The Baby Fairy Is A Villain [EN]: Chapter 50

Serea Fron Ibroiel was renowned as a bold heroine.

With her striking pink and purple hair, the unmistakable symbol of the Duke’s family, and a height that surpassed most men, she also possessed a robust physique.

Her voice was a uniquely deep timbre, ensuring that when Duke Ibroiel chanted magic, she immediately commanded the attention of everyone nearby.

The young ladies and gentlemen of high society would often blush and become shy if they even managed to make eye contact with Duke Ibroiel at a ball.

The Duke was keenly aware of her own captivating charm.

She delighted in dressing flamboyantly, like a peacock displaying its plumage, to showcase her unique appearance while attending various balls and banquets.

Duke Ibroiel was also remarkably diligent in hosting banquets herself.

The banquets held at the Ibroiel Dukedom, which she meticulously planned and executed, were famous throughout the Palen Empire.

They were unique and entertaining events that any aristocrat with aspirations in high society eagerly sought an invitation to.

Even foreign nobles coveted an invitation to the Duke’s celebrated banquets.

Perhaps it was because she lived such a glamorous and vibrant life that people often forgot a crucial detail.

Duke Ibroiel, Serea, who appeared youthful, as if she were merely in her 30s…

Was, in reality, well over 60 years old.

Thanks to her exceptional magical prowess, her body’s aging had effectively halted, making Serea actually older than the current emperor.

With blood ties to the imperial family and possessing immense power, she was someone who seemingly had nothing to fear in the world.

However, there was one particular existence that Serea deeply loathed.

That individual was so utterly dreadful that the mere thought of them caused her to grit her teeth.

“Hoo…”

Serea, clad in a delicate nightgown and reclining against the plush pillows of her bed, let out a long, weary breath.

The transparent liquor swirling within her wine glass carried a subtle, fruity aroma.

She slowly took a sip of the exquisite liquor, imported from a distant land, and repeatedly exhaled with satisfaction.

Half-closing her eyes, she savored the tranquil nighttime atmosphere and felt a sense of contentment wash over her.

A languid feeling after a soothing bath, a delicious liquor that perfectly complemented her refined taste, the gentle chirping of insects filtering through the open window, and…

“Your Grace.”

A man’s voice shattered the peaceful ambiance.

Serea sharply raised her lowered eyes, her relaxed demeanor instantly vanishing.

Rolling her eyes in annoyance, she screamed as soon as she identified the man standing silhouetted against the window.

“Aaaaaah!”

She hurled the wine glass in her hand with surprising force.

The treasured foreign liquor was spectacularly scattered in the air, its precious contents wasted.

“You crazy bastard! I paid you back all the money!!”

Unfortunately for Serea’s aim, the man slightly shifted his body to the side, deftly avoiding the projectile.

The expensive wine glass disappeared futilely out the window, its fate sealed.

He glanced at the falling glass for a fleeting moment, then turned his attention back to Serea and offered a faint, enigmatic smile.

“I didn’t come because of the money.”

“Then!” Serea exclaimed, her voice laced with exasperation.

The man averted his gaze from Serea’s disgusted expression.

“A gown, please.”

At his terse remark, Serea burst into laughter, a mocking sound that echoed through the room.

As if he wouldn’t be swayed even if surrounded by a bevy of scantily clad, beautiful women swaying seductively before him.

His heart was seemingly made of a stone harder than a diamond, yet he still felt the need to feign modesty.

“Oh, are you going to pretend to be shy now?”

“That’s not it. I’m simply showing basic human courtesy.”

“Human? Huuumaaan? You dare to call yourself a human! You shameless bastard!”

“Your Grace.”

The beautiful voice firmly cut off Serea, who was working herself into a frenzy.

Serea, who had been shouting loudly until just moments ago, abruptly fell silent, her mouth snapping shut.

She frowned, narrowing one eye in suspicion, and replied with a curt tone.

“…What.”

“Conversations with Your Grace are always enjoyable, but I regret to say that I don’t have much time right now.”

“Ah, I heard your house burned down?”

Serea chuckled, a hint of malice in her tone, and groped for a wide plate on the dresser after roughly fastening her gown.

She picked up a handful of sage and mint leaves piled high on the plate and began chewing them thoughtfully, asking with feigned innocence.

“If you’re not here to play the role of a loan shark, you wouldn’t have come to ask me to put out the fire, would you?”

The man standing before her was a tycoon, a man of immense wealth who could burn down dozens of townhouses in a single night without batting an eye.

There was absolutely no way he would travel all the way here simply because his house had caught fire.

Serea fixed the man with wary eyes, her gaze sharp and assessing.

Count Basilian, Kiern Basilian.

He was a man who was undeniably pleasing to the eye, a feast for the senses.

His appearance was both beautiful and dangerous, as if an evil spirit had meticulously crafted him.

If other people were mass-produced, shoddy industrial products sold on the market, Kiern was a masterpiece created by a skilled craftsman, a masterpiece that the craftsman would only create once in his lifetime.

As an avid art lover, she found herself pleased simply by looking at his face, appreciating his aesthetic perfection.

However, she knew all too well that even the most beautiful flowers often concealed sharp thorns.

Serea was acutely aware that he was a snake, a creature of immense beauty but also laden with deadly poison.

“What is it, really?” she demanded, her sharp words flying like the shattered wine glass.

Kiern, silhouetted against the soft glow of the moonlight, slowly parted his lips, his expression unreadable.

“Master.”

“……”

It was an old title, one that carried significant weight and history.

He quietly implored the hardened Serea, his voice laced with a hint of desperation.

“Please help me.”

To come all this way, to utter such words, and to couch his request in terms that she could never truly refuse.

“…A cunning viper,” Serea spat out, her voice filled with lament as she sank heavily onto the bed.

She crossed her legs, folded her arms defensively, and stared intently at Kiern, her gaze unwavering.

“I’ll help you, but on one condition. Send your family’s third child instead,” she declared, thinking of the handsome and promising third young master of the Basilian family.

“You said he has a talent for magic. If he was born as a jewel, he should be polished and allowed to shine.”

“As I’ve said before, he doesn’t wish to pursue it yet. If he ever desires to learn, I will send him to Your Grace immediately.”

“Ugh… That’s why talented guys are the worst,” Serea grumbled, her frustration evident.

He was born with that precious magical talent, yet he was content to let it rot, to squander his potential.

It was a waste of time to devote himself to rigorous training every day.

Serea shook her head in exasperation, as if she was completely fed up with the situation.

“So, what’s the problem? What exactly do you need my help with?”

“I lost my youngest daughter.”

“…Youngest daughter?”

She was just about to point out that he only had three sons when a sudden realization flashed through her mind.

It was the news that Count Basilian had recently adopted a baby girl from a local orphanage.

It was a story that had subtly become a hot topic of conversation within high society circles.

From the moment she had heard the news, she had been burning with curiosity, wanting to ask him why he had chosen to adopt her, but she had consciously held back.

‘I should have asked why he adopted her in exchange for helping him with this,’ Serea thought with a pang of regret, realizing she had missed an opportunity.

However, outwardly, she maintained a composed expression, sitting there with an air of polite attentiveness.

“As you know, there was a fire at my home. I’m somewhat restricted in my movements due to the aftermath. Of course, I’m planning to find her by personally dispatching my people, but…”

Kiern continued, his voice smooth and his smile picturesque.

“Wouldn’t it be significantly easier if Your Grace were to assist with your magic?”

She seemed to understand the underlying situation, the unspoken truth.

There were only a select few individuals within the entire empire who were aware that Kiern practiced black magic.

It was a secret that he desperately needed to keep hidden from the outside world if he wished to avoid an unwelcome visit from the dreaded Inquisitors.

Because of the devastating fire at his mansion, the eyes of many were now focused intently upon him, scrutinizing his every move.

In this precarious situation, if he were to employ large-scale black magic, he risked being exposed, his secret revealed.

Serea resigned herself to using her magic to aid her troubled disciple.

“I require a part of the body of the person in question, or someone with direct blood ties. Did you bring some hair or something of that nature?”

“…Ah, not that.”

Kiern slowly traced a line on the palm of his hand with his fingernails, his expression unwavering.

Almost immediately, red blood welled up and began to trickle down his skin.

“I’ll do it with my blood.”

Serea flicked her finger dismissively.

An empty bottle that had been rolling around in the corner of the bedroom suddenly flew through the air, positioning itself directly beneath Kiern’s hand to catch the falling blood.

“But she’s an adopted daughter, correct?”

“I lost my son too.”

“Who?”

“It’s the first, Belzeon.”

“……”

Serea was quite familiar with Belzeon, the eldest son of the Basilian family.

Though still young, he was said to be acting as Count Basilian’s assistant, utilizing his genius-level intellect to aid his father.

He had lost such a smart child, one who was poised to inherit the title of Count in the near future.

It wasn’t that he was simply lost, no matter how she considered the situation…

“Didn’t he run away because he couldn’t overcome his temper?”

Kiern simply smiled silently, offering no further explanation.

Serea shuddered involuntarily, but she pulled the bottle filled with blood in front of her, steeling her resolve.

She swiftly drew a complex magic circle in the air, her movements precise and practiced.

She had no desire to become entangled in complicated affairs, so she intended to quickly fulfill his request and promptly send him on his way.

The magic circle, composed of intricate purple lines, shimmered with an ethereal, mysterious light.

The bottle filled with blood was drawn into the center of the magic circle and shattered into countless fragments.

The blood swirled and was completely absorbed by the circle, causing the light it emitted to intensify dramatically.

“…!!”

Serea raised her arm instinctively, shielding her face from the sudden burst of energy.

A sharp, cracking sound pierced her ears, and the magic circle abruptly shattered into pieces, its power dissipated.

Serea stared blankly at the scattering fragments of light, her face pale and drawn.

“You, there’s someone… next to Belzeon right now?”

She swallowed the metallic taste of blood rising in her throat, a consequence of the magical backlash, and muttered in disbelief.

“He broke my magic…”

The Duke of the Palen Empire, a praised great magician with skills that are among the best on the continent.

He shattered such Serea’s tracking magic at once.

The meaning of destruction was only one.

The one who broke the magic was an existence as strong as Serea.