Count’s Youngest Son is a Warlock

Slap!

“How insolent!”

“Your Highness.”

Carson hesitated for a moment as he saw Hume being slapped but managed to control his anger.

If Lucion saw this, he’d be furious.

“Carson Cronia meets the little sun.”

“Ah, Lord Carson, I’m showing my ugly side.”

Owen chuckled and looked at Carson.

Hume, who had been slapped, sighed, not at his own cheek, but at the cart of food he had placed behind him.

“Why should I? Can’t you see I’m trying to discipline this brat?”

“He is a valued servant to me.”

“Ah, then I apologize.”

Owen finally showed signs of stepping back and smiled at Carson.

“I didn’t expect Cronia to have trouble instructing a servant properly. I was rude anyway.”

Despite his words, Owen removed the gloves he used to slap Hume and extended his hands to the servant who stood beside him, receiving a fresh pair of gloves.

Maintaining his composure, Carson asked, “Your Highness, what brings you here so unexpectedly? If you had informed me beforehand, I would have greeted you properly.”

“I’ve come to meet the saint.”

“We are scheduled to depart for Cronia today, so I won’t be able to attend to you as I would like.”

I’m busy today, so leave now.

Carson gathered his patience, choosing his words carefully, mindful of the prince he was addressing.

“That’s understandable. Even a brief visit is appreciated. I simply happened to pass by.”

Owen proceeded in the direction Carson had come from.

“I simply want to have tea time with the saint. I regret missing the saint at the birth anniversary celebration due to His Majesty’s presence. Isn’t this a fortunate encounter?”

“Your Highness.”

“Oh, I didn’t arrive empty-handed. Uncertain of his preferences, I brought the finest tea, desserts, and even garments and jewelry that I thought would suit the saint impeccably.”

Carson tightened his grip. 

Clothing and jewels? 

Knowing what Cronia was like, Owen’s choice of gifts was a blatant indication that he intended to gawk at Lucion like he was some kind of animal.

“Your Highness, I will not tolerate any more disrespect.”

“Did you just call me disrespectful, Lord Carson?”

Owen’s lips curled into a smirk, exuding an air of arrogance, as if he knew precisely what to say next.

“I do not recall extending an invitation to you, Your Highness. Am I mistaken?”

“No, indeed. Invitations are not your style, are they?”

“Clothes and jewelry? They are not needed. Cronia has plenty.”

“Ah, it appears there has been a misunderstanding of my intentions. Would I dare show such disrespect to anyone, particularly the saint? These are merely gifts.”

“Perhaps you should come again another time, Your Highness.” Carson spoke firmly.

“Why should I heed your words?” Owen’s gaze narrowed.

“This is Cronia’s mansion, and I am a Cronian,” Carson added with a smile. 

“Your Highness.”

Owen’s servant called out to him as he stopped in front of the dining room where Lucion was.

Owen glanced towards the dining room.

“I was just joking, Lord Carson. I didn’t realize you would take it so seriously.”

“I am not joking, Your Highness. It’s time for you to leave.”

Carson raised his voice slightly, attempting to hold Owen’s attention.

Owen frowned.

“Lord Carson…?”

“I will no longer turn a blind eye to rudeness. While you may be a prince, Cronia is not a house that can be insulted to this extent.”

“And what do you intend to do?”

“I can do nothing other than escort the disrespectful guest out.”

Carson stood his ground.

There were other princes apart from the Fourth Prince.

The most likely candidate at the moment was the Fifth Prince, Cetyl. 

With Owen already losing power, his antics here would do him no good.

Carson had no idea what purpose Owen had in coming all the way here to see Lucion, but his irritation was mixed with an odd sense of unease that made his heart race.

He had to send him away.

“Are you forgetting my status as a prince?”

Owen let out a hollow laugh.

“Are you forgetting that this is Cronia’s mansion, Your Highness?”

Under Carson’s stern gaze and clear warning, Owen hesitated momentarily.

How could he be unaware of Cronia’s significance?

Even the Emperor was cautious around that family.

“Open the door.” But Owen commanded.

In some way, he had to meet the saint.

Carson tried to intercept Owen’s servant as they reached for the door, but Owen pushed it open himself.

Bang.

As the door swung open, Lucion naturally saw the red thread connecting Owen and himself.

Because his fate, which was intertwined with the Empire, and Owen, who had everything revealed to the Emperor and Ketlan, were separate.

While chewing the meat in his mouth, Lucion’s gaze met Owen’s.

‘That guy… Seeing him in person, he really seems like a bastard.’

For someone like him to dare touch Hume with those filthy hands was infuriating.

—Ugh! I don’t like that guy! You know how much Ratta cares for Hume!

Ratta growled at the sight of Owen.

Gulp.

Lucion swallowed the food in his mouth and elegantly wiped his lips with a napkin.

Turning towards Carson, he rose slowly, a smile playing on his lips.

“Has a guest arrived, brother?”

With a natural smile that suggested he didn’t know someone like the Fourth Prince, he smoothly engaged in conversation.

“Who might you be?”

Carson turned his head slightly, as if he might burst out laughing at the question.

[Wow. Your acting is getting more impressive, Lucion.]

Russell applauded genuinely.

“Do you not know who I am?”

The person most caught off guard was Owen. His face flushed with embarrassment.

“Yes. Isn’t that the reason I asked who you are?”

After all, he had been confined to his own little world.

How was he to know who was who?

“This person is…”

“Shut your mouth. I wasn’t asking you.”

Lucion cast a sharp glare at Owen’s servant, who had spoken out of turn.

“What impudence prompts you to speak before your master? How disrespectful.”

He returned the very same treatment Owen had given to Hume.

Owen flinched at the rebuke, his expression darkening.

“Are you mocking me right now?”

“Please wait a moment. Who exactly are you to speak so boldly to me out of the blue? Even among nobles, let alone royal etiquette, such behavior is not acceptable.”

Lucion used his ignorance as a defense to criticize Owen.

Horribly ignorant.

“I am Owen Tesla!” A vein throbbed in Owen’s neck.

“My apologies, Your Highness. Please excuse my lack of manners. I have been rather sheltered and hence failed to recognize a prince of your stature,” Lucion said, offering a slight bow.

Upon lifting his head, he nodded politely at Owen.

“Then I shall take my leave.”

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m heading to my room.”

“I came here to see you.”

“Me? But Your Highness, this is our first meeting—did you schedule an appointment? I have no recollection of such an arrangement.”

With a natural expression, Lucion left Carson to wonder whether he was deliberately trying to toy with Owen or if he genuinely didn’t know.

Carson was now looking for an opportunity to intervene and stop Lucion.

“No, I just stopped by on my way.”

“Your Highness, that is terribly rude,” Lucion criticized Owen’s behavior directly.

Owen’s eyes widened in disbelief.

Regardless of what was happening, Lucion continued to speak with enthusiasm.

“This is not a place for casual visits. Moreover, you arrived without prior notice. Even the Emperor arranges meetings with my father. I did not anticipate Your Highness treating me with such disregard.”

Lucion intentionally mentioned Ketlan, fully aware of Owen’s character.

It was obvious that someone like Owen would try to suppress him by waving around his status as a prince.

“Is this not His Highness tarnishing my honor? I merely meant that anyone, even a common shopkeeper, can come and meet me. I regret to say, but I would appreciate it if you leave now.”

Lucion didn’t give Owen a chance to respond, casually gesturing toward the door.

“Are you disrespecting me right now?” Owen’s face flushed red as his voice grew louder.

‘Ha. This is just what I expected. He’s the kind of guy who can easily be played by Neubra; just a bit of flattery and he’ll be like a puppy.’

Lucion clicked his tongue inwardly.

No matter how high his status as a prince, it didn’t surpass that of the Emperor.

“No, it is you who is showing disrespect. If you haven’t arranged an appointment, does that mean you’re also disrespecting the Emperor?”

“What… what did you say?”

“This behavior is unacceptable. You owe me an apology for the rudeness you’ve displayed.”

Lucion was feeling bold. It was clear to him that Carson was gearing up to pull Owen away.

[What the heck is he doing here?]

Russell looked at Owen with a perplexed expression, as if to say that it seemed like he had come here just to provoke Lucion.

[The prince is here, and not only are the servants lacking, but the escorts as well. It’s almost as if he’s setting up his escape route. As you mentioned, Russell, status is crucial in clear-cut situations.]

[Indeed. I don’t know his intentions, but the blame will likely fall on Owen’s servant. His influence is unmistakable.]

Russell folded his arms.

A situation that was so obvious sometimes turned into a situation that was good for avoiding suspicion.

Recalling Owen’s mention of ‘the finest tea and desserts,’ Russell began to voice his thoughts.

[…I suspect it’s poison.]

[Poison…?]

Bethel was startled, but soon realized what Russell was trying to say.

[Are you suggesting it’s not just any poison, but a poison crafted by a poison mage?]

Poison mages were magicians who transformed the mana within them into poisonous substances for their use.

Currently, the practice of becoming a poison mage had been banned due to its malevolent nature, and knowledge of such mages had dwindled to mere stories of the past.

[Precisely. Poison from a poison mage possesses magical properties, making it undetectable by conventional means like regular poisons. To identify it, one would need to use mana to neutralize it as if using fire magic, a skill few possess.]

‘As expected of you, Teacher.’

While Lucion himself knew about poison mages from the novels he had read, Russell’s knowledge stemmed from his direct experience, making it even more impressive.

The fact that the king of Myronist had fallen victim to the poison of a poison mage was partly due to the scarcity of such mages today, but also because people lacked the means to detect or counteract such magical poisons.

“I… hope you can forgive my rudeness.”

After a long moment of contemplation, Owen finally gritted his teeth and bowed his head towards Lucion.

‘My teacher’s deductions were correct. Without that, there would be no reason for him to set aside his pride to visit me like this.’

Lucion struggled to suppress his laugh. It was indeed amusing, yet utterly absurd.

Whatever orders Owen had received back in the Neubra Kingdom likely involved eliminating him in some way.

It was truly disgusting to see an imperial prince acting like a pawn for an enemy country.

“Certainly. Your apology puts my mind at ease,” Lucion replied with a smile.

What could Owen possibly do next? Strike him? That would contradict the very apology he had just offered, and Lucion was confident he wouldn’t take that chance.

‘If he’s using poison… let’s see.’

Lucion’s eyes gleamed for a moment, then faded.

‘No one would be foolish enough to use a poison that shows immediate symptoms. Besides, since it’s magical rather than conventional poison, he would certainly be able to control its effects.’

Owen clearly told Carson that he ‘stopped by on the way’.

It was as if he had already put together all the alibis.

The reason there aren’t many servants and escorts was likely part of that alibi.

The fewer people involved, the fewer mouths there were to keep shut.

[The Neubra Kingdom must be in quite a hurry, for the prince himself to get involved. After all, Lucion, you’ve inadvertently ruined all their plans.]

The expression on Russell’s face shifted quickly from amusement to a sense of pride.

[You’re correct, Russell. Furthermore, now that Twilo, who played a pivotal role, has been apprehended, the prince remains the only one who can take action.]

Bethel spoke while giving Owen a piercing glare.

The fact that Twilo, a mere marquis, had been captured was telling. 

Perhaps Owen concluded that it was safer for the prince to be directly involved rather than unnecessary nobles stepping forward.

“So, what brings you here so quietly, Your Highness?” Lucion inquired, taking charge of the conversation as if to show that he had the upper hand.

Despite Owen smiling, the twitch of his eyebrows revealed how angry he was.

“I simply wished to have a conversation with you.”

“If you had arranged an appointment, it would have been more suitable for Your Highness to be formally welcomed upon arrival.”

With a hint of regret, Lucion mentally reprimanded Owen. Despite the lack of an appointment, Owen visibly flinched at the mention of his impoliteness.

‘Ah, this is quite entertaining.’

Lucion felt like he was on the verge of bursting into laughter.

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