Chapter Ninety-Six: Those Who Die After Saying Just One Sentence Are Rarely Good People

It was an event that happened when the girl was five years old. The small city where she lived was utterly devastated by a catastrophic tornado, and her father perished in the disaster. In order to survive, she had no choice but to follow her mother and begin a life of wandering. The girl was remarkably sensible; even when meals were scarce, she never uttered a word of complaint. Until one day, a certain man suddenly appeared before them and brought them into a mansion that seemed straight out of a fairy tale.

"Genevieve, from today onward, you are my daughter," the man said, gently patting the girl's head. The girl looked up at the unfamiliar man and nodded. She felt incredibly fortunate, believing that she could now live in this castle and would never have to wander again.

But was it truly so? Could she really begin a carefree life like a blessed princess? Could reality and fairy tales so easily intertwine?

---

"Here, I’m giving you the invitation, so make sure to come and be grateful for it," Genevieve handed two gold-embossed invitations to Mayona and Ruby. This young woman, with her distinctive drill-like hair, was about to celebrate her twentieth birthday. As the daughter of the lord, the birthday banquet promised to be grand and sumptuous, with all the city's notable figures in attendance.

"Don’t know how to accept it? That’s so typical of commoners," Mayona, perhaps irritated by Genevieve’s tone, merely looked at the invitation without taking it. This flustered the drill-haired girl, who could only frantically blink at the mage, then forced the invitation into her hand while pretending to be tough.

"You’re still giving her the invitation after that?" Ruby was puzzled as he watched Mayona accept it. According to the usual script, shouldn't this be a feud to the death? Or was Genevieve preparing a trap especially for Mayona?

"Who knows, maybe she’s a masochist," Mayona replied, holding the two invitations between her fingers, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.

"Are you two hiding something from me?" Ruby grew increasingly uneasy. He sensed a secret deal between the two, but with so little information, he couldn’t guess what it might be.

"No, you’re overthinking it," Genevieve replied.

The birthday banquet proceeded as scheduled, but instead of being held in the city, it took place in a grand manor the lord had built outside its limits. The mansions within the city, though impressive, could not accommodate so many guests.

When Ruby and Mayona arrived at the venue, the grounds were already teeming with visitors. The manor’s gates stood wide open, and outside were parked carriages drawn by various magical beasts. Ruby’s fascination with these creatures far exceeded his interest in Genevieve; he lingered for quite a while before Mayona dragged him away.

After presenting their invitations, the two gained entry to the luxurious estate. The party itself was held in the garden, where tables were piled high with sumptuous food and drink. Guests chatted idly with acquaintances, awaiting the arrival of the host.

"You’re willing to change your appearance? That’s quite a surprise," Ruby remarked, handing Mayona a glass of juice. The mage’s once white hair was now jet-black—an effect she’d requested Ruby help her achieve. The absence of her usual striking features quickly made her the center of attention at the banquet. Before any of the men could work up the courage to approach her, Mayona cast a spell of distraction, causing them to forget their intentions.

"Too much attention would interfere with what’s about to happen," she explained.

"You really are hiding something from me," Ruby said, ever more convinced that Mayona intended to stir up trouble at the banquet. Yet, she only smiled mischievously, refusing to elaborate.

The lord and Genevieve did not keep the guests waiting long. They soon appeared on the balcony of the manor’s second floor. The drill-haired girl was especially dazzling tonight, dressed in a golden evening gown that glimmered even beneath the night sky, likely enhanced by magical arrays. The guests, seeing their hosts arrive, fell silent and waited for them to speak.

"Thank you all for coming to my daughter’s birthday banquet amid your busy schedules. Her mother passed away early, and I, preoccupied with official duties, have had little time to care for her. Seeing her grow into adulthood fills me with pride. I ask that you all continue to look after my beloved daughter..."

The city lord, Jace Vesta, was a middle-aged man with purple hair, utterly unlike Genevieve in appearance. Holding his daughter’s hand, he recited a string of blessings he had written for her. Genevieve bestowed a radiant smile upon the guests, but Ruby noticed something peculiar: her gaze was searching the crowd, her hand clenched into a fist with anxious tension.

"Could it be that she’s nervous because she can’t see you?" Ruby surmised. The drill-haired girl was clearly tense, and with Mayona’s spell of distraction in effect, it was understandable that Genevieve couldn’t spot her.

"Perhaps," Mayona nodded, snapping her fingers toward Genevieve. Though the others paid no mind, Genevieve clearly heard the sound, and her anxiety eased.

For a while, the two had nothing to do but watch. Genevieve moved through the crowd like a star among satellites, accepting gifts from all sides. The nobles exchanged gossip in fits and starts, while merchants seized the opportunity to show off their wares. The evening seemed destined to conclude in peaceful celebration.

"Help! Someone, please! The master is dead!" The old steward of the manor rushed into the garden in a panic. Ruby remembered him—they’d been greeted by the steward upon arrival. He had to shout several times before people took notice, and once they understood what he was saying, the party erupted in chaos. No one could believe it; they wished it were a joke meant to liven up the evening.

But when the steward led several prominent nobles into the lounge and they confirmed that the lord lay lifeless on the floor, laughter was no longer possible.