Chapter 6: Interlude (2).

That evening, I found myself in the company of a select few, a gathering comprised of those of low nobles.

The gathering appeared to be a welcoming affair of sorts.

It seems my rather brash and forceful demeanor at the gates deterred most of them from approaching me.

Later I heard from Raymond and Daniel that they almost exclude me from the party itself. As one might anticipate, they are the only people who willingly approach me first.

At this point it appears that a certain force of destiny is inexorably guiding events in a certain direction, or perhaps it is simply inevitable that this body and they are fated to become friends.

In any case, I am deeply grateful for their presence. Like how they are described in the novel, they could be bold and outspoken at times, yet remarkably friendly and easy to get along with.

It's somewhat surreal to contemplate that characters who were once irrelevant and fictional are now real, and that, I am sincerely grateful for their presence in my life.

Upon returning to my room, I collapsed onto my bed with a heavy sigh, instantly feeling the weight of the evening's events settling upon me.

"As expected master is predestined to be the archbishop of sloth. Truly, a title befitting his exceptional dedication to leisure."

"Kukuku... How does it feel to serve such a master, though?" I inquired, rolling my eyes towards him without shifting from my position.

"Perhaps you could fix that personality of yours, instead of relying on your charm challenged personality to repel potential mates, you could try to attract females naturally instead of resorting to manipulation, master?"

This bastard! I never implied that I would take advantage of my knowledge to manipulate them.

"Oh, Yeah." I responded with a grin.

"Absolutely, because reprogramming my personality to be a chick magnet sounds like a totally feasible DIY project for the night. I'll just whip out my toolbox and sprinkle some charisma and charm?"

"Master really have a praiseworthy mouth at least."

"kuku, anyway, I still have some work Left."

As I rose from my bed, the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains cast shadows accross the room.

With a purposeful steps, I approached the plainly, yet skillfully carved wooden drawer. With a gentle tug, I slid it open, revealing the treasure trove within.

Nestled inside were a multiple bottles of strong alcohols, each of them a work of art by luxion himself.

The icy glass were delicate and gorgeous, its surface adorned with intricate patterns that adorned the eery moon light, creating a texture of elegant design.

Like a devout believer, I carefully lifted three of them with reverence from their resting place, feeling the weight of anticipation in my hands.

With a sense of anticipation, I closed the drawer, the soft click echoing in the stillness of the room.

Grabbing a glass cup, I approached the chair that stood proudly near the window, basking in the moonlight's gentle grace.

As I settled comfortably into the chair, I poured the bottle's contents into the glass, watching the liquid shimmer in the silver light.

With a slow swirl, I brought the glass to my lips and, in one smooth motion, downed its contents, feeling the warmth spread through me.

"Master, why did you refuse to drink alcohol at the party? Do you acknowledge that the alcohol created by new humans are inferior to mine, perhaps?"

Swirling the liquor inside the cup, I gave him a side eye. Such a petty bastard, I thought. But I should answer him generously, at least.

"Heh... I still won't drink yours at a prty though..."

—GULP

"Certainly, yours is probably far superior... But I just don't feel comfortable drinking when people are around."

Hearing my response, Luxion's camera lens focused and rotated towards me, giving the unsettling impression of a scrutinizing predator.

Ignoring the watchful gaze, I filled my glass again and again and again, drinking repeatedly until the last bottle was half emptied.

"Kuku, I feel a little tipsy now."

As I placed the bottles and glass on the desk under the moonlight, my eyes were drawn to the katana standing proudly nearby.

I stretched out my hand, reaching for the hilt, feeling the weight of the steel. My fingers traced the contours of the katana's scabbard resting upon it.

With deliberate care, like handling fragile glass, I drew out the blade—a striking amalgamation of steel and obsidian coloured elements.

But in reality, the tip, about six inches of steel, is the original remained of the sword I asked Luxion to prepare.

The rest of the obsidian colored blade? Well...

Taking a deep breath, I focused, placing my index finger on the steel part.

Gathering thelesma from within, I forcefully changed the nature of the steel.

After about an hour, I opened my eyes, cold sweat running down my entire body.

My nerves felt like they are completely shattered, even with a strong alcohol it was still painful.

"Shit!..." I couldn't take it anymore and put it down with a trembling hand.

After an hour of intense care and focus, with a painful process the mysterious element had only grown about a centimeter.

"Master, is this really mana the new humans are utilizing?" Luxion asked, perhaps suspicious of its nature.

"Heeh heeh heeh... yes, as I've mentioned, I found out this method from the anime I watched in my previous life." I looked at him, half smiling, with ragged breath.

...The statement was, of course, a lie.

It isn't mana, nor was it a trick I developed from watching an anime. But he needn't to know that.

Before he could ask any more questions, I stood up and carefully placed the katana back in its rightful spot.

Then, feeling the need to wash away the day's events, I headed to the bathroom. As the warm water cascaded over me, I began to sing with all my might, letting the melodies echo through the room and lift my spirits.

Ignoring all of its sarcastic criticisms, I finished my bath and changed into fresh clothes.

Returning to the study table, I sat down and savored the refined alcohol, letting its warmth seep through me.

Once the bottle was empty, I finally allowed myself to drift into a well earned sleep.

The next day arrived with much anticipation, as it marked the commencement of the opening ceremony.

As events unfolded according to the plot I had observed, I caught sight of the little sister of the nameless man.

Upon laying eyes on the girl, a peculiar sensation gripped my heart—a feeling of affection, not of a romantic nature.

I just consider it the emotion of the nameless man, whose wish was not fulfilled.

Alongside the affection stirred within me, an indescribable sense of pity welled up for her.

How could I not feel for her? A woman who had endured so much suffering, only to meet her demise at the hands of her own husband.

"Uhh no... She didn't, did she?" I muttered softly.

"What are you blabbering about again?" Asked Raymond

"Never mind."

Both of them cast incredulous looks my way, but soon averted their gaze, returning their attention in front.

But, what was I recalling? There was no mention of how or when she died in the novel.

Up to the part where I read at least, perhaps I had conflated her story with another series.

As I contemplate these banal informations, I found myself inadvertently reading her lips and catching every unsettling declaration she made.

Despite this, I couldn't muster in myself any negative emotions towards her. Indescribably, I still feel pity for her.

She just... looks so pitiful. I couldn't bring myself to despise her.