The Ogre Strength Fairy and the Eldest 'Son'-Chapter 294 - Unconventional Interpretations & Disturbing Recognitions

Chapter 294: Chapter 294 - Unconventional Interpretations & Disturbing Recognitions

Qatrand found and gripped a small hand as the bulk of the crowd began to disperse slowly. Hushed tones began to build up to audible conversation as cultivators and the few waiting mortals alike processed the intricacies of the play. Some cast thoughtful glances toward Corde, others whispered about the coming Descent and what choices they also might soon face.

Ondua in particular approached the troupe’s leader directly, offering words of appreciation for their hard work putting it all together on short notice. The actor could easily tell the hero was speaking true, even past the man’s subdued friendliness.

"It’s truly a pleasure to be thanked by a veteran recognizing the value of hard truths before battle."

"Of course. There are many such stories in the histories. But truly learning from them is sometimes overlooked as other practical matters draw close. By the way, I hope my daughter has-"

As the Goltbred Patriarch hovered over the poor man in conversation, who just wanted to change out of the sweaty costume, Yatrel moved closer to her daughter and son-in-law. Her alert stance and layer of ’suspicion’ was clear enough to the illusionist.

’I feel like I used to be better at avoiding being understood~’

Elua knew what was likely in her mind. She had felt the attention on her during the play, from every line the Villainess spoke.

"That was... quite moving, dear. You picked this telling yourself?"

"I did. I thought everyone could use a reminder. Of what’s at stake if priorities are overlooked. That even well-intended choices can have unforeseeable consequences."

The rise of the Mirrored Clairvoyant wasn’t the worst tyrant she’d ever spawned. As far as rulers in that age went, at least the region growing more prosperous with her at the helm *was* true. Which is why the reincarnator had never bothered to go back to visit through her reign.

At the time, she felt that she’d fulfilled her lingering attachment to the deceased companion that drew her to that role. The one that had been born there long before that particular invasion. That had died far from that homeland.

’Well, that woman wasn’t very happy to see me when I did come back. After her kingdom was in ruins. Rather hysterical. I guess they did get that part correct - the shifting of blame away from her own shoulders.’

Corde approached their grouping, scrutinizing the many touches her intended sword disciple was giving to the small cultivator. She couldn’t tell whether it was requested or if the boy was merely... frisky with the thought of coming battles.

She’d seen the kind when on campaign before.

’I’ve broken more than a few irrational hands on them as well. But he seems too... devoted to need to worry about that. I hope.’

"Thank you for the invitation. I do feel most would focus on showing heroic victories rather than complicated moral territory. I have been... surprised by you, again."

"I’m afraid those were simple choices all around. You bring value to an event by attending, the story I picked left deeper impressions, and as for the latter? You only know your own assumptions. Surprising you is easy."

The brunette replied while meeting the ’older’ woman’s gaze without flinching. After a few seconds of waiting to see Corde’s reaction, her lips parted to continue what she wanted to say.

"I thought we all might benefit from examining what happens when we pretend otherwise. That a choice is hard. That we know what someone is like."

Despite knowing she was not going to be trusted, the reincarnator still dared to stress the potential of misconceptions on her part. The moment of tension was not quite a complete challenge and not quite perfect understanding - but something passed between them before the woman nodded once and turned to Qatrand.

"Your wife sees beyond the surface of things. That sort of quality would serve you *both* well in the days ahead."

As Corde hez Iralev moved away to speak with other cultivators, Elua childishly stuck her tongue out at her back. The insinuation that Qat didn’t see the ancient cultivator well enough for who she was deserved the gesture!

Afterward, she leaned against the blonde’s side and let herself finally clutch at the black suit fabric. The brunette buried her face in it and took a deep slow breath. When she released it, the small girl suddenly appeared tired in a way that only her spouse could recognize was truly genuine.

She could feel it pulsing through the fragment now that the spiritualist stopped suppressing it. A sort of exhaustion caused by a morning of running about and an evening of keeping even minded.

’Watching the performance took more from her than she can admit. But she still sat through it. Why is she so...’

"Let’s go for a walk before you return to your tent."

The blonde suggested quickly as her palms slipped protectively around the brunette’s waist. A weak smile turned up at her before mint eyes dulled.

"Mm. Tomorrow will be here soon enough."

When the two walked away from the viewing area, Yatrel er Goltbred watched her daughter with thoughtful eyes. There was something in the girl’s forced composure tonight that she couldn’t ignore after what she’d been told.

A quality that seemed both familiar due to how it had always been there... and strange in recent context. The weightiness of personality beyond her years.

’Should I ask her to tell me more... or wait for her to?’

The mother was unsure which option she herself would prefer if in the same situation, let alone the opinion of her enigma of an eldest daughter. For now, the reddish blonde supposed it did not matter.

The girl quite obviously had someone to talk to about these things already.

⟠ ⟠ ⟠

"A most unconventional interpretation of the tale."

Lady Aarengraf remained seated in the empty viewing area long after most of the audience had dispersed from the venue. Her elegant posture as she sipped at a local tea shared little of her thoughts. The noble’s fingers traced the edge of her cup as eyes followed the direction in which the Goltbred heiress and her Yecine spouse left the venue.

"I found it compelling."

Leysah stood at the railing, curved blades secured at her hips. However, her stance was far from relaxed. The performance had left her unsettled in ways she couldn’t articulate. Her eyes lingered on the now-empty stage where the Acid Tongued Villainess had stood.

A character she knew well, but hadn’t thought about in years.

"Did you? I found it rather deliberate in its final messaging."

If the troupe leader heard the assessment, he might grimace and nod agreeably. Ad-libbed lines like his were more than daring in *true* theatre work. He had only risked it because of the presence of Corde’s speech at the intermission.

"The historical accounts I’ve read typically portray the antagonist as needlessly cruel. This version was..."

The woman paused, searching for the right way to express it. Leysah had always had trouble with talking about things best described as ’instinctive’ to her. Like it was harder for her than for others to put a word to some of her impressions.

"More nuanced?"

The noble’s shrewd eyes studied her expression after supplying the phrasing. She’d seen that same one borne when the warrior spoke freely of Elua er Goltbred - and also when the woman carved sigils that simply worked without her knowing why.

"You think the record of events is incorrect and this aligns better somehow?"

"No, of course... not."

Leysah shook her head, but a frown of uncertainty creased her forehead.

"It’s just that I’ve always felt the stories about her were too... simplistic. Even as a child, I questioned why someone would make such choices without *reason*."

The curved blade wielder fell silent. She was disturbed by her own admission. The strange pull she’d felt toward the character in the plays when she was younger resonated uncomfortably with her inexplicable reactions to the Goltbred heiress lately.

The feeling was not identical, but similar enough to notice the pattern. To notice that there may be something wrong with her.

"I guess I’ve felt this before. It’s been years since I’ve seen any dramatization of the Villainess, but I remember finding myself defending her choices to my Youth Guild instructors, much to their disapproval."

Lady Aarengraf tapped her finger on the small table she planned to leave behind at the venue. A cheap thing she acquired just earlier in the day for a place to set her tea this evening. Her fist closed after a number of taps and settled on the flat surface.

"Consider the timing of this performance. The eve of our departure to face the Descent. Consider who arranged it... and who attended."

Leysah followed her gaze to where Corde hez Iralev was engaged in conversation with several senior Guild members close to the main pavilion. Her authoritative presence often drew others to her, even though her Element was anything but warm.

Her blade dance the day before had been well received. Leysah herself was quite impressed and moved by its technical excellence. As well as frustrated that things had gone so ’wrong’ at this competition when it came to showing herself off. frёeweɓηovel_coɱ

"The Frozen Duskblade’s endorsement of the character’s choice was... unexpected."

The younger cultivator admitted this, causing the noblewoman to lower her voice further.

"As was her presence at the Goltbred viewing area. Even taking into account the presence of Qatrand er Yecine. Their young miss builds her alliances strategically."

"You still believe she’s creating some kind of specific network during this competition?"

A deep sigh escaped Leysah, well and fed up with trying to dissuade that notion. Just because a member of an affluent family was seeking connections to varied human talent did not mean there was a conspiracy afoot. She would admit there probably *was* one ongoing, but not at the angle the noble was looking.

"I believe she is ensuring that things align with her perspective before battle lines are drawn."

Lady Aarengraf rose to her feet in a fluid motion and began to walk away without looking back. The other woman caught up quickly and matched her stride. Ostensibly, she had been poached to be a guard for tonight. Though as good a fighter as she believed herself to be, the older woman was simply stronger.

"I think that she is planning and making decisions for when the time comes. That she has identifiable priorities."

Leysah felt a chill that had nothing to do with the night air. Something inside her screamed that the woman was right and that the path was dangerous. But still, she opened her mouth to ask politely.

"And what are those priorities?"

The noble smiled thinly without turning her way.

"That... is what I intend to discover. Before I am swallowed by my momentary involvement."

The remnant of the Acid Tongued Villain’s disciple found herself glancing back at the stage one last time. For a moment, she could almost see the green-robed figure standing alone amidst the fluttering white strips of fabric again.

For a moment... she could almost imagine standing right there with her.

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