On the afternoon of July 3, at the Laval House, in Allen’s bedroom.
Hugo was in front of the tall dressing mirror in the room, constantly striking various chuunibyou poses.
He wore a uniquely designed skin-tight combat suit.
The main body was green and black with exquisite armored textures on the chest.
Most eye-catching were the massive red goggles that looked like insectoid compound eyes and the flowing red scarf.
The overall look was full of power and speed, clearly inspired by a grasshopper.
“Heh! Ha!” Hugo punched and side-kicked at the mirror, providing his own sound effects. “Henshin! Rider Kick!”
His appearance, completely immersed and unable to part with the suit, was the spitting image of a big kid who had just received his favorite toy.
Allen leaned against the window, watching Hugo show off. A helpless yet amused smile couldn’t help but cross his face.
This exquisite “suit,” even if it were just a costume for roleplay, would have cost a staggering amount in materials and craftsmanship.
Moreover, this was no ordinary costume. It was a functional combat suit woven from black technology materials by the Church.
Although he owed Archbishop Lucien another favor, Allen felt it was worth it to see Hugo so happy.
It wasn’t bad to have another companion who shared his chuunibyou tendencies.
Marianne entered the bedroom carrying tea and snacks, just in time to see the two men staging a “Kamen Rider 1 versus Scorpion Man” mini-theater.
She sighed and quipped, “Could you two please act a bit more like nobles?”
Seeing his young maid, Allen smiled and retracted the “monster claws” he was using for the roleplay. “How did Uncle Bernard’s talk with my father go?”
“They had a very pleasant conversation,” Marianne said, placing the refreshments on the table.
“My Lord seems to intend to sponsor the Earl’s life in the Capital. After all, with him becoming the Minister of Finance, having a powerful Crestbearer as an aide is always a good thing.”
“Indeed, at least my father’s safety is guaranteed.” Allen nodded, looking at Hugo, who was still entranced by the mirror.
“Hey, Hugo, stop being so vain. Now that you don’t have to worry about your family’s finances, go be a hero like you wanted. Our Workers’ Patrol has established a rudimentary communication network in the Lower City. Once they spot a Cultist or a troublemaking Crestbearer, they’ll send a signal. You can rush to support them immediately.”
Of course, this communication network was still primitive, relying mostly on human couriers.
If this era had electricity, Allen really would have wanted to install a “Bat-Signal” on the highest bell tower in the Capital to project into the night sky, letting Hugo cosplay as Batman.
Now that would be intimidating!
As for why he didn’t cosplay as Batman himself…
Allen was self-aware. With his style, it probably wouldn’t be a Dark Knight appearing in the Capital, but more likely a “Midnight Lord” who enjoyed human body art…
Come to think of it, what were the Midnight Lords again? It sounded like some strange criminal organization.
“Leave it to me, partner!”
Hugo finally turned away from the mirror. Even through the massive red compound eye goggles, Allen could feel the confidence and excitement in his tone.
Allen looked at Hugo, thinking to himself that the capturable characters from the original ‘Starlit Romance’ seemed to be crossing paths with this “Heir of the Villain” more and more.
Livia, Marianne, and now Hugo… who would be next?
He just hoped it wouldn’t be that idiot, Crown Prince Charles.
As for his sister, Princess Charlotte… well, she was a beautiful girl, so a little interaction might not be so bad.
Allen brushed those thoughts aside and casually mentioned the afternoon’s events.
“When I came back this afternoon, I happened to run into your family visiting. Fortunately, my father was home today; otherwise, the Laval House would have been quite rude in our hospitality. To be honest, your father seems quite upright.”
He said this with a slight hint of a jab. Official visits between nobles usually required a formal request in advance.
For Bernard’s family to just show up at the door was a bit of a rude surprise.
Hugo also knew it wasn’t handled well. He scratched his head — even though it was through a combat helmet — and explained awkwardly, “Cough, my old man looks like a serious knight, but he’s actually missing a gear in his head. He insisted on dragging me here to visit your house. I couldn’t win against him.”
‘What a guy, shifting the blame so quickly.’
Allen chuckled inwardly. This fellow had probably been the one to encourage his father to come along, likely wanting to show off his friendship with the young master of the Laval House.
This whole family was straightforward and didn’t think about the complexities of noble social interactions.
However, this also showed that the Laval House had truly moved past its previous crisis.
Thinking back to not long ago, when the house was on the brink of bankruptcy and wobbling in political storms, others had avoided them like the plague.
Now, with the news of his father becoming the Minister of Finance spreading, the Laval House had suddenly become crowded with visitors, even overshadowing the recently returned Stern family.
Even Allen, the formerly detested “Heir of the Villain,” had recently received many sincere and “caring” letters from noble ladies.
Some expressed “worry” about Livia challenging him to a duel, while others wanted to “soothe” his potential “psychological trauma.”
Of course, he hadn’t seen a single one of those letters.
Marianne had burned them all.
Allen only found the remaining ashes in the study’s fireplace, catching Marianne in the act of “handling official business.”
“As the sister who loves her brother the most, I will take responsibility for exterminating these bugs that disturb you.”
That was what Marianne had said at the time. Her crimson eyes, devoid of highlights, were so calm it was unnerving.
Allen had no interest in being hypocritical with those noble ladies, but burning the letters was too rude.
He had intended to have Marianne ghostwrite replies to politely decline.
Until he checked the draft of the first reply she wrote. The paper was packed with the same three words, written over and over.
‘I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you…’
Allen had confiscated the paper on the spot. If that had been sent out, it would have surely caused a diplomatic incident.
Allen had no choice but to have the old butler write polite replies, thanking them for their concern while tactfully declining further communication.
After being lectured by Allen, Marianne showed no remorse, instead asking righteously, “Since you already have Livia and me, do you really need to get entangled with other flowers and weeds? You will eventually become the enemy of all nobles, so isn’t it better to cut off their hopes early?”
Her logic seemed sound, but what did she mean by “have Livia and me”?
Allen always felt like Marianne was plotting some dangerous plan he didn’t know about.
……
The three enjoyed their afternoon tea in a relaxed atmosphere.
After a while, Allen suggested, “Let’s go. I’ve received my new weapon. Let’s go practice.”
Hugo’s interest was piqued immediately. “Oh? Can I try your new weapon?”
“No,” Allen refused without thinking, subconsciously hugging the Black Sword a bit tighter.
“This is a man’s most important treasure. I can’t just let someone else play with it.”
“Fine,” Hugo didn’t mind. He carefully took off his precious combat suit and stored it away.
“I understand. I definitely won’t show this suit to my old man, either. It’s a man’s treasure, after all!”
“Right?”
The two looked at each other and smiled, a silent understanding between men blossoming between them.
Arriving at the open space in the courtyard, Allen drew the Black Sword and switched it to blunt mode so he wouldn’t hurt Hugo.
Hugo also picked up an unsharpened practice sword and took his stance.
“Weren’t you curious about the swordsmanship I used before?” Allen’s eyes locked onto Hugo’s movements.
“That was actually Livia’s swordsmanship. Now, I will attack using her moves, and you will defend.”
He paused and added, “Through this kind of actual combat, you should be able to grasp the secrets of this style.”
“How the hell can I learn swordsmanship by getting beaten up?” Hugo was caught between laughter and tears.
“By the way, when did you secretly learn Miss Livia’s swordsmanship? Do you have a secret crush on her?”
“…That’s just how I learned it,” Allen said in a flat tone. “I think you’re pretty durable, so you should be able to learn it too.”
Before he finished speaking, a black shadow tore through the air, arriving in front of Hugo in an instant.
“Holy — ! A sneak attack!”
Hugo’s scalp tingled. He rolled backward almost on instinct, the wind of the sword grazing the tip of his nose, carrying a bone-chilling coldness.
As soon as he regained his footing, he found that Allen’s aura had changed.
He was no longer the usually gentle, smiling noble youth, or even the one who occasionally leaked a villainous aura.
At this moment, the look in Allen’s eyes was one of absolute coldness that disregarded life, as if all things in the world were merely lines that could be cut.
The faint golden light in the depths of his eyes also brightened slightly.
“Her offense is like this — no warning, aiming directly for the vitals.” Allen’s steady voice carried an intense pressure. “Come. Try your best to — stay alive!”
“Hey, hey, hey! Buddy, you’re serious? I was just joking. Are you trying to kill me?”
This hot-blooded idiot, who had spent his life bullying weaker opponents and had rarely experienced true life-and-death combat, was now facing the combat instincts Allen had honed through countless cycles of reincarnation in a sea of corpses.
Hugo immediately felt a mountain of pressure, and his back began to sweat. Was this really practice? It felt like his life was on the line!
Allen ignored his complaints and swung the Black Sword again.
The Black Sword transformed into a lethal flow of light in his hand, every movement carrying a cruel beauty. That was Livia’s unique swordsmanship style — elegant, precise, and fatal.
The blunt blade sliced through the air, letting out a heavy hum. To Hugo’s ears, it sounded like the whisper of the Reaper, more heart-pounding than any shriek.
Hugo gritted his teeth as the power of the Sun Emblem surged within him, giving him enhanced reactions and strength to barely keep up with Allen’s tempo.
But he soon discovered in despair that Allen’s attacks had no redundant movements.
Every strike aimed at a vital point, and every step was as if measured with a ruler, perfectly pinning him in the most uncomfortable position.
‘This swordsmanship…’ Hugo thought as he retreated, his mind in a state of chaos. ‘I can’t see any openings!’
*Clang!*
The tip of Allen’s sword tapped lightly. Hugo instinctively raised his sword to parry, only to find it was a feint.
A massive force traveled up the blade, numbing his arm.
The real attack came from another angle as the heavy hilt slammed hard into his ribs.
“Ugh!” Hugo let out a muffled groan, staggering backward.