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Chapter 18
“……”
Looking down, Celia slowly crouched as if to kneel. Seeing that, Fleer asked,
“Celia?”
“Ah. I think my shoelace came undone.”
“I’ll help you.”
“It’s fine—”
Before Celia could stop him, Fleer was already kneeling at her feet. The middle-aged man who had been talking with Fleer cleared his throat awkwardly. Celia clicked her tongue softly and whispered,
“Be careful.”
Something was coiled around her ankle.
“…It looks like a doll.”
“Don’t touch it. Step back slowly.”
“Are you in danger?”
“That remains to be seen. Can you draw their attention for a moment?”
Fleer hesitated, then nodded and rose. He began speaking casually again with the middle-aged man and the others, as if nothing had happened. The doll—cold, metallic, and eerily lifelike—slowly turned its head toward Celia.
It looked almost like a cursed doll used by sorcerers.
‘Did some bastard curse me?’
What have I even done to deserve a curse…?
Celia pressed down her rising irritation. She had just made enemies with the Phillips family, after all. She opened her hand, gauging how much mana it would take to destroy the thing.
“I don’t have the leisure to deal with curses right now.”
But just as she reached for it, the doll’s mouth clattered open as if trying to defend itself.
Clack, clack, clack.
Then it lifted one tiny arm and pointed somewhere. It seemed to be urging her to follow. Celia cautiously picked it up and hid it beneath her clothes before rising.
“Now that I see it, the hem of my skirt is torn as well. I’ll go fix it.”
Fleer looked at her with a stiff face and gave a small nod.
As soon as Celia left swiftly and silently, the middle-aged man clicked his tongue.
“Wasn’t that the famous sponsored girl?”
“Yes.”
“They say she’s the first magic swordsman in decades.”
Click, click. Tongue-clicks echoed. Fleer’s faint smile gradually faded.
“Seems she’s not much for proper manners. Tearing her dress as she walks, and leaving her sponsor behind—”
“……”
“I heard she’s a fallen noble. Clearly lacking education—”
“If you intend to insult my house, I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”
“Wh–what?”
Fleer’s calm, cold tone made the viscount flinch.
“I wasn’t talking about Diaman, I meant that sponsored girl—”
“How far do you think you can separate a sponsored person from their sponsor? Her mistake reflects on us as well.”
Realizing his blunder, the viscount’s lips trembled.
He had only meant to belittle a potential rival in the marriage arrangement, but now he was the one humiliated.
“My apologies.”
Fleer smiled faintly as he watched the man retreat awkwardly.
Then—
“You should show that kind of attitude in front of her!”
Royhan, who had somehow caught up, scolded him with a face full of frustration. Nearby, Carla and her companions—who had been shopping in another boutique—stood watching as well. Royhan clutched his chest in exasperation.
“If you care about her, you have to show it in front of her!”
“I don’t think that really matters.”
“It does! If you like someone, you have to express—”
Royhan stopped mid-sentence when he noticed someone behind them.
It was Margaret, who had removed her thick glasses while trying on clothes. Her composed, graceful eyes looked entirely different without them. Royhan stammered,
“Th-this lady is…?”
Carla spoke dryly, as if pitying him.
“She’s Lady Celia’s sponsored companion. You met her earlier in the reception room, didn’t you?”
“Ah… r-right?”
Royhan’s face turned slightly red. Julin, too, gave Fleer and Royhan an ambiguous look. Fleer simply smiled softly.
“If the heart is sincere, it’ll reach her—whether spoken or not.”
“Talk. I’m going insane here.”
Celia whispered to the doll resting on her hand.
“Why did you bring me all the way here?”
The doll pointed again, indicating a direction as if to guide her. The place it led to was…
“The Capital Guard headquarters?”
Celia stood still and looked up at the high red wall—emblematic of the city guards. Dense brush surrounded it, making the interior invisible from the outside.
Clack, clack.
The doll pointed directly at the wall. Celia stared at it.
“You want me to climb that? Why?”
The doll remained stubbornly silent.
A trap? Or something else…
“Ah.”
Celia studied its face, then suddenly dashed forward and leapt over the wall. She landed soundlessly, almost weightless. The moment her feet touched the ground, she hid behind a nearby building. The doll clattered in surprise.
“Quiet.”
The building appeared to be a storage room for guard uniforms. Celia swiftly grabbed a cloak, threw it around herself, and pulled up the hood.
“Lead the way.”
The doll hesitated, then pointed toward an entrance leading underground—the prison attached to the headquarters. A damp, moldy smell wafted from below.
Her footsteps echoed as she followed the long corridor to the end—where only one cell was occupied.
“I figured it’d be you.”
“……”
Inside sat a terrified woman—the scarecrow mage from the entrance exam.
“H-how did you know…?”
“The doll’s face looked a lot like the scarecrow’s. Magical tools always carry traces of their maker, don’t they?”
“I thought you were a swordswoman.”
“I’m a magic swordswoman. I know enough about magical items.”
(Though in truth, it was just knowledge from her past life.)
Celia held up the clattering doll.
“So, why bring me here?”
“P-please… help me.”
The mage’s face was ghostly pale, trembling pitifully.
She’d likely been abandoned by the Phillips family after what happened at the exam.
“And why should I?”
“I… I’ll give you information.”
Information. Now that was interesting—especially if it concerned a noble family. The more cards she held, the better. But…
“You’re just a minor member, right? That’s why they dropped you so easily. I doubt you have any real information.”
“……”
After hesitating, the mage’s expression hardened with resolve.
“You’re not wrong… but…”
“But?”
“I can expose the fraud the Phillips family committed during the exam—and other wrongdoings, too…”
“That’s something you should do anyway. Not immediately, though—when I ask for it later.”
Specifically, when Celia regained her full power and went independent.
But if she pressured the woman now, she might panic and bolt, so Celia spoke carefully.
“If you promise that, I’ll help you escape soon—”
“You must do it now!”
The mage’s sudden desperation made Celia frown.
‘That’s not just panic from being cut off.’
“Why so urgent?”
“There’s no time.”
The woman bit her lips repeatedly before whispering,
“They might try to kill me.”
“The Phillips family?”
Sure, they’d covered up her cheating, but killing her outright? That seemed excessive.
Then came a shocking answer.
“…No. The royal family.”
“What? Why’s the royal family involved?”
“I hid under the Phillips family to escape them! Heinz refused to take me in, so they were my next option.”
“You’re a former royal court mage?”
The woman nodded faintly, hands trembling so badly that the doll rattled violently.
“The Phillips family doesn’t know. I changed my face and even my magical signature before running away. When they needed a discreet mage for the entrance exam, I volunteered. I thought being under a noble house would keep me safe from direct pursuit.”
Celia lowered her voice.
“What happened with the royal family?”
“That…”
The mage fumbled through her sleeve and pulled something out.
The next instant, Celia’s vision was drawn into it.
Huh.
‘This… looks exactly like that time.’
Just like when she’d grabbed the demonic beast and seen Illod’s memory.
Darkness swallowed her surroundings.
Celia found herself standing in a desolate wasteland—and she recognized the figure before her instantly.
‘What the—?’
It was Illod Heinz, clad in his familiar white armor, hair tied up neatly.
He looked ahead, confusion in his eyes. Celia followed his gaze—and saw it.
A gigantic, beating heart.
Thump. Thump.
It was breathtakingly beautiful—an almost unreal sight.
Then—
Thud!
A beam of violent mana shot from the heart and pierced straight through Illod’s chest.
“—Hah!”
Celia’s vision snapped back.
The mage was still holding up the object—a tiny fragment, no bigger than the tip of a finger.
“That…?”
“I’ve been keeping this—”
Drip.
Blood spilled from her mouth.
Bang! Her body convulsed violently.
“Hey!”
Celia shouted in alarm. The woman collapsed, twitching uncontrollably. Celia tore the cell door open and pressed her down.
“Someone! Emergency! The prisoner’s—!”
As she restrained the thrashing woman—
“What’s going on here?!”
At the end of the corridor stood Lyman Jaykal, flanked by other city guards.
