Me, the Weakest Member of the Hero’s Party? I’m the Villain Though? - Chapter 70
The young man’s face lit with overwhelming relief as he looked over the group. Then, of all people, he suddenly threw his arms around me, standing at the very back.
…Huh? I’m not the hero.
Stunned, I flailed helplessly as the man all but buried himself against my chest.
“W-Wait! Hold on— Let go first!”
Kyle reacted faster than I did. He seized the man by the collar and yanked him off me in one swift motion.
“Goodness gracious! Young Lord, the hero isn’t this one. It’s that one.”
Mildred, flustered, grabbed the man’s shoulder and turned him toward Kyle.
“Honestly, anyone could tell it’s this guy. How did he get that so wrong?” Gerard muttered in disbelief.
The young man’s teary, joyous face drained of all expression. Shock wide in his eyes, he glanced between me and Kyle, utterly undone.
“Really? This one’s the hero?”
Maybe he was just young, but his sense of judgment clearly wasn’t great. Anyone could see I looked the villain, while Kyle was the picture of a righteous hero.
“Yes, young master,” Mildred said gently, patting his shoulder. “This is the hero. He and his companions will defeat the Black Flame Dragon and restore peace to Serendal. You may rest easy now.”
That seemed to bring him back to his senses. The young man stepped forward and extended a hand politely to Kyle.
“It’s an honor to meet you. I’m Derek, son of the Grand Duke of Serendal.”
Kyle stared down at Derek’s hand with a reluctant look before finally taking it.
“Kyle Delos, seventh son of His Majesty, Emperor Ferosen.”
“Ah, a prince! Forgive my discourtesy for not recognizing you.”
For some reason, the handshake between them seemed to grow a shade too white-knuckled. Maybe just my imagination.
Kyle usually didn’t go around declaring his imperial blood, only when absolutely necessary, like the time he almost got hauled off by soldiers in the Caindel Barony.
If he mentioned it first now, it meant he wanted to assert his higher rank clearly.
“You must be weary after such a journey. Rather than standing here, why don’t we have a meal prepared at once? You there, go tell the kitchens.”
Derek waved to a waiting attendant without even pausing for Kyle’s response.
“A meal would be welcome, but before that, there’s something we need to discuss. About the Black Flame Dragon—”
Just as Kyle was about to jump straight to the point, Elonen cut in suddenly, stepping forward before Kyle could continue.
“What is it, Elonen?” Kyle asked, surprised.
“It’s just… His Highness’s condition. It seems familiar to me.”
Kyle nodded and let him speak first. Elonen rarely volunteered like this.
“Greetings. I am Elonen Freyer, priest in service to the Almighty Roson. I heard the Grand Duke is suffering from madness. May I examine him briefly?”
“If there’s any chance my father’s illness can be helped, please, by all means.”
Elonen approached the Grand Duke’s great chair, and Mildred instinctively moved alongside him.
“Be careful. He could seize without warning. I should assist you.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I would like to examine His Highness by myself.”
Mildred subtly placed a hand on the Grand Duke’s shoulder as if to steady him, but Elonen politely refused.
With a troubled look, Mildred hesitated and stepped back, yet her eyes stayed fixed on Elonen and the Grand Duke.
“Pardon me for intruding, Your Highness.”
A white light began to pour from Elonen’s hand. Slowly, he swept that glow from the Grand Duke’s deathly pale face all the way down to his feet.
“What do you think, Priest?”
Derek watched them with a face tight with worry, hands clasped together so desperately it betrayed his anxiety.
“In my judgment…”
Elonen studied the Grand Duke’s vacant, pale face for a long moment, then gave a small, certain nod. His expression had hardened with conviction.
“This isn’t an illness. It’s a curse.”
“A c-curse?”
Startled, Derek’s gaze shifted instinctively to the witch, Mildred.
“What do you mean? A curse?!”
Derek blurted out, flustered, and even the witch Mildred’s face betrayed clear signs of shock.
