LPSB 16

chapter 16

The Tower Elders narrowly surpassed Schuen by a slim margin. As soon as the World Cup voting results were revealed, the comment section erupted.

• This was the end-times World Cup. Who even thought of matching the Tower Elder against Schvaly in the finals?
  └ Battle of the strongest beings in the setting.
• I can’t believe Schvaly lost to the Tower Elder… I’ve lost my faith in humanity.
• LOL, but is it real that Izelle is dead last in rankings even though he’s basically a main villain?
  └ And he’s ranked lower than the protagonist ;;
  └ Why is the protagonist even in a villain World Cup in the first place?
  └ The protagonist stands guilty of killing Izelle.

For reference, I also voted for the Tower Elders as first place back then. It was because they were the ones who planted the seeds of misfortune for Izelle.

Shortly before his disappearance, the Tower Master had intended to open the Tower and form friendly agreements with nations across the continent.

But the Tower Elders opposed it, insisting that the Tower’s immense power must be preserved.

When the Tower Master refused to change his stance, the Elders ultimately devised a plan. They launched a coordinated attack while the Tower Master was away on a short trip with his son.

Because of that incident, Izelle lost his father and became a wandering orphan with nowhere to go.

But that wasn’t the end.

One day, while living on believing his father was dead, Izelle discovered a clue that his father might still be alive.

After a long and grueling journey, the moment he finally reunited with him—

Izelle’s father was murdered right before his eyes by the Tower Elders. Having lost his father once again, Izelle was consumed by despair.

He couldn’t even shed tears. He silently wailed while clutching his father’s cold body.

It was Special Side Story Episode 23. I had even bookmarked it.

No matter how many times I read it, I always cried at how pitiful Izelle was. The comments section was overflowing with readers crying on his behalf.

• Izzzeeeelllㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ our Izelleㅠㅠㅠ
• (crying rabbit emoticon)
• What did Izelle even do wrongㅠㅠㅠ why are you doing this to our baby angelㅠㅠ
  └ What kind of “baby angel” kills people?
  └ Shut up. Read the room.
• If I were Izelle, I would’ve burned the entire continent already.
  └ He kind of already did though.
  └ I told you to shut up.

The incident that triggered Izelle’s full descent into darkness was his father’s death.

He abandoned all human pride and hope, crossing the final line he should never cross. Swearing vengeance, Izelle began killing any mage from the Tower.

He became increasingly stained with blood and madness, falling irreversibly into ruin. Watching my favorite character spiral like that was heartbreaking.

It had already been over a week since I entered Schuen Felicita’s body.

The longer I spent with Izelle, the more certain I became.

“I don’t want to see Izelle turn dark.”

The system that gave me warnings and quests clearly seemed to be aiming for that too.

“I’ve already prevented the dragon contract.”

And I still had to stop the Tower Master’s death. But I was nothing more than a mere marquis’s daughter.

Me rolling up my sleeves and searching for the Tower Master would be madness. So I was considering asking Hiser for help.

While I was lost in thought, the noble ladies had already moved on to another topic. One of them, who had been talking about a newly opened dress shop, suddenly let out a small sound.

“Who is that…?”

She was looking over my shoulder.

I slowly turned my head, sensing a strangely uneasy feeling.

Not far from the garden where the tea tables were set. A boy with neatly combed ash-gray hair was walking across the corridor.

It was Izelle.

“Why is he here?”

He should have been in the middle of sword training with Hiser.

The training grounds were on the far left side of the estate. I had intentionally chosen the furthest garden from that area for the tea party.

I had even calculated the route he would take back to his room after training.

I had been absolutely certain we would never meet.

All my effort became meaningless in an instant.

“Marquis’s daughter. Who is that boy?”

A noble lady whispered to me, curiosity tinged with faint interest.

Izelle had changed a lot since he first arrived at the marquis’s estate.

Neatly trimmed hair, refined and luxurious clothes. Because he was wearing bright colors, his skin—white like fresh snow—stood out even more.

His ash-gray hair shimmered softly under the sunlight, giving him an almost mysterious aura.

At a glance, he didn’t look like a servant anymore, so it wasn’t strange that the ladies were curious.

As I hesitated to answer, one of them spoke first.

“Is that the commoner the marquis brought in?”

It was Lady Harrington who spoke loudly. She curled her lips into a faint smile.

Only then did I realize something was wrong.

Izelle, who had been walking through the corridor, stopped.

He was looking straight at us.

The words Lady Harrington had spoken—meant for everyone to hear—had clearly reached him.

His violet eyes fixed on me, cold and piercing.

A chill ran down my neck.

The curious noble ladies pressed further.

“The marquis brought him in?”

Lady Harrington explained confidently.

“Yes. I heard it from my father. He decided to become the guardian of a poor commoner boy with no parents or place to go.”

Her voice was loud enough for Izelle to hear every word.

I wanted to cover her mouth.

But she continued without hesitation.

She even instructed a nearby maid to call Izelle over.

The startled maid looked between me and Lady Harrington, but she had no authority to refuse a noble’s order.

I wanted to stop her, but I was afraid another warning might trigger the system again.

The maid hurried over and delivered the message.

Izelle’s expression turned cold in an instant.

He glanced at us briefly, then stepped forward.

Without hesitation, he crossed the archway and walked toward us.

Watching him approach across the grass, I felt my throat dry up.

He stopped in front of the tea table and slightly lowered his head in greeting.

Lady Harrington greeted him with a smile and added,

“His Excellency the Marquis is truly merciful. Taking in unfortunate commoners like this is admirable.”

It sounded like praise, but there was mockery underneath it.

It was a childish insult to both Izelle and the marquis house.

“Even if you can’t become a noble, it’s still a good opportunity, isn’t it?”

She was openly saying he would never escape the label of “commoner.”

I almost laughed in disbelief.

Then she turned to me.

“Am I right, my lady?”

Her eyes sparkled as she demanded an answer.

No matter how I responded, I would lose. The only way to avoid a warning was to step in and reject Izelle myself.

If I condemned him here, I could probably avoid punishment.

But—

I looked at Izelle.

For a moment, a faint, resigned smile appeared on his lips before disappearing.

His calm eyes were on me, as if waiting for whatever cruel words I would say.

Seeing his expression made something inside me boil.

‘Fine. Let’s say the false accusation and victim act are whatever.’

I could tolerate that much—she was young.

But I couldn’t stand Izelle being treated like this for something he didn’t do.

My rational mind telling me to avoid warnings disappeared completely.

‘Warnings? Who cares?! My favorite character is standing there like that!’

I stood up abruptly.

“Lady Harrington.”

“Yes?”

Her eyes lit up as if anticipating my response.

“You said to tell you directly if something bothered me, didn’t you?”

Seeing my cold expression, she flinched.

I picked up her teacup.

And threw it to the ground.

Crash!

The cup shattered, the sharp sound echoing clearly through the air.

The noble ladies and Lady Harrington froze like stone.

“Don’t ever speak about my brother like that again.”

I glared at her, abandoning every shred of noble etiquette.

Looking down at her pale face, I said clearly,

“Next time, it won’t be a teacup that breaks.”

A familiar chime rang out.

Ding!

<<WARNING! Inconsistent behavior detected.>>

<<Accumulated warnings: 3>>

The moment the warning appeared, I turned and ran.

I prayed my retreat looked like anger, not escape.

And then—

I fled.