely by the Argent Family.
And Evelyn had known that from the start.
In terms of succession rights alone, she and her brother were on equal footing. But the moment that monster called 'Argent' threw its weight behind him, the scales tipped overwhelmingly.
That's why Evelyn created the Ashen Hand—to fight back.
The royal power alone couldn't check the Argents.
But the result was disastrous.
Once the Argents truly mobilized, her bid for the throne crumbled in an instant. Her allies died, and she herself was driven to the brink of death.
The 'Argent Family' was, in short, the absolute apex predator of this world—one even royalty couldn't easily defy.
And here I was, asking to openly collide with that monster. Maybe I was the crazy one for even requesting help.
The princess's best offer was a single option.
"Lucas Argent. I can... secretly get you out of the kingdom."
"...You're opening an escape route for me?"
"Exactly. That's the most I can do. I have a villa on a farm in a remote corner of the kingdom... I can reroute you there, evading the family's surveillance net."
In other words, make me vanish from the family.
"As an illegitimate child, I can imagine the treatment you've endured without even seeing it."
Evelyn let out a slow sigh.
"It might be better to... start a second life as a farmer on the kingdom's outskirts."
There was no pretense in her tone.
The 'escape route' she offered was the one path Evelyn survived by in the original story.
Ten years later, when the Ashen Hand collapsed and she was cornered on the verge of death.
She hid in that very farm, barely clinging to life, and spent her remaining days quietly as a farmer until her end.
And now, offering that path to me meant she was cutting her own final lifeline—the one she'd rely on in her last moments.
But... I didn't join the Ashen Hand to save the kingdom or aid a revolution or anything grand like that.
I just wanted a taste of the peaceful life I'd never had in my previous one.
So if my goal was simply to 'run away,' I might have taken the offer.
But that's not my style.
"Your Highness. I think you're misunderstanding something... I'm not asking you to fight alongside me, or even to help me escape."
"...Pardon?"
Fleeing the kingdom now wouldn't help anyway.
In ten years, per the original plot, the hero, demon king, elf empire, and Abellan Kingdom would tangle, turning the entire continent into a battlefield.
In short, it'd just be scraping by, breathing in the stench of burning corpses every day.
And above all, running away scared over some backlash from roughing up a brat? That's not me.
I'm the type who says his piece and dies, even if it means taking a knife to the gut.
With that, I pointed upward with a finger.
"You saw that fox slave girl up there eating sweets with the carriage right now, yeah?"
"Ah, yes. The girl named Piel. You did a great job nursing her back. Even with the Water of Life's wonders... I didn't expect her to recover that well from her state."
The princess, who had seen Piel on the brink of death firsthand, recalled the little fox who had timidly peeked out from behind me at the teahouse earlier and smiled faintly.
Seizing the moment, I got to the point.
"I'm going to train that kid. Set me up with a training ground, gear, and all the supplies I need."
"...Pardon?"
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The sky poured down like it had lost its mind.
Not just a downpour—it was a deluge, as if the heavens themselves had torn open.
As if mirroring the bloody tension boiling inside this mansion.
The family head's private chambers.
A sanctuary within the house, accessible only to the 'chosen direct descendants.'
Inside sat four legitimate heirs with stony faces, and looming above them from his high seat was Agram Argent.
Skin so pale it lacked even a trace of blood.
Eyes cold as ice.
White hair like a beast's cascading long over his shoulders—a man resembling a living grim reaper, devoid of any spark of life.
Even before him, no one dared breathe freely. Yet it was the fourth daughter, Syl, who broke the silence first.
"Father! This... we can't just let this slide!"
Agram didn't respond.
He didn't so much as twitch a finger, merely flipping through his papers.
But that non-reaction only froze the children further.
Next to speak was the second, Seratina.
"Family Head, we must not take this incident lightly."
Her voice was cool and smooth, yet sharp as a blade.
"For a filthy illegitimate to dare threaten a legitimate heir like Syl... What insolence is this? We need severe punishment."
Then she glanced sideways and added,
"And... the first brother Wolfram, who permitted a slave to that defective, bears some responsibility too."
Wolfram's expression hardened briefly.
Seratina's words were polite from start to finish.
But they bristled with thorns impossible to hide.
A classic Argent 'blood check' among heirs—using the meeting to undermine the first's position.
In this dark family, such displays were everyday fare.
Wolfram merely shrugged and calmly countered.
"My actions were unavoidable, Family Head. If I hadn't... Lucas would have already slit his own wrists by now."
"...Slit his wrists?"
The air turned prickly cold in an instant.
Agram Argent, who had scarcely lifted his eyes from the papers, finally turned his gaze to the children.
Before that horrific silence, Seratina's shoulders twitched faintly, Syl clutched her skirt and bowed her head deep, freezing in place.
Walter, who had watched wordlessly, kept his head down too.
Only Wolfram met the family head's impassive stare head-on.
"Yes. Recently, Lucas came to me and said he'd gotten so frustrated and lonely... that he'd smashed his head against the wall until his nose bone was crooked."
"...Lucas. Right, that was his name."
Agram's voice rumbled low.
"Strange. Seratina. Didn't you say you were managing Lucas's affairs?"
"Yes?! F-Father, that's—"
Her excuse didn't even start.
The moment Agram's gaze pinned her, Seratina stiffened like prey seized by the scruff and shut her mouth.
"You..."
Agram said slowly.
"You've always done all sorts of pointless things to curry favor with me."
"...!"
"Did you think I wouldn't know most of the people around Lucas were yours?"
The room's air crashed down.
Seratina dropped to her knees at last. A surrender quieter than falling rain.
But even so, the fact remained: an illegitimate had threatened a legitimate heir.
Agram turned his head.
"Wolfram."
"Yes, Family Head."
"So how do you plan to handle it."
Wolfram didn't hesitate.
"I'll move Lucas Argent to the underground isolation cell immediately. Lock him where no sunlight reaches, provide just enough food to keep him from starving... and manage him so he doesn't rot until adulthood."
"Good. See to it."
The family head's voice held no emotion.
Indifferent, as if checking off one more task on his desk.
Only then did the four heirs rise in unison, preparing to leave and finalize Lucas's 'disposition.'
That was the moment.
"U-Uncle? N-No, Young Master! You can't do this!"
"Guards! Stop him now!"
"Stop him?! H-How do we even—?!"
Rushing footsteps from outside, screams, and the clamor of something about to explode.
"...What is it?"
"Why's it so noisy out there?"
As the four heirs turned simultaneously.
Knock, knock.
The sound cut through the silence.
And without waiting for permission, the door slowly opened.
"Hello~. Mind if I come in for a bit? Got some business."
"Lucas Argent?!"
"You bastard! Do you even know where you are?!"
"Insane fool, daring to step into Father's room?!"
That smug face poking in from the doorway.
The four heirs' expressions froze, then ignited with rage.
An illegitimate daring to show himself uninvited in the family head's chambers.
Wolfram reached for the longsword at his waist, Seratina drew her wand from her dress and gathered mana,
Walter silently formed a basic attack spell circle in his palm, and Syl lifted her axe with eyes gleaming for revenge, as if she'd been waiting.
And—
As they all stepped forward in unison.
"Ah, hold still. Don't move."
Click.
From the door crack, Lucas slowly extended 'something else' into view.
The moment they saw it, the color drained from the four's faces.
"That's...?"
"No way!"
"Lucas, you... have you lost your mind?!"
"Yep."
Lucas grinned cheekily.
"Perfectly. Sane."
In his hand was a mana grenade, safety pin removed.
A weapon fusing magic and science—the deadliest in this world. A twitch of force, and the entire room would vaporize without a trace.
One of the forbidden armaments with even battlefield use restricted.
A thing even nobles had never seen in person.
How... did a wretch like this illegitimate have it?
But that question was irrelevant now.
What truly mattered was—
"So everyone, take a seat."
Lucas shook the grenade lightly with a smile.
"Unless you all wanna go 'boom' together nicely."
The glint in his eyes behind that grin.
It harbored a madness that said he'd gladly self-destruct here, taking the whole family with him.