Chapter 101

Chapter 101
## Chapter 101
### Has a letter arrived from Baron Ravenclaw?

Early in the morning, Lady Trisha, who was being dressed by the mansion’s maid, wore a perplexed expression.

Not even ten days had passed since she had been rejected when she attempted to assign a task to Dereck.

Of course, the task itself was a pretext to maintain contact with Dereck, the most renowned magic master in Ebelstein. However, it was difficult to deny the importance of finding the necromancer on the island of Rodentz.

It was a double-benefit strategy to gain favor with Lady Renewel and maintain contact with Dereck. But the request was rejected for being too dangerous, and everything fell apart.

However, the letter from Dereck that arrived first thing in the morning made all of that irrelevant.

“It seems we have found a necromancer who is a survivor of Rodentz Island.”

Upon reading the letter that began with that single sentence, Lady Trisha could not help but stiffen her expression.

***

Nearly ten days had passed since Ellen’s house arrest began and, finally, unable to endure it any longer, Count Belmierd summoned his highest-ranking vassals, his closest family members, and his most trusted servants to the study of the count’s mansion.

No matter how much they examined the clues in Ellen’s room, the only conclusion they reached was that Ellen had been researching necromancy.

“Your Excellency…”

Briana watched Count Belmierd’s expression with concern.

The count’s face was as haggard as Ellen’s, as if he too were cornered.

With the passage of time, public opinion toward Ellen worsened.

Upon reflecting on it, testimonies accumulated that they had seen Ellen wandering through the mansion late at night when no one was around.

In reality, the only thing she had done was go out to gaze at the moon because she couldn’t sleep.

There were also abundant testimonies describing her as tired, as if she had spent the night awake. People wondered if, during the night while everyone else slept, she was dedicated to researching necromancy.

In reality, she had simply stayed awake all night studying, or she simply didn’t feel well.

Many also claimed that she abruptly changed the subject whenever the topic of necromancy arose in conversation.

For her, talking about necromancy was a taboo.

Suspicions gave rise to more suspicions, and doubts to new doubts.

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Leonard, who observed the situation from a corner along with the vassals, lowered his head in silence. He had to suppress the urge to smile.

In reality, there were only two pieces of direct evidence of that conspiracy: the laboratory found beneath Ellen’s room and the letter that appeared to have been written by her.

Leonard had prepared the laboratory.

The secret room located under the heir’s quarters was known to the head of the family and some high-ranking vassals. It was a hidden space for emergency evacuations.

However, for decades the Belmierd authority had never been threatened, so that room had fallen into oblivion.

Leonard transformed it bit by bit into a necromancy laboratory and left incriminating traces against Ellen when she was not present.

The letter had also been cleverly forged by Leonard, mixing numerous truths and lies. He knew Ellen had visited the Duplain family, so he altered the facts in such a way that it was difficult to discern where reality ended and invention began.

Once suspicion was sown in public opinion, he only had to wait. Circumstantial evidence tended to multiply on its own.

He continued to spread foul rumors about Ellen, who had once been the cream of the count’s family.

It didn’t matter if they were accepted as truth or rejected as falsehood.

As long as doubts were sown, as long as people were made to question the facts and become confused about where the truth lay, surprisingly, that alone was enough to turn half of public opinion against her.

That is how the masses are controlled. Once that flow is created, everything becomes simplified. Logic and reason cease to matter.

“Father.”

Leonard took a step forward from among the assembled vassals.

Count Belmierd still remembered him as the devoted cleric he had been.

He felt quite guilty for not having welcomed him properly after his pilgrimage due to the rumors, but for now the matter of Ellen was the priority.

“Leonard. You…”

“You must be strong, father.”

Leonard spoke with an expression of pain.

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Outwardly, he was nothing more than a lamb following his faith, uninterested in the family’s succession rights.

It was something no vassal could say, but Leonard, as the only blood relative present, could.

“Ellen is also a lamb. Sometimes… she gets lost…”

“Leonard…!”

“It pains me to say it, but is this not the situation we find ourselves in…?”

Leonard spoke through his teeth, his chest trembling.

Seeing the mixture of emotions on his face, Count Belmierd held his breath.

“Perhaps it is a blessing that we discovered it in time… You remember the tragedy of the Duplain family, right, Father?”

“Do you want me to doubt Ellen?”

“Ellen was a noble person who spared no effort to obtain power. But sometimes, in following the straight path, one can be tempted by shortcuts and fall into traps.”

Learning necromancy is a taboo for a magician, but for one who craves power, it means having a secret weapon that no one else knows.

Controlling corpses, overcoming death, and dominating the mind implies the ability to manipulate without anyone noticing.

On the path to power, the temptation usually arises to obtain a secret power of that kind.

“It was just a momentary mistake. It is enough to acknowledge it and strive to correct it. Ignoring reality will only make things worse… Father…!”

“Leonard…!”

“Father, I beg you to listen to my advice…”

Leonard made his way forward and bowed respectfully before the desk.

The position of successor? I do not desire it. Let whoever wants it take it. They can even call my brother Linus back and name him successor.

Linus would never return to the Belmierd family.

In any case, once Ellen lost power, no matter how much he pretended to care and doubt, Count Belmierd would have no choice but to designate Leonard as his successor.

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It was a bluff he could afford because he knew it perfectly. Leonard behaved like a lamb without succession ambitions.

“It must be corrected now. That is the way to prevent the Belmierd family from suffering further damage…”

Leonard changed his expression as if he were giving sincere advice.

Count Belmierd, watching him, could not raise his voice. Most of the mansion’s servants already harbored suspicions against Ellen.

At this point, if even the head of the family turned his back on her, it was impossible to foresee how the situation would unfold.

The count, his face full of anguish for a long time, finally ran a hand over his face and spoke.

“Even so, I must hear Ellen’s excuse.”

As a father, he could not turn his back on her completely.

“Briana. Tomorrow at dawn, I will personally confront Ellen with the evidence. There I will decide her fate. Although until now we have kept the results of the investigation secret, from tomorrow she will also know.”

Seeing Count Belmierd, who remained cautious until the end, Leonard could not help but click his tongue in silence.

But Leonard knew.

He had already been entering and leaving the mansion, checking Ellen’s situation on several occasions.

She pretended otherwise, but she was already cornered.

***

“Pant, pant.”

She felt as if a sticky liquid was sliding down the tips of her hair.

For the first time, she realized that this was the sensation of her mind clouding over. Sitting in her room, Ellen felt her throat closing with every breath.

It would have been better to be completely locked away.

To be watched during meals, to receive suspicious looks from everyone, to hear whispers in the garden, and to feel the futility of the power that once pierced the sky.

And in the midst of that anxiety, having to endure day after day, one feels a strange sensation as if their vision is beginning to blur.

Late at night, when even the sound of insects had ceased.

A ringing in her ears, the flickering shadows of candles, darkness and more darkness.

She was a young woman who reached her hand toward the stars in the sky, and having run upward all her life, she did not know the pain of the fall.

Even the closest servants and assistants who had admired her throughout her life, in the end, were nothing more than a crowd swept away by power and public opinion.

She had never had the opportunity to learn to distinguish between those who would truly remain by her side and those who were nothing more than by-products attracted by an ephemeral power.

Those who have never hit rock bottom do not know how to distinguish who is really by their side.

While you wander between the cracks of confusion and doubt, you suddenly feel as if the world around you is shrouded in mist.

At some point, you stop combing your hair. You don’t even rub your tired eyes.

Your self-assurance and confidence begin to fade slowly.

An extraordinary mind, mental agility, exceptional magical skills, noble appearance: the only thing the young woman lacked was experience.

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The experience of standing firm with both feet on the ground in front of the crowd staring at her.

“Ridiculous… Do they really think I will be fooled by such a lie…?”

She repeated the words with a lost gaze, biting her nails. She had no life left, only a miserable pride that barely stayed afloat.

The young woman understood. The support of the crowd, like reeds, is as ephemeral as a fleeting dream.

If she fell, that support would vanish like the wind, leaving only a facade.

“Yes, it seems they are trying to sow doubt while gaining time… If only I could contact Duplain… If only… ugh…”

A vomit devoid of dignity rose up her throat. Ellen collapsed.

Had she ever fallen like this before?

Neither the authority that once seemed to pierce the heavens, nor the magical skills that left everyone speechless upon witnessing them, nor the rivals who could not compare to her, had ever dragged Ellen into such an abyss of despair.

Even when countless noble ladies succumbed to the burden and pressure, Ellen never lost her will.

But now, only rumors, doubts, and time remained.

It was not a great evil, nor a great cause that enveloped the world, nor a fatal enemy. Only that.

It was precisely that which eroded the fragile trust of the crowd that followed power.

Even the servants who had forged a relationship of trust with her over a lifetime now looked at her with suspicion.

She could not even express her discontent at that fact.

A play she had seen in her childhood at the Kalimford Theater came to mind.

It was the day Ellen left the theater with a sneer.

The poignant song of the protagonist on stage, who chose love over power, caressed her ears.

Had the playwright understood it subconsciously? No flower blooms forever, and in the end, the essence of that flower called power is to wither.

She had spent her whole life chasing that facade called power.

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Those beings who walked with serenity toward the throne seemed admirable to her, and she had desired to sit by their side.

Knock, knock.

The rain that had begun to fall hit the window.

At first, intermittently, but soon the downpour began to reflect Ellen’s feelings.

What have I lived for? Why did I cling with such desperation to the sand that escaped through my fingers the more I clenched my fist?

I don’t know. I don’t know anything. The young woman who for so long had run without hesitation along a well-paved path, experienced for the first time the deep sensation of being lost. It left such a large void in her heart that she could not even think about the false accusation of necromancy that tormented her.

Whoosh.

The rain falling outside the window intensified greatly, and even lightning began to fall intermittently.

Suddenly, the ceremonial dagger located in a corner of the room caught the young woman’s attention.

If she surrendered to her suffering and put the blade to her neck here and now, would the servants understand her innocence?

If they found her cold and inert in the morning, with tears of anguish in her eyes, would the servants then understand the injustice that had been done to Ellen?

Such an impulse is irrational.

How can a noble life be ended over a false accusation? It makes no sense.

However, that forbidden impulse always arose, regardless of reason or understanding.

Those who end their lives do not do so after having calculated everything.

They simply fail to resist the impact of the moment, the dark impulse that enters their heart right now, leading them to an irreversible end.

If they could endure that instant, perhaps there would be a way out, but so many people choose to end their immediate suffering.

Cornering one’s own heart was something like that.

When Ellen took the dagger with clouded pupils and contemplated it, her eyes, once red and bright, had turned ashen, as if they no longer had the strength to burn.

Her fingers trembled as she held it.

Finally, she closed her eyes tightly.

“Lady Ellen, while you face various enemies in high society, there will undoubtedly come a moment when you stumble over a stone or face the suspicion and ridicule of everyone. Although it may not be a crisis that shakes your life like mine, it could corner your heart and your mind.”

These were the words of a certain lady, who had faced pain so great that such trials seemed insignificant to her, spoken while she was sitting in the corridor of Elfontaine Hall.

She smiled widely and extended her fist toward Ellen.

“That is the moment to look around you.”

Crash!

Slash! Bang!

In an instant, the window shattered and the rain rushed into the room.

Ellen’s room was protected by numerous guards, making it difficult for anyone to enter.

However, the uninvited guest created the illusion of thunder with a confusion spell to mask the sound of breaking glass and then burst through the window from the outer wall as if it were nothing.

The man, apparently accustomed to moving in such adverse weather conditions, dropped his soaked cloak as he straightened up inside the room.

And without hesitation, he firmly grabbed the blade of the dagger the young woman held in her hand.

Drip, drip.

Red blood ran down the blade.

Ellen was so shocked she couldn’t even scream.

“…”

Clang! Clang!

The man snatched the dagger from her and threw it to the floor, then pushed Ellen back.

Seeing her collapse weakly, the man waved his hands and pulled a letter from his chest, leaving it on Ellen’s table.

There were two letters. One bore the seal of the Duplain family, the other the seal of the Renuel family.

“Eh, ugh…”

While Ellen barely caught her breath, the white-haired man roughly wiped the blood from his hands and straightened his posture.

A flash of lightning shone and his red eyes glowed with intensity.

If you can claim to have lived a life worth living.

Even if everyone turns their back on you, there will always be someone who remains by your side.

As if to prove it, the man stood firm while the rain fell behind him.

Although no explanation had yet been given, the haggard girl lying on the floor with wide eyes sensed it instinctively.

For some reason, she thought.

That man was Ellen’s ally.