Chapter 40

# 40

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Nabia knew all too well what that look meant.

It was the unique gaze of someone who held the power of life and death.

'Did the negotiation fail?'

Nabia bit her lip and cautiously made contact, pretending to avoid his touch.

It was to absorb the other's magic power with the power of the Black Moon and secure at least enough strength to defend herself.

But the Black Moon was silent.

Lark's eyes flashed.

"What was that just now?"

Nabia's face turned pale.

'What is it? Why is there no change?'

This person is clearly a mage, right?

"You."

As Lark approached, it seemed as if he might twist Nabia's neck.

"I'll cut it all off."

Though she was trying to appear calm, her voice was trembling.

"I'll cut off all my hair. I'll dye it too."

If it would help her achieve her goal, her hair was of no importance.

It was only grown long to her thighs in the orphanage to make her more valuable.

Nabia immediately fell to the floor and pleaded to Lark.

The nobles liked this.

The more humble she was, the more satisfied they were.

Nabia knew this from countless experiences.

There was no hesitation in being humble.

Shame?

Humiliation?

Embarrassment?

Such things were of no help in preserving her life.

"I won't be a bother. I'll fix anything that needs to be fixed."

How did I get this opportunity?

How did I come this far?

She had to survive.

If she lived, she could find another way.

Nabia said desperately,

"I can do anything. I’m sure I’m useful...!"

At that moment, a voice she had heard countless times before pierced her ears.

"You can’t do anything right. That’s what being of low birth means. Tsk!"

Her lips closed involuntarily.

Her throat tightened, and she couldn't speak.

Nabia's gaze slowly fell to the floor. Silence filled the corridor.

"..."

'Is it the limit of my birth again?'

She had never lived a life where she was welcomed.

No matter how much she proved her usefulness, she had never been respected.

It was only natural.

Because she wasn't human.

She was a tool.

But if she was a useful tool, wouldn't he at least consider working with her once?

However, Lark said no with a cold, disdainful look.

Her hair, her silver eyes.

'So, what do I need to do to survive?'

Is there no choice but to die, like in her previous eight lives?

Lark thought that the child would either cry or tremble, as usual, and coldly announced,

"I’ll spare your life, so get out."

And he turned away.

"Sir, you’ll regret it."

Her voice was low.

It was dry, as if her soul had left her body.

With that voice, she spoke of regret.

Lark turned back to Nabia.

Nabia was still looking at the floor.

But she didn't seem as desperate as before.

As he frowned, Nabia stared at Lark's shoes, which had caught her gaze.

She had never seen Lark Esselred before.

She had no information about him.

But something caught Nabia's sharp senses.

As she began to focus, her face gradually lost all expression.

She lifted her head and met Lark's gaze directly.

"Are you here to protect this place, Duke?"

Lark's expression became chillingly cold, far more so than before.

Nabia's red eyes shone even more sharply.

This person's weakness was the Duke's mansion itself, she was certain.

Despite his apparent lack of interest in worldly affairs, the fact that he had never left this place was evidence of his attachment.

Lark was exceptional.

Even without checking, he intuitively felt how extraordinary his abilities were.

He was a person with no lack of appearance, magical ability, or status.

From the fact that he had never left the Duke's mansion and yet remained in such good condition, she read a lot of information.

"I have already informed the powerful people that Esselred can be attacked. Agnes and the royal family, in their power struggle, have turned their attention to this place. I know how arrogant and persistent they are."

"Shut up."

"Duke, you must listen to me. This problem has grown beyond what can be solved by getting rid of me. They will relentlessly target Esselred like a pack of wolves, and more people like me will come here."

"Did you not hear me tell you to shut up?"

Nabia, undaunted by Lark's menacing aura, continued.

"If someone else comes here instead of me, there will be no room for such negotiations."

They would come here without breaking free from their brainwashing.

"If you let me go, you will regret it."

Definitely.

Nabia threatened Lark like a fiercely cornered kitten, her claws bared.

Silence fell between them for a moment.

But a tense atmosphere hung between them, and a fierce battle of nerves was taking place.

Lark was genuinely bewildered.

And genuinely angry.

It wasn't because he was annoyed or irritated as usual.

He was hit where it hurt.

The anger at being seen through by that small child.

It was absurd.

It wasn't even funny.

For such a trivial life, which would crumble to dust at the touch of his finger, to shock him.

Lark spat out the words.

"You don’t seem to value your life."

Nabia retorted without backing down.

"I’m threatening you because I value my life."

"......Ha."

Nabia was small and weak, and seemed like she would wobble at the slightest touch.

Yet, despite trembling, she was staring at him with eyes that shone with determination.

'Annoying.'

Even her silver hair, which emitted a pure, clear light unlike his own.

And her brilliant resolve, fueled by the will to live.

All of it was annoying.

'If I just get rid of it right in front of me, that’s it.'

As Lark reached out his hand to the child,

Rumble!

Nabia, with a flustered expression, hastily clutched her stomach.

'Why now!'

Her face, and even her neck, were flushed with embarrassment.

She had drunk a lot of water, but that wouldn't make her stomach full.

Lark's hand stopped involuntarily.

The silver hair, spread out on the black floor like spreading flames, stabbed at his vision.

His mansion was dark.

In that darkness, Nabia was shining alone.

Like a white flame.

It reminded him of someone.

"......"

Flick!

As Lark raised his finger, Nabia, who had been kneeling on the floor, was suddenly lifted.

Something soft had lifted her.

"One year."

Confused, Nabia looked at Lark.

Lark continued indifferently.

"......Get out by then."

Huh?

"What do you mean...?"

Nabia asked in a dazed voice.

"Does that mean I can stay here until then?"

Lark, taken aback by the direct question, briefly closed his lips.

Then, with a sound like a scoff, he said,

"Do as you please."

Snap!

He flicked his finger, and his figure disappeared.