As for the terrifying fact that Dark had claimed first place in the year with a score of 793...
If she hadn't already braced herself for it, Alvit would have leapt for joy and then dashed into her bedroom to secretly wipe away tears.
Ollie, the Head Maid, hadn't seen it coming at all, and her small mouth stretched into an O so wide it could have fit an entire sausage inside.
She probably hadn't yet realized that her mischievous little brother wasn't mischievous anymore.
But the excitement that followed didn't last long.
When Dark calmly described what had happened inside the Magic Guide Motorcar, the mood in the room changed at once.
While Claire was still puzzling over who had disguised themselves as a forest warden and tried to slip into Dark's dreams to pry out his secrets, Alvit's brows had already drawn tight together.
"Chris!"
"Scorpio" Chris, Head Maid of the Scorpio Palace Maid Corps, was responsible for intelligence gathering and surveillance — and assassination.
As the second Head Maid to earn the recognition of the Twelve Golden Holy Vestments, Chris had already turned twenty-five this year, but her petite frame and delicate sensibilities still made her seem as dainty as a young girl.
The moment Alvit called her name, she emerged silently from the shadows, without a sound.
A trace of cold sharpness entered Alvit's voice. "Find them."
"Three days."
Chris murmured the words, then stepped back and slipped once more into the shadows.
Alvit's brow gradually smoothed, and she took a slow sip of red wine, her tone easing. "Come to think of it, more and more restless people seem to be showing up lately. I'm on the side of the doves, but peace really does make people forgetful."
Claire smiled. "That's just human nature's flaw. Sometimes we can't even control ourselves."
"Which is exactly why shackles are needed," said Alvit.
Law was a shackle, morality was a shackle — what they bound wasn't freedom, but the demons lurking in the heart.
Alvit herself was no paragon of morality, but she saw things clearly enough.
...
After dinner, once the carriage escorted by Leomon finally arrived at the Duke's estate, Dark bid his mother and aunt goodnight and carried his heap of luggage into his own bedroom.
The long-unused room was still spotless, without a speck of dust.
Ollie wanted to come in and help him unpack, but he smiled and shut her out the door.
Once the door had clicked shut, Dark drew out "[[Paradise]]" from his card pouch.
Then, without holding back, he fully unfolded "[[Paradise]]"!
Before Ollie had even recovered from the sting of being turned away by her little brother, she was startled to see a surge of magic power come pouring out of the bedroom — a web of glowing lines crawling instantly beneath her feet and spreading across the entire second floor!
One building after another, each looking as though it had stepped straight out of a fairy tale, began rising up along both sides of the corridor.
The buildings didn't damage the walls; they simply made the corridor's space feel narrower.
The "[[Paradise]]" facilities, arranged just right on either side, gave the hallway the feeling of stepping into a dream.
Dark stood at the very center of his bedroom, eyes shut tight, relying on his absolute familiarity with his surroundings to guide "[[Paradise]]" as it continued to unfold.
By the time he stopped, the entire second floor of the estate had been completely transformed.
Of course, he made sure "[[Paradise]]" never touched any of the rooms people actually lived in.
Knock, knock, knock!
A hurried knocking suddenly sounded.
Dark glanced toward the door. Sylveon had already scampered over and used her ribbon tendrils to unlock it.
But the moment she saw it was Ollie standing outside, she slammed the door shut with a bang.
Shut out once again, Ollie sucked in a sharp breath, so indignant she felt as though her heart might swell right out of her chest.
But in that brief instant the door had opened, she'd caught a glimpse of Dark using a Magic Guide Card, so her worry eased, and she finally turned and walked away.
...
Once Dark had successfully unfolded [[Paradise]], he summoned the Magic Guide Scribe and had it summon all the other Magic Guide Spirits one by one.
As for himself, he joined the already-summoned Magic Guide Spirits in unpacking his luggage.
First came Catnip.
Having been "hibernating" in a suitcase for three days, Catnip was in desperate need of "Cat Juice" to be revived.
Dark lifted the Catnips out of the suitcase one by one, then dosed each with the potion that broke their "hibernation," and watched as they gradually woke up.
First was the short-haired Catnip, then Fox Grass, Cow Grass, Dragon Grass, and Lion Grass.
Once all five Catnip variants had woken up, Dark's bedroom suddenly felt like a zoo, brimming with cheerful energy.
Before long, the rest of the Magic Guide Spirits had all been summoned, and the room grew even livelier.
His bedroom was several times larger than his dormitory room at the Academy, so even summoning out a Blue-Eyes Baby Dragon didn't make it feel the least bit cramped.
The room also had a number of partitions dividing it into several separate spaces.
He first marked off an area and laid down the cushions the Catnips liked.
Then he moved his experimental supplies and materials into another partition, and set the Insect Tree out on the spacious balcony.
After that, he remade the large bed that Ollie used to sleep in, turning it into a temporary bed for the Magic Guide Spirits.
Even though the Duke's estate had no shortage of rooms to spare, Dark had grown used to keeping all these things close at hand, and had no intention of changing that.
By the time all the luggage had been sorted out, it was already deep into the night.
In good spirits, Dark scooped Popplio up into his arms and said with a grin, "Let's go somewhere nice."
...
With that, he led a whole crowd of Magic Guide Spirits out of the bedroom and soon arrived at the bathroom on the second floor.
The bathroom was as spacious as a swimming hall and had everything one could want.
Dark twisted the water valve, letting hot water pour slowly from the mouth of a lion-shaped fixture, gradually filling the large square bathing pool.
"Momo!"
Popplio dove excitedly into the pool at once.
This was the first time in its life it had ever seen such a huge pool of water, and it was overjoyed beyond words.
Dark grabbed the bath towel he'd prepared in advance from the counter, stripped off his clothes, and stepped into the pool.
Before long, all of the Magic Guide Spirits had piled into the bath, even Honedge leaning against the corner — not afraid of rusting at all.
Steam rose thicker and thicker, filling the bathroom with mist.
Dark soaked comfortably in the pool, all the fatigue draining from his body.
...
The next day was June sixth.
The Duke's estate had been unusually busy since early morning.
Because today was the young master's birthday!
After nine months away, the young master had finally come home, and it happened to coincide with his birthday — of course it called for a proper celebration.
The Duke's estate, however, had always kept a low profile in private matters, rarely mixing closely with other noble families.
Because of her heavy workload, Alvit didn't often attend the tea parties held by the noblewomen either.
This time, as usual, she planned only to invite family members and a few close friends to the banquet.
Of course, there were bound to be a few exceptions.
Eldest Princess Eliza had risen very early to handle state affairs, and before long an attendant brought her an invitation.
She glanced at the family crest on the invitation and set it aside for the time being.
There was no way she'd forget the Valkyrie's son's birthday — she could look at it again later.
"Oh, right." A thought suddenly struck her, and she asked the attendant, "Did the Second and Third Princesses send anything?"
The attendant answered at once, "Yes, they did."
"I see." Eliza's gaze shifted. She realized that the offhand remarks the Valkyrie sometimes made might not have been jokes after all.
...
The Greatbear family.
The training grounds...
Poor Diana had been hauled out of bed by her father early on her second morning home.
During the school term she could sleep soundly until past seven, but the moment she came home for break, she was dragged out of bed at five.
Viscount Greatbear called it, quite grandly, "rehabilitation training"!
But did Diana even need "rehabilitation"?
Of course she did.
At the Academy, she hadn't slacked off much in her studies, but she'd been shamelessly lazy about her physical training!
Even someone born with natural strength would see it fade without proper upkeep.
And for a true warrior, raw strength alone was never enough.
"Blade, spear, sword, or halberd — pick one."
Under the morning sun, Viscount Greatbear, as imposing as a lion, held four weapons in one hand and asked Diana the question.
"Spear."
Diana took the spear her father tossed to her, expression blank, and without warning thrust it forward in a move like a coiling dragon.
Greatbear casually flicked it aside, using the hilt of a blade to press against the spear tip, then in one fluid motion switched to a halberd and swept it hard toward Diana's spear!
As the saying went, an extra inch of reach meant an extra edge in strength — pitting a halberd against a spear was the perfect match!
In an instant, the clash of spear and halberd exploded wildly across the training grounds.
The clan members and children standing around the edge of the training grounds couldn't help but tense up in sudden focus.
Nine months apart, and Diana's spearwork was every bit as ferocious as before, as though she'd been born for this alone.
But looking closer, more than a few sharp-eyed onlookers were startled to notice that Diana's spearwork had actually changed!
Within that same unyielding ferocity, there was now a touch of finesse, a touch of fluid grace!
For a girl who used to think of nothing but "charge, charge, charge," this was simply unbelievable.
"Last night I heard [Little Bear] placed fifth in the year on her final exams, and I figured they must've dropped a couple of digits," a sturdy young man in his twenties muttered.
A woman even sturdier than him said, "No wonder I heard a lion's roar last night — that must've been the Viscount."
"Can someone please tell me what's going on?" A muscular teenage boy of seventeen or eighteen clutched his head in anguish. "Diana's gotten complicated!"
The murmurs gathered into a buzz like swarming bees.
Then, from the shaded side of the grounds, a tall woman with long silver hair approached, and the murmuring quietly died down.
Camilla, the Silver Wolf Knight, now Viscountess Greatbear and Diana's mother.
To have tamed Viscount Greatbear into such an obedient husband, the Viscountess obviously hadn't relied on looks alone.
Even within the Greatbear family, famed for its martial prowess, few could match her.
She narrowed her eyes, watching father and daughter spar, and wasn't at all surprised that her daughter had suddenly grown some sense — after all, she'd already been surprised enough the night before!
"My lady, what's that in your hand?" the sturdy woman asked, curious.
Camilla raised the item in her hand, saying meaningfully, "Just an invitation."
...
The Flotly Viscount's estate.
Viscount Flotly and his wife stared at the invitation placed in the middle of the table, especially at the strikingly prominent family crest on it, and said nothing.
Viscount Flotly had an ordinary appearance and had put on a bit of weight; the curly hair on his head could more accurately be called yellow than golden.
The Viscountess, with her veil removed, wore a stern, cold expression, though a hint of mischief hid at the corners of her eyes.
As one of the once most noble surnames in the kingdom...
The Flotly family had known absolute glory, but that was all in the past now.
Since ancient times, the Flotly family had always drawn a strict line between the main line and its branch families.
Only the main line carried the true inheritance; anyone outside the direct heir was demoted to a branch family, cut off from even the smallest trace of the family's true legacy.
So when the main bloodline suddenly died out, the entire inheritance system of the family collapsed in an instant.
And now, only this branch of Viscount Flotly's remained.
Though Viscount Flotly had inherited part of the wealth left behind by the main line, mere money alone couldn't get him into the true circles of power.
Between viscounts, the gap between those with real power and those without was enormous.
Viscount Flotly had always drifted along the fringes of the aristocracy, never truly accepted into its inner circle.
And though the Viscountess was often invited to tea parties among the noblewomen, she was never more than a supporting player there.
No matter how hard she tried to build connections with people, her lack of true pedigree only ever made her a punchline.
She resented it deeply, but there was nothing to be done.
The world was simply that cruel.
And yet now, an invitation from the most dazzling family of the present age — the Demon family — lay quietly on the table before them.
A chance to effortlessly kick open the door to the heavens had appeared, just like that.
So what was the price?
Gold leaf didn't fall from the sky — gain always came with loss.
Viscountess Flotly swallowed hard and asked, "Simon, should we go to tonight's birthday banquet?"
Simon Flotly's eyes clouded with confusion. "Of course we're going — but why would His Grace the Duke suddenly invite our whole family to his household's banquet?"
"Probably... because of Rose," the Viscountess said quietly, recalling last night's conversation.
"Rose?" Simon Flotly's gaze wandered. "Because of that troublemaker from the Demon family? I think he also received his admission invitation to St. Marian last year, didn't he?"
The Viscountess nodded. "You remember right. They're classmates."
Simon Flotly let out a breath of relief. "So it's just a birthday invitation between classmates."
But the Viscountess said gravely, "Do you really think it's that simple?"
Simon Flotly frowned. "Don't tell me he's taken a liking to Rose — or that the Demon family has its eye on some lost inheritance of ours?"
"I don't know," the Viscountess sighed. "We haven't paid nearly enough attention to Rose lately. Did you know she placed thirteenth in her year at St. Marian's Academy, a school packed with geniuses?"
Viscount Simon Flotly looked visibly surprised. "Thirteenth isn't bad at all — shouldn't we get her some kind of reward?"
The Viscountess sighed helplessly. "That's not the point. I've heard some rumors lately, but I'm not sure they're true."
"What rumors?" Simon Flotly asked.
The Viscountess said, "That troublemaker seems to have turned over a new leaf."
"Is that thanks to St. Marian's education?" Simon Flotly said. "If it's St. Marian, that would make sense."
The Viscountess went on, "Last night, Rose told me that troublemaker even placed first in the entire first-year class."
Simon Flotly's mouth fell open into an O. "Truly worthy of being the Valkyrie's son — once he sets himself on the right path, there's no limit to his future."
The Viscountess nodded with a touch of envy. "If only our own little treasure could get an invitation to St. Marian's Academy too. Anyway, it does seem like Rose and that troublemaker get along well. I didn't quite believe it last night, not until this invitation showed up right in front of me. How far do you think things have gone between the two of them?"
Simon Flotly frowned. "Say what you will, but our Rose is quite beautiful — no telling if that boy's got less than pure intentions."
The Viscountess asked again, "So should we just go along with it, or..."
Simon Flotly's expression turned serious. "My dear, this isn't as simple as you think. Without enough capacity, you can't hold up something so heavy. Getting too close to the Demon family brings more than just opportunity. I may not amount to much myself, but I won't let the Flotly bloodline die out in my branch. We need to think this through carefully. Let's ask Rose what she thinks first."
The Viscountess said without thinking, "What would she know?"
Viscount Simon Flotly countered, "Didn't she place thirteenth in her year at St. Marian's Academy, a school packed with geniuses?"
The Viscountess: "..."
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