When I Finished Playing the Terminally-Ill Villainous Omega C25

Chapter 25

Cassian, feigning concern for Mother’s safety, laid bare his true intentions.

“As it happens, the missing sword was crafted by that very blacksmith. If you would tell me why you summoned him, perhaps I might meet him first—if only to ask whether there is any way to recover the weapon. He is a lowborn man who handles blades. It could be dangerous, Mother.”

“Cassian, did you not hear me tell you to return to your room?”

It was a clear command to speak no further on the matter.

Cassian bit down on his lip and stepped back, unwilling but compelled. As he watched Mother leave the drawing room with Howard, anxiety etched across his face, his clenched fist trembled before he suddenly turned and glared at me.

And what will you do with that glare?

He looked as though he wished to vent his frustration over the vanished blacksmith upon me. I met his gaze without flinching, ready to accept whatever he might throw.

Through clenched teeth, Cassian said,

“I don’t know how much longer I can tolerate you.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean, Brother.”

I replied with feigned confusion. While I carried out my plans to become the head of the family, I intended—at least outwardly—to appear foolish. Cassian would eventually catch on, but if I could keep him uncertain, I might buy myself some time.

“If you’re behind all of this, I won’t let it go.”

“I ask again—what exactly do you mean? You speak of tolerance and conspiracies, yet offer no clarity. You mentioned the blacksmith earlier… Has something happened to the man who forged your swords? You said your blade was stolen—does that mean there was a thief in your chambers?”

“Yes. Continue pretending ignorance in front of me, just like that. It may prolong your life, if only a little.”

He rammed his shoulder into mine with enough force to nearly shatter it. Then—bang!—he slammed the door so violently it seemed it might fall from its hinges, and left the drawing room.

As the tension drained from me, my legs nearly gave way. When the knights moved to take Locke away again, I stepped in front of them.

“Leave.”

“…Pardon?”

“I said, leave.”

They exchanged uncertain glances, clearly unsure how to proceed. Irritation sharpened my voice.

“So you’ve all decided not to listen to me at all? I’ve lost count of how many knights have ignored me these past two days. Now that Mother has returned, perhaps I should ask her whether Hestian blood truly runs in my veins.”

The knights hesitated, then bowed reluctantly and withdrew. The moment the door closed behind them, I went straight to Locke.

“Did your legs cramp? That must’ve been hard. Come on, let’s return to my room.”

I reached for his arm to help him up—but a large hand brushed mine aside.

Locke rose on his own and looked down at me, his gaze pressing as though striking the crown of my head.

“I am a man.”

“…What?”

“If you dislike men so much, is there any reason to keep a male servant at your side? Just as you dismissed the knights, you may dismiss me as well and bring in a female attendant.”

I had no idea what had offended him this time. His moods were impossible to predict, which made him all the more difficult to handle. With no better option, I trailed after him, pouting, as he left the drawing room ahead of me.

“What was it this time? Hm? Because I didn’t tell you to stand sooner? Or because I didn’t explain the plan in advance and made you worry? What is it, exactly?”

I pressed him relentlessly, asking which part of what had happened displeased him. When he gave no answer, I even grabbed his arm and shook it, leaning in close with a persistent, “Hm? Hm?”

Only when we reached my door did Locke finally sigh and speak.

“There was nothing I disliked. You made an effort for my sake, and I was sufficiently satisfied.”

“Really? Then why do you look so dissatisfied?”

“Perhaps that’s simply how you wish to see me.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Nor is it true for me. Now go inside and rest.”

“I worked myself to the bone saving you, and that’s all you have to say?”

“Shall I offer you a kiss of gratitude?”

I flinched. The faint sting in my lips seemed to return at once.

As I stood there, blinking in speechless hesitation, he opened the door for me. Suddenly aware of it, his full, firm lips entered my field of vision, and I hastily darted inside and shut the door behind me.

“What kind of person says things like that without batting an eye?”

Leaning back against the door with a soft thud, I huffed in disbelief, then unconsciously bit my lower lip. For some reason, ever since he said it, my heart had been tingling—restless, almost ticklish.

❖ ❖ ❖

At a modest inn in a village not far from the estate, a carriage came to a halt. It was one of House Hestian’s two-wheeled carriages.

The innkeeper hurried out and led the woman who stepped down from it to the third floor. When Howard opened the door for her, an elderly man seated inside struggled to rise.

“I have been waiting.”

“You are Hagen?”

“Yes.”

“I have many questions to ask, but first—an apology. I am sorry you were nearly placed in danger.”

“Why apologize for something that did not come to pass?”

They sat across from each other at a small table.

The old man, Hagen, was a blacksmith who forged and repaired swords in the plaza. His skill was exceptional, and many nobles commissioned their weapons from him. Seventy percent of Cassian’s arsenal bore his craftsmanship.

“What I wish to ask is…”

The woman extended a fragment of a blade wrapped in cloth—the piece that had been enclosed in the letter her youngest son sent through Howard.

Silently examining it, the old man rose and brought over a long object that had been propped against the wall. Unwrapping it, he revealed a sword embedded with a red mana stone—its tip broken.

Comparing the fragment with the broken edge, she confirmed they matched and let out a low groan. Pressing her temple as if her head throbbed, she rose, as though there was no need to hear more.

“Thank you for agreeing to come despite the inconvenience. And I would prefer that this matter not leave this room.”

“The tongue of an old man with nothing left to cling to in life is as heavy as the years he has lived. Still, my lady, may I ask you one question?”

“Go on.”

“What lies within the Domain of Allure?”

At once, her expression tightened, as though she had been cut by a blade.

“Why do you ask?”

“Have you ever heard the name ‘Gallion’?”

“Of course. Was he not the one who forged blades for the imperial family? It was said his swords would never break…”

Her face turned cold.

Hagen Gallion.

Once an enchanter entangled in the assassination of a royal, he had sworn never again to involve himself with the imperial family and retired. It seemed the blacksmith had once been a maker of magical artifacts for the palace.

Why he now labored as a mere blacksmith in the plaza was unclear. Yet it was easy to understand his doubt—his blade, imbued with power to never break, had shattered.

Reluctantly, the woman sat again and spoke quietly to Howard.

“This may take some time. Ask the innkeeper to bring tea.”

When Howard left, she began.

“There are monsters within that domain—creatures my eldest son captured and released there. Aside from those, only the wild beasts that originally inhabited the land. As you know, my eldest enjoys hunting. He releases what he captures there and occasionally uses it for practice.”

“You have already discerned who I am. My blades cannot be marred by the attacks of creatures that men are capable of facing.”

“Then what do you believe this blade has pierced?”

For a common man to involve himself in the secrets of Allure was to risk his life. Yet he could not ignore what might concern the fate of the nation.

The blacksmith felt his throat grow dry. At that moment, Howard returned and set tea before them. He bowed lightly and exited. As the door closed, ripples formed upon the surface of the tea.

“Before I drink this, there is something I wish to say.”

The old man recognized at once that this was no ordinary tea. The woman flinched ever so slightly but composed herself.

“Speak.”

“I believe what Lord Cassian encountered… may well be the ruin of this country.”

“Ruin… such a fearful word. And why must you say this before drinking?”

“Perhaps because I sense that my fate ends here. ‘Those who approach the Domain of Allure shall repay their sin with their lives.’ Is that not the decree your house established? And the sudden offering of tea—surely that is its purpose.”

The woman sighed softly.

“You will not die. Only a few days of memory will be lost. I, too, act against the family’s principles—so do not resent me too greatly.”

“You are a kind woman, my lady. If the eldest son takes after the count, it seems the youngest takes after you. To think I met you instead of the count today… perhaps that is the last fortune granted to this old man. Ha.”

“I will take that as understanding.”

“You must summon a Great Sage and have it eliminated soon. Please… do not ignore the words of an old man.”

Having spoken those heavy words, the blacksmith drank the tea in a single draught. His body wavered—and then he collapsed.

The woman rose slowly and looked down at him with mournful eyes.

“I am sorry, but I may not be able to grant your request.”

The justification of protecting the family—could it truly absolve such cowardice? Staring at the empty teacup, she shut her eyes tightly in guilt. The faint lines at the corners of her eyes, etched by age, seemed to deepen in mere hours.

❖ ❖ ❖

Before the scheduled proceedings could even be completed, Father returned.

Cassian’s crimes had been brought to light. Now, it was time to decide his punishment.

Dressed in immaculate attire, I waited to be summoned.