Chapter 566

I’ve always said that I wasn’t someone quick to anger. With how much shit I give other people, it would be ridiculous if I couldn’t take it

I’ve always said that I wasn’t someone quick to anger.

With how much shit I give other people, it would be ridiculous if I couldn’t take it myself. I can handle being insulted, talked down to, and dismissed. Will I retaliate in equal measure? Sure. But I don’t lose my temper and lash out.

There are very few times when I drop any semblance of politeness and go straight for the proverbial throat.

This is one of those times.

Olga didn’t trip because of her own clumsiness.

I would have to be blind to not see the spell so blatantly cast on her from behind.

Behind, in that it came from the other Train Car that she just walked out of, or even further behind.

Olga quickly got back up, clearly embarrassed and looking like she wanted to hide in a corner. In a private setting, I would have teased her happily. But little Olga was doing her best to put up a brave front and not show any openings in front of other Magi.

And now, that whole act had been shattered.

She was probably around ten years old. She was right around Kunou’s age. She was someone whom I knew—relatively speaking.

She did an admirable job of holding it in, but she was just too young to keep her real emotions from flashing across her face.

Frankly, she looked like she wanted to cry.

But she still held her head high as she walked past, doing her best not to meet anyone’s eyes.

I looked at Venelana, who had a polite smile on her face, and then at Salem, who raised an eyebrow.

I don’t think I needed to say anything outright, and I silently excused myself without making a scene. That is, most in the cabin were still watching Olga rather intently. I nearly stopped when I heard some laughter coming from behind me—people inside this train car were laughing.

Happy thoughts.

I left the train car, moving through the cabin car, as no one was there. And then I made my way back into the original car we entered from, the one with all the seats and also having the bar. 

The lounge car, I started calling it in my head.

And there were not a small number of people present. Particularly, there was the woman in the veil sitting in the same seat she was before, but on the opposite side, so she saw me come in.

I met her gaze, furrowing my brow.

It wasn’t her. Call it instinct, but I don’t think she would do something like that.

But I could already guess who was responsible. 

My eyes turned towards the group of church people sitting together. They silently looked at me as I entered, evaluating me. They were obviously on guard, as to be expected within ‘enemy territory.’

I didn’t see Ciel around either. My first thought was that they don’t particularly get along well. Even among Executors, a lot of what they do is considered ‘sinful.’ They have permission to utilize things like Magecraft in their works, but it’s not any less of a sin in the greater eyes of their people.

A lot of them are very much, I’ll gladly burn in hell for using Magecraft as long as I can take some heretics with me.

That’s why I don’t reveal my Devil Heritage so easily here. Not because I’m scared, but because of the sheer annoyance and inconvenience it would bring. 

How many idiots would try to martyr themselves in an attempt to kill me? Far too many, in my opinion.

I looked over each and every one of them.

I scanned them for any signs of who was responsible. And to my annoyance, I couldn’t immediately point a finger. Should I just hold them all responsible? Frankly, I was a hair’s breath away from doing just that due to their earlier actions.

Oddly, I had a different thought finally pop into my head and turned back to the veiled women.

“Which one was it?” I asked her simply.

There was a tense pause in the cabin. 

I don’t think anyone expected me to just be so blunt about it. It wasn’t hard to guess why I was there at this particular moment. But situations like these are usually handled more delicately. Lots of offhanded insults or vague threats, that sort of thing.

I come in, posture for a bit. They do it back to me, then I can go back and feel like I did something and tell everyone that I ‘handled it’ while they feel like they ‘won.’

Lots of bullshit like that.

The woman stared at me more intently for that moment before she slowly raised her hand and pointed at one of the Church Executors.

He looked almost grandfatherly. Brown hair that was half gray, glasses, and a gentle smile. In another setting, he may have been the very epitome of a priest that would lead a congregation.

I was surprised. Not by his looks or his air of gentleness. I was surprised that the woman actually pointed him out.

Again, strangely, I felt like she wasn’t lying.

Like, I don’t think she would stoop to lying about something so petty. I didn’t know who she was—what she was. But I could tell she wasn’t weak. 

The pride of the strong, I should say. If someone in that weight class was going to scheme, it would be something more grandiose, not pointing me at the wrong person when some idiot thought it was appropriate to smack a child.

But that one gesture was enough to open the floodgates.

I think they realized I was being serious; I wasn’t just throwing my weight around. In that, they knew I wasn’t going to just ‘let it go.’

I saw Black Keys pulled out, sliding out of sleeves. One clenched a bible tightly that glowed ethereally. Another took out an old Western revolver that had holy scripture carved all throughout.

They all had their own means.

“I gave you a choice before. Either behave, or get off the train. Now, I’m making the choice for you.” I told them.

Maybe that was the wrong thing to say, because a couple of them threw Black Keys at me. They were like bullets, and it wasn’t because of magical ability. I vaguely recalled a martial art that emphasized throwing them through steel.

They penetrated the magically reinforced train car like it was made of paper, opening up holes for wind to start whipping around and pushing inside the train car.

I sidestepped as a bullet whizzed past my head, carrying with it the distinct sound of hymns condemning heretics.

A golem made of paper—of literal Scripture—swirled into being, and its fist, carrying much more weight than its paper body would suggest, came at my head.

At a casual glance, I could see it was specifically created around the concept of hellish punishment. That is, if I was ‘caught,’ I would face the presumed punishments of hell invoked through biblical belief.

As interesting as that was, frankly, I was too annoyed to care for now.

With a burst of Shunpo, I moved past all of it, and my hand reached out for the neck of the one who was petty enough to trip a child for a lark.

Credit where it was due, as soon as I reappeared in their perception, I felt blades coming down at me from all angles.

However, my own swords flashed out of my storage, deflecting them away before pressing against their necks while I grabbed the neck of my target.

And just as quickly as it started, it ended, with a tense silence retaking the train car.

My attention drifted to the woman again.

She merely raised a single eyebrow from behind her veil but showed no other emotion.

I don’t know why she continued to prickle my senses like this. I didn’t even sense her being hostile, but something in the back of my mind just did not like her.

Regardless, I had other matters.

I jerked my head to the side to dodge something invisible.

I don’t ’know what it was, but something passed right by me, like an invisible force rippling through the air. 

I then looked down at the struggling Executor in my grasp. I wasn’t squeezing enough to stop him from breathing, but it was most certainly not comfortable. 

One of his eyes, it shimmered slightly. “Oh, so that’s how you did it, a Mystic Eye, huh?” I analyzed it briefly, and based on what he just did, I could make a few guesses. “Some kind of force propulsion, if I’m not mistaken. Perhaps the lowest level of Mystic Eye, but oddly practical.”

Basically, it operated similarly to the first spell in the Hadō series of Kidō that I learned, Shō. Essentially shooting out a ripple of ‘force’ or ‘pressure’ that could be mistaken for air.

Even his glasses weren’t normal glasses. They were a Mystic Code used to amplify his vision, meaning that he can use his Mystic Eyes from a long distance.

Impressive.

Regardless, I squeezed a bit tighter to stop him from doing anything stupid again. He grabbed at my hand, trying to claw at it, but it did no good.

His friends—colleagues—weren’t helping; blades at the throat would make someone think twice.

I walked with him in my hand, all but dragging him across the room. I grabbed the Train Car door; it was locked, but with a frown, I ripped it open. The intense winds invaded the Train Car in earnest now.

The train itself was moving over a hundred miles an hour easily. Maybe even more, but it wasn’t like I was calculating that or anything.

“Off you go.” I casually tossed him out the door before shutting the door and wiping my hands clean.

Don’t know what happened to him, don’t care.

Ciel didn’t make an appearance; the veiled woman didn’t make a move.

I gave them one last look and recalled my swords before walking away.

@***@

Venelana POV

Wilhelm is going to give someone a very stern talking to. I recognized that look to know at this point.

Well, it was deserved, in all honesty.

I may be no Magician, but by his reaction, I’m able to guess that someone did something rather cruel to that poor girl.

Despite not being magically inclined, I wasn’t oblivious to all the subtle political moves happening all around me. A rose by any other name smells just as sweet, and all that. 

Magic or not, I was more than versed in these kinds of maneuvers and situations. The poor dear was doing her absolute best not to make a scene and not to make herself look like a fool to those more than twice her age.

My motherly instincts were acting up.

I just wanted to smother her and tell her that it was okay. 

She scraped her knee too; I noticed it when she got up. It must be stinging right now, but she didn’t want to draw any more attention to herself.

“Oh my~” There was a giggling coming from the corner of the room. “I’ve certainly heard how talented the Lord of the Astrology Department is; I’m happy I could see it firsthand.”

It was that woman from before, the one with the snake.

She shamelessly took a jab at the young girl. 

How droll.

A glance at the young lady, and she flushed in embarrassment and didn’t dare utter a retort.

Salem looked at me silently, but I shook my head. She didn’t need to do anything; I would take care of it. I had a more…gentle touch in these matters.

I walked out from behind the bar, my heels tapping across the ground. People were most assuredly staring at me as I walked across the room.

The same woman from before stopped laughing and looked at me cautiously as I approached. Perhaps even a hint of amusement, like she was happily waiting for a second round to start. I’ve seen her type; she feels confident in whatever position she has.

No doubt, she was anticipating anything I had to say. Mentally forming her responses to regain her momentum from earlier with how thoroughly she was silenced.

It was better that I handled this instead of Salem.

I knew how to do it delicately. I knew how to handle these types without causing problems. How to force their mouths shut in ways that they couldn’t recover from.

Salem would simply tear them apart—not in a metaphorical way.

“Hello, do you need—”

I punched her in the face.

A lot of people have plans and schemes until someone punches them in the face. A lot of people act like getting punched in the face isn’t even a consideration. They’re usually the ones that most need to be on the receiving end.

And it’s oh so easy to pick out amateurishness in social circles. Because the ones who had been doing this for a while, the talented ones, the really scheming and politically savvy people, they all know very well the most important rule.

To know when you can and cannot simply punch someone in the face and get away with it.

It’s honestly all about momentum in these circles. You could just be saying nonsense, but if someone couldn’t get a word in, if they couldn’t immediately retort or point out flaws, you could just drown them in your own momentum.

So the easiest solution was just the most brutish. Don’t even let someone have the chance to speak.

And she most certainly had no response. She clutched her nose that was now bleeding, the shock and confusion evident on her face.

It was plain to see she never once considered the possibility that I would simply walk over and punch her without saying a word.

And that’s why she’s just a child playing small games.

I turned around and walked away from her, not even concerned that she might retaliate.

“Hello, dear, can I sit with you?” I approached the young lady that Wilhelm looked concerned about. 

Despite being around ten years old, the older woman next to her was a servant. Though, the way they sat, it denoted intimacy, a bond, but a servant held a servant’s position, so I addressed the young lady.

Interestingly, the servant sat next to her on the same side of the table. That would be a big no-no socially in most situations. But here, she did her job properly, shielding the young lady from a good portion of eyes by sitting this way.

The girl stiffened immediately, her back straightening like a rod had been shoved up it. “Yes,” she replied, polite, clipped, not quite looking at me.

Permission given, I sat gracefully, folding my hands in my lap and taking a moment to glance over the room—showing her that I wasn’t hovering. That this wasn’t an ambush.

Body language was always important.

Her posture was impeccable. Stiff, but admirable. Chin lifted just so. Hands folded just a little too tight in her lap. She was mimicking an adult’s poise so precisely, it would have been charming if it was handled differently.

So cute.

I let the silence sit for a moment. 

“You’re holding your hands too tight,” I said softly, not unkindly.

She blinked and instinctively loosened her grip, only to frown and squeeze again as if she’d been caught.

I didn’t comment further. It was enough that she noticed.

“I’m Venelana Gremory.” I offered politely.

“…Olga Marie Animusphere,” she said, with all the pride and rigidity of a child taught to say her full name at attention.

How familiar this is. It’s like I was stepping right back into the political theater back home in the Underworld.

She was clearly and meticulously trained since a young age.

“You’re a very brave young lady.” I spoke up.

She blinked, surprised by my words. She didn’t expect me to be…well, I don’t know what word would be appropriate. Sympathetic? She most assuredly saw me punch that other woman; perhaps she was intimidated. 

“P-pardon?”

“You should have seen my son during his debut. Where I’m from, it’s a bit of an old custom. On their tenth birthday, they ‘debut’ for the first time. High society parties, if handled gently for the youngsters. He walks into the room, all attention is on him, and he trips and falls within his first couple steps.”

She twitched slightly.

“He ran to me crying while everyone was watching.” It’s honestly one of my fondest memories. I still tease him about it every now and then.

I put my hand on the table, hiding a Band-Aid as I stealthily pushed it across.

The woman next to Olga here didn’t say a word this entire time. She didn’t interject or introduce herself. I respected her adherence to proper ‘etiquette’ and didn’t ask either, as many servants have their own pride in acting within their station.

However, she gently snatched it from the table with a small but thankful smile.

“And then there’s my daughter.” I continued my stories. “Can you guess what happened on her debut?”

“...did she trip?” Olga asked.

“She stepped on her own dress, fell forward, ripping it.” I explained. “Rather unfortunately, her best friend had convinced her that since it was her ‘debut,’ she should wear…mature undergarments.” 

Olga let out a sound, like an almost laugh, but she quickly pushed it down and blushed, looking away.

“And most recently, there was my grandson. He’s right about your age.” Though I didn’t actually know her exact age, I could more or less guess the approximation. 

Olga’s lips twitched; there was a hint of amusement there, but she was keeping to her strict, stoic, and emotionless demeanor. “Did he also have an…accident?” Her tone held the true interest in my answer.

“Oh no, he thankfully took after his mother.” I laughed lightly. Thankfully, he inherited enough of Grayfia there and handled himself quite well. “His father, on the other hand…well, the moment his son entered the room, he quickly went to go meet up with him, but he ran into a server, fell over, pulled the tablecloth off a nearby table, and a big cake fell on top of him.”

Olga stared at me incredulously, like she couldn’t believe that string of events.

“He then went crying to his wife.” I smiled warmly. “And do you know the most amusing part of this entire fiasco?”

“...what?” She asked quietly.

“No one dared say a word about it because of who my son is.” I leaned in and whispered. “Because, dear, embarrassing moments are fleeting; people forget about them. But you as a person are what they’ll always be forced to see.”

Compared to an embarrassing moment or two, what was that when placed next to destruction incarnate?

Her servant stealthily applied the bandaid, presumably on the knee of Olga, without drawing too much attention to her actions. It was hidden enough under her long skirt, so it wasn’t too bad.

I was about to say something else, but all of us turned to look out the window.

As if in slow motion, we all saw someone fly past the windows. Well, not so much fly but…fall? Fall vertically as the train passed by, like someone had jumped out.

He was most certainly one of those church people from before.

A moment later, the door to the train car opened, and Wilhelm came strolling in like nothing happened.

He looked around as everyone stared at him.

I waved him over with a smile.

“This is Wilhelm, my lover.” I set the ground for introductions and gave Wilhelm the proper opening to sit down.

Little Olga here seemed to stiffen. Perhaps I underestimate the position that Wilhelm holds in the hearts of people around here. I confess, I don’t know all the small details of his status, as many things are still foreign to me.

“O-of course!” Olga quickly accepted the implied request for him to join us. “I’m Olga—”

“Olga Marie Animusphere.” Wilhelm interrupted her introduction. Which, normally, would be socially rude, but he did it intentionally here.

He has such a wonderfully meticulous personality when it comes to caring for other people, despite all the self-deprecating words he says about his selfishness. 

By interrupting her introduction and saying her name outright, he’s explicitly stating that he knows who she is. And since Wilhelm has a certain status, that holds meaning.

“How could I not know the little genius of the Animusphere family?” He added with a smile, “Wilhelm Henry Schweinorg, at your service.” He finished with his own introduction.

Olga was flustered. It seemed like the earlier embarrassment was now gone. She was preening, her pride all but pushing to the surface. The joy all but threatening to spill out at any moment.

“I’ve of course heard of the Grandson of the Kaleidoscope.” Olga returned, doing her best to resume her role, her previous status without any of the earlier embarrassment weighing her down.

“Handling the role of Lord of the Astrology Department at your age, you certainly have worked hard.” Wilhelm was ever so gentle with his tone.

Olga puffed her chest up. “As the head of the Animusphere family, it’s my duty!” She said proudly.

Wilhelm was being…vocal, not loud, but it was enough that everyone in the train car could hear. Intentionally, on his end as well. 

He was wanting everyone to know his relationship with her and not to cause her any problems.

Such a sweet boy.

“I heard there’s something you want to discuss, Lady Animusphere.” Wilhelm continued. “Would you like to begin?”

She flushed again, clearly not used to being treated with such…respect.

Poor thing.

“Y-yes!” Olga nodded her head. “And Lord El-Melloi II is here.” He looked over in Mr. Waver Velvet’s direction.

“Lady Animusphere.” Waver said more curtly, but with the polite neutrality that one would expect. 

Olga took a breath and steeled herself. “I’ve called you all here to discuss plans to prevent the Church from acquiring the supposed Mystic Eyes of Providence. Along with other…key items that may appear. Their presence and attitude thus far are unacceptable, and I hope we can all work together to at least push them out before settling things among ourselves.”

She went silent, waiting for others to speak.

“Well….” A lot of eyes were on Wilhelm, deferring to him. “I can’t say I’m particularly fond of the church, so any reason to annoy them, I find it hard to pass up. At the very least, I can say I won’t let them get their way.”

Olga’s eyes lit up as if she just achieved her goal.

“The finances of the Mineralogy department are… strictly controlled as of now. I cannot promise any financial support towards any goal.” Waver gave a polite refusal, with a very acceptable reason. “However, I do not reject potential cooperation in other regards.”

Hmm, nobody else was speaking.

There were about a dozen more people not associated with this group here sitting around. I suppose the lack of words in this regard could be an assumption of acceptance.

It appears that Wilhelm, Olga, and Waver here hold the highest positions, so everyone is just following along.

“Good! With two Lords and a Magician, would they dare to try anything?” Olga said pridefully. “Should we discuss the distribution of products after the fact?”

Wilhelm held up a hand. “As I told Waver earlier, let the auction settle those types of things. I don’t particularly enjoy throwing my weight around because I was outbid.”

“I-I see.” Olga furrowed her little brow.

The door to the train car opened again. The Auctioneer – the woman wearing the blind fold – walked in.

“Good evening, everyone. I’m here to inform you all that we’ll be making one of our scheduled stops in about thirty minutes. If you want some fresh air, you’re welcome to deboard; we’ll be sitting still for about two hours while the train charges on the Leyline.”

Oh, how lovely! I wonder if we could have a picnic?

She turned to Wilhelm. “Mr. Schweinorg, please keep in mind that any damage to the train will require compensation.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Damage?” Olga whispered under her breath, confused as to what that meant.

However, I think most of us here put two and two together based on the person we saw flying past the windows.

Wilhelm, without a word, flicked a gold coin to her. She caught it effortlessly and stuck it in her pocket before leaving.

He then turned to Olga with a big smile on his face. “Would you like to join us in getting some fresh air, Lady Olga?” He intentionally switched to her first name to be more familiar. “I was thinking about letting my familiar out for a bit. You remember him, right, the little rabbit you saw before?”

Her eyes widened, and her expression said it all.

She just absentmindedly nodded, showing a hint of the cute childishness she should have at that age.

I swear, that rabbit of his is magical in more ways than one.

@***@

A/N

Smolga enters the mothering range of Venelana.