39 - The Bookworm’s Second Life

Title: The Reformation Life of an Avid Reader - Chapter 39 > Snow Rabbit - Web Novel Archive --- "Humming a tune, Lilith admired the villa belonging to the Count of Clawsen." "Though it wasn’t as grand as the main estate, it was evident that considerable care and attention had been invested in its upkeep." "Even though the border count seldom visits the royal capital, there appeared to be an unmistakable assertion that their family would not be underestimated." “Not bad.” "Hmm… Since Sion is likely staying in the room reserved for the head of the family, should I take the adjacent room?” "Lilith." At the sound of a woman's voice calling her, Lilith turned her head slightly. There stood Lyscheeda, waiting patiently in a courteous posture. "Everything is ready. You can step out now." "Is that so? Hmm… Then, should I go and handle the task Sion assigned me?" Lilith pulled up her hood and proceeded to exit the villa, with softly attired Lyscheeda trailing after her. “What do you think?” "Pardon?” “I mean, the fact that the woman by your side isn't human but a demon, and a high-ranking one at that.” Sion had informed Lyscheeda about Lilith's true nature. He believed it was important for his personal guard to be aware of this aspect to avoid potential complications in the future. “…I’m not quite sure.” “Not quite sure?” “I am merely a servant, my lord. I believe it is not my place to concern myself with who is by your side. My sole duty is to follow your wishes.” "Hmm… You’re no fun." Watching Lyscheeda for a moment, Lilith broke into a playful smile and suddenly clung to her side. “You like him, don’t you?” “W-What?” “I’m talking about Sion. The way you gaze at him was so heartfelt that it almost moved me.” "What are you saying! I am merely serving my master! I cannot harbor such emotions!” “If you say so. Why get so flustered?” Realizing she’d been caught up in Lilith’s teasing, Lyscheeda blushed and hastened her steps, feigning composure. However, deceiving a succubus, particularly sensitive to such emotions, was nearly impossible. ‘Sigh. It’s natural for women to flock around a capable man. And here it starts already.’ Whether Lyscheeda was unaware or simply in denial, she was determined to maintain her nonchalant facade. Lilith scratched her cheek sheepishly, pondering, ‘Ugh! Why am I even troubled by this?’ and followed behind her. Ultimately, issues concerning women were for the men to worry about and lose sleep over. It was not something she could resolve by meddling. ‘Moreover, searching for those loitering around the palace walls, Sion? Isn’t this a bit much?’ Although it was her own decision to stay, Lilith wasn’t thrilled about being tasked with such assignments. In this royal capital alone, nearly a hundred thousand people resided. The palace, naturally situated within the capital, was strategically separated by walls from the citizens’ residential areas and royal family members’ living spaces. Yet, countless lived their lives revolving around the palace’s vicinity. In these circumstances, seeking out those lingering near the walls seemed akin to finding people in swimsuits on a beach. ‘What on earth is going on in this boy’s mind?’ From their first encounter, he had been peculiar, and she could never shake off that feeling. At times, he seemed like a naïve twenty-something, yet displayed worldly wisdom and acted as if he understood everything. What, indeed, was the true nature of Sion Clawsen? Lost in thought, Lilith shook her head. Regardless, she was bound to stick with him due to their contract. "Hey, Lysi! Wait up!" "It's Lyscheeda. Only my lord is permitted to call me ‘Lysi.’” "Come on, don't be like that. Allow me, and I’ll share some tales about Sion." “I’ll… think about it.” --- A long-awaited royal party. Nobles from across Hispania flocked to the capital, unwilling to miss such an occasion. It was more than just a gathering to exchange greetings and celebrate, with food and drinks. This was where numerous nobles discussed continental affairs, built factions, and where both their heirs and members of the royal family displayed their prowess. It was less a party, more a battlefield absent of swords and spears. “From the House of the Marquis of Guchen…!” “From the House of Isik…!” Each time a prominent noble entered the ballroom, the name of their house echoed throughout. The royal party involving all three major marquisates and five count houses of Hispania was just about to commence in its full splendor. "Introducing His Majesty, King Edgar Astarious of Hispania, rightful ruler and head of the royal family, and host of today’s celebration!" At the chamberlain's exclamation, every noble present fell silent. Following King Edgar IV, Prince Erador, and Princess Vanessa all made their entrance into the ballroom. “Hmm?” However, there was one more in their procession. King Edgar IV had only two children—Erador and Vanessa. Who then was the unfamiliar young man walking behind the royal family members? "It's been quite a while since we prepared such an occasion. As you know, our Hispania and Nudiah have, time and again, engaged in wars with each side suffering considerable losses, with fluctuating fortunes. But this time it was different; it ended as a decisive victory for Hispania! The Clawsen border territory played a pivotal role, serving as both spear and shield!” The nobles, already aware of the victory, applauded King Edgar IV's comment. The king paused the applause momentarily before continuing his address. "Today’s gathering is not only to honor those who remain loyal to the crown and uphold this nation, but also to celebrate a new hero of Hispania. Sion Clawsen, step forward!" At these words, the young man standing farther back stepped forward. This stirred a slight murmur among the assembled nobles; some admired his appearance, others questioned his past deeds with a skeptical eye, and some scrutinized the sudden transformation of Count Clawsen’s heir. "Though it is regrettable that Lichten Clawsen, the border count, is not present, your heroic contributions to the recent war are acknowledged not only by him but also by myself. Remember that you are the focal point of today’s party, enjoy it." "It is an honor, Your Majesty." "It is a joyous occasion. Enjoy it, but within the bounds of duty and etiquette." With these words, King Edgar IV took his designated seat, gesturing for music to begin and the party to commence. ‘…This is overwhelming.’ Sion, in turn, felt close to losing his mind from the chaos. While he anticipated the grandeur of a Hispania royal party, both from novels and from what others had informed him, the actual scale was surprising. The massive hall was teeming with more than a hundred nobles in a lively atmosphere. "Sion Clawsen." The first to approach was the Marquis Volko, whom Sion had encountered that morning. Though he had been more familiar at the residence of the Marquis of Redenen, here he maintained proper decorum. "First and foremost, congratulations to the Clawsen demesne on your victory." "Thank you once again, Marquis." As Sion expressed his gratitude, he discreetly surveyed his surroundings. Although none had approached yet, several individuals observed him with peculiar interest—especially the young noblemen and women. "Be cautious." The Marquis Volko slipped close to Sion, whispering quietly. "I’ve seen it many times, yet still I cannot get used to it. Those who know not the first thing about war will relentless critique the achievements of heroes in settings like these. Just hearing them is revolting enough to make one want to snap their necks." "Is that not a reality of politics? Such is the nature of it." "I'll never understand. Facing enemies in battle is preferable." The Marquis handed Sion a glass after taking two from a passing attendant, and they made a light toast before drinking. "Do your best today. It’s best to be wary, especially with the Lichten count absent." Marquis Volko’s words were a thinly veiled plea for Sion to avoid any mishaps, unlike a previous occasion of notoriety. Unaware of this implication, Sion nodded, interpreting it simply as a piece of advice. No sooner had Marquis Volko left, than a swarm of nobles eagerly capitalized on the opportunity to engage with Sion. "Sion, have you been well?" "I assume so—" "Hahaha! Merrill, long time no see. How have you been?" "I’ve been well, but could you step aside? I have important matters to discuss with Lord Sion." "Oh dear, my apologies. But it seems Lord Sion has no interest in speaking with you. What do you think?" As expected, the competition among the noblewomen attracted by his looks was fierce, resembling a group of stray cats vying for a tantalizing morsel of food. Sion, anticipating a storm of bickering, desired nothing more than to vacate the premises. "Sion Clawsen." He was addressed without the honorific "lord," suggesting the speaker considered themselves Sion's equal or superior in social standing. Intrigued, Sion turned to identify the source. "Long time no see." Indeed, it had been a while—or so he thought, unsure of the speaker's identity. He awaited further information, confident the ladies surrounding him would reveal the man's identity. "Prince Verekric!" "Would you all kindly step aside? I have matters to discuss with him." Ah, Verekric, the second son of the Marquis of Guchen. Normally, his older brother would assume public duties, but due to mental health issues since childhood, the family curtailed his appearance. Consequently, Verekric was now the prominent heir candidate. The Guchen marquisate ascended to the Three Marquis Families through commercial wealth and diplomacy, distinct from the Redenen marquis and the Clawsen demesne. According to the novel, they held disdain for those who wielded swords and spears. To Sion, they were not favorable company. The Clawsen demesne, known as Hispania's shield, represented military strength—a source of national pride for some, but a competitive threat for others. It was clear to Sion that he and Verekric would inevitably clash in political and other arenas. "Prince Verekric." "Is this our first encounter since the last royal party?" "Perhaps… probably." ‘Perhaps’ was an understatement—it was all new to him. Such details weren’t covered in the novels, as Verekric’s character appeared briefly to show off at the party, only to be embarrassed by Gim Yoo-hyeon, the protagonist. After a minor mention mid-novel, Verekric later met his demise. ‘So essentially, an extra of little significance.’ If the Guchen marquis had been an ally, Sion might have taken an interest. However, their relationship with the Clawsen demesne was anything but amiable. Upon reaching this conclusion, Sion swiftly composed his thoughts. "They say you’ve made your mark in the war against Nudia." "Indeed." "In the past, considering your behavior, such claims might appear suspicious… but with the king vouching for you, I find no grounds for further doubt." Why did those words sound so much like, ‘I don’t trust a word you say, but since the king has spoken, I suppose I have to’. Sion internally cursed, waiting for what would come next from Verekric. "If given the chance, I would love to hear your tales of heroism at this gathering." "Tales of heroism?" "I mean your firsthand account of the war. I'd like to hear it from you." It was a transparent ploy. Were they trying to coax him into speaking to find any slip-up? Or trying to dig up something they could latch onto by forcing him to speak? Starting with such tricks was typical of politicking nobles, indeed. If he refused, they’d likely prod him with insinuations like, ‘Why so hesitant? As if you weren’t part of the war,’ and if they found any gaps or unusual points in his recounting, they’d eagerly seize the opportunity: ‘Wait a moment, something about that doesn't add up.’ 'No wonder he got humiliated by Gim Yoo-hyeon in the novel.' During such exchanges, Gim Yoo-hyeon had smirked at Verekric’s obnoxious words before tripping him invisibly, sending him sprawling. Verekric, embarrassed with a flushed face, attempted to vent his anger, only to be further disgrace by Yoo-hyeon mumbling about him taking his fall out on others. “What are you two up to?” A familiar person to Sion interrupted—Ludwig Redenen. With an expressionless face, he scrutinized Sion and Verekric alternately. He was the future knight, contemplating which of the two annoyed him more. "Just a brief conversation, Ludwig. I have never experienced war myself. I wanted to hear about it directly from Sion Clawsen, who has not only been through it but led us to victory." The guy seemed to emphasize certain words excessively. It clearly anticipated a provocation, but Sion held his tongue. He wasn’t foolish enough to fall for such shallow tricks, and even if he did trip up, he had no intention of giving his opponent any leeway. “You all are gathered here, it seems. Wanting to get acquainted with the man of the hour, I presume?” A young lady, whose appearance was still quite youthful, approached the three men. Identifying her by looks alone was impossible for Sion, but his mind worked quickly. ‘With Verekric and Ludwig from marquis families, the only one who can confidently step in among them is an equal, likely from another marquis family.’ His thoughts were swift, his actions swifter. By addressing her as ‘Lady Estia’ and giving a slight nod, Estia from the Marquis of Onere responded with a gentle smile, glanced around, and spoke. “I, too, am curious.” “Pardon?” “I’m curious about Lord Sion’s stories. How about it? Do you have any splendid tales from the war to share with us?" Is talking about the war their only source of entertainment? Why were they so eager? If not for mere conversation, then it must be to find a weakness, anything to exploit. Was it necessary to go this far? While grumbling inside, Sion outwardly showed no signs of dissatisfaction. After all, he had already planned to speak regardless. The 'play' he had been organizing with King Edgar IV was set to unfold.