5 – Magic Uproar. (1)

The recent period was almost over. A month really did pass by so quickly.

I had been worried about ‘how I can follow the original story without damaging it as much as possible’ and the time seemed to pass even faster.

The fortunate thing was that, as planned, I was able to gain the upper hand in my relationship with Astaroth.

It was a huge achievement to turn him not into my servant, but to turn him into my servant.

No matter how flimsy, the reason Astaroth and Praga could have become the final boss of Chapter 3 was all because her power was overwhelming.

Being a high-level devil means that she had the power to destroy a nation’s capital in an instant just by existing.

Now that such a force is on my side, I probably won’t die over trivial matters. The problem is that the time when Astaroth’s power doesn’t work comes sooner than expected… I have to act with that in mind.

Anyway, it’s a headache in many ways. Just because I got the upper hand with Astaroth, the flow of this novel could change.

I know that even my small actions can cause significant variables in the future. I will follow the flow of the original novel as much as possible… but I need to know how to deal with it when that variable occurs.

My purpose is purely ‘survival’. I can do anything to survive. It was outrageous to fall into a novel I wrote, I couldn’t just die in vain.

And in order for me to survive, I must grow the main character Ruslan, the main heroine Aris, and the people around Ruslan.

There were no substitutes, no hidden pieces or chances to rely on.

Understanding the true name of Astaroth gave me the power to decide her life or death, which meant the framework of the novel I had set up was compact.

That is, the protagonist, who needs to grow through talent and experience, remains the same, so my task was simple.

To put Ruslan and Aris in trouble, but not to the point of death.

I had vaguely contemplated the rough plan as I was writing the novel, so it should be okay… right?

I felt a vague sense of unease, but I shook my head. There was no time to think about it up to that point. A long time had already passed since I wrote this novel, and just remembering this much was a blessing.

I am only left with the option of sticking with the original plan.

The most significant problem at the moment is how to explain the situation to Frah’s father, Edmund Lancell.

It was a headache because he was just a simple villain, and I had not described nor thought of his perspective.

I vaguely remember that at that time, Frah, the Duke of Edmund Lancell, screwed up… something like that.

Frah did something thoughtless and made the family reputation plummet, so financial support to Frah was significantly reduced.

What was ridiculous was that despite that, Frah had been diligently saving a large sum of money. He used that money to torment Aris and Ruslan vigorously.

For now… Then yes. At least be careful not to get hit on the head with a flowerpot.

* * *

“Do you know what you’ve done?”

His question was cold. He didn’t yell, he didn’t throw anything.

This is what Edmund Lancel, the head of a prominent family in the empire and now my father, said as soon as he saw me.

The office must have been at an optimal temperature, although it felt as cold as midwinter.

Beyond merely making my spine cold, it felt like a cold wave crashed in the space.

Am I insane? Should I deny in front of such a person, or mention there was a plan… Do I need to blurt out something like that?

It seemed that was indeed not the case. She could only let it pass.

“……Yes.”

“There must have been something I strongly emphasized. Frah.”

“Yes, indeed.”

What Edmund Lanceley emphasized was, without a doubt, to prioritize the honor of the family above all else.

The individual is not important. The Lanceley family has always been built by people who would sacrifice themselves for the honor of the family.

How did Frah respond then? I don’t remember describing this part in detail.

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Being able to recall the scene where she rushed to Aris and threatened her, even though it was from a decade ago, was because it was from the early parts that she had pondered over countless times… but now, she’s not sure how she should respond.

This part was not that important, she merely mentioned that Frah was scolded by Edmund Lanceley and moved on. Hence, she could only feel more frustrated.

Thinking that she could just give a brief answer is a thoughtless assumption. Any word mentioned here could have an unpredictable aftermath.

However, she didn’t plan to spill nonsense. After all, Edmund Lanceley surprisingly gave her family several chances. Especially since Frah was a frequent source of Edward’s pride, he would let this mistake pass with just a reproof.

There’s no need to be pointlessly reprimanded again. From the early part of the novel, Lanceley’s support was continually passed onto Frah.

So first… an apology should precede all else.

“I have disgraced myself. I was consumed by the heat of the moment.”

Frah basically respected her father greatly, so she did not behave disrespectfully. She had allowed her emotions towards Aris to darken, but was not fundamentally a detached person.

“A moment of emotion, huh. Did you really love Aris Winslet that much?”

“Yes, indeed.”

“I see. Certainly, it did show. But didn’t I constantly say this? Love is good, but you should not be swept away by your emotions.”

“…… I remember.”

“It’s more than a mere mistake, it’s quite a heinous crime. What would have compromised our honor if done to a commoner attending the academy, you did to a noble lady from the distinguished Winslet family.”

“I am aware.”

“What do you plan to do?”

What to do. I’ve already thought about that question. As much as possible, I won’t interact with Aris Winslet and will continue to harass her.

…It’s a really despicable idea, but there’s no other way. We had to do this to survive.

“It won’t be good to stir things up without reason. I just plan to stay away from Aris. Even the act of apologizing to her will be a significant wound for that child.”

Originally, even showing myself in front of her to apologize — when I even said it was all just friendly teasing — was a contradictory attitude. Therefore, this is the only choice I can make.

“That’s good. You thought well. Don’t bring up this issue anymore. However, I must sentence you for your excessive behavior. Don’t you have something to say to Ithan Winslet, the master of Winslet?”

“I will accept it graciously.”

“I hope this will be the last time I have to punish you. Even though you’re my only son and sole heir, I can’t entrust Lancel to a guy who consistently makes mistakes. This is the first time, so let’s overlook it.”

“I will remember that.”

“The punishment I give you is flogging.”

“…Flogging, you say?”

“That’s right. At least, I must give you a severe punishment so they won’t say anything. As it’s the first time, I need to discipline you strictly. That’s the only way you won’t repeat this mistake.”

“That, that’s true.”

Then I suddenly remembered something. That’s right. I had forgotten about this.

It didn’t end with simple scolding. Flogging. Yes, Praha will certainly receive the family’s punishment.

Suddenly, everything in front of me became hazy. The flogging, the lash against Praha’s trained body, will be excruciating.

This is a disaster.

However, I couldn’t even object.

It is Lancel’s long-standing tradition to give fitting punishment to a family member who has committed a wrongdoing for the honor of the family. It is because of this tradition that we are in our current position.

If I were to throw a tantrum, saying I won’t take punishment, my position as the heir would be in jeopardy. The followers of Lancel wouldn’t follow an irresponsible person.

In the end, I had no choice but to humbly accept my punishment.

* * *

My father, Edmund Lancel’s action was incredibly swift.

He immediately delivered an apology for the heir’s error to the Winslet family, and even sent an official document stating that I would be flogged.

People from the Winslet family were enraged by my action, but due to my father’s amazing persuasions, they didn’t demand to hang me right away.

When they heard that I was being flogged, they said they had to see for themselves… and, so, in front of me now stood Ethan Winslet, who visited the Lancel mansion as a representative of the Winslet family.

For your information, Aris had mentioned wanting to see me getting flogged but gave up due to Ethan Winslet’s dissuasion, stating there was nothing pleasing about watching it.

Anyway, now I am taking off my shirt. Of course, flogging means an act of striking back with a whip… it is something expected.

Ethan Winslet stared at me with icy eyes, then nodded to my father. It seemed like a signal to move on.

Fortunately, it did not seem to boil over into a discord between the families.

They knew very well what it meant to make Lancel an enemy, so they seemed to want to let things slide seeing Lancel take the first step in humility.

Of course, his viewpoint was only regarding the relationship between the families. Ethan Winslet’s eyes looking at me were very… very fierce. Well. To him, a childhood friend tried to r*pe his daughter, the feeling of betrayal must be beyond imagination.

The only relief is that so far, it’s the same as the original narrative. The scene of me being punished. Yes, I managed to come this far. That’s good enough.

I wanted to smack my past-self for putting myself into this situation.

If I had known, I should’ve just maintained a happy and peaceful academy life. Why on earth did I put this sort of setup in a novel that I wrote for my own gratification, thinking I would gain wealth and honor.

“Consider it fortunate that we’re letting it slide with this, Praha Lancel.”

“……Yes.”

I refrained from apologizing. No matter what I said, I knew it would only sound disgusting to them.

The penalty imposed on Praha was ten lashes. Some may think it’s only ten lashes, but the flogging displayed by a skilled craftsman was a punishment that could potentially kill a weak person if done wrong.

Crack!

The sound of the whip tearing through the air reverberated, immediately followed by a fierce pain exploding across my back.

Rip!

Even after being hit just once, it felt as if my senses were becoming blurred. However, it was alright.

Everything was going as planned thus far. After all, while I would only feel the pain equivalent to dying, I wouldn’t actually die. As long as I could withstand it, I’d be able to receive the priest’s treatment. So, just endure this!

However, due to the mighty force of the whip, I ultimately had no choice but to lose consciousness. How was I supposed to endure that pain? Literally, chunks of flesh on my back were torn away.

Hey, can’t you go a bit easier on me, damn it.

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