Master 65

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“Master, with this, ruling the world will become much easier… mmph?”

Parsha, who had been chattering with sparkling eyes, suddenly stopped speaking as Whitney’s hand covered her mouth.

“Parsha… I think you have a tendency to say things that don’t need to be said.”

“…Mmph.”

Lowering her head to match Parsha’s eye level, Whitney began to whisper with a chilling smile.

“Even now—what if someone hears you and misunderstands?”

“Who else in this world is as devoted as I am?”

Even Parsha, who always roamed around with clear eyes, was at a loss for words at Whitney’s imposing aura, and it was only natural that the mood around them turned cold.

“Vassal? Crest? Have I become Sir Whitney’s subordinate…?”

“…Hmm.”

“T-That’s… not what I meant. Sir Whitney, perhaps you should reconsider…”

Only Princess Katarina, oblivious to the mood, murmured with a distressed look beside them.

“Haha, Your Highness. I think my maid misunderstood something.”

“T-Then what exactly is this?”

“Ah, this is nothing other than a blessing I bestow on those around me.”

“…A blessing?”

As Whitney, who had been quietly glancing at the princess, smiled gently and began explaining, Katarina’s eyes widened.

“Yes, you can think of it as a kind of blessing white mages give to their companions.”

“If it’s something like that, I suppose it’s fine…”

The princess rolled her eyes before cautiously opening her mouth again while watching Whitney.

“…Still, I’d prefer it if it didn’t show all the time.”

Just as she said, the crest that appeared right on her abdomen certainly looked suspicious enough to cause misunderstandings.

“Well, would there be any reason for someone else to see your stomach?”

“No, not really… but you never know with these things.”

“For someone concerned about that, you’ve managed to hide the other stuff pretty well so far.”

“…Ah.”

But as Whitney mentioned the princess’s most sensitive secret, her timid protest immediately came to an end.

“Fine… I’ll wrap it up with a bandage or something to hide it. Just please, keep that secret.”

“Haha. You’re exaggerating again.”

This time, Whitney gave the same smile he had shown Parsha to the princess and whispered softly.

“Someone might think I’m actually threatening Your Highness.”

“Hik.”

“It may look strange, but this is like a symbol of the friendship between us.”

Though it was an extremely one-sided symbol, Katarina forced herself to nod and smile along.

– Gooooo…

She wanted so badly to point out something wrong with Whitney’s words, but the heat emanating from her abdomen only intensified the more she thought about it.

“T-Thank you… I’ll treasure it…”

“Ahahaha…”

“A-Anyway, my curiosity is satisfied, so I’ll be on my way…”

Of course, Whitney’s expression was too terrifying to ask anything directly, so the princess awkwardly patted her stomach and quickly waved her hand before walking away in the opposite direction.

“Yes, then… see you next time.”

“Hmph.”

“I’ll see the rest of you back at the mansion.”

Whitney, too, could sense Meredia’s irritated presence waiting in the carriage, so the conversation ended there.

“Then I’ll be off…”

Turning away, Whitney now wore a slightly more complex expression than before as he opened the carriage door.

“Oh?”

And then, she immediately realized the ‘real’ reason behind Meredia’s foul mood.

“Br-Brother.”

“…Cecil?”

Next to Meredia, who had her head turned toward the window with a sulky expression, Cecil was sitting there nervously fidgeting with her fingers.

***

– Rattle, rattle…

Whitney was flustered by the sudden appearance of his younger sister, but regardless, the carriage began to speed away from the academy.

“Ah, wait! Please wait…!”

But from the direction of the academy gates, a voice urgently called after the carriage.

“I just wanted to say goodbye…!”

That girl’s name was none other than Adele Felgrave.

Ever since the selection match had ended in a haze, she had been trying to meet Whitney, but thanks to falling out of favor with Meredia, all her requests had been denied.

Even so, she willingly testified in Whitney’s favor and had been waiting for this day just to say goodbye.

“…You may leave now.”

“You bastards…”

“We’re only following the lady’s orders. Please don’t take it too personally.”

But at the final moment, she was blocked by Meredia’s assigned guards, and her wish remained unfulfilled.

Once Whitney’s carriage disappeared in the distance, the guards quietly withdrew, leaving behind a heavy silence.

“…I stayed up all night making this.”

In that silence, Adele dropped the snack bag she was holding with a hollow expression.

“…Ugh, sniff…”

She soon began trembling and crying quietly.

“I-I could’ve done so much more for him…”

If this were a typical romance novel, the arrogant noble lady’s first love would have ended as a painful memory.

“Hmm, really?”

“…Huh?”

But just before that fate could be sealed, someone who had been watching her closely stepped forward.

“Did you mean what you just said?”

“W-Who are you?”

“I’m… Sir Whitney’s maid. My name’s Parsha.”

It was none other than Parsha, smiling brightly with shining eyes.

“And right now, I’m forming a secret organization to support my master behind the scenes.”

“…What?”

“Our master is perfect in every way—except one. He lacks capable people under his command.”

Naturally, Adele took a step back with a confused look, but Parsha continued speaking casually.

“And… I think you’d be a great fit for that role.”

“W-What are you saying…?”

“Specifically, I think you’d be perfect as the operations commander of our soon-to-be-established secret organization.”

Adele, who had stopped backing away, replied with a wary expression.

“Y-You expect me to believe something like that from a kid like you…?”

“Hmm. That’s the kind of thing I hate hearing most. That’s why I carry this around now.”

Parsha frowned slightly and held out a card.

As Adele took the card bearing the crest of House Lingard, she had no choice but to lower her guard.

“In that case… you’re really scouting me for that organization?”

“Yes, it seems you’ve understood perfectly!”

“Ah, but… maybe it doesn’t matter anymore.”

Adele, who had momentarily become excited and asked Parsha to confirm the truth, soon looked dejected again.

“Actually… I’ve fallen out of favor with Lady Meredia.”

“……”

“If someone like me joined something like this… wouldn’t it cause trouble for Sir Whitney?”

Parsha’s eyes curved in greater satisfaction as she watched her, but Adele, who was murmuring with her head lowered, didn’t notice and continued speaking.

“I’m not even sure if he remembers me…”

“Looks like you haven’t realized yet.”

“Eek?”

Parsha, who had been silently listening, suddenly grabbed Adele’s hand and gently turned it, causing Adele to gasp and widen her eyes.

“Now, look closely.”

“T-This is just a mark from when I burned myself baking yesterday…”

“Nope. That’s not it. That’s an honorable symbol.”

To be fair, even in Parsha’s eyes, it definitely looked more like a red burn mark than a symbol.

“This is solid proof that you’ve been chosen by Sir Whitney…”

However, Parsha was someone who could tell a noble lie with her life on the line—for the sake of Whitney and his cause.

“H-How can I believe that… Ah.”

But Adele clearly remembered the moment yesterday when she burned her hand and tears welled up in her eyes, and just as she tried to shake her head in denial, her words caught in her throat.

“…What do you think?”

Instead of answering, Parsha slightly pulled down the collar at her shoulder, revealing a faint gray crest near her upper arm.

“For reference, the two behind me have also received Sir Whitney’s grace.”

“That brute-looking knight received hers on her chest, and the cute maid got hers on her back. If you don’t believe me, you can check for yourself.”

Adele, who was staring blankly at the sight, began to tremble at Parsha’s whisper, which crawled into her ears.

“Ah…”

Whether or not the mark on her hand was actually the same as the ones Whitney’s inner circle had, there was a bigger issue.

Because inscribing a magical crest on someone’s body without consent was considered a forbidden act equivalent to black magic under imperial law.

But Adele, moved by the romantic idea that her first love—who could have remained only a childhood memory—had left a mark on her, could no longer think straight.

‘…I-Isn’t this just like when the male lead, caught by the villainess, leaves a token for the heroine?’

The fact that her only hobby—secretly reading cheap romance novels stolen from maids to escape her father and the judgmental stares—was exactly that genre only fueled her runaway thoughts.

“I’m planning to consolidate Sir Whitney’s faction at the academy before we return to the estate…”

“……”

“For example, there’s Chairman Pierre from the Commoner’s Union.

Or the three third-year students who were trapped by black mages?”

As Adele’s gaze grew distant, Parsha, who had been smirking quietly, drove the final nail in.

“Do you want to cooperate, Lady Adele Felgrave?”

“I-I…”

“…If you do, I can promise you one thing.”

And for Adele, it was a proposal she absolutely could not refuse.

“In the future, the captain of Sir Whitney’s royal guard will be you. No matter what.”

“…Captain.”

“Your talents are too great to be wasted under House Felgrave. But if you’re by my master’s side, you can shine even brighter…”

Even without Whitney—the one who had stirred her heart—that part was undeniable.

She had already failed to carry out her father’s order, and didn’t stand out during the now-defunct selection match.

Graduating from the academy like this would only mean becoming a pawn for her family.

And of course, she absolutely could not accept being married off like a trade.

“…Alright.”

That’s why, after closing her eyes for a few seconds in thought, Adele finally spoke in a trembling voice and gave Parsha the answer she wanted.

“What should I do from now on?”

And at that very moment, the burn mark on the back of her hand suddenly deepened into a dark gray hue.

“Ha…”

Apparently not expecting that, Parsha stared blankly for a moment—very unlike her—and then trembled as she muttered softly.

“…No matter how far I fly, I’ll always be in my master’s palm.”

Of course, if Whitney—who was silently watching Meredia and Cecil in the carriage—had heard that, he would’ve had a huge question mark on his face.

‘Yes, this is exactly the kind of master I chose.’

In any case, the wheel of fate had already left his hands and begun to turn.

“Haha, hahaha…”

It was the birth of a royal guard unit that would go on to reinterpret every word Whitney said and shake the world—without the person in question ever knowing.

***

Meanwhile, at that very moment, in an ancient castle located in a remote region of the empire—

“Fufu… At last, the clock of destiny has begun to move.”

A girl, standing on a tower with an eye patch and her cape fluttering ominously, whispered with a dark smile.

“If the warrior of light has awakened, then surely the dark lord bound to that destiny has descended into this world as well.”

No sooner had she spoken than murmurs began to stir behind her—

“What irony. The chosen hero is one of us—children of darkness.”

“Still, we cannot trust the hypocrites of the Holy Nation. We must pierce his soul with our own cursed eyes.”

“But… do you think he can endure the trials of despair we’ve prepared?”

“Hmm. My loyal followers, that’s for me to decide.”

In the midst of the murmurs, the girl cleared her throat and suddenly raised her hand with shining eyes.

“Herald of darkness! Carry my sealed message imbued with my will. Deliver it to the chosen hero and tell him of his fate!”

And once her declaration ended, silence followed.

“…Ha.”

In that silence, a maid standing quietly at the back sighed in exasperation and spoke.

“So, basically… you just want me to send a carrier pigeon to Lord Whitney?”

“What?”

“Huh?”

The people around her shot icy stares in unison, and the maid squeezed her eyes shut as she quickly rephrased her words.

“I mean… to send a dark letter bearing the prophecy of fate to the chosen hero…”

“Yes, yes, that’s better.”

“Much more poetic.”

“…Alright then, excuse me.”

Now that her words had finally been received well, the maid hurriedly turned around and mumbled with a zen-like expression as she headed to the pigeon loft.

“Are they white mages or just overgrown kids… seriously, damn it…”

And soon after, from the base of the White Mage Alliance—Lumen Ordo—a well-trained carrier pigeon flew off to deliver the letter to perhaps the most “normal” of all white mages.

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