~CMWDD 04~

Chapter 4

“I-I’m going out.”

She tried to act calm as she stared at the open door, but her body had stiffened so much that she couldn’t lift her skirt and jump down. The carriage was quite high, making it dangerous.

Seeing Ollentia hesitate, Dimidius let out a short sigh and then extended his hand. But he quickly waved it off and rested on one leg. He seemed very displeased with the situation.

“Ah! You’d find holding hands awkward, wouldn’t you? Then there’s another way.”

But Ollentia was too flustered to catch his words properly.

‘Should I grab it? Or just lightly rest my hand on the back of his hand? But then I’d have to hold my skirt with one hand, and I’d probably lose my balance and fall.’

Ollentia pondered seriously for a moment. Honestly, she didn’t really want to hold his hand, but it was a matter of basic etiquette. Compared to other young ladies, she often acted on her own impulses, but as a noble raised with high-class education, she cared about her reputation.

Then Dimidius spoke again.

“…Even if you don’t want to, you could at least hold my arm.”

Ollentia lingered there, struggling to decide, when Dimidius raised both hands in an expression of exasperation.

The gesture, as if signaling “I’m helpless,” felt like a powerful message. Ollentia, thinking she could manage on her own, jumped down with all her strength. It was a do-or-die move.

Seeing her recklessly leap from such a height, Dimidius effortlessly caught her.

Ollentia’s body settled into his arms like a delicate petal swaying in the breeze. His firm hands gripped the folds of her dress, and a brief silence followed.

The scent of bark brushing against her nose, the white nape of his neck before her eyes, and a chest so solid that any man would envy it.

Everything felt unfamiliar.

He stood firm, holding Ollentia, and spoke in a teasing voice.

“…Just how long do you intend to stay in my arms?”

“Ah! Well, you see—”

Ollentia’s face flamed. Mortified, she didn’t want to stay in his arms even for a second.

Her flushed face shouting:

“I-I’m going down!”

She struggled but firmly freed herself from Dimidius’ arms. After regaining her balance, she quickly stepped off the carriage. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she turned her head, but the carriage carrying the Grand Duke had already sped out of Shine Street. Not even a farewell.

The carriage sped on relentlessly, like outlaws dominating the road.

The Devil Duke, Dimidius Belial.

Meeting him was truly strange. It felt like seeing a mirage in the middle of a desert.

“What is even going on? Only weird people around Shine Street,” Ollentia muttered, laughing to herself outside the office, utterly exasperated.

“G-Grand Duke Belial!”
“Your Grace, you’ve arrived!”

The knights, brimming with tension, bowed deeply at the sight of Dimidius. They saluted but stood rooted in place.

Naturally.

Dimidius Belial possessed such immense magical power that merely being near him could overwhelm a person.

Dimidius thought of the woman who had stared at him attentively and spoken clearly. She seemed entirely unaffected even in his presence.

At first, he thought she was simply insane. He had heard that some people occasionally suffered mental lapses and could not feel his aura. But she wasn’t that kind of person. He realized this when he had held her hand as the carriage jolted.

Divine power.

The woman had divine power, and it was fairly strong even through touch.

Yet she seemed completely unaware of it. Had she known, she would have confronted the street ruffians instead of fleeing.

Her eyes were clear and pure, and she spoke sensibly.

‘A face that’s hard to forget once seen.’

She was beautiful.

The woman’s platinum hair shimmered in the sunlight, and her golden eyes sparkled with nobility. Surely, she was the daughter of a famous family.

Dimidius, lost in thought about the woman whose name he still didn’t know, was interrupted by his aide Killan.

“Your Grace, where is the weapon you were looking for?”

Only then did Dimidius snap back to reality.

“Ah! It isn’t fully completed yet. Next week, Killan, you come get it. To think someone would make me come in person—Sol the blacksmith is truly remarkable.”

Sol the blacksmith of Shine Street was famous for bowing to no noble, no matter how powerful. His skill was unmatched, a 40-year tradition of craftsmanship, particularly known for making sabres.

Dimidius was currently staying at his townhouse in the capital, Geranium, outside the Grand Duchy. He handled council affairs and kept track of the Empress, while simultaneously entrusting the weapon to the blacksmith.

Killan spoke carefully, sensing the subtle mood radiating from Dimidius.

“Usually, Your Grace would have been angry. Did something happen?”

Sharp observation.

Dimidius was thinking not of the blacksmith, but of the strange woman he had just met.

Killan seemed to sense, just from Dimidius’ aura, that his curiosity toward her outweighed any anger toward the blacksmith for turning him away. After over five years of working together, Killan was that perceptive.

Dimidius cleared his throat, pretending nonchalance.

“It’s nothing serious. Some flies got on my nerves on the way here.”

“Flies? What kind?”

“Very small. And they kept buzzing. I had to tell them off, but they kept talking back.”

“Ah… you met such a person, then.”

“No, not like that.”

Dimidius denied it immediately, but Killan, scratching a scar on his face, seemed unconcerned. Though his face looked harsh, Killan was meticulous in dress, buttoned to the neck, careful in appearance.

Dimidius continued.

“At first, she thought she knew me. A person wearing a white Bauta mask—obviously, it could only be me.”

Indeed, Dimidius Belial was famous throughout the Bonus Empire. Rumors about him spread far and wide, even though he seldom appeared outside the Grand Duchy.

Yet somehow, the woman had not recognized him at once from the mask.

Dimidius felt embarrassed, his pride stung, and a subtle sense of disappointment. But he was also secretly pleased that someone treated him so casually despite knowing he carried demonic blood. He could not deny that.

Sitting on the office sofa, Dimidius brushed the sweat-soaked hair from his face. No matter the discomfort, he had no intention of removing his mask—especially in Geranium, where so many knew his father.

Dimidius Belial hated that he resembled his father, former Grand Duke James Belial. He wanted to reject that resemblance forever, which was why he avoided even seeing his father’s face.

James Belial was more devilish than a demon. Outwardly kind and gentle, yet at home he was violent and authoritarian.

‘You got a question wrong on the test? Worthless! Always like this. Do you think you deserve to live comfortably in my house?’

At seven years old, young Dimidius was stunned and resigned. His eyes showed no light, his small mouth pressed tight.

‘Cried again in your mother’s arms? You’ll never be a man. Pathetic.’

When his mother Lilith suddenly left as well, he withdrew into a lightless cave, waiting for death.

‘Enough! It’s all over. That woman was just like the others. There’s no one in the Bonus Empire who likes red eyes, right?’

Few in the Bonus Empire had red eyes; Dimidius Belial, half-demon, was the most famous. Blue-eyed people were royal; golden-eyed were mostly nobles.

Despite his innate power, business acumen, and superhuman abilities, Dimidius was always lonely, made so by the people of the Bonus Empire, who feared and opposed him as a half-demon monster.

Outside the office, Bobby was waiting. He greeted Ollentia tearfully after her long absence. Dazed, Ollentia met Yulsa Karunda briefly and quickly returned to the Count’s residence in Armenia. She no longer wished to linger on Shine Street.

Yulsa, reputed to be the best advocate in the Bonus Empire, surely had noticed the noble surname “Armeniaca” attached to Ollentia’s name.

Though there was no deposit, the discussion with the advocate went smoothly. He intended to immediately file for the end of guardian protection. Contrary to his reputation as prickly, he was polite.

‘You must have had many concerns. Of course, the money should be returned.’

‘Exactly. In court, it would have been returned eventually. I don’t know why they resist. Infuriating.’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll make sure it’s properly resolved.’

‘By the way, you could have opened your office somewhere with better security. Why Shine Street?’

‘Ah, was it inconvenient? I like Shine Street. Today, people were celebrating blessings from the deer spirit—it’s lively and vibrant, really nice.’

‘Blessed by the deer spirit? What does that mean?’

‘It means spring has finally arrived. People see the deer, the spirit of spring, in the forest along Shine Street and hold surprise festivals. Isn’t that charming?’

Ollentia thought perhaps the rumors of him being prickly arose from nobles he didn’t get along with, rather than reality.