Chapter 98: Chapter 98

In an instant, the burst of light engulfed Tetanio and his puppets.

It had no effect on him since he wasn’t a necromancer, but for his undead, it was devastating—far beyond the usual potency.

The black mana flickering across their bodies disintegrated, and one by one, the puppets collapsed.

They fell like marionettes with their strings cut.

This time, the incantation had taken a while, but the satisfaction was well worth it.

I turned my gaze toward Tetanio, whose mouth hung open in stunned disbelief.

“Why do you sound like someone who didn’t know undead are weak to divine power?”

His reaction was almost pathetic.

He was supposed to be the one pulling Julian’s strings, yet here he was—no better than the mess Julian Minerva had been in.

Was Nigellia, the next Elder, going to be this easy as well?

Tetanio wasn’t even on Ares’s level—he was just a step above Qudil at best.

The Fourth Elder was supposed to be a high-ranking position. Now that I thought about it, I was actually curious—

“I know it’s rude to ask, but... how did you even become the Fourth Elder?”

“No! This can’t be happening! I poured so much Beatitudo into myself—there’s no way this is real!”

“Oh. So you’re not going to tell me.”

“D-Damn it! Damn it all!”

Not only was he unwilling to answer, but he also had no intention of going down quietly.

Tetanio spun around and ran.

But maybe his "frail body" wasn’t a complete exaggeration—his speed was pathetically average.

Cruello casually threw an ice spear, and it impaled Tetanio’s shadow.

The moment it landed, frost began creeping up his body from his feet.

Ankle, shin, knee, thigh—

Tetanio struggled, clawing at the encroaching ice, but his mana-less hands could do nothing to stop it.

Only when it reached his waist did he desperately start pleading.

“P-Please, spare me! Have some heart, Cruello—I’m your uncle, your own blood!”

If there was a ranking for the most pathetic Elders, the Grand Elder would surely be at the top, but Tetanio had just secured second place.

I actually yawned at how anticlimactic this was.

But his plea stirred the remaining undead.

A few twitched, weakly rising to their feet.

The ones at the back, who had been less affected by Brilliance.

They lurched toward Cruello, intending to attack.

But they could barely stand, let alone fight.

Even Cruello grimaced at the pitiful sight.

Deciding to end the annoyance altogether, he summoned a new ice spear.

A massive, intricately carved lance of frost, moving to deliver peace to the already dead.

But just as he was about to release it, Tetanio suddenly shouted.

Even knowing it was nonsense, I instinctively looked.

The smallest of the undead stood at the front of the line, just before the spear’s tip.

Well... "small" in the sense that it was short for an adult.

Did he really think I’d fall for this?

Even if it was Amy’s corpse, what difference did it make in this situation?

“Are you going to kill Amy again, Cruello?! That girl died for you!”

The spear pierced through the remaining undead without hesitation.

The mask of the one Tetanio claimed to be Amy fell off, rolling toward Cruello’s feet.

The revealed face belonged to a wrinkled, elderly man.

As expected, not Amy Royalsand.

Cruello crushed the fallen mask beneath his boot.

His voice, colder than I had ever heard it before, cut through the air.

The temperature plummeted even further.

Tetanio was now frozen up to his chest.

With each step Cruello took, everything around him froze solid in his wake.

“...Do you still see me as a child to be toyed with?”

“I’ve seen Amy’s face more times than I can count. You think I’d mistake something ?”

Standing directly before his uncle, Cruello drew his sword.

“Or are you saying that uttering her name is just your way of begging for death?”

The blade hovered just over Tetanio’s throat.

He couldn’t even swallow—his Adam’s apple barely trembled.

He didn’t want to die painlessly.

The ice, still creeping forward, began to grasp Tetanio’s neck.

His face turned ashen, his voice trembling—not from cold, but from fear.

“I-I was mistaken. But Amy’s body really is in my possession! If you kill me—”

Tetanio was instantly frozen solid.

I sucked in a sharp breath.

I had thought Cruello was just threatening him, but... he really did it.

...What about the key?

He wasn’t dead yet, so we could just thaw him out, but...

Just then, Cruello raised his blade.

The memory of the puppet theater flashed in my mind.

He was about to shatter Tetanio into pieces.

Without thinking, I grabbed his arm and yelled.

I had no right to say anything, especially since the topic was Amy. But this wasn’t the way!

Cruello stared at me, silent.

His eyes were still boiling with murderous intent.

If Gavotte were here, he’d say, his eyes have completely snapped.

Without thinking, I reached up and covered Cruello’s eyes with both hands.

I was the same person who had calmed him down when he mistook me for Viga and tried to kill me.

...Though, now that I thought about it, that was really unfair.

Why had he even tried to kill Viga in the first place?

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Even if Viga had begged me to kill her in that illusion, who in their right mind would actually go through with it?

Back then, I practically worked myself to death maintaining that enormous mansion all on my own.

There should be a limit to repaying kindness with betrayal.

I felt a lump in my throat, but it wasn’t the time or place to get angry, so I swallowed it down.

"Let’s just let this slide once—just once! First, it was ‘Find the Hidden Elder,’ and now it’s ‘Find the Hidden Key’? Dragging things out with the same routine isn’t fun. Just take a deep breath three times, and you’ll be fine. Follow me—huff! Haah! Huff...."

The delivery was flawless.

Except, I wasn’t sure whether I was saying it to Cruello or to myself.

“...Are you treating me like a fool or a dog?”

“I’ll leave room for interpretation.”

Cruello let out a breath of disbelief and brushed my hand away.

He seemed to have calmed down.

But I wasn’t about to let him go so easily. I leaned in, scanning his eyes closely.

He hesitated, stepping back in surprise, but I followed right after, scrutinizing him.

“...What... are you doing?”

Passed! He wasn’t in a blind rage or looking like he was about to kill someone.

I let go of his arm, and Cruello, perhaps influenced by my words, rubbed the corner of his eye.

He looked like he wanted to say something but ended up sighing instead.

At that moment—thud, roll.

The °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° soft sound made me turn my head.

The spot where Tetannio had been frozen.

First, I noticed a small blue marble rolling across the floor.

And right beside it—a straw doll.

I tilted my head back, covering my eyes with a hand.

“I really, really hate dummies.”

Again! And it hadn’t even been a full day since I repaid the favor!

Why the hell was a dummy so desperate to survive? I was actually mad at an inanimate object.

"Is there no magic to detect dummies?"

"Ordinary dummies are easy to spot just by looking at them. But... my uncle’s craftsmanship is more intricate than expected. Not that it’s an excuse."

“He’s just full of useless tricks!”

“But no matter. It won’t be a problem.”

He bent down and picked up the communicator.

It had fallen alongside the straw doll.

"It was connected just moments ago. The signal came from inside the mansion."

I’d send this straight to the veterans—minus the key.

Let’s see if they had honed their torture techniques properly in hell.

A man dashed through the underground passage, surrounded by countless undead.

The thick dust, stirred up from disuse, made his throat tight.

His irritation flared, but there was nothing he could do in this situation.

Tetannio White Desert.

Born frail, he grew up relying on his wits.

His older brother, Dominion, played a significant role in shaping him that way.

Dominion was ruthless and distrustful, always wary that Tetannio might covet the heir’s position.

Because of that, Tetannio never learned mana and kept his magical talents hidden.

He stayed low in the shadows, swallowing his rage and inferiority to survive.

His circumstances changed when Dominion’s child was born.

Dominion perished, sacrificed for his own offspring’s fortune, and Tetannio gained his freedom.

Late in life, he discovered his talent, studied magic circles, and even delved into necromancy.

But he never outgrew the habits of a lifetime spent lurking in the background.

So there was no way Tetannio would have walked into the drawing room to face Cruello and Siora empty-handed.

The dummy with the communicator—it had only been a test to gauge their strength.

‘None of my puppets worked at all.’

All his undead had been neutralized with a single spell.

If the power gap was that severe, even if he had acquired a perfect body of Nigellia and turned her into a puppet, it wouldn’t have made a difference.

It was natural for the undead to be vulnerable before a priest.

But even against a High Priest’s divine spells, they should have lasted at least a few attacks—yet they were wiped out in a single blow?

And the spell Siora Bonetti had used... he had never seen anything like it before.

‘That means she isn’t from the current temple.’

Did any of the ancient sects still have someone with that level of divine power?

The more he thought about it, the worse the headache became—but he wasn’t in despair.

His identity had already been exposed, and there were limits to how long he could stay on the run.

From the moment his communicator was traced, Tetannio had reached a decision.

‘I have to suppress Cruello.’

And that unknown priestess—she had to die.

It might sound absurd.

Even Nigellia, who seemed indestructible, had fallen to them. How could he possibly fight them?

‘There was a reaction from Whistle.’