The Villain’S Daughter-In-Law Is Inherently Powerful [EN]: Chapter 39

“Oh, I almost forgot to give you this.”

I was lost in my thoughts when Lapiren handed me a very luxurious-looking invitation.

“You have your first official external engagement. Congratulations.”

“To commend the top-performing cadet and present the scholarship created by the Driblianne family… Can I really handle this?”

“Yes. While you’re there, it would be even better if you could check on Dante. Here’s a memo I’ve prepared for you.”

The single sheet of paper Lapiren placed on the book read:

Tasks at the Academy:

Attend the tournament finals.

Group A: Grades 1-3 (ages 10, 11, 12)

Group B: Grades 4-6 (ages 13, 14, 15)

Group C: Grades 7-10 (ages 16, 17, 18)

A tournament is held every two years for each group, and the Driblianne family awards scholarships to the three winners.

The winners of Group B and Group C compete in a final match to determine the gold and silver medalists.

Group A winners are automatically awarded the bronze medal due to their young age.

The gold medalist receives a laurel wreath made of gold as an additional prize.

You will place the laurel wreath on the gold medalist’s head and congratulate them.

Oh, that’s quite reasonable.

Of course, the physical difference between a 10-year-old and a 12-year-old is significant.

But if that 10-year-old is Dante, a direct descendant of the Driblianne family, it balances things out somewhat.

“We don’t know who the winners are yet, right?”

“No. The preliminaries are probably underway right now.”

“I heard Dante is 10 years old. Maybe Dante will get the bronze medal!”

I didn’t think Dante wouldn’t get the bronze medal. Because he becomes a Sword Master later on. He’ll be outstanding from the start, right?

“Yes, that’s right. He’s the same age as you, Little Mistress.”

Of course, no one knows my exact age. However, after a long-serving family doctor examined research data on the growth of the Dambi tribe, it seems I’m probably 10 years old, so I’m officially 10 years old.

So, Dante is the same age as me, and Ian is my older brother.

“Did you have a good class?”

“Ian! I’m going to visit the academy.”

A moment later, when class ended and I came out into the hallway, Ian was waiting for me.

Actually, I felt a bit bad telling him I was visiting the academy because it seemed like Ian wanted to go but couldn’t…

‘But he’s going to find out anyway, so it’s better to tell him myself than have him hear it from someone else later.’

That’s how I would feel.

So, I just chose to tell him myself.

“I see. Tell me what the academy is like later.”

“Okay!”

“There will be a lot of boys there… Actually, I don’t want to send you alone.”

Ian mumbled, his eyes drooping.

I giggled because it was so cute.

“I’m not going alone. I’m going with Sir John.”

“You’re going to award the scholarship, right?”

“Right.”

“Be careful, Florin.”

After walking for a while, we arrived in front of my bedroom.

I liked the warmth of Ian hugging me tightly, so I hugged him back and pressed my soft cheek against his shoulder.

“Ugh.”

But then, Ian frowned and groaned.

I widened my eyes at the sound, which must have been from pain.

“Ian? Are you hurt somewhere?”

“No.”

“No, you were! You definitely looked like you were in pain just now. Did they pick on you again? Who was it? Who did it?”

How can he come back with injuries after only a few days?

I wanted to take off his shirt right away to check for bruises, but I hesitated because I thought Ian might not like it. I didn’t want to hurt his pride.

“I’m really okay, Florin. I’m getting new training these days, and I’m not used to it, so I got hurt.”

“What kind of training makes you hurt so much just from a touch on the cheek….”

“Well, tightrope walking and juggling to improve balance. And running, I guess?”

What?

* * *

Ian didn’t lie to Florin. He just didn’t go into detail.

What he was learning as Joker’s bunny [an apprentice or subordinate role] was as follows:

Tightrope walking (at an aerial acrobatics level) to improve balance (to become a skilled assassin).

Juggling (with real daggers sharpened to a razor’s edge).

And running (while minimizing his presence and staying hidden so as not to be detected by the Little Clowns chasing him). Then getting caught and covered in flour, and so on.

Each one was difficult training, but Ian was enduring it better than expected. So much so that he wondered if his biological father was really a mercenary.

It was the only way to explain Ian’s innate adaptability, quick judgment, and flexibility, unless he had inherited it from his biological father.

“I need to double the training time until Florin comes back.”

To think he’d get caught getting hurt this morning.

‘Florin gets sad when I get hurt.’

I need to get stronger quickly so I don’t get hurt.

Ian walked down the hallway with a happy face. His steps were more energetic than ever.

‘No, wait.’

Then, after arriving at his bedroom, Ian came up with a cunning idea.

‘Wouldn’t it be better to get hurt on purpose to keep getting worried about?’

Just enough that Florin wouldn’t worry too much when he showed it. Just enough to make her look upset and offer to apply medicine, somewhere visible.

‘This level won’t do. If it looks like an injury to anyone, Florin might think I’m weak.’

Eventually, Ian closed the door, threw off his shirt, and ran his eyes over the blue bruises etched on his body. Then, he roughly decided on the parts and sizes that could be injured.

‘Once I get used to everything, I’ll be able to get hurt or not get hurt as I please.’

A vein stood out on his tightly clenched fist.

Ian wanted to be bigger. So that Florin wouldn’t think his half-brother was cool. So that he would look a little better.

So, all Ian had to do while Florin was away from the mansion was train and work hard. That was all…….

“Ah.”

A sound of realization popped out of Ian’s mouth as he pressed on his bruises.

It was because he had thought of the fastest and surest shortcut to improving his skills.

A method that ordinary children would never try. Something that would make someone say he was crazy if he told them.

‘……Should I challenge my uncle?’

It was reckless, but it was worth a try.

* * *

“Blood doesn’t lie, they say.”

Just over a day later.

Kiraxus was holding Ian’s ankle, dangling him in the air, with a dumbfounded look on his face.

“You’re doing the same thing your mother did.”

“But Mother must have succeeded.”

“That’s right. Don’t try to hide your presence; blend in with your surroundings.”

Ian, who had been thrown down, wiped under his nose and stood up again. He staggered slightly, but he could always try again.

“Can I become the master of Joker if I reach a level where my uncle can’t detect my presence?”

“If you hit me in the back of the head even once.”

“I understand.”

Ian bowed his head and stepped back.

It was time to change clothes to see Florin off.

From today, for three nights and four days. It was the time Florin was away from the mansion, going to the academy.

* * *

A large flag was planted on a faded stone building, fluttering in the wind.

I got in the carriage, but I had teleported directly from the teleport station in the Driblianne manor, so I arrived in the blink of an eye.

It was embarrassing to have ridden in the carriage.

“Wow!”

“Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Yeah! You said John was also from the academy, right?”

A moment later, I discovered the academy cadets lined up outside the window to welcome me, and I couldn’t help but admire their etiquette.

The cadets were all dressed in matching black uniforms, with gold cloaks draped over one shoulder.

They wore berets on their heads, and according to what I had learned, the badges attached to them were symbols of honor.

Badges were awarded like prizes for doing well, such as achieving accomplishments inside or outside the school or winning in test matches.

Lapiren said that the intention was to give the cadets a sense of accomplishment by making the badges visible to everyone and to ignite a competitive spirit.

“Hey, hey. How many badges did John get when he was at the academy?”

“I had so many that I filled my beret and still had badges left over.”

“Really?”

“Yes. My hat is probably still on display in the Hall of Memories.”

Amazing, John!

I was a little embarrassed that I had been riding on top of such a talented person’s head in the form of a Dambi [referring to her small, animal-like form].

I stamped my feet, and when it was time to get off, I pretended to be calm and put on an indifferent expression.

I have to do well because this is the first external engagement that the Lord and Inanna have entrusted to me!