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Translator: penny
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: Let's Talk Like Family
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"I'll get straight to the point. I can't help you with this."
"...As expected."
I'd figured as much, but I didn't think she'd cut me off so cleanly.
I'd slipped out of the house under the pretense of a walk, ditched Karen in the marketplace before the fallout from that mess with Syl Argent could blow up, and headed straight to the Ashen Hand's hideout.
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?"
"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 unflinchingly resolute.
"From the start, the math doesn't add up."
She tapped her fingers on the desk 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.
"I'm not stupid enough to clash head-on with the Argent Family for the sake of one '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 Abellan Empire's royalty couldn't touch lightly—no, one entangled with the royalty itself.
It came up in the original story, Vengeful Goddesses, too.
Evelyn's half-brother, Crown Prince Carl—the heir apparent to the throne—was backed entirely by the Argent Family.
And Evelyn had known that from the beginning.
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 would tip irreversibly.
That's why Evelyn created the Ashen Hand—to fight back.
The imperial family's power alone couldn't check the Argents.
But the result was disastrous.
Once the Argents truly moved, 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 the world's apex predator, one even royalty couldn't defy lightly.
And here I was, asking her to collide with that monster head-on. Maybe I was the crazy one for even requesting help.
The princess's best offer was a single path.
"Lucas Argent. I can smuggle 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 at the kingdom's edge... I can reroute you there, evading the family's surveillance net."
In other words, make me vanish from the family.
"I can guess the treatment you've received as a bastard child, even without seeing it."
Evelyn let out a slow sigh.
"It might be better to live 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 lifeline Evelyn had in the original story that let her survive.
Ten years later, when the Ashen Hand collapsed and she was cornered on the verge of death.
She'd hidden in that very farm, barely clinging to life, and spent her remaining days quietly as a farmer until the end.
But offering that path to me now meant she was cutting her own final thread of survival.
Still... I didn't join the Ashen Hand to save the kingdom or aid a revolution or anything grand like that.
I just wanted to live a peaceful life, something I'd never had in my past life.
So if all I wanted was to 'run away,' I might have taken her up on it.
But that's not my style.
"Your Highness, I think you're misunderstanding something... I'm not asking you to fight for me, or even to help me escape."
"...Pardon?"
Fleeing the kingdom now wouldn't help anyway.
Ten years from now, per the original plot, the hero, demon king, elf empire, and Abellan Kingdom would tangle, turning the entire continent into a battlefield.
That meant mere survival, choking on the stench of burning corpses every day.
And above all, running away scared over backlash from roughing up some brat? That's not me.
I'm the type who says my piece and dies, even if it means taking a knife to the gut.
With that, I pointed upward with my finger.
"You saw that fox slave girl up there eating sweets with Chara, right?"
"Ah, yes. The one called Piel. You've nursed her back remarkably well. Even with the Water of Life's potency... I didn't expect her to recover that much from her state."
The princess, who had seen Piel on the brink of death firsthand, recalled the little fox peeking timidly from behind me at the teahouse earlier and smiled faintly.
Seizing the moment, I got to the point.
"I'm going to train that girl. Set me up with a training ground, gear, and all the supplies I need."
The sky poured down like it had gone mad.
It wasn't mere heavy rain—it was a deluge, as if the heavens themselves had torn open.
As if mirroring the blood-soaked tension brewing inside this mansion.
The family head's private chambers.
A sanctuary within the household, accessible only to the 'chosen direct descendants.'
Inside sat four official 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 over his shoulders, the man resembled a living grim reaper devoid of any spark of life.
In this room where even breathing felt restricted in his presence, it was the fourth daughter, Syl, who spoke first.
"Father! This... we can't just let it slide!"
Agram didn't respond.
He didn't so much as twitch a finger, merely flipping through his papers.
But that silence chilled the children even more.
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 bastard to dare threaten a proper heir like Syl... What insolence is this? We need severe punishment."
Then, with a sidelong glance, she 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 impeccably polite from start to finish.
But thorns were embedded throughout.
A classic Argent 'blood check' among heirs—using this meeting to undermine the first's position.
In this dark family, such displays were everyday fare.
Wolfram merely shrugged and countered calmly.
"My actions were necessary, Family Head. If I hadn't... Lucas would have already slashed his own wrists by now."
"...His wrists?"
The air turned prickly cold in an instant.
Agram Argent, who had scarcely lifted his eyes from the documents, finally turned his gaze to the children.
Before that horrific silence, Seratina's shoulders twitched faintly, Syl clutched her skirt and bowed her head deeply, freezing in place, and Walter kept his head down without a word.
Only Wolfram met the family head's impassive stare head-on.
"Yes. Recently, Lucas came to me and said he was so frustrated, so lonely... that he'd bashed his head against the wall until his nose bone shifted."
"...Lucas. Right, that was his name."
Agram's voice rumbled low.
"Strange. Seratina. Didn't you say you were managing Lucas's affairs?"
"Yes?! Ah, 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 atmosphere crashed down.
Seratina dropped to her knees. A submission quieter than falling rain.
But still, the fact remained: the bastard had threatened a proper 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 prevent starvation... and manage him so he doesn't rot until adulthood."
"Good. See to it."
The family head's voice held no emotion.
Utterly indifferent, like turning another page in his stack of daily tasks.
Only then did the four heirs rise in unison, preparing to leave and finalize Lucas's punishment.
That was the moment.
"Ugh, uwaaaah?!"
"Young Master! You mustn't!"
"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 that?"
"Why's it so noisy out there?"
As the four heirs turned simultaneously.
Knock, knock.
A knocking sound pierced 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 know where you are, barging in...!"
"You madman, daring to step into Father's chambers?!"
That cheeky face peeking in from the doorway.
The four heirs' expressions froze, then ignited with rage.
For a mere bastard to show himself uninvited in the family head's room.
Wolfram reached for the longsword at his waist, Seratina drew her wand from her dress and gathered mana, Walter silently formed a simple attack spell circle above 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' entirely.
The four's faces drained of color in an instant.
"That's...?"
"No way!"
"Lucas, are you insane?!"
"Yep."
Lucas grinned brazenly.
"Perfectly. Sane."
In his hand was a mana grenade, safety pin removed.
A weapon fusing magic and science—the deadliest in this world. The slightest pressure, and the entire room would vaporize without a trace.
One of the forbidden armaments with even battlefield use restrictions.
A thing no noble had even seen in person.
How... did a bastard like this have it?
But that question didn't matter now.
What truly did—
"So, everyone take a seat."
Lucas shook the grenade lightly, smiling.
"Unless you all want to go out with a nice family 'boom.'"
The glint in his eyes behind that smile.
The madness lurking there belonged to someone who truly wouldn't mind self-destructing here with the entire family.
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