Salvation Through Delusion C46

Chapter 46

“Only with words?”

— Koon Tyroc

It took less than a second to read, but several times longer to process.

What the hell was that supposed to mean? When had I ever done anything “only with words”…?

Then it hit me—what I’d written in my last letter.

“Thank you for your kind regards.”

So this was his reply.

“…That bastard’s toying with me.”

Crackle.

I crushed the letter in my fist, my irritation boiling over. Who was the one who rejected all my gifts, claiming no thanks were necessary in the first place?

Fuming, I slammed my hand on the desk, yanked out fresh paper, and grabbed a pen. Solongo followed, wearing a puzzled look.

“The Grand Duke wouldn’t use a teleportation portal for a joke… What are you doing?”

“Writing a reply. And it’s not a joke—he sent that letter just to piss me off.”

“To annoy you? Using a teleportation portal? Wait—are you really sending that?”

I had already scribbled down a line and was about to fold the paper when I hesitated.

“What? It’s not that rude, is it? He’ll get annoyed, sure, but it’s not offensive.”

“This—this is what you wrote to annoy him?”

“Yeah.”

“…I see.”

Solongo stepped back, watching me like I’d lost my mind. I glanced down at what I’d written again. Was it too much?

“Yes, I’ll be expressing my gratitude only with words. You were the one who refused my gift, after all. So, the only way you’ll receive my thanks is directly from my lips. Do you have a problem with that?”

Hmm. Maybe I should remove that last line—‘Do you have a problem with that?’—since he was technically my savior.

As I debated, I could feel Solongo’s disapproving gaze burning into me.

“Are you sending it now?”

“Of course. If I send it by courier, it’ll take days. I’ll just call someone and—”

Before I could even finish, Solongo snatched the letter from my hand, slipped it into an envelope, sealed it, and shouted toward the hall:

“Gather all the magicians! Prepare the teleportation portal immediately!”

“What? You’re sending it through teleportation?”

“Of course. I’ll make sure the Grand Duke gets to misunderstand you as quickly as possible.”

“What misunderstanding?”

“Any kind. Take your pick.”

“…What?”

But Solongo only smiled, far too cheerfully, and began barking orders. Magicians were herded into the room like sheep, working furiously to stabilize the portal.

After long minutes of muttering and chanting, three high-ranked magicians finally succeeded. My letter vanished into thin air, and they turned to me, beaming with pride.

“We’re relieved to see such an important message safely delivered!”

Beads of sweat glistened on their foreheads.

“….”

I couldn’t even respond—guilt hit me like a hammer.

And just like that, the little pocket money I had left was gone—spent as their reward.

Knock, knock.

Rick burst into Tyroc’s office, nearly tripping over himself as he rushed forward.

“Your Grace, a letter has arrived!”

He didn’t say more, but his urgency spoke for him. Even before Tyroc looked up, Rick was already holding out two envelopes—one white, one brown.

He deliberately placed the brown one on top so that Tyroc could grab it first. It was always from a trusted friend who sent crucial information.

But since Tyroc didn’t look up from his documents, Rick subtly pushed the envelopes closer into his view.

Finally, Tyroc glanced over. Rick, unable to wait, placed the brown envelope directly on the desk.

“Please, take a look, Your Grace. The messenger said it’s good news.”

Yet, Tyroc’s gaze didn’t go to the brown envelope at all.

“Adeye?”

“Ah, yes—this white one is from Adeye Rue. It just arrived via teleportation portal. I suppose since we sent ours that way, they wanted to show they could do it too. Haas actually laughed about it, saying the Adeyes probably squeezed three high-ranking magicians dry just to pull it off. Wait—are you opening that one first?”

Before Rick could finish, Tyroc had already taken the white envelope, slicing it open with his letter knife. He unfolded the paper.

Silence.

What could possibly be written in there?

Rick fidgeted, baffled, as Tyroc continued to stare at the letter—motionless, expression unreadable. The silence dragged on until Rick, unable to restrain his curiosity any longer, asked cautiously,

“Is it… something terrible? An insult?”

“…That would’ve been easier.”

What? Easier?

Rick’s imagination went wild. What could be so awful that insults would be preferable? Tyroc pressed a hand to his forehead, lowering his head briefly—as though to collect himself.

That bad?! Rick’s eyes widened.

“What on earth does it say? Did he… insult Your Grace?”

“Something like that.”

“What?! To mock the man who saved his life—he should be kissing your boots!”

To humiliate him in a letter, of all things! Rick was practically shaking with outrage.

Yet Tyroc, instead of tearing the letter apart, folded it neatly and placed it in the drawer. Then—unbelievably—he smiled.

He smiled.

Granted, Tyroc was the type to smile even when angry, but this one… this looked almost pleased.

That couldn’t be right.

While Rick was silently puzzling over it, Tyroc pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and began writing a reply.

“Tell Haas to open the portal immediately.”

Again? Rick blinked. Was the matter really that urgent?

He accepted the sealed reply obediently, hoping Tyroc would now open the other letter—the important one.

But instead, Tyroc simply turned back to his documents, utterly indifferent.

Even after a long pause, he made no move toward the brown envelope. Rick hesitated before clearing his throat.

“Your Grace.”

Tyroc looked up lazily. Rick forced a polite smile.

“Ahem… are there any other orders?”

“Yes.”

“Of course, please—what is it?”

“Leave.”

When a man known for his easy smiles suddenly went expressionless, the change was chilling. Tyroc looked exactly that way now.

Rick stiffened, bowed quickly, and stammered, “My apologies. I’ll deliver the reply to Adeye immediately.”

Still, even as he left, he couldn’t stop glancing back at the brown envelope.

Thud.

Once the door closed, Tyroc finally turned his attention to it.

It was from the same source that always brought unexpected intelligence—and since it was labeled “good news,” it was likely valuable.

Normally, he would’ve been eager to read it. But right now, he couldn’t muster the faintest curiosity.

His mind was entirely occupied by that short, utterly infuriating letter in the drawer.

Only through words, huh?

He could easily imagine Rue, fuming as he wrote it—clearly not realizing how that line could be taken another way.

Tyroc, however, could think of only one kind of “mouth usage.”

“Haa…”

Running a hand through his hair, he exhaled heavily.

If he didn’t calm down, he was going to need to take care of the problem physically—and by that, he meant with the rapidly hardening problem between his legs.

No matter what he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about Rue’s lips.

Those lips he’d tasted once before—back in the summer villa’s hedge maze—still felt vivid on his tongue, as if it had happened mere moments ago.

That stubborn mouth that had refused him for so long, only to yield in the end—soft, sweet, devastatingly addictive.

And the owner of that mouth was none other than Adeye Rue.

“Damn it.”

Tyroc cursed quietly under his breath and tore open the brown envelope at last.

As usual, it was filled with densely written pages. The letter began as it always did—with warm words of concern, updates about trivial matters. But near the end came the real content.

His eyes scanned the page swiftly.

“…Others believe you long for the Koon family’s revival, but I know better.

What you truly desire is to break the curse on the Koon ancestral fortress, isn’t that right?

The curse is so powerful that you’ve forbidden anyone from setting foot inside.

I know how tirelessly you’ve tried to undo it.

I always hoped that someday, you’d ask for my help.

If I had more time, I would’ve waited until your heart turned toward me… but there’s not much time left.

Something terrible is coming to Tuvine.”

Something terrible? There were no details.

“I can’t explain in writing. Meet with me, and I’ll tell you everything.

Let me help lift the Koon curse. The documents I’ve obtained may hold the answer you’ve been seeking.”

A solution to the curse.

It was good news, objectively. Yet the words barely registered in his mind. They felt distant, unreal.

He was still thinking like an idiot about someone’s damn lips.

“Pathetic,” he muttered, forcing his gaze toward the window.

Though it was broad daylight, the Koon fortress was shrouded in white mist—its outline barely visible. Only the sharp peak of the tallest spire cut through the haze, a reminder that the massive castle still stood there, waiting.

After a pause, Tyroc pulled a new sheet of paper toward him and wrote a short reply.

Yes. The curse came first. That was what he wanted most of all.