FANSiA Originals and KakaoPage
I Became the Genius Bastard of a Noble Dark Clan
[Author/Original: Yuin]
[TL: Dekor]
[PR: Spades]
Episode 41
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Following Ashd, the other lords and ladies passed Chris.
A beautiful woman with crystal-clear features.
A cold-faced girl.
A rough-looking boy.
Likely the First Lady, Second Lady, and Third Lord, they showed no interest in Chris.
Not even a glance.
Not ignoring him.
Just indifferent.
They were on a different level.
Chris was too beneath them to warrant attention.
As the four took their seats at the head, the banquet resumed.
The focus on Chris vanished.
Everyone scrambled to get a word with the lords and ladies.
'Time to head out.'
His goal was to scope them out, so no need to linger.
'Shame I didn't see the First Lord.'
Surprisingly, Chris wasn't the clan's most notorious disgrace.
That was First Lord Sherad.
Known as a madman.
Yet Chris felt oddly curious about him.
'Lots to watch. Ashd, First Lady Yurian…'
He glanced at Yurian.
Surrounded by people.
Dark hair, crimson eyes, typical of the clan.
But softer than others.
Her smile to the crowd was warm.
Clear, comforting.
That made Chris warier.
What claws hid behind that smile?
He smirked.
'One by one, slowly.'
Ashd, the unseen First Lord, Yurian.
All would kneel before him eventually.
As he turned to leave, an unexpected shout rang out.
"Greetings. I'm Prue, a summoner serving Young Master Roin. On this Black Sanctification eve, I have a proposal! Before the ritual begins, we should verify the participants' qualifications!"
The crowd murmured.
"What's that mean?"
Ashd's question prompted a bowed reply.
"Regrettably, I've heard someone unqualified plans to attend. If such a person participates, they could be gravely injured or cause issues. Verifying qualifications tonight could prevent mishaps."
All eyes turned to Chris.
Among the participants, only Christian could be deemed 'unqualified.'
'Well, look at this.'
Chris crossed his arms, smirking.
Obviously not the summoner's solo act.
The mastermind was clear.
'Roin.'
The lord destined to be Chris's first victim.
Roin glared at him, smugly triumphant.
'Was gonna leave quietly.'
Chris downed the last of his ginger ale.
Might as well say hello.
"This is merely to ensure the safety of an unqualified participant—"
"Noisy."
"…What?"
"Wanna fight? Stop yapping and show your tricks."
Chris beckoned with a finger.
"I'll play along."
The summoner's face reddened.
"Face my summoned wraith."
A summoner.
One who commands dark entities.
A hum.
Viscous dark energy flowed from the summoner's hand, and a sinister wraith appeared.
A 2-demon-grade specter.
"It might be tough for Young Master Christian's level. Still, to join the Black Sanctification, this much—"
"Argh?!"
The summoner couldn't finish.
The wraith turned and attacked him.
"Why? Gah! You?! Help, someone?!"
The banquet hall gaped at the scene.
'Why?'
Higher-realm mages discerned what happened.
'Lost control?'
'No, not that. Different.'
Lost control meant a wraith attacking mindlessly.
This one targeted only its summoner.
'Could it be?'
'Not lost control, but…?'
A mocking voice cut through.
"Who's worrying about who?"
Chris flicked his finger, and the wraith, having knocked out the summoner, floated to him.
It knelt.
As if revering its master.
"Pathetic, losing your own wraith to someone else."
The crowd was stunned.
'Impossible!'
'Taking control of another's wraith?!'
Interfering with another's summon was insanely hard.
Summoner and wraith were bound by a dark magic 'contract.'
Breaking it required vastly superior skill, and even then, only dispelling was feasible—not seizing control.
Yet Chris had done it with a finger snap.
'If you're gonna act cocky, at least have skill. Such a sloppy contract with a wraith? No wonder you'd get scammed by one later.'
He'd exploited a flaw in the summoner-wraith contract.
A jab, but an absurd feat.
Reading a contract's structure from mana flow and pinpointing its weakness was something only Chris could do.
Amid stunned gazes, he shrugged and faced the true instigator, Roin.
"This was your idea, Young Master Roin? Unworthy of the clan's main line."
"!!"
"Why not challenge me directly?"
Roin's face flushed.
"This has nothing to do with me."
"Really?"
Chris sneered exaggeratedly.
What obvious denial? His expression said.
"No one'd believe that lie, but fine. I'll pretend to."
Roin's face looked ready to burst.
He growled.
"…Tomorrow, at the Black Sanctification, be ready."
"Funny, I was gonna say the same. You'd better brace yourself too."
"!!"
Chris lowered his voice.
"I'm getting a bit annoyed."
He'd planned to crush Roin at the ritual.
Now, he'd adjusted.
Not just crush—utterly demolish.
Tomorrow, Roin would deeply regret his arrogance.
---
The Black Sanctification dawned.
Chris headed to the main hall.
Inside, other participants waited.
A familiar face.
"Little brother?"
"Who's your brother?! I'm two years older!"
Alos snapped.
Chris shrugged.
"Why're you here? I said to skip it."
"…Nonsense. How do you skip the Black Sanctification?"
Alos frowned.
But inwardly, he regretted it.
'Damn, should've delayed. How do I compete with him? No chance.'
Too late.
Sighing, he asked cautiously.
"You okay?"
"With what?"
"You clashed with Roin yesterday. He won't let you off…"
"Little brother."
Chris smiled.
"Worrying about the wrong guy?"
"!!"
Alos shivered.
He noticed Chris seemed… stronger.
Not a mistake.
His aura was subtly different.
'Impossible. Stronger in less than a month?'
Footsteps echoed from the hall's stairs.
Roin.
"…"
From above, he glared down at Chris.
Arrogant, like eyeing a lesser being.
Chris met his gaze calmly.
No need for words.
The ritual would bring a 'sincere conversation.' With fists.
"All here? I'm Sebastian, deputy steward of the main hall."
A figure half an adult's size.
A halfling.
Oddly, he wore a conical hat like a storybook wizard.
"I'll guide you to the sanctum for the Black Sanctification. Follow me."
Eight participants total.
One main line: Roin.
Three branch houses—Kazar, Tyramine, Schufen: Chris and Alos.
The rest were scattered minor branch kin.
The steward pulled out a toy-like wand and tapped the floor.
A path downward appeared from the ordinary floor!
An illusion.
"I'll go first. Follow."
The halfling descended.
Peering down, it wasn't a normal basement.
An endless path stretched through a vast, empty space.
'An illusion creating a virtual space? Not the halfling's doing—likely a pre-installed mechanism under the manor.'
Chris grasped the stairs' nature.
Likely no easy path.
The first real test.
Fail, and you'd lose your shot at the ritual.
Others, catching on, tensed.
Roin stepped forward first.
As main line, he'd naturally lead over branches, his stride bold.
Passing Chris, he muttered.
"Don't fall behind. I'll show you hell at the ritual."
With that, he entered the stairs.
Others, steeling themselves, followed.
The first test began.
Trailing the steward, Chris thought.
'Piece of cake.'
A simple test.
Just follow the steward.
But unlike normal running… the path sloped chaotically.
It demanded stamina like climbing a rugged mountain.
The steward moved at an absurd, horse-like speed.
Oh, and one more thing.
The path's rear collapsed rapidly.
Fail to keep pace, and you'd fall behind.
"Gasp, huff."
"How long?"
Two minor branch kin, the weakest, panted.
Their pace slowed, and the collapsing path caught them.