I'm the Only One With a Different Genre - Chapter 145

Chapter 145
Do You Have Proof She’s the Duke’s Daughter?

***

‘If she turns out not to be Her Grace’s bloodline this time… I’ll have to prepare some drinks.’

Ever since her comrade, with whom she had shared many drinks and laughter, passed away yesterday, she could no longer find joy in alcohol. Even the temporary comfort it provided had become painful for her. Yet there were moments when she would indulge in a drink.

Those moments were the day her child and husband went missing, and the day her cherished subordinate entered eternal rest. The butler recalled the sight of the Duke swallowing bitter alcohol, drowning in her sense of loss. The desolate pain in her hunched figure felt as dry as the autumn wind sweeping over a barren field.

‘But if—if, by any chance, that young lady truly is Her Grace’s bloodline…’

It would bring immense hope to the one who has been running alone, ever so close to the end, racing toward death.

Wishing for the story to conclude with a sweet, hopeful ending, the butler hastened his steps.

***

The commotion of tears had passed, and it was now late afternoon. After sending the messenger bird, the butler had finished handling some small tasks and prepared a set of tea known for its calming effects, heading toward Lian’s room.

When he knocked, a voice from inside told him to come in.

“Excuse me.”

As the butler carefully opened the door and entered, he saw Lian sitting on a long white sofa, with Iris asleep, her head resting on his lap.

Her eyes were red and swollen, evidence that she had cried for quite some time even after the butler had left the room. Judging by the fact that there were no tear streaks on her face, it seemed someone had wiped them away. Smiling gently, the butler approached the sofa.

“I’ve brought some tea that’s good for calming the nerves… Should I prepare it a bit later?”

“When Iris wakes up, please.”

“Understood.”

Having served Lian for two weeks now, the butler had grown accustomed to such conversations. Without making a sound, he placed the tea tray on the table in front of the sofa. Then, with a graceful bow, he spoke.

“May I have a brief conversation with you?”

“Oh, yes! Of course!”

Startled by the sight of the much older butler bowing deeply, Lian quickly gestured to the opposite sofa with both hands. The butler offered a word of thanks before sitting across from him, his face lighting up with a warm smile, reminiscent of a kind grandfather.

“You two seem to get along incredibly well.”

True to his role as the Duke’s butler, he didn’t ask any direct or intrusive questions, instead using light conversation to ease the mood. The two exchanged trivial small talk for a while. Once the atmosphere had warmed, the butler paused for a moment before speaking again.

“I have one question, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Feel free.”

The butler straightened his posture and locked eyes with Lian, his gaze serious.

“On what basis do you believe Miss Iris to be Her Grace’s bloodline?”

“…!”

The old butler’s intense gaze bore into Lian, both scorching and cold at once, as if it could burn through him. Lian felt his mind go blank.

‘Basis…? Proof…? I don’t have anything like that… what do I say?’

Did Lian come to the Duke’s residence without any thought or plan?

That wasn’t the case.

‘In the original story, the Duke immediately recognized Iris as his daughter just by looking at a photograph, so I thought proof or evidence wouldn’t be necessary.’

To summarize briefly:

In the original story, a knight of the Duke’s household, Panton, found Iris, who was presumed to be the Duke’s daughter, and rescued her. The kind-hearted Iris brought Lian along with her.

Once the original Lian discovered that Iris was the Duke’s daughter, he claimed to be her brother, using their white hair and golden eyes as proof, and indulged in the sweet taste of power.

But then, Lian, realizing he could inherit the family if Iris wasn’t around, tried to kill her. As a result, Iris fled the Duke’s household and began living as a fugitive.

When the Duke later returned and saw a photograph recorded in a crystal ball, he became enraged. The image of his daughter was so clearly etched in his mind.

Despite having a wicked heart, the original Lian was incompetent, and when the Duke found out about his attempt to kill Iris, he was brutally killed by the Duke.

Knowing this flow of the original story, Lian had believed that simply bringing Iris to the estate would be enough for the Duke to gladly accept her. However, that was only possible if the Duke was present in the castle.

‘Of all times… why did she have to be away now?’

Sweat began to drip down Lian’s forehead as his eyes darted nervously. He desperately needed to come up with an answer, but nothing substantial came to mind.

‘If I can’t answer here, won’t they think I’m a con artist and kick me out?’

Everything would be resolved once the Duke returned. However, that was a different issue from the one Lian faced now. If he were branded a fraud at this moment, the Duke might look at Iris with prejudice once she came back. Worse, the Duke might mistake her for an imposter and draw her sword.

In this dark fantasy world, it wasn’t an impossible scenario.

‘There has to be a way out of this…!’

Lian’s eyes instinctively drifted toward his own hand, as if expecting the cursed sword to appear and miraculously solve the problem, just as it always had whenever he faced an insurmountable challenge.

Though his hand was smooth and unmarked, as he had concealed the sigil for everyday life, he found himself staring at it subconsciously. As he gazed at his hands resting on his knees, a sudden thought flashed through his mind.

‘But this…’

The solution that came to him wasn’t ideal, but he had no better option. Gritting his teeth, he made up his mind.

‘If I’m going to do it, I might as well do it properly.’

The butler, observing Lian’s determined expression, let out an inward sigh of pity.

‘Ah… So, in the end, he must have told a lie without any real basis, just wanting his sister to grow up in a good household.’

Seeing Lian sweating, his eyes darting back and forth and biting his lip, the butler looked at him as if he were facing an unsolvable problem. He couldn’t help but feel conflicted.

‘…With some gentle guidance, I can teach him. Even if it’s a lie, it’s one told for his sister’s sake, and he’s still young.’

Just as the butler had finished organizing his thoughts and preparing to deal with the situation—

“Actually…”

Lian lifted his head and looked the butler squarely in the eyes, his expression serious. Their gazes met—Lian’s eyes, a little brighter than Iris’s, shimmering like gold. The butler had assumed Lian was about to confess to his lies. That assumption was shattered in less than a second.

Fwoosh!

“…!”

As Lian stretched out his left hand, the divine sigil began to glow on the back of it. At that moment, a pure and sacred energy enveloped Lian, as if light from the heavens had descended upon him.

His white hair shimmered as though bathed in divine light, and his golden eyes glistened more brilliantly than any jewel, their depths as mysterious and profound as a starry night sky.

The holy aura illuminated the surroundings, announcing Lian’s presence to the world. It was as warm as the first sunlight at dawn and as mystical as the starlight in the night sky. The butler, awestruck by the magnificent sight, stood frozen in place. It was as if he were witnessing one of the divine messengers from ancient legends.

As the light gradually faded, the divine energy receded back into the sigil, which now glowed faintly. The sigil had grown more intricate and elaborate, likely due to the increased number of followers. Lian averted his gaze from the ever-growing sigil and looked back at the butler.

The butler’s normally composed expression was now one of disbelief, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. Even as he stood there, stunned, his lips moved slightly, as if he had something to say, which Lian found somewhat amusing.

“W-what… is this…?”

Lian felt a signal flash through his mind like a neon sign.

‘Now’s my chance to wrap this up!’

Without missing a beat, Lian switched into high gear, speaking rapidly as if he were an experienced salesman pitching insurance, study guides, or mobile phones.

“You asked how I could be certain that Iris is the Duke’s, Her Grace’s, bloodline, correct? To get straight to the point, it is thanks to divine guidance. As you saw just now, I have been chosen by the gods. The gods told me to bring the only child of the Hero to the place she belongs. And so, following the gods’ guidance, I found Iris and escaped that wretched land of the Demon King. Ah, you might be wondering why I’m only telling you this now, but that’s because—(omitted)…”

The butler, who had spoken to all sorts of nobles—from the most corrupt to the most manipulative—had never experienced a conversation that left him this mentally exhausted.

Lian’s voice was calm, but the speed at which he spoke was overwhelming. However, every word was enunciated so clearly that each one lodged itself firmly into the butler’s brain. He understood the words, but the situation made it impossible to fully grasp what was being said.

With his modern-day consultation skills, which could effortlessly bewilder anyone, Lian left the butler in a dazed state, reduced to mechanically nodding and saying, “Yes, yes.”

After several minutes, Lian wiped the sweat from his brow and asked,

“Phew… So, does that explanation work as proof?”

“Y-Yes, more than enough.”

The butler’s once neat and tidy hair was now disheveled, and his face showed clear signs of fatigue.

Had he harbored any ill will toward Lian, he would have been subjected to days of mind-numbing explanations until blood poured from his ears. That was how mentally exhausting Lian’s speech had been.

“Well, I-I must go now, as I have pressing matters to attend to.”

“Yes, please take care.”

The butler staggered out of the room, and Lian smiled with a peculiar sense of victory. As he chuckled to himself, he suddenly remembered Iris and looked down.

End of Chapter.