Chapter 33 - The Inheritance Ceremony
The Kingdom of Klein had been abuzz lately with that piece of news.
“—Extra edition! Extra edition, hot off the press!”
Special editions were being scattered all over the royal capital.
“...Huh...?”
“Hey, hey, you’re kidding me...!”
“No way... this has to be a lie?!”
Those who saw the headlines opened their eyes wide in shock.
I snatched one of the fluttering papers out of the air and checked the headline.
“Zorva le Ainsworth of the Four Great Noble Houses, dies suddenly in a magical experiment accident!”
Yep, looks like everything was moving along just as I instructed.
The day after I took care of Zova the Great Elder, I sent Nia a <Call> with “three instructions.”
First: Announce Zova’s death as “an accident during a magical experiment.”
Second: No matter what, inherit the headship of House Ainsworth.
Third: If she ever found herself at a complete loss, investigate the Chamber of Fusion at the lowest level.
So far, she seemed to be following my orders to the letter.
Incidentally... upon receiving word of Zova’s passing, His Majesty the King expressed his condolences and declared, “From today, the kingdom will observe five days of mourning.”
Because of this, every government office in the kingdom shut down.
And since Redrick Academy of Magic was a royal institution, classes were suspended as well.
And now—dressed in black mourning clothes—I made my way to Klein Cathedral to attend Zova’s state funeral.
This, the largest ceremonial hall in the kingdom, was overflowing with over a thousand nobles and officials, where a solemn funeral was being held.
...Ah, yes. That’s right...
My gaze was drawn to the center of the altar of flowers, where a grand portrait of the Great Elder had been placed.
...Zova really did have a face full of dignity, didn’t he...?
I wasn’t sure how to describe this feeling.
Something sad, something amusing, something bittersweet... a strange mix of emotions welled up inside me.
Now, Zova was working lively in Void Town, eyes sparkling as he threw himself into his role as a facility manager.
Whenever I made a request, he would snap back in less than two seconds with, “Yes, gladly!” That image of him had long since lost all the dignity he once carried.
...Well, I mean... he actually seems to be enjoying himself, so maybe that’s fine as it is?
At the end of the day, Zova was nothing but “a lump of curiosity,” a researcher down to his very core.
If I had to compare, his nature was closer to Entia, the “Witch of Knowledge.”
In fact, when I taught him about Japanese knowledge, he truly lit up.
[So this is ‘electricity’...! I see, such an energy exists...! Ah, fascinating! Truly fascinating! Unlike mana, it is a wondrous power that anyone can use! As expected of Lord Void—what profound wisdom you possess!]
Even without me saying a word, he would happily spin his own thoughts on how to turn my ideas into something practical.
Far better, I thought, than rotting in the Ainsworth basement, wasting away on grotesque experiments.
While I mused on such things, prayers were offered to console the spirit of the departed, and the sacred rites concluded without incident.
The funeral smoothly transitioned into the farewell ceremony, where attendees came forward to give their last words to Zova.
This, of course, also doubled as a “show of presence,” where heirs apparent of powerful houses each stepped up and delivered brief eulogies in turn.
Naturally, I too, as the heir of House Heisenberg, delivered words of condolence to Zova.
“Elder Zorva was a great man who dedicated his life to the prosperity of this kingdom. At his passing, I feel the deepest sorrow and immeasurable loss... We have truly lost someone irreplaceable. I pray from the bottom of my heart that his soul may rest in peace.”
...Though in truth, I was the one who killed him.
As I read aloud from the script I had prepared, Nia, the chief mourner, sat there gaping with her mouth open.
That expression of hers probably meant, “How can you spout such hollow words so easily...?”
Heh. She’d better not underestimate my talent for theater.
It had been six years since I reincarnated into Ronzolkia, and in that time I had faithfully played the role of a slothful and arrogant noble.
I had, if I might say so myself, gotten pretty good at the act.
...Even so... this really is “just a ceremony.”
The atmosphere in the hall was somber, yes... but not a single tear had been shed.
That’s right—no one here was truly mourning Zova’s death.
...Well, that’s no surprise. He did all sorts of reckless things for his own selfish gain...
He abandoned his duties as one of the Four Great Noble Houses, ignored any form of charity, and outright refused cooperation with the Royal Selection three times.
All he had ever pursued was his obsession with researching Magic Factors.
However, when it came to “achievements,” Zova had mountains of them.
Countless papers bore his name—on hereditary conditions of Magic Factors, the potential for Magic Factor awakening, transplantation surgeries, and more. All of them had contributed greatly to the advancement of the Kingdom of Klein.
Of course, behind those achievements were inhumane experiments. So it wasn’t as if anyone could praise him wholeheartedly.
And so, while a grand state funeral was held, not a soul there was truly mourning his death.
Everyone attended simply because they were adults, nobles with appearances to keep up.
Once the farewell ceremony ended, Zova’s coffin was carried away and laid to rest in Klein Cemetery with full honors.
Naturally, there was no body inside it—in truth, the man himself was alive and well in Void Town—so this was nothing more than a symbolic gesture.
Thus ended the funeral of Zova le Ainsworth.
The age of the Great Elder’s autocracy closed, and the Ainsworth family stepped into a new era.
That new era, as I had predicted, began in complete chaos.
Yes, the inevitable: a succession dispute.
Officially, Nia had been declared the next head. But in truth, she was nothing more than a figurehead.
She had been robbed of the <Primordial Flame> by Zova, discarded like refuse—a pitiful girl.
That was Nia le Ainsworth. Not one person truly believed she could inherit the title.
But now, Zova had died suddenly, leaving the seat of power wide open.
By simple reason, by the natural order, it should have gone to Nia.
She herself likely believed so. But reality was never so kind.
Dangling in front of them was the seat of the head of one of the Four Great Noble Houses—the pinnacle of status and honor. Once that prize was within sight, everyone abandoned reason and clawed at it with all their might.
“Nia, that little girl? My son is far more suited to inherit Lord Zova’s legacy!”
“Ha! If your ugly brat takes over, Ainsworth will collapse! My sweet son should be the one to lead as the next head!”
“You fools! The only rightful heir is my daughter! Among the main house, she alone carries the strongest blood of the Great Elder!”
“Hmph, a concubine’s child? Don’t make me laugh...”
“What did you just say?! Say that again if you dare!”
It was a family feud so vicious it would put any daytime drama to shame.
Well... that was only natural. The Ainsworth family had an enormous number of relatives.
This was all thanks to Zova himself, who, desperate to obtain the <Primordial Flame> as soon as possible, forged ties left and right, encouraging marriages and childbearing without restraint.
Some factions within the main house secretly plotted to exclude Nia.
Naturally, the branch families weren’t about to sit quietly either.
They schemed for even the smallest slice of the Ainsworth inheritance, meddling in every way they could.
By the way, all of this information had been gathered by Sugar, one of Nihil’s combatants, who now served as my personal intelligence operative.
Exhausted by the bloody infighting, Nia finally followed my last instruction: “If you find yourself truly at a loss, investigate the Chamber of Fusion at the lowest level.”
And there she discovered—
“Th-this... this can’t be...!”
—Zova’s will.
Yes, the one I had forced him to write, in anticipation of exactly this situation.
The will was immediately submitted to the appraisal bureau, where handwriting analysis, mana residue, and the blood-sealed stamp all confirmed it as genuine.
Naturally—it was, after all, something I had made him write right in front of me. A freshly made document.
And just like that, the tide turned.
Nia secured her place as the official heir.
One week after Zova’s state funeral, today, her Inheritance Ceremony was held.
Inside the vast Ainsworth hall, nobles of every rank related to Nia had assembled.
The ceremony was overseen by none other than the Heisenberg family.
My father, Daphnes, was too busy with official duties to attend, so my mother Layla and I stood in as representatives.
This inheritance ceremony is of utmost importance. With it, Nia will become the head of House Ainsworth, and I will bring Ainsworth under my control. I have to keep my eyes sharp to make sure no idiotic noble tries to interfere...
Thanks to the Heisenbergs’ supervision, the ceremony proceeded without a hitch—until at last, the pivotal moment arrived.
“Then now, we shall commence the Rite of Succession.”
At the hands of the Ainsworth head butler, the three family heirlooms—the Heavenly Scepter, the Crown of Eternity, and the Primordial Vestments—were bestowed upon Nia.
Holding the stately scepter, wearing the silver crown, and clad in the pure white vestments, she looked so beautiful she could have been framed as a portrait on the spot. I couldn’t help but stare.
“—Hereby, I declare Nia le Ainsworth as the twelfth head of House Ainsworth.”
At the butler’s words, Nia offered a graceful bow to the nobles gathered in the hall.
And yet—no applause followed.
“““...”””
The cold gazes pierced through her like arrows.
To them, she was nothing but a decorative heir, a pitiful sacrifice once offered to Zova.
None of her relatives truly acknowledged her as the new head.
...This is... a bit too cruel, even for them.
Here she was, dressed so splendidly on what should have been her shining day, and not one person celebrated her.
I hated this sort of thing—parading someone as a spectacle, treating them like an object of ridicule. It made my skin crawl.
“...”
So I brought my hands together and clapped once, silently.
My mother, for some reason overjoyed, smiled brightly and followed with an enthusiastic applause, as if she had been waiting for it.
The other attendees glanced our way, their faces twisted as though they had swallowed bitter worms, but reluctantly joined in.
Of course they did.
This inheritance ceremony was being witnessed by none other than House Heisenberg.
To snub Nia’s succession and disrupt the proceedings here would have been a direct insult to our family.
If they let their petty malice go any further and incurred Heisenberg’s displeasure, they could no longer survive as nobles.
Even childish harassment had its limits.
...Still... hehehe, what a delightful view this is...
\
Watching the nobles clap against their will at my unspoken command—now that was truly satisfying.
...Oops. There it is again, that “wicked thought”...
Now and then, something like the original Hollow’s consciousness surfaced faintly.
It never controlled me, but every so often, a “black delight” bubbled up inside me.
Laziness and arrogance + wicked thoughts + overpowering lust—that’s the set of “debuffs” assigned to the original Hollow...
The laziness and arrogance I had long since reshaped into humility and diligence.
The occasional wicked thought stayed within the bounds of my self-control.
Which means the real problem... is still that overwhelming lust...
I needed countermeasures against beautiful women. Sooner rather than later.
In any case, the inheritance ceremony concluded.
The headship of House Ainsworth was successfully passed to Nia.
Heh. With this, Ainsworth now belongs to me—in both name and reality...!
For the main route’s conquest, I had gained yet another powerful weapon.
Tighten the cord of your helmet even in victory.
I couldn’t afford to let down my guard. It was time to continue the conquest of Chapter Two of the Original.
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