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Translator: penny
Chapter: 41
Chapter Title: Honey Badger
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The Argent Family mansion had sunk into such stillness that it seemed to have forgotten how to breathe.
The servants passing through the corridors kept their heads bowed.
They muffled their footsteps as much as possible, and even when opening or closing doors, they were too afraid to put any strength into their fingertips.
It was air so tense that even one loud breath would feel like a crime.
At its center was the Third Heir, Walter Argent.
More precisely, the Walter who had taken a direct ambush from the bastard son and gotten his face ruined.
Especially his jaw and teeth.
After being told that even healing magic couldn't fully restore them, his face would never return to its former state.
That fact alone was enough to freeze the entire mansion.
"Father!"
A scream like tearing cloth echoed inside the Family Head's room.
"You have to kill that bastard! We can't let him keep breathing after turning my face into this!!"
Walter wailed, clutching his bandaged face, especially the jaw area.
His bloodshot eyes were a mix of rage, terror, and indelible humiliation.
Before him stood the current head of the Argent Family, Agram.
And behind him, the other heirs.
The First Heir Wolfram, the Second Heir Seratina, and even the Fourth Heir Syl—all were present.
The room was eerily quiet.
No one stepped forward first.
They had no intention of stopping Walter's fury, nor of agreeing with it; their faces were absorbed solely in their own calculations and observations.
In that silence, Agram slowly lowered his gaze to look down at Walter.
It was certainly an unsightly mess.
And far too overtly a mark of 'defeat' for the Argent name.
"Family Head. If you'll permit it, may I say a word?"
In the heavy atmosphere, the first to speak was the First Heir, Wolfram.
He bowed his head in perfect deference, without the slightest disarray.
And only after Agram gave a slight nod of permission did he open his mouth.
"No matter the circumstances, this incident clearly crossed the line."
The eyes in the room naturally turned to him.
"By Argent Family law, direct physical confrontations between heirs are forbidden. Especially against a bastard—the restrictions are even stricter."
No sooner had he finished than Seratina smoothly picked up, as if she'd been waiting.
"That's right, Family Head. This was a unilateral assault on an heir, without even a Proxy Blood Fate."
She glanced at the bandaged Walter, adding in a voice utterly devoid of concealment or warmth,
"A clear violation of regulations. I believe it calls for appropriate punishment."
After a brief pause to catch her breath, Seratina turned her blade in another direction.
"Moreover, Walter is set to enroll in the 'Academy' soon. In this state... we'll suffer no small damage to the family at banquets, balls, or diplomatic gatherings."
That was when it happened.
"R-right! Father!"
Syl, who had been quietly holding her breath until now, suddenly piped up as if barging in.
"He was already looking so... no, really haggard, cooped up in his room all the time. And now his face is practically zombie-like, Brother Walter."
A strange silence flowed through the room.
Syl's tone was as light as could be, but her words were cruelly precise.
The three siblings' gazes stabbed toward Walter in unison.
Of course—
There was no way they were stepping forward out of genuine concern for Walter.
No matter how disinterested they were in the Family Head position, Walter was still an heir.
A rival to be crushed someday.
In truth, him ending up in such a state right before Academy enrollment was something of a quiet relief for the three.
But that wasn't what mattered now.
At this moment, the official heirs shared a single eyesore.
Lucas Argent.
Pressing him down decisively, somehow.
That was the true purpose of everyone gathered here.
"So."
Agram's low voice cut across the room.
"What punishment do you want for Lucas Argent?"
Words poured out as if they'd been waiting.
"First, confiscate all his slaves! And lock him in solitary!"
"He has to pay back what he did to me! Since his body's worth something to sell later, spare the face—but cripple a leg or an arm permanently!!"
"No matter what, this needs to go on record. To prevent it from happening again, make an example of him."
"Right! A guy like that is the worst disgrace in Argent history!"
Like fish snapping at bait, the heirs clamored over each other.
Their desire to crush their bastard brother oozed from every word.
Agram listened quietly.
...It wasn't incomprehensible.
For a bastard in the Argent Family—who was supposed to live quietly like a dead rat—to assault an official heir without even a Proxy Blood Fate.
By the rules alone, it was a capital offense.
But.
Agram's gaze slowly descended.
Too easy.
All the arrows pointed too neatly at Lucas Argent.
Lucas... that boy was, precisely, the first being in a very long time to stir 'exhilaration' in Agram.
For such a one to make such a stupid choice out of mere anger?
It didn't add up.
At the very least—
The Lucas that Agram knew wasn't some simple fool like these four idiots raving in excitement before his eyes.
'He's digging some kind of 'trap' right now. One where if we touch him over this, he'll counterattack instead.'
His four children.
If likened to beasts: the First Heir Wolfram was a lion.
One who charged straight on relying only on strength and courage, and thus fell easily into traps.
The Second Heir Seratina was a leopard.
Always targeting sure prey with precise strikes, but put another way, a beast a beat slow with no gambles or tricks.
The Third Heir Walter was a hyena.
Possessing outstanding talent and power, yet scavenging only the scraps others had hunted.
The Fourth Heir Syl was a cheetah.
Dashing toward her desires faster than anyone, but tiring quickly and losing momentum.
But Lucas was different.
A beast form Agram had never seen in his entire life.
Suddenly, he recalled a time long before he became Family Head—when he wandered as an adventurer.
Countless dungeons, countless beasts, countless monsters.
He'd faced ones stronger than lions, fiercer than tigers, even fire-breathing dragons.
But exactly once.
There was a beast that made his spine chill for the first time.
A monster that charged madly even at foes far stronger than itself, tearing with claws and fangs until the brink of death, even swallowing an eyeball or two before collapsing.
The honey badger.
Agram's gaze trembled roughly.
'Lucas Argent. That one's a honey badger. A thoroughly enraged one.'
For such a one to self-destruct after merely wrecking Walter's face?
No way.
He slowly turned his gaze back down to Walter.
"Walter."
It was a low but firm voice.
"How the hell did a nobody like Lucas leave you in that state?"
"Wh-what?! Th-that's...!"
Walter flinched and stammered.
"He had this slave... She looked useful, so I tried talking to her—"
"Slave?"
Agram's eyes narrowed.
"You mean the beastkin slave Piel, who took down Syl's Black Iron Chain in the Proxy Blood Fate before?"
"N-no! Not her...!"
Walter shook his head frantically.
"Somehow... there was one more."
In that instant, the air in the room shifted sharply.
Wolfram's eyes widened, Seratina furrowed her brow, and Syl stared at Walter with her mouth agape.
It couldn't be helped.
On Selection Day, they had swept up every slave Lucas could possibly take—from the useful ones to the defective—taking them all beforehand.
"Slave...?"
Wolfram muttered lowly.
"Walter, what do you mean? Lucas has one more slave now?"
"Impossible."
Seratina denied it immediately.
"We cleared them all out at Selection."
"R-right!"
Syl chimed in loudly for no reason.
"That's why I even took the ones without arms or legs!"
Confusion spread.
Even Walter frowned in bewilderment.
But Agram was already looking elsewhere.
'As expected... the bastard's got a scheme.'
He asked no more superfluous questions.
"So."
Agram's gaze fixed back on Walter.
"What did she look like?"
"Y-yes...?"
"Walter."
His voice lowered.
"If even you, busy playing with women, set your sights on her personally, she's no ordinary slave."
A moment of silence.
"From race to appearance."
Agram's voice sank low.
"Every last detail. Spill it all."
It wasn't a question. It was an interrogation command.
Walter felt cold sweat trickling down his spine.
He was clearly the victim here, yet strangely, he felt like the criminal.
The Family Head's gaze continued to press down on him.
F-first of all... she was an elf."
Walter hurriedly spoke.
"With incredibly beautiful golden hair. Elf slaves are rare, but... I've never seen one that pretty."
Up to that point, the room remained relatively quiet.
Elf slaves were uncommon, but this was the Argent Family.
A house that started in the slave trade and dominated the underworld.
If they wanted, they could acquire dozens or hundreds of elf slaves.
The problem came next.
"And..."
Walter hesitated before continuing.
"She had green eyes."
In that instant, the air froze.
"Green... eyes?"
Someone murmured lowly.
"Hehe, yes! Just like emeralds, so pretty!"
Walter was the only one laughing.
And that laughter was the one sound that didn't belong in the room.
Scraaaape.
The sound of a chair being pushed back.
Agram, who always sat in his place, stood up for the first time.
The next moment.
Crack!
"Guhk?!"
His bandaged jaw twisted sideways, and with a dull thud of cracking bone, his body flew into the wall.
The impact shattered every window in the Family Head's room.
Collapsed on the floor, Walter trembled, unable even to draw breath.
Before the pain came instinctual terror.
Father.
The Family Head, who had never once laid a hand on his children, had struck him.
The other heirs in the room were speechless.
No one could intervene.
"You idiot."
Agram's voice was low, and thus heavier.
"You don't even know that among elves, only 'high elves' have eyes holding the color of nature."
"Wh... what? H-high elf?"
"Yes."
After spitting it out curtly, Agram sat back down.
And pointed at Walter on the floor.
"You."
A beat.
"Tried to rape a princess of the Elf Kingdom, without even knowing how she became a slave."
"Wh-what?!"
"And."
Silence crushed the room.
"Lucas Argent is the one who stopped it from exploding into a national diplomatic incident."
The moment those words ended, the air in the room transformed completely.
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