bookpower Chapter 9: A Distant Past [3]
Chapter 9: A Distant Past [3]
Chapter 9: A Distant Past [3]
Finally, the estate was quiet.
Vanitas finally had the opportunity to sneak around.
Along with the diary, there was a key tucked in the drawer.
The moment his finger touched the key, a sudden burst of information rushed inside his head.
Vanitas knew just exactly where to go, and what the key was for.
Down the corridor, there was a single room in the mansion that was clearly restricted.
Nobody, not even Charlotte, was allowed to enter the room. It had been sealed with magic.
As his fingers traced the wooden door, he sensed a familiar flow of mana around it.
"...It's my mana." He muttered.
It was him—or rather, the former Vanitas—who had sealed this room with magic.
Channeling mana into the key, Vanitas slid it into the lock.
WHIII—
A magic circle flared across the door, glowing softly as the sound of unlocking echoed through the hall.
Creaaaaak....
Vanitas pushed the door open, stepping into a space filled with the scent of aged wood and old parchment.
"Ah."
Naturally, every noble house had a head, and every head had an office.
This room was likely his Father's.
A large mahogany desk dominated the center. The surface was nearly empty, save for a few neatly stacked documents and an inkwell.
He moved further in, his gaze settling on the framed family crest hanging above the desk.
"I had my suspicions. Didn't expect it to be the case, though."
The documents were all addressed to a certain "Astrea," titled simply as "Family Head."
Vanitas Astrea.
"Haha."
He couldn't help but laugh.
"The hell did I get myself into?"
He was the current Family Head.
Vanitas sifted through the documents, his brow furrowing with each page.
Everything was in his name—estate management, finances, family decisions.
"Hmm..."
Vanitas recalled the party a few days back.
'So, those nobles who wanted to talk to me....'
They wanted to greet the Family Head. Though, they weren't too interested in their Family matters.
Astrea was only a Viscount Family, after all.
"Alright."
In Aetherion's laws, only one Family Head could rule per lifetime.
Once appointed, a Head's duty was lifelong, bound by oath and law.
Physical condition was irrelevant. Whether bedridden or strong, they were expected to lead until death.
Only in death could a successor take their place.
Vanitas scanned the official documents. His father's name was stamped on each one of them: Vanir Astrea.
At least, before 2021.
Everything else, every directive, every legal responsibility, was directed for him.
"Vanitas Astrea."
It didn't make sense unless....
Realization creeped in as he pieced it together.
If these duties had been transferred to him, if every legal role was now his....
Then there was only one conclusion.
Vanir Astrea was dead.
Not bedridden. Not in hiding.
Gone.
"Haha...."
Vanitas clutched his face, trying to hold back his amusement.
With his suspicions confirmed, there was only one thing left to do.
Confront Charlotte.
From her guarded words, to the subtle shifts in the servants' behavior towards him, it was clear.
No one in this household approved of him as the Head.
"..."
There was something here.
Something important enough for the previous Vanitas to seal this room with such care.
He pulled open the drawers one by one.
The last drawer, tightly locked, resisted him. He slipped a bit of mana into the handle, feeling it click open.
"..."
Inside lay a stack of documents, marked only with a single symbol.
A dark, swirling mark that triggered a faint memory.
He pulled them out and spread the pages across the desk.
"..."
The symbols, the coded item numbers, the obscure names.
He recognized it all from the game itself.
These were blackmarket transactions.
Each sheet was a record list of materials that no reputable source would touch.
In other words, forbidden items.
She brought him to a noble banquet.
It wasn't for socializing but to observe him—how he reacted to the people he was supposed to know.
Deep down, she hoped she was wrong. That he was still the Vanitas she despised.
But his behavior only raised more questions. His interactions were clumsy, making it obvious he wasn't the real Vanitas.
Each day that followed, Charlotte woke up with a growing fear.
She was living with someone—or something—else.
And yet, instead of acting out of malice, this new Vanitas spent his time studying.
Learning.
As if he truly wanted to live Vanitas's life.
Charlotte saw her chance.
If this entity wanted to claim her Brother's life, she could use that to her advantage.
"Disgusting."
He was no Vanitas. He was clumsy, unsure, and pretended to be kind. A complete contrast to her stern and cold brother, who would often yell and berate her.
Yet.... something lingered. A shadow of the Vanitas she remembered.
Her heart clenched.
Every word he spoke, every look he gave—it suffocated her.
Because, somehow, he felt like the old Vanitas, even if he was merely pretending.
Charlotte reached into the drawer, retrieving a dagger.
An Astrea heirloom, infused with anti–dark energy.
The purification toxin, building up slowly, would weaken him without his knowing.
Tonight, he would be at his weakest.
It was time for Charlotte to exorcise him.
At that moment, Charlotte stepped out of her room.
There were maids who met her gaze, and Charlotte asked.
"Is he asleep?"
"Yes, my Lady."
Charlotte nodded her head and silently prayed.
Soon, Charlotte arrived at Vanitas's room. As expected, the door was unlocked.
Charlotte carefully entered the room, keeping her movements silent.
"....!"
There, covered in a blanket, was Vanitas's figure. Her mind seemed to swirl.
Feeling her heart pounding in her chest, she couldn't think clearly anymore.
Charlotte stepped closer to the bed, gripping the dagger tightly.
WHIII—
A soft glow enveloped her, a swirl of colorful wisps gathering around as she channeled the spirits' power.
Swoosh—!
Her hands trembled, but her resolve held firm.
In the end, there was no fixing this Family.
She could never relive the old days again.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.
"Die! Die! Die! Die...! Die...!"
Charlotte closed her eyes as she continuously stabbed Vanitas's figure. She couldn't bear the thought of killing a person.
Much less, someone that took her Brother's appearance.
Riiiiing—
A ringing sound buzzed in her ears. Charlotte's mind was in disarray.
Memories flooded her mind of the days when she used to look up to her Brother.
Vanitas, who was like an insurmountable mountain, one she could only hope to catch up to.
Vanitas, who was her beacon of light, each of his praises inspiring her to work harder.
And Vanitas, who looked at her coldly as if she was pathetic, like an insect buzzing in his ear.
Only a few minutes had passed. But for Charlotte, it felt like it had been an eternity.
Eventually, her words shifted.
"...I'm sorry! I'm sorry.... I'm sorry...! I'm so sorry!"
Clang!
Unable to bear it anymore, the dagger fell from her small hands.
But as she stared at the dagger, a sudden chill ran down her spine.
Her vision was blurred, and the emotions overtook her, followed by the rush of adrenaline and fear.
She had only noticed it now.
"...."
There was no blood.
"Charlotte."
"....!"
Charlotte flinched as her breath caught in her throat. Turning around, her eyes widened and fear overtook her.
There, Vanitas stood, alive, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, giving her a look of concern.
'Stop it!'
'Don't look at me with those eyes!'
"You're not him!" She exclaimed.
"Charlotte."
Vanitas stepped closer. Charlotte held her hand forward, palms facing Vanitas.
"Stay back!" The wisps gathered around her hand, emanating a radiant glow.
"Charlotte."
"Stop saying my name!"