67 - Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

Chapter 67: Why Did I Provoke Him? For many nobles, including Darlion, possessing everything was a birthright from the moment they arrived in this world. A privileged family background, an excellent education, the power to treat common folk like mere animals, and friendships with peers of equal status... Without a doubt, it was a magnificent existence. So magnificent that even minor flaws could be reluctantly overlooked. Yet, even with such enviable possessions from birth, their lives were never truly free. Because there were rules to follow. Not the laws of the Saint Roland Empire, but an intangible set of rules amongst the nobility. For instance, always leaving room for reconciliation. At least outwardly. Even after the Mosgra family inflicted such cruelty upon the Bartleon family, they still chose to spare Lin En's life, merely exiling him to the frontier. As for the subsequent assassinations, they were in fact secretly orchestrated by a faction within the family. Growing up witnessing this, Darlion gradually ingrained these noble codes deeply into his bones. And he had adhered to them. Until... today. The moment the gunshot echoed, Darlion felt as if his chest had been struck by a massive blow, staggering him backwards. Then came an excruciating and searing pain beyond compare. His eyes filled with disbelief. He... dared to shoot? He dared to shoot?! He dared to commit such brazen murder and gun down a Mosgra family heir in broad daylight?! It wasn't until he collapsed to the ground with weakened limbs that Darlion grasped the staggering weight of reality over illusion; until he saw Lin En's calm gaze through his crow mask did he realize— I'm... about to die. A likely heir to the Mosgra title, dead before indulging in life's pleasures, killed in such a ludicrous way at some backwater banquet. Without the adoration of onlookers, without petals raining around him. All because he flung a few taunts at a lunatic. As Darlion's consciousness faded, no hatred remained upon his chest. Only regret. Damn it. I knew he was a lunatic, why provoke him? Why provoke him? Darlion's vision darkened, his head flopping to the side. In his final moments, his eyes found the still-warm corpse of his butler Sherlock not far away. The man he had considered beneath him. In that madman's eyes... it turns out we were no different. ... "Bastard!" With the gunshot, Marquis Tirus' furious bellow reverberated across the hall, "What do you plan to do?!" With his roar, the surrounding space seemed to warp in disarray. Everyone was frozen in shock by the abrupt scene. No one expected the young man before them to act with such audacity. Killing a butler wasn't enough; he even dared to publicly attempt murdering a Mosgra family heir! Feeling the marquis' wrath, Lin En looked down. The revolver once gripped in his hand had somehow turned into a leaden lump, crashing to the floor. This was the power of gravity manipulation, executed so precisely it didn't harm his hand at all. Unfortunately. Since Lin En had drawn first in zero frames, not even Marquis Tirus had reacted in time. After all, Lin En had already killed a butler. Who could anticipate he wouldn't be satisfied, going on to publicly shoot down a Mosgra heir? In a breath's time, Marquis Tirus was swept up in unparalleled fury. Any prior favor or appreciation for Lin En vanished, replaced with the desire to utterly dismantle him. Darlion didn't necessarily have to live. He could meet a grisly end much later, by a stray dog gnawing him in a ditch. That wasn't the issue. But dying at his banquet was. No matter the marquis' true stance, as the host of the event his reputation was already entangled. Not for fear of any newly emerging noble clan in recent years. Merely because there was no need to gratuitously make an enemy. Especially considering the Mosgra family was tied closely with the Church and had extraordinary ties to the second prince—something that gave him a headache. Moreover, his purpose here was to collect taxes. He hadn't had the chance to hear Mosgra's offer of goodwill before allowing their envoy to die so easily. Even if the marquis personally opposed it, such an occurrence would be seen as a declaration of hostilities. Instantly, a formidable extraordinary force rose from his being, the violent energy pulverizing the marble floor beneath! Marquis Tirus' eyes were like saucers as he prepared to suppress the perpetrator then and there. On the brink of action, Lin En suddenly spoke loudly, "Marquis, I realize you're furious... but regardless, the man is dead!" His words carried subtle implications. It seemed to have some effect, causing the marquis' gaze to hesitate, his movements pausing slightly. Yet ultimately, fury won over reason. An invisible storm of gravity descended from above, rushing toward Lin En's position! Ah. Why so headstrong? Despite the dire situation, Lin En remained unfazed, only letting out a slight sigh. As if waiting for something. The next moment came the crisp sound of footsteps, and a striking figure in a red dress abruptly stepped in front of him. "Uncle Tirus, this will be the last time I call you that," Yvette stated icily, her flowing black hair gently lifted, encased in a red force field. "Consider carefully whether you truly want to act against my subordinate." Her voice was devoid of emotion, yet her aura was so powerful it seemed to threaten Marquis Tirus with decapitation should he step any closer. What majesty the princess commands! Admiring the stunning figure shielding him, Lin En mentally gave a thumbs-up. The tension hung in the air. But to keen observers it was clear: during the brief clash of extraordinary forces, the seemingly robust and overpowering Marquis Tirus had actually come off worse, his face a shade paler. Meanwhile, the tall woman in the red dress remained unmoving, her presence mysterious and authoritative. "......" A glint of surprise flickered in Marquis Tirus' eyes as he stared intently at Yvette. Has she grown this much stronger? Sensing a subtle hint of danger, Marquis Tirus sniffed. "You'd engage me over a mere subordinate?" "You may try." Yvette quietly responded. "I'm surprised, Your Highness. So protective of your underlings?" Though slightly constricted, Marquis Tirus retorted coldly, "But is this regard reserved only for—" "Silence." Yvette instinctively cut him off. "......" While Yvette's words were somewhat disrespectful, Marquis Tirus did not seem to mind. That young man though, to so effortlessly provoke the marquis’ years of practiced calm—truly a talent. Turning to the boy in the crow mask, Marquis Tirus gradually let go of his fury. Not in forgiveness of Lin En, but because the boy was right. What had happened had happened. The man was dead. To be more productive than dwelling on anger over an irreversible mistake was to think of ways for recovery. In silence, Marquis Tirus finally raised a hand, dispelling the surrounding extraordinary force. Then he surveyed the now-cracked floor from their skirmish, and at the guests who had retreated afar. "I apologize for the unexpected events of tonight." The marquis coughed lightly, "The banquet is over. Please, have a safe journey home." Granted permission by the host, the nobles departed as if granted amnesty, expressing their gratitude as they left the hall. Clearly, everything that transpired tonight was far more thrilling than anything they'd encountered in their lifetimes. It wouldn't be long before news spread throughout Orne City. Seeing the guests disperse, Marquis Tirus issued another command to his subordinates: "You, take care of his body's proper arrangements." "Yes, sir!" The guards carried away Darlion's corpse. Having dealt with that, Marquis Tirus slowly closed his eyes. Simultaneously, he began to contemplate the events of the evening. The first half of the night went smoothly, allowing him to declare his stance and exert pressure on the local nobility and the Church. But things took a drastic turn later on, primarily due to Mozer's manipulations and diversions. The real mastermind, however, was this seemingly insane yet actually cunning young man. It was only now that he vaguely grasped Lin En's intentions. If guessed correctly, this guy had never been provoked by Darlion's clumsy methods. This wasn't a matter of impulse—it was all carefully planned. "The reckless brat... never mind, come to the study and let's talk," he remarked with a cold smirk, then turned to Yvette not far away, "How about you, Your Highness? Cooled down yet? If so, care to join us for a discussion?"