Chapter 556: Tongue

“Are you perhaps afraid of Miss Jane?”

The man frowned at Oliver’s unexpected remark.

To think, as a proud noble of Gallos, he would be asked such an insulting question…

But if he got angry, it would be admitting the truth. So, he forced a neutral expression, pretending not to care about the words of a lowly Warlock.

“…I don’t know what you’re suddenly trying to say. Why would I be afraid of a lady? I was merely curious about how you met-”

“-You’re quite fearful, aren’t you?”

Oliver said something puzzling.

“…Fearful?”

“Yes, fear. Aggressive or cruel people… It might sound contradictory, but they are often the most fearful. Their aggression is just a defense mechanism to hide that fear.”

Oliver spoke from experience.

Students of the Joseph family, backstreet thugs, wizards—people came in many forms, but at their core, they were all the same.

They hid their fear and weakness behind cruelty, like beasts puffing up their bodies.

As Oliver spoke, he looked directly at the man, and the man looked back into those unfathomable eyes.

He suddenly felt an uncanny and unsettling sensation, like Oliver was seeing right through him.

Was it because of that feeling? The man’s well-trained expression and voice, honed in Gallos society, began to waver.

“…I truly don’t understand what you’re saying. Why would I fear a lady?”

“Who knows? I’m curious too. Why are you afraid?”

Oliver asked back, making it sound like the truth, which irritated the man.

“…Haha, I’m merely impressed by her skills despite being a woman-”

“-Ah, so that’s it.”

Oliver tilted his head, as if realizing something.

“You envy and fear Miss Jane’s abilities.”

“…”

The man’s poker face cracked. Oliver had hit the mark.

“But that’s strange. I understand envying Miss Jane’s skills, but I don’t see why you would fear them.”

Oliver rubbed his cheek and chin with his left hand.

“Usually, fear arises from physical or mental danger, or the threat of it.”

Oliver’s hand sliced through the air.

“I’m curious how Miss Jane’s abilities threaten you.”

Oliver finished speaking and moved closer to the man.

The man instinctively wanted to step back, but he felt like a mouse trapped before a snake under Oliver’s piercing gaze.

Oliver kept staring at the man, who now felt like those unfathomable eyes were dissecting everything inside him.

Utterly helpless, fearful, and filled with shame.

As Oliver kept looking at him, he spoke.

“…You’re proud of your noble status, but on the other hand, you seem anxious. I can see it.”

Truth.

“Well, conflicts between nobles and the commoners in Gallos are severe… but that’s not the only reason.”

Another truth.

“The real source of your anxiety is yourself. It’s an internal, not external factor. It’s you.”

Yet another truth.

Shockingly and terrifyingly, Oliver could examine everything in the man’s depths just by looking at him.

This was partly due to his enhanced vision, but also because of the shadow puppetry Sleeping Beauty had shown him.

Through those shadow plays, Oliver had gained a deeper understanding of emotions, having perceived countless emotions and memories.

But the biggest factor was his determination. Not just to read emotions but to deconstruct and see all the way through them, disregarding the will and dignity of his counterpart.

Oliver continued speaking.

“It’s funny. You take pride in being a noble but don’t trust yourself. Do you think you’re incompetent?”

“…”

“Then I understand.”

“…Enough.”

“You see Miss Jane as a threat and are afraid of her. It’s painful to see someone with talents and abilities you lack. I know that too.”

Oliver recalled Duncan’s memories and feelings that he had indirectly experienced via the Filgarett.

“…Shut up.”

“You might be fine physically, but mentally, it’s a different story. It can make you question your own self-worth if it’s severe… That’s why you fear Miss Jane. But I don’t understand. You must have seen people like her before, so why is it only her-”

“-I told you to SHUT UP!!”

The man couldn’t stand it any longer and screamed, as Oliver’s words cut into a deeply personal matter.

His patience was gone.

His shout was so loud that everyone in the hall turned to look at him, and they saw it.

His reddened face, tears welling up from the shame, and the open anger on his face. He could barely breathe.

A clear sign that Oliver had only spoken the truth.

But the man no longer cared. He struggled to catch his breath, jerking his hand at Oliver and yelling.

“How… How dare you, you lowly Warlock! You dare speak to me like that?!! …What do you know about me!!”

The man screamed in rage from deep within, feeling that someone had trespassed into a most protected space.

But Oliver remained composed.

“I apologize if I offended you. But Warlocks can see through emotions, so I can understand. Especially with someone like yourself.”

Jane, who had been silently observing, was startled.

Oliver occasionally spoke carelessly due to his nature, but he had never done so with malice.

Malice that degrades and tramples others.

But now something was different. Even Jane, who tried to see Oliver in the best light, felt his malice.

A will to hurt someone.

Jane wondered what was happening, but frankly, even Oliver didn’t fully understand the reason.

It might be that he was exhausted. After the hardships he faced while searching for the Flesh Cook’s legacy, he still hadn’t fully recovered.

Now, facing a man who came with ill intent, trying to provoke Jane, he just wanted to do this.

Even the polite Puppet had a deep dislike for it, just as Oliver himself did. He wanted to expose and humiliate that sensitive, hidden part of him completely.

He knew it wasn’t a good thing to do, but somehow… It was getting harder to restrain himself.

The man, who took on Oliver’s malice, gritted his teeth and spoke. He seemed deeply wounded.

“Someone like me…?”

“Yes.”

His instant response broke the man’s patience.

“You filthy Warlock…!! How dare you! You, arrogant enough to think just because a brothel girl mentioned you, you can talk to a noble like that-”

“-You grow particularly hateful when you mention those ladies.”

Oliver showed no empathy, responding just as calmly as before, with the same detached tone.

Like observing a lab animal, he meticulously dug into the man’s interior, targeting the most vulnerable part.

And it seemed he hit the mark again, as the man flinched, radiating fear. It was as if facts had been exposed that he desperately didn’t want anyone to know.

Oliver opened his mouth.

“Perhaps… about your mo-”

-Thump.

Before Oliver could finish, someone gently covered his mouth.

It was Jane.

***

Oliver turned his head, following the hand now covering his mouth.

There stood Jane, and Oliver found himself locking eyes with her.

“…”

Surprised by her unexpected action, Oliver simply stared at Jane, who calmly returned his gaze.

“…”

Without saying a word, she seemed to convey something to Oliver with her eyes and emotions. She shook her head softly, urging him to stop.

Her concern for Oliver was clear.

Oliver silently stared back at Jane, then looked around at the many people watching him.

Just a few minutes ago, it seemed like he was fitting in here, but now, they all looked at Oliver with wariness and fear, revealing their negative emotions.

He had an idea why.

It must have been the conversation earlier with the man, a dialogue where his tiredness and irritation led him to lose control.

Oliver only then realized that he had made a mistake.

He had come here not alone, but with Millieu, and he had also mentioned being friends with Jane.

Just as he thought he had made a big mistake, a staff member’s voice echoed through the hall.

“His Excellency, Lord Armand, the Chancellor of Gallos and Knight Cardinal, has arrived!!”

It was even louder than when Oliver and Millieu had arrived.

But it wasn’t just the staff’s voice that had changed. The reaction of the dignified nobles, who had been chatting freely, also shifted.

When Oliver and Millieu had arrived, they had looked on with curiosity, calculation, prejudice, wariness, arrogance… viewing everything from their own perspective. But now they all looked toward the main entrance, checking their attire and straightening their postures.

Grooming their clothes and adjusting their posture, that was the proof.

This wasn’t strange. After all, Armand, the Knight Cardinal known as a former Holy Knight, was the figure who practically ran Gallos’ state affairs on behalf of the Royal Family, and held a significant position within the Pater Church.

So such a reaction was quite natural.

Of course, Oliver wasn’t particularly moved by this.

“I’m sorry.”

On the contrary, Oliver focused his attention back on Jane, who was apologizing even though she’d just helped him avoid a misstep.

But priorities are priorities.

Instead of apologizing to Jane, Oliver adjusted his mood and prepared himself to greet the approaching Armand.

He saw that not just the nobles invited to the party, but also the Holy Knights stationed around the venue, were all prepared to greet the Knight Cardinal with proper decorum.

The difference was that they also showed genuine respect, both outwardly and inwardly.

“But I don’t see the Ironclad Holy Knight?”

Oliver thought to himself as he scanned the inside of the building with the Warlock’s Eye.

Oliver could remember the unique emotions each person had, like fingerprints, and there were no signs of the Holy Knight from the Verdant Forest inside the mansion.

“I’m pretty sure the Ironclad Holy Knight said he’d attend.”

Creaaak.

As Oliver was lost in thought, the mansion’s great doors opened, and a middle-aged man in his forties walked in.

The man had a wide forehead, vivid eyes, a distinctive mustache, and a kind appearance. With his broad shoulders and tall frame, he radiated strong vitality and holy power, befitting a former Holy Knight.

Far above even the Holy Knights that escorted him.

Some people couldn’t help but admire that imposing figure, including some of Millieu’s bosses.

Even for the bigwigs of Gallos’ underworld, it was rare to see a figure as prominent as the Chancellor, who was both the Knight Cardinal.

Oliver was equally astonished, though for a different reason.

The reason was none other than the fact that Oliver recognized the emotions and vitality of the Knight Cardinal Armand as that of the Ironclad Holy Knight.

Indeed, the Ironclad Holy Knight was Armand.

“Mr. Dave.”

As the nobles approached the Knight Cardinal, kissing his hand in greeting, a Holy Knight who had been guarding him like a shadow quietly approached Oliver from behind and whispered.

Oliver responded in silence, reading the knight’s emotions.

The Holy Knight spoke.

“Please follow me. There is someone who wishes to meet you.”

Oliver nodded silently. He had a pretty good idea of who it was.