TOM Chapter 20

Patter patter, the rain poured down without warning.

For autumn rain, it fell with bold intensity, blurring the scenery outside the window into a hazy wash.

The young man sat slouched on the sofa wearing only a silk robe, staring down at the glass cup in his hands with vacant, unfocused eyes.

The snake pattern etched into the surface—suddenly yesterday's words drifted back to mind.

"Be careful of snakes."

What could they have known when they said that?

Julian's lips curved into a bitter twist.

Desperate, broken pleading shattered his brooding thoughts.

"I'm sorry, young master! It was my mistake! Please, please just once more...!"

He slowly turned his gaze to the side.

A servant knelt trembling on the floor, and scattered before him were the glittering shards of Julian's most prized liquor.

Shattered into pieces, no longer drinkable.

The butler asked.

"What shall we do?"

"Send him away from the estate."

"Understood."

The wailing servant was dragged out just like that.

He would be cast out of the estate without even a letter of recommendation, but Julian felt not a trace of sympathy.

At least the liquor the servant broke was worth several times more than the man's life, so he should be grateful instead.

"What about the liquor?"

"Well... what was left among the remaining ones?"

"Shall I bring the liquor you received as a gift yesterday?"

The liquor brewed by the gypsy tribe, you mean?

Normally he wouldn't have even glanced at it, but perhaps because the weather was gloomy, he felt like indulging in a whim.

Julian nodded, and soon a black bottle was placed on the table.

Declining the butler who tried to open it for him, Julian personally pulled out the cork.

Then.

*Hiss!*

"Young master!"

A snake burst out from the liquor bottle.

He quickly turned his face away and wasn't bitten, but his cheek was scratched.

"Ha."

Julian touched the drops of blood forming on his face and let out a bitter laugh.

So this was what those words meant.

"Be careful of snakes."

"Double the bad luck indeed."

The young man who had expelled the venomous energy from his system rose smoothly from his seat.

The deadly snake coiled and struck out at him again, but found itself completely immobilized by the thick purple vines that had wound tightly around its writhing body.

Julian brought his heel down on the snake, grinding it into the floor as he spoke with savage coldness.

"Bring the one who gave this gift before me."

The butler bowed his head.

The eventful palace ball had ended.

When I somehow managed to return to the count's estate, I immediately collapsed into sleep.

And the next morning.

"Betty, I'm supposed to meet His Grace the Duke in three days. Please mark it on the calendar."

"What kind of story is it?"

"It's difficult to discuss here. There are far too many people around to have such a secretive conversation."

"You said you came here to talk to me, didn't you? But this isn't really talking—it's more like giving advance notice?"

"I was simply respecting darling's schedule. I'll come to pick you up in three days."

Perhaps he was deliberately targeting the psychology of growing more anxious the longer the waiting period dragged on.

I tried to lighten my mood.

Betty marked the date on the calendar while sharing other news.

"Oh, Miss Siora. The palace ball incident made it into the newspapers."

Betty brought over a pile of newspapers.

As if the newspaper companies had conspired together, Kruelo's face was plastered on the front page of every single one.

He was smiling with a pleased expression, which made me want to pick a fight with the piece of paper.

Having fun? Of course you'd find it fun.

I scowled as I read through the newspapers line by line.

Surprisingly, there was no mention of my story, which was curious...

"Hmm?"

"Unauthorized Performance by the Rekaenon Sect, Is This Really Okay?"

I blinked at the passage printed in the corner.

Rekaenon?

"The Rekaenon sect once again performed an unauthorized puppet show at this harvest festival. They distributed souvenirs to the audience afterward, which turned out to be extremely poisonous substances that could cause death if inhaled. While there have been no fatalities yet, since 80% of the audience consisted of children under 7 years old, the temple will not overlook this..."

"That's right. This is holy water that the Saint instructed us to distribute to those celebrating the harvest festival."

So what I received back then was poison?

But it did have divine power.

Kruelo's words also came floating back hazily.

"Just in case, darling. You can't use that holy water."

"It's old and spoiled. I had trouble when I used it before."

He had even cast tracking magic on one of the priests.

This is suspiciously problematic beyond words.

I rummaged through drawers wondering where I had put the holy water I received before, then gave up after 5 seconds.

It's someone else's business, so it's bothersome.

"What are you looking for?"

"Mm. The bottle I brought back when I went to the harvest festival."

"Ah... I stored that separately, but where was it..."

"It's not urgent, so just give it to me later when you see it."

"Yes, I'll do that. And more invitations came—"

"Not going."

"I figured you'd say that, so I already burned them."

Quite impressive work.

I nodded my head with great satisfaction.

Today's schedule complete!

...Or so I thought.

"He really looks sick."

I said while looking at Gavotte.

His complexion was deathly pale, and unable to bear the fever, his eyelids were only half open.

I came after Betty told me he was sick, but it's worse than I imagined.

Gavotte let out a hollow laugh.

"You specifically called me out of the bedroom and that's what you have to say?"

"No, that was because Betty told me to go see... and I came because I thought you might be bored."

"I am bored, but *cough*."

A cough burst out and he covered his mouth with the back of his hand.

Hmm.

Being congenitally weak, or falling into a frozen lake, or overexerting his body?

It was curious that he'd gotten sick without any such catalyst.

"What are you staring at? First time seeing a sick person?"

"No. I was carefully pondering what words might actually be comforting."

"So what exactly are you going to say?"

I offered my words of comfort with the utmost heartfelt sincerity.

"Oh dear."

"That's infuriating, so just keep your mouth shut until I get better."

"..."

I looked around and found a notebook.

I wrote in it with a fountain pen and held it out to Gavotte.

「Oh dear.」

"Can't you just go back to your room?"

「Noona is worried about you, that's why—」

Gavotte snatched the notebook away and tore it up.

While doing so, perhaps getting a headache, he pressed his forehead and suffered.

"Ugh!"

I should stay quiet.

"If I'm making it harder for you by being here, I'll go back. You shouldn't overdo it when you're sick."

"...Never mind, being bored is worse."

"Then can I ask you something I'm curious about?"

"You were just pretending to be dejected, weren't you. So what is it?"

"About spirits. Why can't you summon them?"

He frowned sharply, then tried to say something before slowly changing his expression.

Gavotte stared at me intently.

"Come to think of it, you're also a Bonetti now."

"Huh?"

"Stand up, let's have you try summoning once too."

Eh?

And so, quite unexpectedly, I found myself about to attempt spirit summoning.

In a secret space of the count's estate I didn't even know existed... though it had good lighting, but anyway.

I stood there blankly in a room made for a specific purpose.

Gavotte lifted the carpet on the floor and brought over some books.

Then he began drawing exactly what was in the book onto the floor.

For someone who claims to be sick, he's being unnecessarily diligent.

"Gavotte, family treasures should be valued preciously. You can't just teach them to anyone."

"Yes yes, Miss Siora 'Bonetti,' daughter of Count Bonetti."

"You opposed my adoption."

"My opposition was also opposed. My head hurts, so be quiet."

Using that all-purpose shield to silence me, Gavotte continued his work.

I glanced at the contents of the book he was holding.

A pentagram in the center, with ancient script intricately woven into the formation.

"Isn't the middle part too faded?"

"This is years old, of course it is."

"Didn't you cast preservation magic on it?"

"That's only been widespread for less than 200 years."

How fascinating.

"But I probably won't be able to summon anything anyway. I'm not blood-related to the Bonettis."

"Be quiet. You asked why you can't summon spirits, so I'm trying to show you the reason."

So he was holding a grudge.

Petty Gavotte.

"You just insulted me in your head, didn't you."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize when you do that. It's frustrating."

"Gavotte's heart is like pudding. Oh, you drew that part wrong."

"Where?"

"3 o'clock direction third one, 4 o'clock direction sixth one, 11 o'clock direction first one."

"Huh? I didn't draw it wrong. How many times do you think I've drawn this? Would I get it wrong?"

Getting it wrong and not even knowing it's wrong, how pitiful.

It's not that I don't trust Gavotte specifically, but I knew how to interpret ancient script.

Drawing it like that would actually create obstacles in the flow.

No wonder he can't summon spirits.

It's like blocking a doghouse door with a plank and trying to call a puppy.

Only a strong dog would break through the plank; ordinary puppies would just sit there whimpering.

Gavotte, you fool.

"Alright, try it."

Not knowing what I was thinking, Gavotte straightened his back.

"Yes."

"Drop blood in the center with this, then touch the formation and read the passage."

I knew the formation itself was wrong, but I didn't bother to correct it.

Spirits aren't such a common talent anyway, so there's no way one would appear.

Of course, I'm multi-talented and can do anything, but if I summoned a spirit too, wouldn't that be too inhuman?

But for now, I did as Gavotte instructed, cutting my fingertip with the dagger and reading the text.

"I beseech the sublime nature that forms the world, the breath of life, the sacred flow, I ask the great wind that carries the four seasons."

And so on.

It means asking to confirm if I'm qualified to contract with a wind spirit.

Expecting nothing to happen, I recited the incantation half-heartedly.

However, from the middle of the summoning spell, mana began being sucked into the formation.

Whooooo, what started as a small sound gradually grew stronger.

When massive amounts of mana flowed back and forth, I heard a roaring sound.

The reaction was far from ordinary.

Good heavens.

"I really am inhuman."

Once again today, I dealt a great sense of deprivation to the people of the world.

Including Gavotte, of course.

"What, what is this!"

A massive presence could be felt from beyond the formation.

A soul freer and wilder than anything in the world.

The sensation of it opening its eyes and looking at me was vivid.

As if showing off its power, whirlwinds began forming in circles around the formation.

I wonder what it looks like—I am curious, but hmm...

"I give up!"

I cleanly lifted my hands from the formation.

Even so, for a moment my vision went dizzy.

I nearly had my soul pulled out.

My original body would have been fine, but since I'm living in someone else's body, I can't handle such tremendous force.

If I died like this, my name would go down in history books in a different sense.

"I failed, Gavotte."

When the wind had calmed, I looked at Gavotte and said this.

He had a completely dumbfounded expression.

"Failed? But just now..."

"What, do you have complaints about me failing?"

"...Would I?"

Gavotte blinked with a suspicious face, but he seemed to think it was his imagination.

He soon became triumphant and puffed out his chest.

"See? I told you it wasn't easy."

"I get it, so Gavotte, you try it too."