Chapter 32
The atmosphere of the banquet had reached its peak.
Countess Lort subtly glanced around the grand hall.
Every guest inside was laughing warmly, chatting pleasantly with one another.
There was none of that typical social tension — no cautious politeness or hidden jealousy common in noble gatherings.
Yet behind their smiles was not true joy, but rather a hollow emptiness, as though their eyes were gazing at some faraway place.
‘The spell is working perfectly.’
The unnaturally peaceful mood was the result of a mind-control spell that filled the entire hall.
When caught under that spell, all one’s thoughts were emptied out, leaving only the words of the one speaking to echo in the mind.
The Count and Countess Lort would hold banquets like this, invite nobles, and then brainwash them — one by one — to increase the number of believers.
Believers who longed for the resurrection of the Demon God and devoted themselves to His cause.
“Dear.”
When the countess signaled that the spell was taking effect properly, the count rose from his seat as if he had been waiting for it.
“Are you all enjoying yourselves this evening?”
Every pair of dull, hazy eyes in the hall turned toward him.
“First, I would like to express my sincerest gratitude to all of you who have graced this gathering with your presence.”
“……”
“And I also offer this gratitude and joy to our great god — our Demon Lord — who has united all of our hearts here tonight.”
The guests looked at him with vacant eyes and applauded. Their mouths curved faintly, but their eyes remained lifeless.
It was a grotesque sight.
Countess Lort scanned the hall again, making sure everything was proceeding as planned.
Among the many guests, one woman stood out for her striking beauty.
Elseth Rohain.
Niece of Baroness Herban — and the woman rumored to be the future Duchess of Rittenhaus.
Elseth too was clapping blankly beside her aunt, the Baroness.
Amidst the audience’s reverent silence, Count Lort’s speech rose toward its climax.
“The day is near — when all filth of this world shall be cleansed, and a new land, a new world, shall give us new life and a new beginning!”
“……”
“Only you gathered here tonight will be able to greet that new world — on the day when He descends fully upon this land once more!”
“……”
“Will you… greet that new world together?”
At the count’s final words, charged with magical power, the hall erupted into thunderous applause that nearly stung the ears.
The countess smiled, joining the clapping.
When the speech ended, the count stepped down from the platform.
At that moment, a servant approached and whispered something into his ear.
Count Lort turned to his wife, who was looking at him curiously.
“A guest has arrived. I’ll go to the annex for a moment.”
The countess knew exactly who this “guest” was.
She nodded lightly.
“Yes. I’ll stay here and make sure things go smoothly.”
The count left immediately.
The countess watched him go, then turned her attention back to the hall.
Her gaze once again landed on Elseth.
Elseth, supported by Baroness Herban, was slowly making her way up to the second floor.
‘The young lady seems rather frail.’
For those with weak constitutions, the combined effects of alcohol and mind-control magic often became too strong, leaving them staggering as though completely drunk.
Elseth appeared to be one of those cases.
Watching her, Countess Lort smiled in satisfaction.
In that state, the spell would take even deeper root.
And with the already brainwashed Baroness beside her, the effect would be even stronger.
‘Tonight’s greatest harvest is that woman.’
If Elseth Rohain — fiancée to the Duke of Rittenhaus — became a follower, even the vast wealth of the ducal house would begin to flow their way.
The countess raised her wine glass, the crimson liquid shimmering softly as she murmured:
“To this beautiful night.”
The blood-red wine rippled gently.
Baroness Herban led the swaying Elseth with some effort toward the second-floor balcony.
Elseth leaned heavily against her aunt as they stepped out into the cool spring air.
The breeze brushed past them.
The baroness sat Elseth down in a chair and took the seat beside her.
“My dear, you really can’t handle your drink, can you?”
“…Aunt.”
Elseth’s voice came softly against her aunt’s shoulder.
The clear tone of her voice was far too lucid for someone who had been barely conscious just moments before.
But the baroness, lost in the spell, didn’t notice.
Elseth slowly lifted her head from her aunt’s shoulder.
Her once-clouded eyes were now bright and sharp — a pair of golden-amber irises staring straight at the baroness.
“Elseth, are you feeling better now?”
The baroness’s green eyes were unfocused, devoid of emotion.
Her words of concern carried no real feeling, and the emptiness of it sent chills down Elseth’s arms.
Just then, Elseth spotted Count Lort exiting the main building below.
His gaze was fixed on the annex.
Seeing that, Elseth turned her attention to the faintly glowing magic circle still lingering at the nape of her aunt’s neck.
“Go to Count Lort,” she commanded softly, “and ask to speak with him.”
Her gentle tone slipped into the baroness’s ear — half a devil’s whisper, half an angel’s murmur.
As the entranced woman listened blankly, Elseth whispered again, insistently.
“Tell him you wish to speak about ‘Him.’ Right now.”
“About… Him…”
“Go.”
The blend of her voice and the residual magic of the brainwashing spell made the command absolute.
The baroness rose and walked quickly out of the balcony.
‘That should buy some time with the count.’
The baroness wouldn’t even remember exactly what she had said.
The mind-control spell blurred one’s memory, leaving only a faint trace of the implanted command.
And even if she acted strangely, no one would suspect anything — they’d simply assume it was the wine.
‘That’s probably why the Lorts use banquets as their setting for brainwashing.’
When memories blur, they can just blame it on drunkenness.
Elseth touched her left wrist, feeling the cool, transparent bracelet there.
“Thank you, Treysia,” she murmured.
Wearing that bracelet — just in case — had been a wise decision.
She hadn’t brought mana potions; she wouldn’t need to cast large spells tonight.
And with her combat ability, healing potions felt unnecessary too.
But after nearly being poisoned once, she’d decided to fill it with status recovery potions instead.
She frowned slightly as she checked the remaining amount.
‘Not much left…’
She hadn’t filled it completely, thinking it wouldn’t be necessary.
But with the continuous spell saturating the mansion, the potion was draining fast. Once it ran out, she too would soon fall under the spell.
She recalled the hollow eyes of the guests in the hall, hearing only the words being fed into their empty minds.
‘I’d like to find whoever’s maintaining this magic and break it, but…’
Asteor had told her she must not be discovered here under any circumstances.
The brainwashing didn’t directly harm its victims — so it was more important that he avoid detection by the count.
Elseth tapped her earring twice.
“Your Highness, can you hear me?”
No response.
“Your Highness?”
Still nothing.
She bit her lip.
‘Did the dark magic interfere with the communication device?’
After quickly organizing her next move, she glanced around. Fortunately, no one was nearby.
She slipped off her heels and stored them in her inventory, lifted her skirt, and stepped up onto the balcony railing.
Then, strengthening her legs with mana, she jumped down.
Elseth landed barefoot in the backyard garden.
Here and there, couples were embracing or kissing under the moonlight.
But their whispered words weren’t of love — they were murmuring praises of the Demon God.
A chilling sight.
‘So the mind-control extends even into the garden…’
She quickened her pace toward the annex — partly to protect Asteor, and partly to avoid being ensnared herself.
Then, from the black mist swirling out of her brooch, Rty’s voice emerged.
“But why are those humans biting each other?”
He was pointing toward the kissing couples.
Elseth blushed furiously and turned her head away.
It felt like being asked by a curious child where babies come from.
“Ahem! They’re not actually eating each other — they’re just pretending. When people like each other a lot, they want to, uh… ‘devour’ each other.”
“Ohh, like how I want to devour cookies?”
Elseth decided not to correct him. She wasn’t ready to explain further.
Meanwhile, her feet carried her swiftly to the annex.
By now, the couples had vanished, and the draining rate of her potion had slowed drastically.
She was moving away from the spell’s center — its influence was weakening.
Elseth tapped her earring again.
“Your Highness, can you hear me?”
After a moment, Asteor’s voice came through — faint and broken.
“—seth… where… you?… not… clear…”
The signal was too distorted to make sense.
Hoping at least her own message would go through, Elseth whispered urgently:
“The count is heading your way. You need to—”
Before she could finish, footsteps sounded close by.
“Who’s there?”
It was one of the guards stationed near the annex.
‘Damn it.’
She looked around — only ivy-covered walls and archways surrounded her.
She slipped quickly into one of the arches to hide.
But as she did, she collided with someone.
“Ah—!”
Her body tilted backward, but before she could fall, a firm arm wrapped around her waist, steadying her.
Startled, Elseth blinked up at the man before her.
A mask…?
Behind the white mask, mysterious violet eyes gazed down at her.
