It had been so long since Koko’s last appearance that Rosha initially failed to react properly, given the urgency of the situation at hand.

She only realized he had awakened when she heard his mutterings from within her pocket.

“I’m hungry.”

“…Hm?”

“Food… I need to eat food.”

With eyes still half-closed in drowsiness, Koko poked his head out of the pocket.

He then abruptly fluttered out, coincidentally ‘devouring’ one of the incoming obsidian arrows in a literal sense.

As the arrow’s velocity gradually diminished while disintegrating into particles, Koko absorbed every last fragment before letting out a burp and mumbling,

“The food seems a bit aggressive.”

…Well, it was an offensive spell, after all.

Whenever Koko grew hungry, he would dismantle others’ magic to pilfer their mana, which was precisely what he was doing now.

“Tsk, don’t mess with my meal!”

Ignoring Cassis’ attempt to deflect the arrows, Koko commenced a full-fledged magic disassembly showcase.

Fizzzz-

The obsidian arrows raining from the void in the sky successively disintegrated, the particles smoothly siphoned into Koko’s form.

It was an uncanny spectacle, the arrows’ movements seeming less like an attack and more akin to optimally timed servings for Koko’s consumption.

As Koko’s scrawny frame gradually plumped up, Cassis muttered in disbelief:

“Since when could that bird speak so well?”

“He does that… when he’s hungry.”

“Haha, so these days, birds suddenly become talkative when hungry, eh?”

At a loss for words, Rosha chose to ignore Duke Feriel’s remark, redirecting the mana she had gathered to reinforce her barrier.

After all, the ravenous Koko was single-handedly devouring the assault.

“Uheheheng!”

Seemingly pleased, azure flames spouted from the white parrot’s tailfeathers.

Unfortunately, the expression on Marquis Lycaon’s face as he witnessed this scene, was completely devastated.

“No… how could a mere bird do this…?”

From his concealed position within the bushes, his widened eyes betrayed his shock.

Of course, having seen Koko at the noble council, he knew the bird’s identity as a phoenix.

Yet there was a vast chasm between displaying phoenix traits and consuming a 6th-stage magical attack so effortlessly.

Moreover, the spell he had just used contained the very quintessence passed down through generations of his venerable family lineage!

‘That… a measly bird ruined it all!’

However, he couldn’t simply stand idly by. With this failure, a hasty retreat was necessary to have any hope of a future reckoning.

His bloodshot eyes darting about frantically, Marquis Lycaon resolved as he rummaged through his belongings,

‘I will kill that woman, no matter what.’

He had recently acquired information about Roshanak Aper’s private audience with the Emperor during her visit to the imperial palace with Count Nigel.

Despite his family’s subsequent political persecution by the council, the Emperor had remained unresponsive, clearly implying some sort of secret pact between him and Roshanak Aper.

The Emperor had chosen her over him.

Not an ancient, prestigious magician family, but her!

“Insolence…!”

Just months ago, a timid young lady Roshanak had been engaged to his son. Yet now, his family faced this threat from her? It was unbelievable.

As the Marquiscontinued rummaging, his hand grasped an aged, tightly furled scroll. It was a magic artifact capable of transporting the user to a predetermined location.

But at that moment-

‘What?’

His fingers suddenly refused to obey. Despite only needing to tear off a corner to activate it, no matter how forcefully he tried, his fingertips merely trembled uncontrollably.

And then, the sound of leisurely approaching footsteps reached his ears.

Thud, thud.

“Your first time since the council meeting?”

That low, dry voice was instantly recognizable.

It was Froy Echerzen, one of the main culprits behind this entire debacle.

“You…!”

Momentarily forgetting the situation, Marquis Lycaon whipped his head around with a furious expression. However, accompanying Froy was another all-too-familiar face he had known for over a decade.

“…”

The Marquis’s furrowed brows twitched, seemingly at a loss, as a strangled sound escaped his throat.

“…Heres?”

“Father.”

Their gazes met.

Neither could find the words, an uncomfortable silence descending between them as Marquis Lycaon studied the face of the son he had believed dead.

But it was only momentary, as the circumstances rapidly coalesced within the Marquis’s mind.

‘Echerzen’s handwritten letter from Heres, the inside information and suspicions they possessed. It was all because…’

Heres had sided with them.

While Heres’s sole action had been penning that letter, such details mattered little to the current Marquis Lycaon.

Between his long-presumed-dead, inadequate second son and the noble Lycaon family lineage, the choice was self-evident.

“I had repeatedly warned you against becoming a burden to our family…”

“…Father?”

“What were you thinking, Heres? Do you even comprehend the consequences of your actions?”

Whenever he raised his voice, his second son would invariably stiffen and cower. The Marquis had intended to stall until his fingers regained mobility, allowing him to escape.

Yet Heres was no longer the Heres of old.

“You haven’t changed at all, Father.”

His hazy eyes hardened like steel as some resolve solidified within, and he unsheathed the sword at his waist.

Taken aback by his actions, Marquis Lycaon stammered:

“No, wait…”

This couldn’t be happening?

But his fingers still refused to move, a critical impediment given his reliance on precise hand movements for spellcasting. He needed more time.

However, time waits for no individual’s circumstances.

Baang!

The solid pommel struck the back of his head, and the Marquis’s vision instantly faded to black as he collapsed, the words he had intended to utter left unspoken.

* * *

In truth, it had been Rosha’s suggestion to have Heres handle Marquis Lycaon’s fate if possible.

Regardless of Heres’s past, they were still family, with their own shared history.

“Of course, I didn’t expect the Marquis to act so hastily…”

“And who could have foreseen I’d awaken at such a pivotal moment? Ahem!”

Perched on Rosha’s shoulder, Koko puffed out his chest proudly, relishing his moment in the spotlight.

It was then that Froy, having set the carriage in motion, approached and remarked:

“With the incapacitated Marquis Lycaon sent back to the capital, we don’t need to concern ourselves further. However… did you anticipate this?”

“Anticipate what?”

“That Heres would break away from Marquis Lycaon.”

While pleased to have resolved this lingering issue before entering the rift, Froy regarded Rosha with a puzzled expression.

“No. I just decided to give him a chance.”

“A chance, you say…”

Rosha responded with a warm smile towards the bewildered man.

Fundamentally, Froy harbored no expectations of others. Even less so for those like Heres, with whom he had an unpleasant history.

But she was different.

‘People can change, given the circumstances.’

If even a glimmer of that possibility existed, she believed in extending an opportunity.

Prompted by her smile, Froy gradually relaxed his features as well.

“…Well, I suppose it’s fortunate how it turned out. Marquis Lycaon wasn’t exactly an agreeable sort, so it’s better to substitute him with someone more controllable, in any case.”

Of course, that side still warranted further observation.

They turned their gazes towards Heres, who had just finished conversing with the Marquisate’s knights and was now approaching with all eyes upon him. Appearing rather sheepish, he spoke:

“Shall… we head inside the residence?”

The guards at the main gate didn’t attempt to bar Rosha’s group.

With Marquis Lycaon and Geoffrey having abandoned the family, coupled with Heres’s previously presumed death and long-standing mistreatment, the knights were perplexed over how to receive this unexpected arrival. Some even displayed a degree of deference.

“Ah, it has been so long since I last set foot in this residence.”

Duke Feriel remarked as he and Cassis led the way inside, followed by Heres, who approached Rosha with a deferential air.

“Lady Roshanak, I don’t think I need to use magic anymore.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I’ve realized my desire for magic stemmed from a yearning for my father’s acknowledgment. But now, it’s alright. So… I don’t think I need to enter the rift.”

There it was, the crux of the matter.

Froy leaned in and whispered to her:

“He hasn’t changed completely, it seems.”

“…”

Heres gazed at them apprehensively, his restless expression clearly conveying his reluctance to enter the rift, as if pleading for them not to converse in hushed tones.

At that precise moment, Koko responded on Rosha’s behalf:

“Is that so?”

“…Huh?”

“Then this is a chance to fix that rotten brain.”