Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 99: My Master

Myss suddenly realized that Salaar’s eyes had always been “full.”

Because at this moment, the smile and concern in Salaar’s eyes abruptly faded away, leaving them as empty as a lake after the wind had stopped.

Clearly, Salaar’s heart had grown younger, yet his eyes had lost a bit of their shine. They were actually seventy or eighty percent similar to the portrait in the entrance hall.

Salaar’s lapis-lazuli pupils shifted sharply, sweeping the entire room into his vision, then locking onto Myss. Salaar’s hand was still loosely grasping Myss’s wrist and hadn’t yet had time to let go.

“Magnolia, what did Kendrick promise you?”

Seeing Salaar’s “dazed” appearance, Owen immediately rushed to provoke him. “And here I thought you really weren’t interested in the family assets. What, did you have to drag this shit-stirring stick back here?”

Magnolia’s seat was fairly close to the main seat. Her fork paused slightly, then she lowered her eyes and nose, pretending she hadn’t heard anything.

“Roskart and Rosbeth are your own older brother and sister, and Nicholas is your own younger brother. Your whole family clearly wants him dead more than anyone. Even if you look down on me, your cousin, you should at least consider your brothers and sisters.”

Owen coughed twice and deliberately raised his voice, his gaze touching on Nicholas.

This “Knight of Balance” of the Church of Cadence gripped his knife and fork tightly, his knuckles white, his expression so dark one could wring water from it.

“Simply shameful.”

Nicholas said in a low voice. His knife and fork scraped across the smooth porcelain plate, making a sound that wasn’t loud but piercing.

Without raising her head, Mag swung her arm to the side and gave a sharp slap to the back of Nicholas’s head. “Eat quietly. Such a big slice of pie can’t keep your mouth shut?”

Facing a slap from his own older sister, the young knight stiffened his neck, but in the end didn’t dare make another sound.

At the main seat, that large old man was still slowly and methodically cutting his beef, ignoring the undercurrents around the table.

Seeing that “Kendrick Karns” remained strangely quiet, Owen recklessly continued, “Previously, when I wanted to bring a female companion to the family dinner, I still had to weigh whether she was worthy of entering this manor.”

“Now look. Kendrick brings a filthy slave into the house, and everyone becomes so understanding. I don’t see how he has changed at all. He still has no concern whatsoever for the family’s reputation—”

“Shut up.”

Salaar suddenly spoke, interrupting Owen’s endless chatter. His voice carried a full measure of command, as if he were training a dog.

Except for the main seat, everyone’s cutlery paused at the same time, and the room suddenly quieted.

At some unknown point, Salaar had raised his eyes.

There was no feigned anger or flamboyance in those eyes, only a chilling, almost inorganic scrutiny, as if Owen not far away wasn’t a living person, but an obstructive clothes rack.

Owen was silenced by that look and immediately buried his head.

Salaar withdrew his gaze with little interest, his fingertips moving lightly against the inside of Myss’s wrist.

He was like a wild beast that had just entered a new environment, quietly assessing the danger around him and silently observing himself through the reflection in his wine glass.

Perhaps because he had been holding Myss’s wrist when he first “woke,” Salaar now hovered close to Myss, neither near nor far, as if this small person were some extraordinary shelter.

This was not the first time their skin had been pressed together, yet for some reason, Myss felt that this time, the brush of body heat was especially satisfying.

“I want that meat pie.”

Myss started a conversation with great interest, jutting his chin toward the center of the long table. “You said you’d cut me half of every flavor.”

Salaar immediately nodded, his gaze shifting slightly, as if recalling something. Then he leaned forward and quietly, elegantly took a piece of meat pie, gently placing it on Myss’s plate.

Throughout the entire process, Salaar’s etiquette was flawless. Even a king wouldn’t have been able to pick out a mistake.

“This part should be river fish. It has the best flavor.” After taking the meat pie, Salaar explained in a low voice.

Salaar’s tone was extremely calm. Unfortunately, Myss understood this guy far too well and could hear the caution and testing beneath Salaar’s tongue.

He was assessing.

This young Salaar, who knew almost nothing of the current situation, was using Myss as the center point of an “alliance” and rapidly analyzing everything around him.

Look at that. A Salaar whose mental age was sixteen or seventeen and who knew almost nothing of the current situation. This was simply too interesting.

Myss took a bite of the meat pie. The river fish had been seasoned until soft, tender, fresh, and fragrant, and the pie crust was crisp and delicious. He ate in an excellent mood and cleared his throat with great mercy. “Not bad, ‘Kendrick.’”

Salaar’s movements paused. In only a few seconds, he seemed to understand the current situation, and his tense body relaxed slightly.

Myss seized the opportunity to rub Salaar’s head twice. Salaar didn’t dodge or avoid him, sitting properly in his chair.

Owen was left hanging to the side like this, and the pig-liver color on his face deepened. Unconvinced, he opened his mouth and still wanted to say something.

The old man at the main seat tilted his dinner knife and knocked the edge of his plate, neither lightly nor heavily. Owen immediately buried the head he had just lifted and swallowed food in large mouthfuls.

Fork silently crawled out of Myss’s pocket and slithered up along Salaar’s trouser leg. It deliberately slowed its movements, climbing all the way to Salaar’s collar.

The slippery sensation crawled across his skin, but Salaar’s body remained motionless, as if nothing had happened.

“Listen. You are currently playing Kendrick Karns, a cold-blooded lunatic with a few screws loose. You were hit with a potion that can regress a person’s mind to adolescence. Act like it, and don’t give us away.”

Fork hissed as it relayed Myss’s will, the tip of its tail stabbing Salaar’s solid shoulder.

“The person beside you is named Myss. You are disguising yourselves as lovers. He’s your partner, your master. You must obey his orders unconditionally.”

“The evidence is that there is an unbreakable alchemical contract between you. I’m one of the products of that contract…”

Salaar nodded with an extremely slight movement.

He stood up and took another piece of meat pie for Myss, his ears listening to every word as Fork described the current state of “Kendrick.”

When Myss tasted the fifth piece of meat pie, he encountered boar meat that he didn’t quite like. Although the meat had been seasoned with ample spices and stewed in wine, he still felt this kind of meat had a gamey smell.

So he pushed this piece of meat pie onto Salaar’s plate. Salaar lowered his head without a word of complaint and ate it clean.

At the same time, the servants nearby had already begun serving after-dinner desserts.

It was winter, and snow drifted sparsely outside the window. Karns Manor, however, was quite warm from heating magic devices, and dinner actually had milk ice cream mixed with berries.

Salaar looked for a while at the expensive ice cream scoops sprinkled with gold leaf, then looked at Myss eating with great gusto. Silently, he pushed the silver cup containing the ice cream in front of Myss.

If it were the normal Salaar, he would probably do something similar. Myss’s gaze scratched back and forth across Salaar’s face, only feeling that the situation was completely different.

The Salaar he was familiar with would have an expression of teasing plus provocation, as if feeding a domestic beast of prey.

Now, Salaar’s expression was more like… how should he put it? A little like a puppy fetching a thrown ball and pushing it into his palm.

Myss glanced at Owen sulking to himself, and for once, his eyes held a bit of appreciation. What a pity that the effect of this drug couldn’t last a lifetime.

However, young Salaar was too quiet. The one who always went head-to-head with him was obviously livelier. It was hard to imagine that such a calm guy would become the madman who frolicked wildly in the seal.

Myss stuffed a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth, then reluctantly scooped out a large spoonful without berries and fed it into Salaar’s mouth.

Salaar quietly swallowed it.

Exquisite and adorable desserts gradually filled the whole table. This should have been a time to relax, yet the atmosphere grew increasingly solemn. Finally, the old man sitting in the main seat cleared his throat. “Kendrick.”

“Yes, Grandfather.” Salaar rose in response, his movements still frighteningly precise.

“How do you intend to compensate for the shame you brought upon the family?”

There wasn’t much emotion in the old man’s voice. “A few good words from Magnolia aren’t enough to cancel your punishment.”

Owen’s expression calmed somewhat. He looked at Salaar almost encouragingly, hoping he would go mad on the spot. However…

“I understand, Grandfather.”

“I hope to prove my sincerity through action. Please assign me a task. Any task. I will do everything in my power to complete it and atone this way.”

Salaar’s tone was still unbelievably calm. Queenie, sitting opposite him, raised her brows slightly.

“Who are you acting for?” Owen was incredulous. “You lunatic. Who knows what intentions you have? You can’t even use magic. You just want to deliberately mess things up—”

Salaar treated him as if he didn’t exist and continued, “If you’re worried, send Peyton with me as my supervisor.”

“I cannot make dead slaves come back to life, but I still have time to compensate the older brother I harmed.”

“That attitude is rather rare.” The old man evaluated him expressionlessly.

As expected of Salaar. This development was completely within Myss’s predictions. Myss clicked his tongue and was just about to withdraw his attention when he saw the corner of Salaar’s mouth curve slightly.

There was no smile in that smile, and Myss abruptly had an ominous premonition.

“After all.”

In the next instant, Salaar’s voice gained a slightly roguish flavor. “These words are all what Lord Myss wanted me to say. With that contract in place, I must obey my ‘master.’”

Boom.

Everyone around the long table raised their heads in unison. Countless gazes stabbed Myss into a hedgehog. The old man in the main seat narrowed his eyes, and his gaze was even more like a spear, directly skewering Myss through.

Myss opened his mouth, and the ice cream on his spoon nearly fell onto the table.

What master? What nonsense was this kid suddenly saying? …No, wait, this kid had done it on purpose!

Young Salaar didn’t care at all about this “acting task,” nor did he treat him as some natural ally.

This kid’s greatest target had been Myss from the start. Now, with a single nudge from Salaar, all hostility and suspicion had been buckled onto Myss’s head.

Under the strong but useless intimidation of the humans’ gazes, Myss still insisted on stuffing that spoonful of ice cream into his mouth.

Even if those gazes were about to set his hair on fire, Lord Archdemon still pretended to be engrossed in his ice cream and forcibly didn’t say a single word.

“Kendrick, you’re simply beyond saving!” Owen was the first to react, shrieking loudly.

“As a member of the Karns family, you actually call a slave master? What kind of repentance is this?”

“I forgot to say, while I’m carrying out the task Grandfather gives me, all of you may continue hunting me.”

Salaar returned to that infuriating calm, his tone carrying an unquestionable force. “Only if I survive and complete the task will I have the qualifications to request that Grandfather revoke the kill order. Well? Are there any other objections?”

Owen’s words stuck in his throat. Nicholas, however, raised his head and looked at Salaar twice more.

“Peyton?” The old man turned toward Peyton, who was beside Nicholas.

“By the Father of Cadence, if Kendrick truly wishes to atone, I’m willing to accompany him as supervisor.” Peyton humbly lowered his head.

“Very well. As for that task—”

“Choose the most dangerous one. Only then can it make up for the damage I caused the family’s reputation.”

Salaar spoke again. It was difficult to tell whether his attitude was full of sincerity or deliberate provocation. “I only have one request. Please give me several options, so that I… and my master may have some room to choose.”

After speaking, he directly pushed his chair aside and stood.

“I have said what needed to be said. I’ll return to the room with Myss to rest. If I’m present for the following discussion, I fear it would be rather inconvenient.”

Just as Salaar finished the final word, Myss also happened to finish the last bite of ice cream.

Only after being dragged out of the dining room by Salaar, with no more prying eyes around them, did Myss shake off Salaar’s hand.

According to the original plan, Salaar should have used his clever tongue, relying on eloquence and acting skills to make that old man cancel the kill order. As a result, young Salaar had stuck his foot in sideways and taken on an enormous trouble for them.

Were they really going to do unpaid work for the Karns family? While other family members were still hunting him? …What kind of joke was that?

“Heal your heart, heal your heart!” Myss gritted his teeth and smacked Salaar’s chest.

“So that is how it is. An alchemical potion rooted in the heart. Healing the entire heart can eliminate the potion’s influence.”

Salaar revealed a thoughtful expression. “…However, allow me to refuse.”

Myss: “Why?!”

He faintly felt as though Salaar had tricked him.

“Because theoretically, I shouldn’t be here. I couldn’t possibly have a partner, and even less could I accept such a worthless sham of a mission like this.”

“But I have indeed formed a contract with you, so there’s only one possibility: you used the contract to control me and made me act together with you.”

Salaar shifted his gaze and once again revealed a deathlike calm.

“During the operation, I took the potion of my own accord for some reason. Since removing the drug’s effect would benefit you more, I won’t let you have your way.”

At this point, he stopped walking, his tone carrying absolute certainty.

“Without question, you are my enemy.”

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The author has something to say:

Myss: [angry] [angry] [angry] (begins missing the Salaar he knows)

There’s no way to clean up the mess caused by curiosity now.

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