Chapter 167

Chapter 167. Even If Our Sleeves Brush

A secluded spot within the grand reception hall.

Aster was crouched down in the most relaxed position possible, staring aimlessly at the ground.

There was an old idiom—saphil-gwijeong. The ancient proverb implies that ultimately, all matters inevitably align with the proper path.

If that logic were to be applied to the current dilemma, what interpretation would it yield?

‘Does this mean that journeying to Amera is the outcome I truly deserve?’

Yes. That was likely the case.

“Sigh… what a mess.”

Perhaps due to his low, muttered oath, the surrounding guests seemed to glance over briefly, but they quickly averted their eyes as though pretending they hadn’t witnessed anything awkward.

In the middle of the quiet, Aster’s reflections pressed onward.

‘To be fair, this wasn’t a development that was entirely beyond expectation.’

The ethereal fairy dance within the Amera territory is a rare supernatural occurrence that takes place once every few decades at best, and sometimes only once every few hundred years.

It wasn’t merely academics like Professor Parun who would be intrigued—any practitioner of magic would view it as an occurrence far too monumental to overlook.

From a certain perspective, Demian choosing to travel to Amera was completely logical.

Therefore, it wasn’t a ridiculously contrived coincidence…

It was right at that moment that Aster suddenly perceived someone watching him.

‘What’s his problem?’

Positioned a good distance away, right in the center of the bustling hall, a mature gentleman was staring directly at him.

Surrounded by a crowd of attendees, the man clearly held significant social rank, yet the expression in his eyes… was peculiarly unsettling.

It resembled the way one might observe a strange, exotic creature.

‘They say that maintaining eye contact for more than three seconds constitutes a challenge.’

As he quietly computed the numbers in his thoughts—three, two… leaving only a single second—

Someone neared his position.

“Y-younger brother.”

“Ah, hyung. You’ve arrived.”

Paijin recoiled slightly upon seeing Aster’s bright, welcoming expression, then took a cautious look around the room.

“Hyung, what’s the matter? Does being near me make you uncomfortable?”

“N-no. That isn’t it.”

In reality, that was precisely the issue.

The instant Paijin walked over, the attention of the guests who had been subtly monitoring Aster suddenly focused entirely on them.

“Wouldn’t it be far wiser for us to find a place to sit down and converse? Ah… naturally, it’s not as though we have reached the point where we would casually share tea, but still.”

He was implying that the collective scrutiny was too intense, suggesting a change of scenery—though even as the words left his mouth, Paijin felt a wave of nervousness.

Yet, contrary to his expectations—

“Alright. Let’s take a seat then.”

Hearing such an unexpectedly cooperative reply, Paijin’s spirits lifted. But it was short-lived.

“Right here. Sit down.”

“…?”

“Didn’t you just suggest that we sit?”

Paijin watched silently as Aster shuffled over slightly, remaining firmly in his crouched posture.

“Are you not going to sit?”

“Y-yeah… I’ll join you.”

Left with no alternative, Paijin sank down into a squat right beside Aster.

The surrounding observation grew even more pronounced, causing Paijin’s cheeks to flush with heat, but he gritted his teeth and adopted a bold, unbothered facade.

That was when Aster chose to speak.

“Did your conversation with Lady Mother yield positive results?”

“Yes, it concluded well.”

“What exactly did you say to her?”

“Simply… that I had reflected on my actions and recognized my mistakes… I requested that she refrain from disciplining you. Ah—Lady Mother will likely reach out to you on her own later.”

“Hm. I see.”

Following that exchange, a quiet stillness settled between the two.

Paijin observed Aster, who appeared profoundly lost in his thoughts, and then extended an arm toward a passing attendant carrying refreshments.

Taking two goblets from the tray, Paijin placed Aster’s portion down onto the floor, then took a small drink to moisten his throat.

Since he had committed to acting shamelessly, he figured he might as well embrace it completely. This was his very first time engaging in such a bizarre public display, yet it felt strangely natural to him.

So, how long did that quiet period persist?

“Hyung, give me your thoughts. I am facing a bit of a predicament.”

“…A predicament?”

Paijin tilted his head, inspecting Aster. The retort ‘We aren’t on intimate enough terms to discuss personal predicaments’ nearly slipped past his teeth, but the genuine gravity in Aster’s gaze compelled him to listen for the moment.

The dilemma was explained as follows.

“I am required to travel to a certain location. However, if I make the journey, I have a distinct premonition that some sort of disaster will unfold, you understand? If you found yourself in my position, hyung—what course of action would you take?”

“In that case… wouldn’t you simply choose to stay behind? Are you absolutely obligated to attend?”

“Am I obligated?”

“Well, if you are being coerced under duress, then there is no alternative. But if that isn’t the situation, there’s no reason to go out of your way to participate, is there?”

“Hm.”

Aster sipped from the beverage resting on the ground to wet his lips. A vibrant flavor of pomegranate filled his mouth, and a sudden revelation struck him.

‘Yes. Simply avoid going.’

The logic was sound.

It wasn’t as though anyone was pressing a blade against his throat, threatening his life if he refused to journey toward Amera from Brando.

However, the complication lay elsewhere.

“It is an exceptionally rare chance, and the party extending the invitation was thoughtful enough to secure a position for me, correct? If I decline, won’t that cause offense and wound their pride?”

“Well…”

“What is your perspective on this, hyung?”

Paijin shifted his gaze toward the ceiling as if weighing the matter, then offered his thoughts.

“If they hold a status superior to yours, you have no choice but to comply.”

“And if their standing is inferior to mine?”

“I doubt they would view your refusal favorably.”

“Exactly, right?”

“Indeed. By chance, are they members of the nobility? The aristocracy can be incredibly sensitive regarding such matters. Those possesses a gentle temperament might overlook it, but regardless, it is far wiser to present a plausible justification.”

“A plausible justification?”

“For instance, claiming a sudden illness. There are numerous tactics. The most frequent method involves fabricating an ailment, though…”

With that, Paijin’s detailed instruction commenced.

—The art of making a clean exit without offending a person of higher social standing.

Aster listened in absolute silence, and because Paijin was precisely the sort of individual who went to great lengths to evade environments he despised, every single piece of advice resonated with genuine experience.

“To begin with, if you intend to claim poor health, it is far more convincing if an eyewitness is present. The most straightforward scenarios involve sustaining an injury during a training duel, or taking a fall while riding a horse.”

“Does that actually succeed?”

“It generally proves effective. Oh, though it was quite difficult back in Brando. Even putting aside Healing Light, the standard restorative magic is remarkably potent.”

“Have you actually attempted that?”

“On one occasion. Simply because I wished to avoid visiting the main house.”

“Hm.”

In that case, superficial physical wounds were out of the question.

“Then what about internal disruptions?”

“Internal injuries… I haven’t ventured quite that far with my schemes, but if you possess the skill to simulate it, it isn’t a terrible option. But why do you ask? Are you planning to attempt this within Brando?”

“No, that’s not the reason.”

“I figured as much. Now, the easiest strategy is…”

An increasing amount of practical expertise was shared.

For example, pretending that a cherished steed had passed away, causing you to waste away from immense sorrow, or fainting due to an overwhelming case of lovesickness, or entering strict isolation out of the sheer humiliation of losing a combat match, and so forth.

A few of the scenarios sounded intriguing, but Aster’s enthusiasm waned upon hearing the subsequent warning from Paijin.

“The absolute vital element is the preparation of specifics. The moment a meeting is scheduled, you must orchestrate your plan with at least a two to three-week buffer period.”

Tch. Why on earth did the finer details have to be so critical?

Ah—there was one minor point of curiosity.

“Hyung, did you actually terminate the life of an innocent horse?”

Faced with Aster’s deeply judgmental expression, Paijin waved his hands frantically and leaped to his feet.

“No, are you out of your mind? That incident was entirely genuine. The horse I had raised since I was five years old passed away naturally, so I was genuinely devastated.”

“Is that so? You didn’t orchestrate its death, right?”

“O-of course I didn’t.”

Paijin felt completely wronged. He had merely intended to provide a hypothetical scenario, yet he had suddenly been cast as a monstrous individual who would commit slaughter just to evade a commitment.

Regardless, Paijin’s lecture drew to a close after imparting a few lingering details and one final memorable piece of wisdom.

“This constitutes the most vital principle.”

景…?

“Prior to deceiving your target, you must first deceive your own mind. You are familiar with the adage, right? ‘All reality is shaped by your perception.’ The exact moment you wholeheartedly embrace the lie, it transforms into the absolute truth.”

“Hm.”

Hearing that deeply resonant statement, a spark of inspiration ignited within Aster’s eyes.

“So you possess your own firm convictions, hyung?”

“O-of course.”

“Impressive. I say that with total sincerity.”

“H-ha ha.”

Paijin offered a strained chuckle, unable to discern whether Aster was mocking him or offering genuine praise.

Yet, unfortunately for his suspicions, Aster was admiring him with absolute purity, without even a trace of hidden cynicism.

In any given discipline, it was exceptionally rare to encounter an individual who lived with such profound dedication—even if it concerned an affair as utterly trivial as this.

“In any case, did those suggestions offer any assistance?”

“It provided… some utility, I believe.”

Aster nodded sharply, analyzing the lecture in his mind.

Setting aside the complex details for a later time, he extracted only the concepts that could be applied immediately and committed them to memory.

The single most attractive option was clear.

‘Internal disruption.’

That appeared to be a condition he could falsify with a reasonable degree of plausibility.

‘Naturally, I have no intention of causing actual internal damage to myself, but coughing up a small amount of blood and intentionally destabilizing my internal mana flow is trivial.’

Granted, the essential factor was the precise timing, but…

“Uh, um. I must take my leave now—Father will be making his formal arrival shortly.”

Aster collected his wandering thoughts and fixed a steady, unblinking gaze onto Paijin.

Beneath that intense scrutiny, Paijin began to perspire and retreated a few steps awkwardly, which was the exact moment Aster chose to speak.

“Hyung, would you mind delivering a shove?”

“…Huh?”

“Just push me once. If you simply give me a shove, I won’t require any further demonstration of your sincerity.”

“……”

Paijin stared down at Aster with completely expressionless, vacant eyes.

“You truly are… a piece of garbage, aren’t you?”

It marked the very first time utter disdain manifested in Paijin’s expression. Simultaneously, an unexpected realization dawned upon him.

…Perhaps this was precisely the manner in which other individuals used to look at me.

If that were true, his past conduct would be profoundly mortifying—infinitely more so than crouching on the floor of a grand reception hall.

Ultimately, Aster accepted only the verbal advice and permitted Paijin to depart.

“Hyung, walk a righteous path.”

“…I shall endeavor to do so.”

“Oh, and if you find yourself with spare time, consider composing some literature. The insights you shared just now were quite remarkable. I intend to review your progress the next time our paths cross, so ensure you write it down.”

“…Very well.”

Following Paijin’s departure—

Aster wandered aimlessly through the reception hall, entirely devoid of occupation.

Yet, for some peculiar reason—

In direct contrast to Ransi’s severe warnings, not a single nobleman within the gathering attempted to approach Aster.

No—was it merely that they refrained from approaching?

The moment he managed to narrow the physical distance past a specific threshold, they actively drifted away from their current positions.

‘I am entirely prepared to spit blood the very instant our garments happen to brush against one another…’

So why was no one presenting him with a proper vulnerability to exploit?

Was this the collective social resistance of high society?

In the end, after circling the expanse of the room, Aster retraced his steps to his initial location, dropped back into a squat, and clicked his tongue in dissatisfaction.

‘Tch. If I intend to execute this plan, the period before Demian makes his appearance is the ideal window.’

Once the festivities officially commenced, it would feel entirely inappropriate, akin to sabotaging someone else’s celebration.

A minor dispute would easily be drowned out by the ambient noise and fade away, whereas Aster’s objective required him to expectorate blood and collapse onto the floor due to the aggressive behavior of some tyrannical aristocrat.

‘Could it be because I am not carrying a beverage?’

As his mind grew increasingly cluttered with various schemes, it wasn’t long before Aster sensed that familiar gaze locking onto him once more.

“……”

What was the purpose?

It was that same middle-aged gentleman who had been observing him previously.

However, on this occasion, he was not unaccompanied.

Standing beside him was a young woman roughly matching Paijin’s age, and given their striking physical resemblance, they appeared to be father and daughter.

As the pair observed him, Aster’s gaze locked directly with the woman’s eyes at that exact moment.

She possessed a striking aura capable of commanding the attention of an entire room instantly, and upon meeting her look, an immediate thought crossed Aster’s mind.

‘Why are you scowling at me?’

He found her expression entirely unappealing.

Thus, three, two, one…

The moment the silent countdown concluded—

After concluding her discussion with the middle-aged gentleman, the woman stepped toward Aster, permitted a subtle smile to grace her features, and offered a polite greeting.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Master Aster, if I am not mistaken? I am the firstborn daughter of House Jilrox, Rana von Jilrox.”

Displaying a crisp, radiant smile, Rana calmly assessed Aster as he remained crouched upon the floor.

Yet, for reasons unknown—

Aster offered no immediate reply.

Observing his unusually distracted, blank expression, Rana tilted her head slightly and inquired,

“…Are you perhaps not Master Aster?”

It was only then that Aster chose to react.

“Hold on a moment.”

Requesting Rana’s patience for a brief second, Aster strode over to a passing attendant, accepted a glass of wine, and returned to his spot.

Seeing this action, Rana instinctively extended her hand to receive it, but—

“This belongs to me.”

“…Ah. Of course.”

Her awkwardly positioned hand snapped back the instant he uttered that single phrase.

Rana displayed a somewhat flustered smile to mask her internal bewilderment, and around that time, Aster finally spoke.

“I am completely prepared.”

“…I beg your pardon?”

“Proceed with whatever actions you intend to take against me, to your heart’s absolute content.”

“……”

Rana remained entirely silent.

Because the meaning behind his words eluded her completely.

She merely offered a stunned stare at Aster, her thoughts working rapidly to decode the significance of his statement.

…All the while, the beverage he held gleamed with a deep, liquid crimson, perfectly resembling fresh blood.