Chapter 31
Rainen's gaze toward Calyphe, who stood alone, was cold and indifferent. It wasn't strange that Calyphe was alone. In fact, it was expected.
‘Because she always kept her thorns out.’
Like a venomous rose, she barred others from approaching.
Even when fawning over Rainen, she only sharpened those thorns further.
It was natural for Rainen to frown and avoid her the moment he spotted her.
Just as he tried to turn his gaze away from Calyphe with little interest—
The families clustered together noticed Calyphe and flinched. In response, she retreated expressionlessly.
She withdrew deeper into the corner and resumed staring vacantly into space.
‘…How pitifully unlike her.’
But there was no need to care. She likely didn’t want it anyway.
At that moment, Rainen overheard Raul’s conversation with the physician.
“Gasp! There’s blood on His Lordship’s clothes!”
“Sir Raul, that’s monster blood.”
“How would an Imperial know such things?”
“Look closely—it’s purple. His Excellency wouldn’t be wounded by mere monsters. Stop overreacting.”
“Nonsense! If no one else worries, then I must! In fact, His Lordship probably enjoys it. Isn’t that right, Your Lordship?”
“……”
Rainen flicked Raul’s mouth with his knuckles and addressed the physician:
“Attend to Lady Opensa.”
“Huh? Lady Opensa…?”
Though bewildered, the physician obeyed immediately.
The Ortega family’s physicians and servants swiftly surrounded Calyphe. Her eyes narrowed.
“Why block my path?”
“By Duke Ortega’s order, we’re here to examine your injuries, Lady Opensa. Pardon the intrusion.”
“What…?!”
After bowing courteously, they began tending to her in unison.
Before she knew it, Calyphe found herself seated on a plush chair. “W-what is this? I don’t need this. Remove it!”
“With an ankle like that?” Rainen interjected.
He had approached silently and now glared disapprovingly at her swollen ankle.
Calyphe stared at him oddly.
“So you’re fussing over me now?”
“…Hardly. I’m repaying a debt.”
“A debt?”
Understanding his implication, Calyphe lowered her voice.
“You think this settles it? I’ll demand proper repayment.”
“Good. I have questions too. But too many eyes are watching—we’ll speak privately later.”
“Fine.”
Rainen waited until her ankle was treated before speaking again.
“This commotion is unbecoming. We should relocate.”
“Ah, well…”
Calyphe had stayed for a reason despite wanting to leave earlier.
‘This sudden quest is odd.’
[Sudden Quest Completed!]
[You helped the ‘Silver-Haired Man’ resolve the banquet hall’s monster outbreak.]
[Calculating rewards…]
The rewards still hadn’t arrived despite the prolonged calculation. She remained, fearing further complications.
Just then—
“Make way! Critical patient incoming!”
Healers shouted urgently while carrying a stretcher.
“Poisoned by a monster! Clear the path!”
Of all things, monster venom. What wretched luck.
Calyphe edged closer without obstructing the healers. The patient’s neck and chest showed grotesque, decaying skin—clearly poisoned hours ago. He seemed moments from death.
As Calyphe’s gaze traveled upward from the wounds, she recognized him.
“…Dietrich?”
The healers hastily laid Dietrich on a lounge sofa. Despite their efforts, his condition worsened.
“Our potions are useless! Only a supreme-grade elixir could…”
“Who brings such things to a banquet?!”
The clamor roused Dietrich. His vision blurred, breathing labored, yet he grasped the gravity—his life hung by a thread.
But he refused to believe death imminent. He still trusted one hope:
‘If I die now, it’ll trouble Marquis Kaiman.’
Their deal to remove Calyphe Opensa guaranteed the Marquis would send elite healers. Specialists in restorative magic.
He tried to instruct his servants to greet them, but—
“Ghck—”
No sound emerged.
‘Damn. Did the poison ruin my throat?’
Only wheezing escaped, each breath agony.
‘I’ll croak before those healers arrive!’
A butler rushed in.
“Baron Dietrich!”
The elderly retainer, bandage around his head, panted as if sprinting here.
“Are you alright, sir? Why aren’t you helping him?!”
“We’ve done all we can,” a healer shrugged.
“Then fetch a priest! Guests might have one!”
“Yes, yes!”
The healers left Dietrich with the butler and exited.
Dietrich noted grimly that only this old servant came.
‘Does he fear losing his stipend if I die?’
No matter.
He signaled the butler, who understood instantly.
“Ah! You can’t speak! Shall we write?”
The butler procured paper and pen.
Dietrich gripped the pen, determined to write: Find the Marquis’s healers.
But—
‘The letters…’
His vision swam again.
Scrawling desperately, he saw the butler’s confusion—the writing was illegible.
‘Damn it all! Why now?!’
“Sir?! Sir!”
“Cough—hack—!”
“Stay with us!”
Merely clutching the pen worsened his state. The pen clattered from his hand unnoticed.
‘Is this how I die?’
Not like this—not after clawing from the gutters.
‘I’ll break that old hag’s pride… prove gutter-born rats can rise…’
As his vision darkened—
Click.
A crisp footstep echoed.
“Pathetic.”
A golden-haired figure pierced Dietrich’s fading sight.
Calyphe Opensa leaned down, smirking crimson lips, and rapped his forehead with her fan.
“Should’ve lived virtuously.”
“Hack! You—cough—witch…!”
“How dare you strike a dying man?!” the butler protested, but shrank under her glare.
Dietrich gritted his teeth. Mocking and striking a moribund man—Calyphe surpassed even his vilest imaginings.
“If I’m a demon, you’re indebted to one,” she said, producing a vial.
After smacking the cork open, she forced his jaw apart and poured the contents down his throat.
“Ghk—cough!”
“Baron!”
Dietrich gulped reflexively. When released, he roared:
“What madness is this, you lunatic?!”
“Sir?! You’re speaking?!”
“Old fool! What sorcery—”
“Your vigor returned! The poison’s cured?!”
Dietrich jolted. Strength flooded his limbs. The searing pain ebbed, his skin regenerating.
Calyphe smiled with relief.
“Y-you… saved me?”
Her smile sharpened as Dietrich gaped—that signature vicious, bloodthirsty grin!
He recoiled instantly.
“Of course! What scheme is this?! Don’t you dare think you’ve won me over!”
“……?”
Calyphe arched one brow.
