Ileil knew that now was probably the moment when her father’s killer, ‘Black Edge’ Gro de Morant, was at his weakest and most powerless.
Half a month ago, Gro had sustained serious injuries. When Ileil learned of this news, Gro wasn’t in Renn Town yet, and she missed the best opportunity to kill him.
She had personally experienced the terror of this man in his prime. Setting aside his overwhelming dominance in direct combat—Gro’s meticulous mind contrasted sharply with his carefree exterior. Pretending to obey Gro, Ileil simply couldn’t find a suitable moment to assassinate him.
…
“Good timing. Right now, even picking up a sword feels strenuous for me. The only person I can trust is Kaze by my side, but he became the one you exploited…”
Ileil ignored Gro’s nonsense. She raised her left arm, the short sword gleaming coldly straight at his throat. Gro, as if he had seen through her attack long ago, lifted his knee to knock aside Ileil’s arm. Ileil endured the intense pain in her arm, wanting to follow up with another strike—but Gro merely chanted a few incantations in the opening, and Ileil’s body became immobile.
“Really, Ileil. You were just a little short of avenging your great grudge.”
Gro stood up from the chair, looking at the girl who had fallen to the ground due to loss of strength, smiling as he said:
“You neither noticed the insurance I left on you, nor killed me before the spell was cast.”
He stared at Ileil’s face, mixed with anger and confusion, sighingæ„Ÿæ…¨:
“If you were a stranger I didn’t know, the one lying on the ground should be me—but you are the child I watched grow up. Wouldn’t I know the moves you’re accustomed to? Even your dear father Isende probably doesn’t understand you as well as I do now.”
“Shut up…”
Ileil’s golden pupils were full of rage, fierce as if to ignite the man.
“You beast… you’re not worthy to be mentioned in the same breath as Father.”
The smile on Gro’s face disappeared, a sharp light bursting from his deep blue eyes. “I’m not worthy? Then let me ask you—having repeatedly lost to your father’s killer, surviving on the mercy of others, do you have the qualification to be the eldest son of ‘Blade Ghost’ Isende Claude?”
Gro’s words were like choking Ileil’s throat; he mercilessly struck the girl’s weak spot with words:
“What’s ridiculous is that you’ve even been deprived of your qualification as a man. Now you are a witch. And an incompetent one, ignorant of spells.
“Don’t forget, who saved you from the failed mission two years ago. I specifically saved you only because you still had utility value, and incidentally cleaned up your remaining mess.”
If Gro’s words were just sophistry to shake her heart, Ileil naturally wouldn’t pay attention.
—But every word Gro said was a fact that pierced the heart like a knife.
…
“Then hurry up and kill me now,” the girl said hoarsely.
“Kill you? For you, death would be quite easy.” Gro snorted coldly, lifting Ileil’s chin. “But I won’t destroy a tool that can still be used.”
“I don’t need your pity, Gro…!!!”
Ileil struggled desperately like a mad beast, trying to break free from contact with Gro: “Even if you let me go now, I’ll find an opportunity to kill you in the future… I’ll always hate you, always waiting for you to show a flaw… forever!”
“I’ve heard the same words so many times my ears are calloused. Boring.” Gro’s expression seemed somewhat disappointed. He pressed the struggling girl to the ground with one hand, saying in a deep voice:
“If Isende saw his son turned into an empty shell of revenge, what would he think?”
“…” Ileil gritted her teeth. This time, she didn’t make a sound.
“It seems you’re not beyond saving.” Gro’s tone softened a bit. He pulled out a piece of paper that seemed prepared long ago from his pocket, sighing helplessly:
“I thought the time to use it would be later.”
“Bastard… what are you going to do to me?”
Ileil glanced at the parchment filled with runes in Gro’s hand, unusually showing fear.
“It’s not something that completely enslaves you; this is just a contract that’s relatively fair to both you and me.”
Gro pricked Ileil’s fingertip, pressing her bleeding hand onto the paper.
The characters on the paper began to glow upon contact with blood, strange magic flowing into her body through the wound on the girl’s fingertip, surging into the depths of her soul. The girl hated this feeling of being manipulated, but her powerless body couldn’t resist at all.
“The contract’s content is simple: ‘Between the contractors, no actions that harm the other’s interests shall be taken.’ As for what constitutes ‘harm’ and ‘interests,’ that depends on your subconscious subjectivity. After all, the effect of this contract is imprinted on your soul.”
“But that doesn’t mean you won’t have a chance for revenge in the future. I can point out two clear paths for you…”
Gro changed the subject, extending two fingers to explain to Ileil, whose eyes were full of unease:
“First, find loopholes in the contract and find a suitable opportunity to eliminate me. But I don’t recommend you do that; the consequences of failing to break the contract are unbearable for you.”
“Second, dutifully complete the tasks I assign. If you can satisfy me, I’ll make an exception and give you a chance to duel me.”
He deliberately said the second option in a light tone. After Ileil was forced to sign the contract, the feeling of weakness in the girl’s body gradually disappeared.
Gro also sat back in his previous chair as if nothing had happened, as if the episode where Ileil almost assassinated him had never occurred. He seemed very confident in the contract’s effect.
…
“Long time no see, Mr. Gro.”
A deep male voice sounded from behind Ileil. Before the girl could react to who was behind her, Gro squeezed out a smile again, warmly greeting the voice’s owner:
“Good afternoon, Duke Lokas. You look quite well. How’s the situation in Aressto lately?”
“Barely manageable.” The duke wanted to sit down and discuss the important matters of their meeting with Gro, but looking at this strange girl half-kneeling in front of Gro, he couldn’t ignore her.
“Excuse me, Mr. Gro.” The duke’s azure pupils reflected the girl’s slender figure as he asked:
“May I ask who this young lady is? She doesn’t look well.”
“Ah… really sorry, look at my memory. I almost forgot to introduce her to you!”
Gro very naturally pulled Ileil up from her half-kneeling posture, holding her shoulders to face her toward the duke:
“This pretty girl is called Ileil—she’s the daughter I adopted.”