Chapter Sixteen: A Social Gathering?
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The reconnaissance mission was completed, and the officials, knights, and soldiers all returned safely.
The funerals for those who had died during the mission were conducted simply and swiftly. Since the deputy commander of the Second Division had lost his life, most of the personnel, including Yohan, came to pay their respects.
"He was a good man…"
"Though he was bold, he always got things done properly."
"Deputy Commander, may you rest in a better place."
The officials expressed their sorrow at his death. He was a man of great repute, so it was only natural that many mourned his passing.
"..."
Amid this somber atmosphere, one man stood silently in a corner, his face hardened as he lost himself in thought.
'Displeasing.'
It was Fedelian, the commander of the Second Division.
'Originally, Yohan Harsen, you should've been lying in that coffin as well.'
Most of the troops who went south—no, all of them—should have been resting within that casket.
But that didn't happen. Yohan Harsen, who had just recently reached the first stage of mastery, had shown unexpected skill, completely ruining the plan.
'Utterly infuriating.'
Fedelian quietly clenched his fists. His heart raced with anger, his pulse threatening to surge, but as a prince, he knew when to conceal his emotions and wear a mask.
Of course, this wasn't the only reason for his displeasure.
'Francia.'
The flower atop the cliff that should have been his was now sullied by someone else. That was something he simply could not accept.
The failed plan? He could try again next time. The loss of a capable deputy commander? He could always appoint a new one.
But the defilement of a woman's purity was a different matter entirely. That was irreversible.
'Truly… unbearable.'
Fedelian had never been denied anything he wanted.
If he desired something, he needed only to ask. If he wished for it, he simply took it.
But Francia Fervache? Even though he wanted her, he could not have her. No matter how far he reached, she remained beyond his grasp. Not only could he not possess her, but she had also been taken by another man.
Not only did he fail to make her his, but another man had taken everything he longed for. He had possessed her, defiled her purity, and claimed her entirely.
It was almost laughable that he could be so consumed by one woman, but losing her wasn't just the loss of a possession. It felt like his authority, his very existence, was being undermined.
This was a twisted psychology born of a lifetime of privilege and power.
From birth, Fedelian had possessed everything, raised in an environment where no one dared to oppose him.
For someone like him, the concept of "not being able to have what he wanted" was utterly foreign. To him, anything he desired was inherently his property.
Why was he so obsessed with Francia? Because she was the first "uncontrollable object" he had ever encountered.
She was unique—a rare wielder of healing magic, with beauty unparalleled in high society. Like a flower atop a sheer cliff, she was extraordinary.
The fact that he couldn't suppress or dominate her only fueled his competitive spirit, turning his desire into obsession.
As if completely possessing her would restore his pride and authority, this twisted psychology drove him.
'Francia, you won't escape my grasp.'
Fedelian clenched his fist once more.
In the end, it would be he who claimed her.
***
After the brief condolences ended, the officials returned to the training ground.
They needed to submit their final reports before taking leave.
And the most significant event awaited—the official appointment ceremony of a special-class mage.
"Yohan Harsen, Special-Class Mage. You are hereby officially recognized as a member of the Second Division. Congratulations on becoming a Special-Class Mage."
Fedelian, the commander, personally placed an emerald dog tag around Yohan's neck, marking the conclusion of the ceremony.
"I will do my best."
"..."
Fedelian's expression looked as if he'd bitten into something foul. Yohan suppressed a grin with all his might at the sight.
"Congratulations, Harsen, the Special-Class Mage!"
"Yohan, congratulations!"
"Welcome aboard!"
The members of the Second Division, on the other hand, wholeheartedly celebrated the arrival of their new Special-Class Mage.
And for good reason.
Not only had he saved everyone during their trial-like first reconnaissance mission, but he'd also defeated a Special-Grade beast.
To them, Yohan is the new hero of the Second Division.
"Thank you."
Yohan smiled and expressed his gratitude to the officials.
"Yohan?"
Violet approached him with a sly smile.
She spoke as she lightly ran her hand over Yohan's shoulder, as if she were accustomed to doing so.
"Congratulations on officially becoming a Special-Class Mage. But… is my earlier proposal still pending?"
"Pending? I'm not sure what you mean."
Yohan's face turned cold, but Violet simply smiled slyly.
"What do you mean? I asked if you'd accompany me as my partner to the upcoming social party, and you said you'd think about it."
Her blatant lie caused a stir among the onlookers.
"What? So he wasn't in a relationship with Fervache, the Special-Class Mage?"
"Looks like it was just something casual. I get it."
"With a face like that, it's inevitable he'd get caught in some drama."
But Yohan wasn't one to be rattled by such antics. He had dealt with countless tricks from noble ladies of high-ranking families before.
"First-Class Mage, Ratalen, I really don't understand what you're talking about. Didn't I politely decline last time? I told you I'm in a relationship with Fervache, the Special-Class Mage, and that I'd be attending with her."
Yohan spoke calmly, tilting his head slightly. His expression didn't change in the slightest.
"Oh my. So I've been demoted from Violet to Ratalen, First-Class Mage? Does this mean I've crossed the line?"
"You're quite perceptive."
"That's a shame. I really wanted to go to this party with you. I suppose I'll have to find someone else."
Violet shrugged her shoulders, then leaned in close to whisper softly in Yohan's ear.
"Look forward to it."
"..."
With that, she smiled brightly and turned to leave.
'Look forward to what? Crazy woman.'
Yohan could only bite back his thoughts as he watched her walk away.
"Ahem. Let's all focus on work! We're about to go on leave, so let's wrap things up and head home!"
The one who changed the topic to break the tension was Merdin, the same man who had kept Yohan and Francia's relationship a secret on Yohan's first day at the Division.
This time, too, it was clear Merdin was stepping in to help Yohan.
'Didn't he say he'd propose after this mission?'
Perhaps that's why his face was beaming with joy.
'Good for him.'
If Yohan hadn't ordered a retreat and faced the Special-Grade beast alone, Merdin wouldn't have survived, and his fiancée would have been left alone.
Thinking about it filled Yohan with a strange sense of satisfaction.
"Yohan!"
As Yohan was organizing documents, another woman approached him.
"Francia."
It was Francia. She seemed ready to leave, having already submitted her report.
A warm smile spread across Yohan's lips.
"Have you finished everything?"
"Yes. There wasn't much to report, so it didn't take long. How about you?"
"I still have some left. I need to give a detailed account of the Special-Grade beast."
Francia tilted her head, her long black hair cascading over her shoulder.
"Should I help you?"
"It's fine. I'll finish quickly."
"Alright. Then I'll wait for you outside?"
"Sure, that works."
When Yohan smiled warmly, Francia nodded in satisfaction and headed outside.
The two were set to return together to the Fervache ducal residence today.
It was the day they would see the results of Yohan's agreement with the Duke of Fervache.
'I handled the task well enough, but…'
Who knew what kind of nitpicking or additional demands would arise? Yohan knew he couldn't let his guard down.
Inside the carriage heading to the Fervache capital estate,
Francia spoke.
"My father said he will arrive tomorrow."
"I see. Will his schedule allow it?"
"Yes, he's busy, but he said he managed to make time."
Currently, the Empire's four major families, known as the core of the nation, were in an extremely busy period.
Winter was approaching, requiring not only the eradication of Demonic beasts from Lairs but also inspections of the borders shared with neighboring countries.
On top of that, the estates needed to stockpile food and resources for winter preparations. It was inevitable that everyone would be swamped.
"Aren't you nervous?"
Francia glanced up at him cautiously. Yohan answered with an awkward smile.
"Of course I'm nervous."
It would be nice if Duke Fervache simply declared, 'That's it! You're now officially a son-in-law of the Fervache family!'
But Yohan knew the duke wouldn't stop there.
Instead, he would likely assign Yohan more challenging tasks to groom him into someone worthy of being Fervache's son-in-law.
"Still, my father is a very affectionate man. You've already proven yourself by handling that special-grade demon beast alone and saving so many people."
While Francia imagined a positive outcome, Yohan's conclusion was more skeptical.
"I hope things work out smoothly enough to make my worries seem unfounded."
Not wanting to share his honest thoughts, he opted for a neutral response.
"By the way, there's a social party coming up soon."
"Are you worried about it?"
"No, not exactly…."
Francia twirled a strand of her long black hair around her finger as she continued.
"It's just that a lot of unpleasant people tend to gather at such events."
As she said, the upcoming social party would include members of both the 1st and 2nd Division, bringing together numerous unpleasant individuals.
Commander Cassis Lenokhonen of the 1st Division.
Commander Fedelian Rozino of the 2nd Division.
Fedelian's fiancée, Rudella Bismarck.
And many others.
Even Yohan felt a headache coming on at the thought, so how much worse must it have been for her?
"You don't need to worry too much. I'll be there."
"Hehe, true. You've always protected me in difficult situations."
Francia smiled warmly and then asked,
"Have you decided what you'll wear to the party?"
"Not yet. I was planning to coordinate with you."
"That kind of thoughtfulness is what I adore about you."
When attending a social party with a partner, it's customary to match dress codes.
Yohan, aware of this, had been waiting for her to bring it up.
"Before meeting my father tomorrow, let's go pick out outfits together."
"Sounds good. Let's do that."
"Do you have a preferred color? I was thinking…"
The conversation in the carriage was lighthearted and friendly as they made their way to the Fervache capital estate.
***
At the same time, in the Imperial Palace.
Rudella Bismarck walked in silence down the long corridor.
Crossing the familiar hallway, she stopped in front of a large arched door.
"Haaa…."
She let out a deep sigh without realizing it.
Though she often visited the Crown Prince's residence, the psychological resistance and suffocating discomfort never went away.
But she had to go in.
They needed to discuss the upcoming matters.
She had to serve and support him as he ascended to the throne.
It was what she had been taught.
Knocking on the door, she spoke,
"Your Highness, may I enter?"
"Enter."
Click.
The arched door swung open, revealing a luxurious room.
Inside, Crown Prince Fedelian was perched on a desk, reviewing documents.
"Your Highness."
"What brings you here today?"
"It's regarding the upcoming social party."
"Ah, that."
Fedelian set the documents down on the desk with a thud and tilted his head.
"Have you come to request me as your partner?"
"It's not a request. As your fiancée, it is only natural─"
"There is nothing 'natural' in this world, Lady Bismarck."
Fedelian spoke in a bored, indifferent tone.
"I learned that recently myself. I thought I had everything, but apparently, I do not."
Rising from the desk, he walked toward Rudella.
"What are you trying to say?"
"Society may see us as an engaged couple, but we're not particularly close, are we? I believe I'm free to choose my partner for this occasion as I see fit."
"..."
Rudella opened her mouth to speak but couldn't utter a single word.
"Well, the woman I was planning to take as my partner seems to have found someone else, so I'll let it be. Lady Bismarck, shouldn't you be happy? This should be good news for you."
Fedelian smirked and ran a hand along Rudella's cheek.
She frowned in disgust but quickly regained her composure.
"After all, you love me more than anyone else."
"..."
"Am I wrong?"
"No, you're correct."
"Good. Now that you've given me the answer I wanted, you may leave."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Rudella closed her eyes briefly and lowered her head. The love she had been taught—indoctrinated with—felt warped and twisted.
Was it even fair to call it love?
Rudella couldn't be sure, but she no longer cared.
After all, she was merely a convenient tool for the Marquis of Bismarck.