「WORTHON'S MANOR」
The troublemakers from the hill were given a brief chance to make themselves presentable before lunch.
G6 had changed into a simple burgundy dress, with red roses pinned to the left side of her chest. Her hair fell loose in soft curls, and the little makeup she wore left her features almost bare. If anything, the simplicity made her beauty more apparent.
She now sat in a dining hall considerably larger than the one the family usually used. The ceiling rose high above an absurdly long table, while portraits of Worthon ancestors lined the walls. At its head, Duke William and Duchess Reyna occupied two elegantly carved chairs.
Lord Ray sat to the Duke's left, followed by G6 and Lord Ron. Farther along their side were Lord Nash, Lady Sienna, the twins, Jake and Josh, and Charlene. Across from them sat Count Wilfred Worthon, Marquess Judeo Thonson, Marquess Henry Worthon, and Count Benjamin Viremont, each with his wife beside him.
Beyond those familiar faces, the table continued through other branches of the family who had arrived that morning.
G6 looked down its length while cutting her food.
This is one hell of a table.
And this wasn't even the entire family.
Lunch had already begun. Relatives exchanged greetings between bites, picked up conversations interrupted by arriving dishes, and caught up with people seated far beyond comfortable speaking distance.
Yet she could hear them.
An older woman several seats past Charlene asked someone opposite her a question. Her voice remained perfectly moderate, but the words reached G6 as clearly as though the woman sat nearby.
G6 paused, sensing the familiar spell spread throughout the room.
"Whisper of Gale?" she muttered.
"Well, as you can see, Rei, the table is rather long." Lord Ray glanced toward its far end. "It lets us speak normally without having to shout."
"You're sensitive," Count Wilfred remarked from across the table. He smiled at her. "To think you could sense a spell cast by an SS-Ranker. His Grace, no less."
Her brow twitched.
SS-Rank?
The Duke?
She glanced toward the head of the table. Her father was eating with the same composed expression he had worn when she sat down.
"Indeed," she said.
Her knife resumed its work a moment later.
Count Wilfred's smile turned playful. "Then again, you were one of those who excavated the hill." His gaze shifted to Marquess Henry and Count Viremont. "Along with these two, who were supposed to be the adults present."
"Ahem." Marquess Henry cleared his throat and reached for his glass.
Count Viremont offered an awkward smile.
Beside Henry, Marchioness Celestine set down her fork and looked at her husband. He took rather more time over his drink than necessary.
"I wasn't expecting you cousins to play quite so roughly," Marchioness Helena Thonson said. "Especially you, Nash. You're one of the renowned Five Angels, yet you were among the instigators."
Lord Nash looked away, his mouth settling into a pout.
G6 watched him for a second before returning to her plate.
"Don't be so harsh on him, Helena," Countess Maribel said with a smile. "This is the only place he can act without restraint or worry about people gawking at him."
Nash straightened a little at that.
"That's right, Aunties!" Lord Ron joined in. "It's a rare occasion for the family to gather without being suspected of plotting treason, after all."
Count Wilfred laughed.
Duke Worthon looked at him.
The laugh stopped. Wilfred lowered his eyes to his plate and took a sudden interest in his lunch.
"How many times must I tell you to watch your mouth, Ron?" the Duke asked.
"My bad for telling the truth."
G6 kept chewing.
Beside her, Lord Ray lowered his glass carefully. Lord Ron, finally noticing that their father's attention had not moved elsewhere, turned to her with entirely unconvincing casualness.
"Anyway, how was earlier, Rei?"
"I told you to ask me after lunch, didn't I?"
Lord Ron narrowed his eyes. "That means you're never going to tell me!"
"Glad you know."
He stared at her. She cut another bite.
"Reise."
G6 turned toward the head of the table.
Her father was looking at her now.
"Are you enjoying your time here?" Duke Worthon asked.
She delayed her answer, studying his face. The question sounded simple enough. That didn't make her any quicker to answer it.
"It wasn't that bad."
Her gaze drifted to the chair beside him.
Duchess Worthon had been quiet since the meal began. She looked troubled, her attention seemingly elsewhere until she caught G6 watching her. Then she forced a smile.
What's with her?
G6 didn't smile back. She turned to her food.
"Lady Reise is really great! You know, earlier…"
Jake's voice drew several pairs of eyes toward their side of the table.
"Oh?" An older woman farther down leaned forward a little. "Should we be asking you about the hill, then?"
Jake's enthusiasm faltered under the sudden attention. "Well…"
"Perhaps after we've finished eating," Marchioness Thonson said.
"Mother, you were just talking about it," Lord Nash pointed out.
"I was talking to you."
Lord Ron made a small sound into his glass. Lord Nash shot him a look.
"So were they truly playing?" a gentleman farther down asked Count Wilfred. "From the way you described it, I thought someone had decided the grounds needed work."
"An ambitious interpretation," Count Wilfred replied. "You should ask the two gentlemen who supervised."
"We were there," Marquess Henry said.
"Yes," Marchioness Celestine replied. "That is the part we have established."
Laughter travelled up the table. Even Count Viremont's awkward smile widened, though he wisely left Marquess Henry to answer for himself.
G6 took another bite while the attention passed over her.
Good. Plenty of suspects available.
"And did your boys help with this work?" the older woman asked Marchioness Celestine.
Jake and Josh both looked up.
"We didn't do anything," Jake said.
Josh nudged him.
Marchioness Celestine turned her eyes on them. "Then you were doing very well."
The woman laughed and settled back in her chair. "I should have waited until after lunch to ask. Everyone is suddenly very busy eating."
"Finally a suggestion that makes sense," G6 said.
Lord Ron looked at her. "You'd agree with anything that lets you keep eating."
"Try saying something useful and we'll find out."
Lord Ray passed her the dish she had been reaching toward before Lord Ron could answer.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Farther down, a woman turned toward Countess Maribel. "We barely had a moment to speak when we arrived. I meant to come back, but every time I turned around, someone else was greeting you."
Countess Maribel smiled. "You should have rescued me."
"And be accused of keeping you to myself?"
"You could have tried," Count Wilfred said.
"You had quite enough people keeping you occupied," his wife told him.
"Who am I to neglect our guests?"
"Your relatives, Count Worthon. We know you," the woman replied.
Their end of the table laughed again. As Countess Maribel asked after the woman's morning, another gentleman addressed Marquess Thonson, drawing him into a conversation that soon included two people opposite him. G6 let their voices pass while she ate.
There were advantages to this ridiculous arrangement. No one needed to leave their seat to speak to someone, and no one had to shout across the dishes.
G6 leaned back in her chair, thwarted for the moment. Beyond her brother, Lord Nash had finally stopped pouting and was answering a relative who had called his name. Lady Sienna listened, occasionally adding a word, while the twins bent their attention to something Charlene was saying.
A serving dish made its way down the table. Countess Charlotte Viremont moved her glass aside to give it room, and the conversation briefly broke into requests to pass this or that.
G6 finished what remained on her plate. When Lord Ray offered the dish again, she helped herself to a little more.
Lord Ron glanced at it, then at her.
She met his eyes without putting down the serving spoon.
"Still lunch."
"I didn't say anything."
"For once."
Lunch continued in much the same fashion, with conversations rising and falling along the table. G6 had never been particularly fond of noisy gatherings, and this arrangement was hardly to her taste. Still, she remained in her seat, answering when addressed and occasionally joining the conversation. Whatever her personal preferences, she was here as Reise Worthon—the Duke's daughter—and there were certain expectations she could not simply disregard.
❈.❈.❈
The tedious lunch had ended, and the relatives gradually dispersed throughout the manor. Some approached Duke Worthon to discuss matters that had been postponed during the meal, while several of the ladies gathered around Duchess Reyna to inquire about the preparations for tomorrow's Veneration. Elsewhere, the gentlemen resumed their usual conversations, catching up on family affairs and whatever business had occupied them since their last gathering.
Before anyone could draw her into another unwanted conversation, G6 slipped away.
By the time she reached the residential wing, the noise of the dining hall had faded behind her. The corridors were comparatively quiet, with only the occasional servant passing through.
It was a welcome change.
The past few days had been troublesome, to say the least.
Even so, her time on the hill had helped more than she cared to admit. Watching her cousins spar, learning the Worthons' Wind techniques, experimenting with Sword Aura, and participating in what eventually became a ridiculous battle had given her something else to occupy her mind.
Something she could understand.
There were movements to anticipate, spells to examine, techniques to master, and opponents whose intentions were considerably easier to read than those of the people supposedly guiding her through this world.
And unlike the questions troubling her, those were problems she could actually do something about.
At least that was fun.
The corner of her mouth twitched.
Though those idiots nearly turned the whole hill into a fucking excavation site.
She wasn't entirely innocent in that matter, either.
For a while, the peculiar incident in the little forest had seemed less urgent. The questions hadn't disappeared, but she had managed to keep herself occupied enough not to dwell on them.
And perhaps that was all she needed.
For now.
She was approaching the corridor leading to her chambers when a familiar silhouette caught her attention.
Someone stood alone on the open balcony overlooking the gardens.
G6 slowed.
For a moment, it was almost like looking at a reflection of herself.
Soft, rose-gold curls fell over delicate shoulders. The woman's complexion was porcelain-pale, and her features bore the same refined beauty G6 had grown accustomed to seeing in the mirror. Yet where G6 possessed grey eyes, the woman's were a crystalline jade, clear and enchanting even from a distance.
Duchess Reyna Worthon.
Her mother.
G6 stopped a few steps from the balcony entrance.
The Duchess had not noticed her. She stood with one hand resting against the stone railing, gazing toward the gardens below.
There was something unusual about her expression.
The composed, affectionate woman who greeted G6 with a smile whenever they met seemed absent. In her place stood someone burdened by a sadness she made no effort to conceal.
Melancholy?
G6 studied her.
It looked almost like longing, though the longer she watched, the less certain she became. There was something mournful about the Duchess's gaze, as though she yearned for something that could no longer be found—or perhaps something that had never existed in the first place.
What's with her?
Whatever troubled the Duchess was none of G6's concern.
She had no reason to involve herself in another person's emotions. Reyna Worthon was an adult, perfectly capable of managing whatever was weighing on her mind.
Not my problem.
Having settled that, G6 intended to continue toward her room.
She took a step.
Then stopped.
Her eyes returned to the solitary figure on the balcony.
...Tsk.
Before she could reconsider, she turned toward her mother.
A few moments later, she found herself standing quietly behind the Duchess, staring at her back.
What the fuck am I even doing here?
She had no particular reason to approach her.
And yet—
Before she could turn around and leave, Duchess Reyna seemed to sense her presence.
She looked over her shoulder.
For a brief moment, the sadness remained.
Then it vanished beneath the familiar, loving smile G6 had come to recognize.
"My dear daughter."
G6 regarded her quietly.
"Is everything okay?"
The question seemed to catch the Duchess by surprise. Her eyebrows drew together slightly as she studied G6's face.
Then she turned her gaze toward the roses blooming in the garden below.
"Mother is alright, my dearest."
G6 did not immediately respond.
She glanced at the woman's hand resting against the railing before looking toward the garden herself.
"You've been quiet ever since it was decided that I'll be doing the candle tribute."
The Duchess's fingers grew still.
G6 noticed.
"Not that I care," she muttered.
A faint, bitter smile touched Duchess Reyna's lips.
"I am merely your mother, my dear. I cannot allow my selfish desire to keep you close to stand between you and the Messenger of the Heavens, especially when its statue shone with such delight on the night you were born."
"So I've heard."
G6's reply was neither particularly cold nor warm. She simply acknowledged what had been said, offering nothing further.
Still, the words brought back something she had heard on another night.
I simply thought your change was the will of the Messenger of the Heavens...
Her gaze returned to the Duchess.
There she goes again.
That same Messenger.
That same peculiar certainty.
G6 had never been satisfied with the explanation she overheard in the outdoor corridor. Nor had she forgotten how her mother's expression changed when Lady Sienna proposed that she light the ceremonial candle.
Now the woman stood before her looking as though she were preparing to lose something.
Or perhaps she had already lost something.
What the hell do you know?
Before G6 could decide whether to question her, Duchess Reyna stepped away from the railing.
One step.
Then another.
G6 watched her approach.
On the third, the Duchess reached for her.
And pulled her into a tight embrace.
G6 stiffened.
Huh?
Her mother's arms wrapped securely around her shoulders. One hand rose to the back of her head, gently caressing her rose-gold curls.
For several moments, Duchess Reyna said nothing.
G6 remained still, her arms resting awkwardly at her sides.
She could have stepped away.
She knew that.
Yet she didn't.
"My dearest child," the Duchess whispered.
Her voice trembled.
"Know that whatever you are, you will always be my daughter. The child I brought into this world. My precious blessing, for whom I shall remain forever grateful."
G6's eyes narrowed slightly.
Whatever I am?
The choice of words was peculiar.
But before she could dwell on it, she felt the Duchess tighten her embrace.
"Please forgive your incompetent mother," Duchess Reyna continued, her voice breaking. "There is so little I can do... so little I can do to protect you."
G6 went completely still.
The Duchess slowly drew back, though her hands remained upon her daughter's shoulders.
Her beautiful jade eyes had filled with tears.
For a moment, Reyna simply looked at her, as though trying to commit every detail of her face to memory.
Then the tears spilled over.
"Oh, my poor child..."
Her trembling hand rose to G6's cheek.
"This world doesn't deserve you."
❈.❈.❈
After her strange encounter with Duchess Reyna on the balcony, G6 had wanted nothing more than to be left alone.
Her mother had eventually excused herself, blaming her tears on a moment of sentimentality before walking away with that familiar, loving smile.
That woman spouted a bunch of cryptic nonsense, started crying, and then ran away under the guise of being sentimental.
G6 clicked her tongue.
And she had the nerve to leave me with more questions.
Whatever her mother knew, she had the distinct feeling that pursuing an explanation now would get her nowhere.
As though—
"It wasn't time yet," she murmured.
Night had long since settled over the estate.
G6 sat sideways on the broad window frame of her chambers, her arms crossed beneath her chest as she stared coldly at the night sky.
The past few days had been exhausting.
At least the hours spent on the hill had given her something else to concentrate on. Learning new techniques, sparring with her relatives, and nearly excavating a portion of the estate had been a surprisingly effective distraction.
Those troublesome idiots.
A faint smirk touched her lips.
Unfortunately, the relief hadn't lasted.
Now that she was alone, those familiar questions were creeping back into her thoughts.
The little forest near the training hall.
The terrible ringing in her ears.
And waking in her own bed at 6:46 A.M., unable to account for what had happened between.
G6's expression darkened.
What the fuck happened to me that morning?
Even now, she couldn't remember how she had returned to her room.
And then there was Duchess Reyna, who kept bringing up the Messenger of the Heavens as though she knew something.
This world really likes speaking in riddles.
"It's almost as if coming here was supposed to tell me something..."
Her gaze drifted toward the distant gardens.
"Something I'm apparently not allowed to know yet."
A pause.
"But why?"
She tapped one finger against her arm.
Then something occurred to her.
"Status Window."
A translucent blue hologram appeared before her, casting its faint glow across her face.
G6 scrolled through the familiar classifications until she reached her Super Extra Skills.
Her finger stopped.
S — COGNITIVE NULLIFICATION
Exceptional resistance to recognized forms of mental intrusion, hypnosis, psychic interference, and magical manipulation of conscious perception.
She stared at the description.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then—
"Pft."
Her shoulders shook.
"HAHAHAHAHAHA!"
She threw her head back, laughing so hard that her voice echoed through the otherwise silent chamber.
"Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me."
She looked at the hologram again, an incredulous grin spreading across her face.
"Exceptional resistance, huh?"
Her finger tapped the glowing letters.
"So what? I guess that doesn't mean shit when you're dealing with cosmic beings?"
She laughed again.
Of course, that was assuming someone had actually interfered with her mind.
She had no proof.
And if something had happened beyond the skill's protection, she certainly had no way of knowing how.
What a fucking joke.
Her laughter gradually subsided.
G6 dismissed the window, leaving only the pale moonlight illuminating her face.
"Whatever."
She leaned back against the frame.
"If someone's fucking with my head, they'd better have a damn good reason."
Her grey eyes settled on the night sky.
"Because I'm really reaching my limit with this game."
「THE FOLLOWING NIGHT — VENERATION」
The candle burned steadily beneath the Messenger's statue.
G6 withdrew her hand.
That's it?
She almost scoffed.
After all the preparations and her mother's inexplicable distress, she had expected something more interesting.
What a fucking waste of time.
Then something stirred beneath her feet.
Black smoke.
It crept across the marble, curling around her ankles before spreading toward the statue.
G6's eyes narrowed.
What the—?
Behind her, the prayers continued.
She turned, but the familiar voices were growing distant.
The smoke thickened.
And somewhere within it, a figure appeared.
A man sat upon an exquisitely crafted chair, dressed in clothing so expensive that even the Worthon nobles might have looked twice.
His face remained concealed beneath the unnatural darkness.
Yet there was something almost leisurely about his posture.
As though he had been sitting there for quite some time.
Waiting.
G6's expression turned cold.
Who the fuck are you?
The man did not move.
Then, from somewhere within the darkness, came a voice.
Calm.
Familiar with her in a way it had no right to be.
"At last, we meet, Akira Gemstone."
Then, beneath the darkness concealing his face, his barely visible lips curved into a faint, eerie smile.
"Or should I say… G6, the Reaper?"
— To Be Continued… —