Chapter 8: Embrace

Chapter 8: Chapter 8: Embrace

The music faded, and the hall grew quiet once more.

"Ladies! And gentlemen!" Cyril cleared his throat, trying to make his voice boom like his father’s. "Please enjoy—’The Majesty of the Eagle’s Claw’!"

The music started again, a drumbeat with an intense rhythm.

Cyril suddenly whipped his head back, his body beginning to twitch and shudder violently as if he’d been electrocuted!

His arms, shoulders, neck, and even the muscles in his face were moving in an exceedingly bizarre fashion!

Immediately after, Ferdinand and Otto joined this "dance of demons," mimicking Cyril’s movements. But with their stiff limbs, they looked more like two puppets being jerked around by tangled strings.

"..."

A strange silence fell over the hall.

In the shadows of the VIP seats, Baron Uer’s face was as black as a thundercloud.

He stared daggers at the writhing figure in the center of the dance floor.

’Is this the performance that useless son of mine has presented?’

His real target tonight had been Isha. A young woman whose talent was as outstanding as her beauty, and whose tenacious personality made her the perfect choice to be the future mistress of the Eagle’s Claw.

He had specifically told Edwin to have Isha come over precisely so Cyril would have a chance to win her favor.

And the result?

’That brat from the Atmesia family!’

Seeing Isha smiling and chatting happily with him all evening, the Baron felt his arrangements had become a complete and utter joke.

A wave of regret and fury washed over him.

’I never should have allowed that cursed bloodline to set foot in my manor.’

However—

PFFT!

Someone couldn’t hold it in any longer and let out a laugh.

Immediately after, as if a fuse had been lit, the entire hall erupted in deafening, uproarious laughter.

"HAHAHAHA! My heavens! What is young master Cyril doing? Performing an exorcism?"

"The dances of the nobility sure are different!"

"Look at Otto! The big guy’s about to shake himself to pieces! HAHAHAHA!"

"Ferdinand! Haha! That rascal! He’s dancing with more vigor than his dad plowing a field!"

The residents of Print were quickly sent into fits of laughter by this dance, which was filled with a "post-modern artistic sensibility." The applause and laughter nearly blew the roof off.

The atmosphere actually became even more lively than before.

But Hesia’s toes were curling in his shoes.

’This is too surreal! So surreal I want to slap myself just to forget this image.’

Taking advantage of everyone’s attention being captivated by Cyril’s "splendid" performance, he gently tugged on Isha’s sleeve and whispered in her ear, "Isha, it’s going to be crowded and chaotic when this is over. How about... we sneak out now?"

Isha’s cheeks were still flushed a faint red. Hearing his words, she nodded lightly.

...

Outside the manor, the night was deep.

The cool moonlight spilled onto the small road leading to town, stretching their shadows long.

Isha had changed back into the Knight’s Armor she usually wore, her golden hair once again tied up neatly behind her head.

Hesia had also changed back into his own simple, coarse linen clothes.

The two walked side-by-side, a subtle silence hanging between them.

Hesia’s mind, however, was buzzing with activity.

He had to admit, although he’d initially found this kind of ball dreadfully boring—not even as straightforward as paying for a few gaming companions to play video games with in his previous life...

...now... he thought it was actually pretty great.

The evening breeze blew past, carrying the fresh scent of the forest, and with it, the faint, alluring fragrance from Isha.

It was more intoxicating than any perfume he remembered.

Hesia let out a contented sigh in his heart:

’Life in this Otherworld is really not bad at all.’

’—It’d be even better without that damned contract.’

Suddenly!

"Halt!"

A low, angry shout came from the shadows by the roadside.

William, with two Attendants in tow, blocked their path.

His face was grim as he stared daggers at Hesia.

"Hesia Atmesia!" His voice was laced with a deliberately heightened arrogance. "I challenge you to a duel!"

Hesia frowned, just about to refuse such a pointless provocation—

"What? Don’t you dare?" William immediately cut him off, a sneer curling his lips. "Coward! Spineless wretch! And you dare carry a noble family name! Have you no courage to even accept a challenge?!"

He took a step forward, aggressive and overbearing. "Wager the long-rotted, stinking honor of your family! Like a real man, face me in a fair duel!"

"Who are you?" Isha stepped forward, shielding Hesia. A flicker of anger was in her azure eyes. "Why on earth should Hesia duel you?"

Seeing Isha defend Hesia, William burned with even greater jealousy.

He forced what he thought was a suave smile. "My dear beautiful lady, it was too hasty at the ball earlier, I forgot to introduce myself. I am from Oak Town..."

"I don’t care who you are!" Isha cut him off bluntly. "Move! Get out of the way!"

The smile on William’s face froze instantly, his expression flickering between pale and livid.

Seeing this, his two Attendants behind him took the hint and immediately moved to surround them, trying to block their way.

"Get lost!" Isha flicked her wrist. With a SHING, the practice Longsword at her waist was already drawn.

A pure white Holy Light, like a bolt of silk, streaked through the night, carrying a biting chill.

"Aaugh!"

The two Attendants, terrified by the sudden flash of the blade and the sacred aura, scrambled and crawled backward to get away, nearly crashing into William behind them.

Isha snorted coldly. Without even glancing at them, she took Hesia’s hand and continued down the path.

William didn’t know that the two of them lived in the same direction.

Watching their retreating backs as they walked side-by-side, the flames of humiliation and jealousy nearly consumed him.

After he revealed his status as a Viscount’s son, what girl that he’d taken a fancy to hadn’t eagerly thrown herself at him?

This country bumpkin, and that damn invalid!

What he found even more unacceptable was that they were leaving in the same direction!

’It’s so late... where are they going?!’

A lone man and a lone woman... his mind was instantly filled with indecent images.

’Those images should have been his!’

"Stop!"

William’s voice was distorted with jealousy:

"Don’t be fooled by that invalid! The Atmesia family is long finished! He’s just a piece of trash afflicted by a Curse, a short-lived wretch who won’t live much longer!

"Beautiful lady, look at him! He looks like a gust of wind could blow him over. Can he satisfy you? Can he give a woman true pleasure?! You two will never be happy!"

’Won’t live much longer?’

’Afflicted by a Curse?’

Isha subconsciously glanced at Hesia beside her. His face showed no intention of refuting the claims.

William also saw Hesia’s reaction and, thinking his words had taken effect, a triumphant smile appeared on his face.

’Even a down-and-out noble still cares about these things, after all...’

However, William’s goading was directed at the wrong person.

Hesia felt completely unfazed by all this. He even felt a little like laughing.

’Just a spoiled rich kid driven by lust.’

’He’d seen plenty of people like this in his previous life. They were worthless, nothing but a waste of breath.’

’Trying to provoke him with a noble status he felt no connection to? With a family honor that had long since rotted and started to stink?’

’What the hell does any of that have to do with me?’

’Forbearance when you lack strength is the most basic survival rule for an adult.’

’These empty titles weren’t even enough to provoke him.’

"It’s alright, Isha. Don’t mind him. It’s getting late, let’s just go home."

He took Isha by the wrist, his voice calm and steady, as if the foul-mouthed insults were just the wind whistling past his ears.

Their figures quickly disappeared into the night, leaving William behind, fuming with impotent rage.

...

The path returned to its tranquility, with only the chirping of insects and the RUSTLE of wind through the leaves.

Silence spread between the two of them.

Isha kept her head down, her mind heavy with thoughts.

William’s words swirled in her mind like a magic spell.

’Hesia’s physical condition... that so-called Curse... could it be real?’

’Is that also why he suddenly gave up on his training before?’

"Isha," Hesia’s voice broke the silence, carrying a hint of apology. "I’m sorry."

Isha looked up, gazing at him with some confusion.

She hadn’t fully recovered from the shock of the earlier confrontation when she heard him say "sorry."

She froze for a moment. Looking at Hesia’s gentle face and feeling the warmth from his hand, a complex emotion welled up inside her.

She hesitated, thinking Hesia was seeking comfort.

Biting her lower lip gently, she prepared to open her arms and give the boy before her, who carried such a heavy fate, a warm, friendly hug—

"You were right," Hesia said, looking at her with sincere eyes. "I really shouldn’t have given up halfway."

"Tomorrow, can I continue training with you?"

Isha’s outstretched arms froze in mid-air.

Beneath the moonlight, the young woman’s cheeks flushed red once more.