Intis, Trier.
Even though many clear-sighted people already believed the Delien Family was standing on the brink of collapse, this towering house remained one that most others could only look up to. Among the middle class and the politically dull-nosed factions, few could perceive the danger.
Therefore, when the Prime Minister prepared this "luscious" ball, arranged especially to entrap Owen, countless people eager to curry favor still came flocking—
They might have heard of Owen's infamous reputation, but even so, they rushed in without hesitation, even willing to offer their wives or daughters, just to gain the favor of the Delien Family.
Scanning the crowd of dazzlingly dressed women, Ebner couldn't help but curse under his breath:
"That old bastard Charlie is trying to make me die from that instead, isn't he?"
Of course, curse aside, he had no intention of refusing to attend.
For one thing, maintaining Owen's persona and soothing the Prime Minister's suspicions were both necessary—he had to let Charlie feel safe enough to dig his own grave.
Secondly… the courtesan disguised as the "Scarlet Saintess" Margaret had also been invited. Ebner planned to take this chance to confirm whether she truly was a descendant of the "God of Luck" and the "Queen of Calamities."
If she was, he would find a way to obtain some of her blood—thus fulfilling his promise to Queen of Calamities Cohinem.
—Cohinem had been bound by Roselle within the "Temple of the Elven Trial." To free her, one would need the blood of her descendant, a surviving elf to perform the Song of Calamity ritual… and, of course, a "Gatekeeper" to act as the vessel.
The "Gatekeeper" was not difficult to find; after meeting Patrick Braine, Ebner had already scouted several suitable candidates from his social circle, ready to "withdraw" one at any time. As for the surviving elves, he had already exchanged information with Sharon and was only waiting for July 7th to investigate further.
The only uncertain element left was the line of Constantine, the descendants of the "God of Luck" and "Queen of Calamities."
Glancing toward the woman in a crimson gown—beautiful, alluring, yet strangely pure—Margaret, Ebner made his brief address to the guests, then stepped forward directly to invite her for the opening dance.
As a courtesan well-versed in social etiquette, Margaret was no stranger to such invitations. Although she hadn't been notified in advance, she accepted gracefully and entered the dance floor on Owen's arm, drawing the jealous stares of many noble ladies.
"Mr. Owen, I didn't expect you to invite me for the opening dance… I can already feel Lady Halna's eyes wanting to devour me," Margaret murmured with a teasing smile, leaning closer as she cast a sidelong glance toward a woman in a green gown standing by the floor.
—Halna was Owen's long-time mistress, and it was at her home that Ebner had spent the previous night to maintain appearances.
"Halna could never be as enchanting as you, Miss Margaret. I've been away in Loen's capital for business, and to think I didn't even know such a splendid beauty had entered Trier's circles," Ebner replied smoothly, keeping his tone teasing while quietly activating his secret art to analyze her bloodline.
"Oh, I'm not new to the social scene; I simply hadn't yet reached the Delien Family's circle before now," Margaret said lightly, her expression calm—but within, the "Scarlet Saintess" was on full alert.
After all, ever since the "White Saintess" Katarina had escaped and reported to the Demoness Sect everything about her being controlled by Owen, Margaret was acutely aware of how dangerous the man before her was.
Were it not that refusing the Delien Family's invitation would have aroused suspicion against her courtesan persona, she would never have come to this ball.
Even so, she had prepared multiple contingencies in case something went wrong.
Thus, the two chatted meaninglessly until the music stopped. Ebner courteously escorted Margaret back to her seat, ending their cautious exchange.
By then, his secret art had succeeded—he confirmed that the "Scarlet Saintess" truly carried the bloodline of Oliver Constantine, the "God of Luck."
So she really is the descendant of "me" and Cohinem…
Ebner sighed inwardly, then resumed his act as Owen, circulating among the ladies of the hall. Before long, he struck up a "lively conversation" with a widow named Philo, and together they entered the dance floor.
This Philo owned shares of two factories left by her late husband. Her husband's brothers coveted the inheritance, and thus she urgently needed a powerful backer.
She was only around twenty-five or twenty-six, with a full, seductive figure and a captivating presence. Though her face was not stunningly beautiful, her curves and poise made her stand out—exactly the type Owen would favor.
Of course, that wasn't what caught Ebner's interest.
"Daphne Priestley…"
Leaning close during the waltz, he whispered the name softly into her ear.
Philo—or rather, the Scholar of Yore and vice president of the Secret Order, Daphne—stiffened in surprise, whispering back like a mosquito's buzz:
"Lord Owen, how did you recognize me?"
Your soul carries such a distinct scent of "the Unknown"—how could I not recognize you?
Ebner grumbled inwardly but didn't answer aloud. This was not the place for such a conversation, so he simply said ambiguously, "When the music ends, come with me to the lounge… and remember, don't refuse."
It's happening…?
Daphne bit her lip nervously. If possible, she would have much preferred it to be the handsome Divine Emissary rather than the lecherous Owen—though the latter wasn't exactly unattractive either.
Fortunately, it's only a puppet…
She comforted herself and followed, walking beside "Owen" under the envious gazes of many women as they entered the side room.
Just as Ebner opened the door, he suddenly turned and beckoned to Owen's mistress, Halna. The woman instantly understood, licked her lips, and proudly followed them in, closing the door behind her.
Both of them at once? Truly worthy of the "Lust" persona…
Daphne had barely finished this internal grumble when she was startled to see Owen hypnotize Halna in an instant—the woman let out soft moans as she fell under his control.
"This is…?"
Daphne froze, unable to understand what he intended.
Ebner, meanwhile, had already sealed the room with spirituality. His true body emerged from Alvin's Riddle Labyrinth, simulating the "Mystic" pathway's power to construct a hidden space.
"Divine Emissary!"
Seeing Ebner appear out of thin air, Daphne immediately realized that Owen hadn't intended to take advantage of her. Relieved, she asked respectfully,
"My lord, do you have some task for me?"
"Were you the one whom the 'Scarlet Saintess' Margaret called upon for help?" Ebner asked thoughtfully.
He recalled that in the Book of Virtue's trial space, Daphne had once summoned the three Saintesses—Red, Blue, and Green—of the Demoness Sect. It seemed likely they were familiar.
"Yes, my lord," Daphne nodded and confessed, "Margaret feared she might fall again under Lord Owen's control, so she asked me to rescue her if anything went wrong.
"Philo is one of my puppets, another identity I use in Trier. But please rest assured, my lord—Philo is not a good person. She killed her own husband for his fortune… in fact, she's done it twice before under different names."
She added this deliberately, hoping to appease the Divine Emissary. After more than a day's interaction, Daphne had already discerned some of his moral tendencies—though those were hints Ebner had allowed her to notice.
She also wanted to preemptively excuse herself for not reporting this matter earlier. To her, it hadn't seemed necessary: she served the true God, not a fellow believer like Owen. But now, with the Divine Emissary present, the situation had changed.
Ebner ignored her inner caution. After a brief moment of thought, he asked,
"Do you think if I invited Margaret here right now… would she agree to come?"
For a Beyonder, blood was extremely important. Unless absolute trust existed, no one would willingly surrender it—it was tantamount to handing over their life!
And there was no such trust between Ebner and Margaret. Negotiation was meaningless.
After all, how could he say, "I'm your great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather. Give me a drop of your blood so I can save your great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother"?
Even if Margaret were a fool, she wouldn't believe such nonsense—though it was the truth.
Therefore, there was only one way left—
to take it by force!
(End of Chapter)