I Became the Son of a Corrupt Lord, so I’ll Enjoy an Easy Life in Another World ~but Please Stop Revering Me as a “Saint”!~

Stage 3-11. Dark Attribute Magic

With that, I carefully started from the first page.

Reina seemed to agree and also focused her attention on the book.

How much time passed, I couldn’t say.

The room was silent except for the sound of turning pages and our breathing.

When we finally finished one book, my body was stiff from sitting.

“Mm… Mmm…”

Reina stretched on my lap.

Staying in the same position for so long, every movement to loosen her muscles came with a soft, sensual sound, which wasn’t great for my focus.

Suppressing my reactions, I shared my thoughts on the dark attribute magic.

“…Terrifying.”

“…Yes. Every spell utterly disregards human dignity.”

I felt ashamed for imagining this magic could be used to create some hypnotic harem.

Dark attribute magic was far more fearsome.

Its core lay in manipulating the target’s mind.

Taking over their will—brainwashing.

There were also spells that implanted the sensation of death directly into the brain, making the victim believe they had died.

And the most horrifying of all—

“…[Possessive Reincarnation]. So, if you can control someone else’s mind, then transferring your own mind is no issue?”

“Exactly. I wondered how such an impossible thing as moving one’s mind into another body could be done, but it’s through dark attribute magic…”

This is what Frone is trying to do.

To transfer her mind into another’s body.

Essentially, spiritual reincarnation.

The most frightening part is that the original mind in the vessel is overwritten and erased from existence.

Alive yet dead.

Frone intends to wield this horrifying magic merely to obtain a younger body, targeting Reina and now aiming for Mashiro.

Just thinking about it filled me with seething anger.

She views others’ lives as expendable, a mindset that allows such monstrous actions.

If I hadn’t entrusted Mashiro to Alice and Father that day, the thought chills me.

“Frone’s judgment is simple: ‘Me or not me.’ If it’s not herself, she doesn’t care.”

“That might explain her prowess on the battlefield…”

She likely didn’t care about allies or enemies dying.

It wouldn’t affect her performance.

Just satisfying her desires by killing enemies.

“…Heh. Whoever first called Frone a hero clearly missed the mark.”

“Absolutely. She’s no hero, just a deranged monster.”

We were in complete agreement.

Who knows what tricks that monster will try?

The recent letter from Duke Juke was a reminder not to lower our guard.

“Let’s call it a day. We’ll continue tomorrow.”

“Agreed. I’m starving after using so much focus.”

“Then let’s adjust the menu for tonight—something hearty with lots of meat. It’s good to indulge now and then.”

“Sounds perfect. I’ll make sure to eat plenty.”

Leaving the books as they were for tomorrow, we exited the archive.

Just then, we saw Father walking toward us.

Though he wasn’t rushing, it was unusual.

“Father, is something the matter?”

“It’s dinnertime, and you hadn’t returned, so I thought I’d check on you. Any progress?”

“Some, though it’s not complete.”

“I see. By the way, you two…”

“Yes, Father?”

“Did you two… really behave yourselves?”

“”We did not! (We absolutely did!)””

Our voices echoed through the underground passage.