That Tragic Essence [Please Give Flowers! Please Vote!] / Myth Made Manifest: The Three-Headed Hound of Hell [Please Give Flowers! Please Vote!]

But there was no need for that.

Because Luvia had already answered first.

"My name is Luvia Edelfelt. Hehe~ You should know what that name means, right?"

"Edelfelt? Could it be...?!"

"That's right. I'm the next head of the Edelfelt family, as well as Brother's cousin! I came here to visit the Clock Tower, but I never expected to witness such a spectacular battle!"

A faint blush colored Luvia's face.

Though she was only a tender seven-year-old girl, there was already a trace of charm about her.

She was absolutely a beauty in the making.

Her beautiful eyes, fixed on Moran, sparkled like stars.

"Brother Moran, don't be so reserved! You still haven't called me by name!"

"Uh... Luvia... Cousin...?"

Moran finally caught on.

Only then did he remember that such a relationship did exist.

Tracing their family ties back, Luvia before him really was his cousin.

Since the Edelfelt family had always been neither warm nor cold toward him,

he had never paid much attention to that connection.

And now, a little sister had suddenly popped out of nowhere.

Moran truly had no idea how to handle it for the moment.

"Mm, call me Luvia. Just call me Luvia! You don't need to be so restrained around me, okay? Onii-san~!"

Luvia puffed out her cheeks unhappily.

Even when angry, she was adorable like a doll.

Still, the atmosphere was rather delicate.

If they had not been cousins, people might have thought they had some strange fetish.

"All right, then, Luvia...?"

"Ah! Brother! How heart-fluttering!"

Luvia looked absolutely delighted.

Crowne, watching this scene, could barely keep it together.

That Sorrowful Nature

"Lady Luvia, you are the next head of the Edelfelt family, while Lord Moran is the legitimate son of a branch family. Is this really..."

"Crowne, since when was it your place to order me around? Besides, with such superb wrestling skills, why would I care about some difference in status? I want to learn from him!"

Like a hyena guarding its food,

Luvia clung tightly to Moran's arm without any intention of letting go.

"But you are..."

"Hmph! Before becoming the next head of the Edelfelt family, I am also a graceful young lady. For a lady, Freestyle Wrestling is an absolutely indispensable required course!"

Luvia's words made Crowne's vision go dark.

What exquisite sophistry.

Since when did ladies need to learn Freestyle Wrestling?

Clearly, the servant could not argue with the young lady.

"Lord Moran, Lady Luvia may come to visit you often in the near future. She will likely make some unreasonable requests at times. I hope you will be understanding."

"Haha... I will..."

Faced with Crowne's request,

Moran gave an awkward laugh.

"Also, Lord Moran, your performance in this duel will surely reach the main family. The Edelfelt family follows the principle of never letting go once it discovers a treasure. I apologize for my earlier disregard. You are a jewel of gold that I cannot see through."

Crowne bowed deeply and respectfully.

Like those who had initially believed Moran would certainly lose, he too had thought Moran could not create a miracle.

Moran did not feel much about Crowne's attitude.

Because he knew people were simply like that.

Respect had to be earned through one's own ability.

Before seeking respect, one first had to see whether one possessed the ability to make others respect them.

Moran clearly did.

Therefore, gaining respect was only inevitable.

Luvia's appearance gradually made everyone around them realize that the Edelfelt family stood behind Moran.

No one dared look down on Moran anymore.

Afterward, Luvia could only reluctantly leave Moran to complete the Clock Tower's procedures.

As she left, she called out that she would come visit again later.

Moran had no idea what expression he should make.

But on second thought, having such an adorable little sister around did not seem like a bad thing.

The days ahead would probably not be peaceful.

"I, Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald, hereby acknowledge my previous error of placing excessive certainty in innate factors."

In the recording, Kayneth said each word with a tense expression.

As though he were swallowing poison.

Moran replayed the recording over and over.

He was having an absolute blast with it.

Camus was leaving class with him, and she had been fidgeting all the way as though she wanted to say something.

"Student Moran, are you taking the recording home to make copies? Wouldn't that violate the promise you made to Professor Kayneth..."

"Camus, you don't understand. I only said I would delete the recording in this camera. Kayneth never said I couldn't make copies. Something this entertaining should be preserved properly."

Moran wore a sly grin like a dishonest merchant.

Camus could not help feeling sorry for Kayneth for a second.

Still, asking about the recording was not her real goal. She had merely wanted to use it to start a conversation.

"Um! Student Moran! Do you have time? I know a nice café nearby!"

Camus blurted it out with a flushed face, as though throwing a bomb.

Unable to suppress the agitation in her heart.

But after she finished speaking, she saw Moran raise his hand in front of her.

"Student Moran..."

Camus looked confused.

Soon, she understood why Moran had done that.

Tap, tap—

The heavy sound of leather shoes striking the ground rang out, while the silhouette of a pitch-black figure stretched across the street beneath the light around the corner.

As though it were blocking their path.

"Heh, Amures, do you still want to compete with me? This time, things won't end well for you."

Moran lowered the hand he had held out before Camus.

He stared toward the corner of the street.

The owner of that dark shadow was Amures. Moran had noticed him the moment he approached.

No, this guy had not concealed his presence at all.

"Camus, you bastard, are you getting close to Moran the moment you saw him rise to power?! You're just like a dog following the smell of meat! You bitch! All of you are the same!"

The injuries on Amures's face had not yet healed.

Under the cover of night, his roar sounded like the wail of a vicious ghost.

It conveyed his resentment and hatred.

His appearance was so ugly that one could not help turning away.

"Amures..."

Camus was so shocked that she did not know what to say.

She could not imagine that the former model student of their class had been twisted by hatred into something so grotesque.

In the past, she had also been at the bottom of the class.

She could only avoid being excluded and treated as an outcast by following behind the top students' group.

That was why she admired and envied Moran.

She yearned for the weak person everyone looked down upon to overturn reality.

Perhaps Amures was right.

Perhaps she really was a woman who could only cling to the strong.

Camus was certain that the flutter in her heart was not opportunism, but a longing to reveal her true self.

At this moment, she expressed this love for the first time.

"The weak also have the right to raise their voices. Of course, everyone has a different way of surviving. What's wrong with staying true to yourself? Amures—or perhaps you're jealous of Camus?"

Moran teased mockingly.

While responding to Camus's feelings, he also viciously struck Amures where it hurt most.

"Shut up! Shut up! If it weren't for you! I wouldn't have been expelled from the El-Melloi classroom! I wouldn't have been driven out of the Clock Tower! You ruined my future!"

Amures clawed at his hair like a madman.

He still remembered those icy gazes.

After Kayneth removed him from the El-Melloi classroom, not a single department had been willing to take him in.

The reason was that even that genius Lord had declared that he had no future.

Then there was even less chance they would teach a mediocrity.

The Magi of every department said so, stamping him with the label of having no future.

This was what it meant to fall from heaven into hell.

And yet, this was merely the situation Moran had once faced.

A simple reversal of status had driven Amures mad, leaving him thinking only of finding someone to hate and blame.

Otherwise, he could not face reality.

Moran saw through Amures's sorrowful nature.

Myth Manifested: Cerberus

"Without Professor Kayneth protecting you! If it's just magecraft, how could someone with inferior bloodline like you possibly be my opponent!"