A Mastermind? No, I'm just the Live-In Son-in-Law-Chapter 72: The Truth

As I sat sulking behind the desk, carrying all those tangled feelings, I suddenly heard a low voice from nearby.

“These damn restraints—take them off just for a second.”

Ripael, who’d been unusually quiet ever since the garden incident, was now pointing shamelessly at the restraints around her ankles.

“...Did you seriously say that expecting me to agree?”

“C’mon. You already know my true name, right? That’s way more effective than these cheap-ass restraints.”

“Well, that’s true, but...”

I laughed dryly, ready to dismiss her outright, but her reasoning, surprisingly sound for once, made me pause and narrow my eyes.

“That still doesn’t mean I have to let you go.”

“I just need to check something, seriously. It'll be quick.”

“...Hmm.”

“Ugh, don’t make that face! You really gonna be this paranoid forever?”

She thumped her chest in frustration, then scooted closer with an oddly desperate look.

“What do you think, Lunelle?”

My curiosity now piqued, I turned toward the tightly closed office door and asked.

“...How did you know I was out here?”

Moments later, a sheepish Lunelle poked her head through a small crack in the door.

“Um, well... I figured you’d be done with work by now and would’ve started guarding me voluntarily...”

“Y-You truly are a master. Yet again, I have one more reason to respect you.”

I felt a bit sorry for Lunelle, but in truth, I hadn’t guessed—I'd sensed her presence.

‘Lately, I’ve been noticing the presence of everyone nearby...’

For example, Lunelle had been standing just outside the office keeping watch, Parsha was still sound asleep in my bedroom, and Sasha was scurrying around on the first floor.

I couldn’t sense people like Bergen or Alfred, who were farther away outside the mansion, but I could still vaguely feel they existed somewhere out there.

‘Could this be from the mark they received that time...?’

The mark the executives bore was the obvious causal link, yet I couldn’t shake the strange unease that came with it.

“So then, what do you think about granting this demon’s request?”

“If it’s just for a moment, I believe it should be fine.”

At my open question, Lunelle suddenly appeared right beside me, eyes gleaming sharply.

“Even if she’s an archdemon, she’s lost most of her power. If anything happens, the First Hero’s sword you gave me will suffice.”

“Eek! Keep that thing away from me!!!”

“Don’t get your hopes up, demon.”

When Lunelle threateningly raised the sword I’d gifted her, Ripael let out a shriek and ducked behind me.

“Alright then. I’ll release them—just for a bit.”

“Yes!”

“...But if I see even the slightest sign of funny business, you’d better be ready.”

Feeling somewhat reassured, I began to unseal the restraints on her legs with white magic.

“Ugh... Did it really have to be white magic? Couldn’t you just remove them physically...?”

“...How dare you question your master’s grace.”

“Tch, you sound just like my old comrades...”

Still grumbling for no reason, Ripael broke into a wide smile as the restraints clattered to the floor and stood up.

“Ahhh... So refreshing. These things were really annoying, you know.”

“Didn’t you just call them cheap and worthless?”

I couldn’t help but give her a look of disbelief—and that was when it happened.

—Woooo...

In an instant, magical energy surged and spiraled around Ripael, her eyes narrowing into crescents.

“Wait!”

At almost the same moment, Lunelle unsheathed her sword with invisible speed and leapt in front of me.

“Now, now, it’s fine.”

“What do you think you’re doing—?!”

“We demons are weak to contracts and promises, after all.”

Lunelle, sensing danger from how quickly Ripael was regaining strength, started radiating killing intent—but Ripael, looking utterly unimpressed, kept her eyes fixed on me even with a blade to her throat.

“Lunelle, put away your sword.”

“But, Master...”

“...It’s fine. I take responsibility for my own words.”

Normally, the mere thought of this kind of situation would’ve had me trembling.

Even with her true name known, forcibly controlling a demon of Ripael’s level could still lead to massive destruction.

‘But... why am I not worried at all?’

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Strangely enough, not a single negative thought crossed my mind.

“Hm... I still only feel that unpleasant white mana of yours...”

“.......”

“Did I misunderstand? But I definitely felt something back in the garden...”

Ripael, now standing tall and scrutinizing me closely like she was appraising livestock, didn’t intimidate me in the slightest.

In fact, I almost found her pitiful.

“...Something’s not right.”

She tilted her head, clearly puzzled, then leaned in close and started sniffing around my neck like a dog.

Then she raised her head and said:

“Hey, you. Open your eyes.”

“...My eyes?”

“Yeah. That’s the only thing left to try.”

Snapping back to my senses, I frowned in annoyance.

“I am opening my eyes...”

What I hated hearing the most was “Open your eyes” — did she know that?

“No, not like that! Stop squinting! I mean open them wide, really wide!”

Ripael, looking absurdly serious, even bulged her eyes out as an example.

“If I’m right, then your power is—”

“...Like this?”

Scratching my head, I mimicked her and opened my eyes as wide as I could.

“Yeah, just like tha—huh?”

“......!”

Honestly, I have no idea what happened next.

“I did what you said, so what’s the big—”

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry—!!”

“...Eh?”

“I dared I dared I dared I dared—!!”

Before I could finish my sentence, Ripael suddenly dropped flat on the floor and started babbling incoherent apologies, eyes completely glazed over.

“...Haa, haa...”

“Lunelle?”

More shocking than that, though, was Lunelle, who had collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath with a pale face.

“Master... If I may speak freely... I recommend that you avoid opening your eyes under any circumstances from now on.”

“W-Why?”

Confused and stunned, I looked at her as she continued in a grave tone.

“...That was the first time in my life I’ve ever come close to passing out from fear.”

Wait—are you telling me... my face is really that bad?!

***

Late at Night. In one of the most peaceful places within the Ringaarden estate—Cecil Ringaarden’s room.

“Hey, Cecil.”

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“...Hm?”

“Do you have a moment?”

Just as she finished bathing and was getting ready for bed, Cecil tilted her head at the sound of a familiar voice coming from the door and turned to look.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing much... I just wanted to ask you something.”

Her brother and acting head of the household—now officially recognized with the title of Hero—Whitney poked his head sheepishly through the slightly cracked door and asked timidly:

“How do you feel when you look at me?”

“...Where did that come from all of a sudden?”

“It’s nothing serious... It’s just that, lately, people have been looking at me kinda strangely.”

Normally, she would’ve groaned and thrown a pillow at him, but to Cecil, Whitney’s current image was the most favorable it had ever been in her entire life.

So, sitting on her bed with her hair down, Cecil took his question seriously and began to reflect.

“To be honest... You give off kind of a scary vibe, don’t you?”

“Ah.”

As she finally spoke her unfiltered thoughts, Whitney’s mouth fell open.

“Sometimes, just seeing you smile makes me feel a chill...”

“.......”

“And if you’re serious-faced, it sends a shiver down my spine, so I end up avoiding your gaze...”

If she’d spoken with the bluntness of a rebellious teenage girl, it might’ve been easier to brush off—but coming from someone who had completely returned to his side, her sincere analysis stabbed straight into Whitney’s heart like a dagger.

“...But still, I think you’re fine.”

Just as Whitney’s expression darkened, Cecil smiled softly and added in a low voice.

“In the end, what matters is your mindset, right? And in that sense, you’re an exceptional person.”

“...Ahaha.”

“I vouch for you. So don’t worry too much about what others are saying.”

For a moment, Whitney blinked, then murmured in a touched voice,

“Thank you... dear sister...”

“I actually handled the weird rumors going around among the staff.”

“Huh?”

Whitney tilted his head at Cecil’s offhand comment.

“You know, even if they talk back at first, if you keep putting pressure on them, they eventually shut up.”

“What do you—”

“...And the staff who kept spreading nonsense behind your back—I looked into them and made a list. Want me to share it while I’m at it?”

The sparkle in Cecil’s eyes as she spoke was every bit as chilling as Whitney’s usual aura.

“Cecil... when did you find time for such a thoughtful act?”

The problem was, to Whitney, it just looked like his little sister was responsibly growing into her future role as head of the household.

“You’ve been pretty busy ever since your performance in the selection tournament...”

“It’s fine. You can leave these little house matters to me from now on. I’ll handle it all quietly so there’s no more noise.”

As Cecil stepped up even further with those words, Whitney's lips curled into a faint smile.

“...You should focus on saving the world, right?”

Her cold smile, framed by moonlight streaming through the window, gave off a strange, indescribable atmosphere.

“Our Cecil... has grown up.”

“Fufu.”

Normally, people asked if they were really siblings, given how different their vibes were. But in this moment, the two looked more alike than ever.

***

Meanwhile, at that very hour. Deep within the Holy Theocracy—inside the Sanctuary of the Saintess.

“S-Saintess...?”

“.......”

“W-What did you just say...?”

A high-ranking priest who had come in response to a secret summons widened his eyes in disbelief at what he’d just heard from Hestia, who sat veiled before him.

“I’ll say it one last time.”

“Ah, no—I didn’t mean for you to repeat it—”

“...Sir Whitney is not actually the Hero.”

Her firm voice cut him off, and he instinctively held his breath.

“The real Hero {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} is his sister. I deliberately covered that up and declared Sir Whitney to be the Hero.”

“W-Why would you... do something like that?”

“Because, naturally, it was the right course of action.”

To someone who had lived his entire life faithfully studying the teachings of the Theocracy, Hestia’s words were utterly alien.

“Sir Whitney has the kind of potential that made him worthy of being chosen by me.”

“...I-I don’t understand what you're saying—”

“Haa. Then I’ll explain it in a way you can understand.”

As he bolted up, about to flee, Hestia's voice changed tone—and he froze in place.

“If you want to walk out of here unharmed, receive the baptism.”

“Hiek...”

“If you become one of Sir Whitney’s chosen like I did, I promise there’ll be no violence.”

Even if he hadn’t frozen on the spot, it wouldn’t have mattered. The newly baptized members of the Third Holy Knight Order, reborn through Hestia, were already blocking the exit.

“So... what will it be, brother? Fufu...”

Thanks to Hestia—now a loyal apostle and vassal of Whitney—his power and influence were rapidly expanding... without him even knowing it.