1 Second Invincibility in the Game

Hardcore mode can also be quite an enjoyable challenge. In games, if you get a game over, you just restart from the save point. But this is reality. If you’re willing to choose a perilous path where your life is at stake, you’re simply a madman. I quickly placed my hand back on the orb. Now that the ‘1-second invincibility’ cooldown was active, a proper evaluation would appear.

“Why don’t you check it again?”

Fortunately, the orb emitted the lowest tier, a brown light.

“Well, now it shows that, but just a moment ago—”

“It’s easy to confuse the colors. Black and brown can look quite similar.” I interrupted Erucel’s rebuttal with shameless logic.

Suspicion remained on his face but soon faded. The idea that the usually drunk Hersel was actually an immeasurable powerhouse was far less plausible. Even Deisel seemed to nod slightly, not considering the recent event significant.

“Sometimes the color can appear different depending on the angle or intensity of the light. Or perhaps it was just a misperception due to one’s condition that day.”

He added an explanation to my insistent reasoning.

It would have been fine if he had stopped there.

He viewed this situation as quite troublesome. A slight tension arose. Was I about to face a balance patch? Just then, Deisel placed the orb back on the cushion held by the butler.

“The orb must have malfunctioned temporarily.”

A sense of relief washed over me. But I couldn’t let my guard down. The person who stood to gain the most from my death was right in front of me. I had to stay constantly alert.

Deisel Ben Tenest, the second in line for succession. According to what Selly told me, his evaluation within the mansion was respectable, his martial prowess exceptional, and there were rumors that he was secretly receiving heir training. Trained and educated from a young age, with careful image management, Deisel required my death to secure his position as head of the family.

I had to resist to prevent that from happening.

Tap-tap—

The sound of heels made my ears twitch. It came from beyond the door. The mistress’s entrance was imminent. Both Deisel and Erucel stood up as if trained, watching the door open. Out of respect for a superior, I also stood.

A woman, dressed neither too flashy nor too plain, appeared. When I looked at her face, I doubted my eyes. The mistress’s face retained the exact appearance from her portrait. Despite the early childbearing age in this world, she had two almost grown sons. Her appearance made it impossible to believe she was a middle-aged woman who had given birth to four children.

“It’s been a while, Hersel. How have you been?”

The mistress greeted me. But I couldn’t think of an appropriate title to call her. Selly, who thought of me as crazy, said that even the delinquent Hersel wouldn’t call her an old lady or a stray cat bitch to her face…

“I’ve been well.”

So this was all I could say.

“I’m so glad you visited. Family should see each other often, and you look well, which is fortunate.”

Her tone and expression were as kind as if she were welcoming a precious guest. Anyone else watching wouldn’t believe she was a woman trying to kill me. I felt a slight chill at the facade that didn’t seem like a facade at all. 𝖗

If someone asked who was good and who was evil, the world would probably side with her. She was a noblewoman renowned for her kindness and elegance, while I was known as the scoundrel Hersel.

Tap-tap—

Dishes were placed on the table one by one. But in front of me was a particularly elaborate dish, its meat looking especially vibrant. The mistress gestured for me to eat with a warm smile.

“I asked the chef to put extra care into the dish, knowing you would come, Hersel.”

“Hmm…”

I wondered if it was poisoned, but no system window appeared. My slight disappointment was replaced by the high-quality flavor of the meat and the tang of the tomato-infused sauce. The mistress’s eyes crinkled in delight as she watched me eat the meat.

“Does it suit your taste? It’s a breed that can’t be raised here, so it’s quite difficult to get it fresh.”

Her words felt thorny. She referred to me as a breed and implied that now, before the festival ended, was the fresh period. I decided to play along.

Looking directly at her face, I replied, “It does taste different from other meats.”

“Really? That’s a relief. It would have been nicer if the Duke could join us…”

Liar. If Aol returned, the festival would end. Unlike this liar, I spoke sincerely.

“I also wish Father would come soon. So we can enjoy a family meal together.”

Even this small exchange seemed like a battle of nerves. It wasn’t advantageous for me to provoke them, but I couldn’t just sit quietly either. Acting like the loudmouthed scoundrel they knew was the right approach.

So I played the part of the impudent young master.

“But, I wonder if that day will come. Lately, I’ve seen flocks of crows pecking at corpses often. It’s a bad omen. When Father returns, I intend to suggest bringing hunters.”

Crows pecking at corpses meant you and your servants.

“Really? I haven’t seen a single bird lately.”

The mistress’s skillful, seemingly innocent response was audacious. Her composure, even if she stood next to a bloodied corpse with a knife, declaring, “It wasn’t me,” would be believable for at least three seconds.

A small flame flickered in my chest. Ah, the feeling of blood boiling. The look that seeks to demean everything, the arrogant chin rising of its own accord. The trait ‘Embers of Noble Blood’ seemed to recognize the mistress’s provocation as fuel. To appear more like Hersel, I let go of the reins I had firmly gripped with my willpower.

Thus emerged a haughty yet dignified brat.

“We’re among ourselves here, so speak freely.”

My disrespect ended the pretense of a warm family gathering in an instant. Erucel, recalling ingrained fears, broke into a cold sweat but soon scowled fiercely. Deisel, who had been silently eating, glared at me with unprecedented ferocity. The mistress calmed her two sons with a mere gesture.

After a few seconds, the mistress spoke.

“Do you want an honest answer? Even if you die, no one will be sad. Because no one loves you. So just step aside and die. Is that the answer you wanted?”

There was no hint of agitation. Her expression revealed nothing, and her tone was extremely elegant. This woman was extraordinary.

“What else would Hersel want to hear? I can’t think of anything. Would you tell me?”

“Mother is asking, Hersel. What else do you want to hear?”

When the mistress looked into my eyes, the atmosphere changed. The source of this unsettling fear seemed to stem from her eyes, which seemed to look deep within. Despite this, I had to keep staring into her hawk-like eyes that seemed to prey on rabbits.

Instinct read one clear signal.

This woman. If she deems you insignificant, she’ll tear out your throat anytime, even now.

“…Haven’t there always been opportunities to kill me?”

In hindsight, yes. There had been plenty of chances long before now to strangle the young Hersel.

The fact that she hadn’t taken those chances only supported my theory that she saw it as amusement. The mistress smiled gently at my question.

My suspicion was correct.

“Since I married the Duke. And even now.”

A chill ran down my spine. My senses screamed that if I wanted to survive, I had to maintain her interest. Of course, that meant not appearing weak.

“You asked what I want to hear? Not something I can tell you now.”

I smiled to stay alive. Then I stood up.

“The words ‘forgive me’ will come from your mouth later.”

My heart pounded furiously. Time to get out of here.

***

The mistress let Hersel go. He had come this far because he was confident he could leave. Besides, she didn’t really want to stop him.

‘Interesting.’

She sat in her office, enjoying a lemon tea.

‘He wasn’t intimidated even in front of Deisel.’

The mistress found this peculiar. From childhood, Deisel had thoroughly beaten Hersel in sword training, yet how could he…?

She had ensured Deisel instilled fear so deeply that Hersel would lay down his sword early, recognizing his brother as an object of terror. How could this change?

There were many other mysteries.

When Hersel ate the meat, why didn’t he show any distaste?

The mistress had served him a special dish with a tomato-based sauce. Yet he ate it with apparent enjoyment. This was the same Hersel who, in the past, openly expressed his hatred for tomatoes, even in front of the family head.

“Elma.”

The mistress called for the head maid.

“You’re still recording what he eats, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress. Mirei has documented everything. I’ll bring it right away.”

The report handed over by the head maid showed no mention of tomatoes. It was too short a time to assume his tastes had changed. These accumulating facts brought forth one thought: The being inside that shell might not be the chick they knew.

It seemed like the same appearance and atmosphere, but the core had changed entirely…

‘Could it be some kind of enchantment? If so, it would explain why he’s survived until now.’

The mistress stored this suspicion deep in her heart. She put down her teacup and looked at the head maid, who seemed to have something to say.

“Is there something you want to say?”

“Is it really alright to have them move? There are many with dubious backgrounds. I’m worried something might go wrong.”

The mistress responded with a faint smile.

“Do you know the saying, ‘The longer the tail, the more likely it is to be stepped on’?”

“Yes, I know it.”

“But their tails were too long. If it weren’t for one stroke of bad luck, they would have kept their tails well hidden for who knows how long.”

The head maid stopped speaking. Seeing the faint smile, she knew the mistress would not suffer any harm even if things went awry.

Historically, such incidents were common in noble families. Those who seemed fine would quickly turn insane, fall into deep depression, commit suicide, or go missing. These were common tragic human affairs. However, some people made it look that way.

Those people were now occupying the old warehouse of the mansion. In the dilapidated building, dust rose with every card played on the table. The dust swirled around the conversation between a maid and a middle-aged butler.

“I was starting to like this life… But it’s ending now?”

“It’s a shame. There were many kind people here. If I’d grown up in such an environment, I might have lived a proper life.”

“Maybe. But who cares? Once the job’s done, we get paid and no longer live as fugitives. Look, I won this round!”

The maid’s face filled with delight as she saw her cards. However, the butler’s revealed hand showed a straight flush, higher than hers.

“I won again.”

He swiftly collected the money from the table. The maid, having lost her entire month’s salary, twiddled her fingers and pouted.

“But when this job’s done… how about we blackmail the mistress for more money? If we threaten to expose her, she’ll pay whatever we ask.”

“You don’t know her well. She’s not someone to mess with. Even the slightest provocation could make you disappear without a trace.”

His serious tone made the maid scoff.

To her, it sounded like a ridiculous joke.

“What? Assassins? We do the killing, not the other way around. What nonsense.”

“Then try it. Too bad you’ll be giving up more money.”

The butler’s unwavering attitude slightly diminished her confident grin. He wasn’t joking.

The man shaving beside them with a dagger soaked in the smell of blood was the same. Despite having killed countless nobles, why did he treat the mistress differently?

There must be a reason.

The maid organized her thoughts and asked,

“So, who’s going first to kill that guy?”

“I’ll go.”

The man with the clean-shaven face raised his hand.

“It’s been a while since I’ve played with someone.”

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