The Villainous Son Loves His Mother - Chapter 66

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The day after Hein and Eugen’s Wand Duel, rumors swirled among the nobles of the Imperial Capital.
The fact that fifteen-year-old Hein Sera Aster had defeated Vice Grand Mage Eugen dominated conversations.
That day, nobles gathered at a Marquis’s Residence in the eastern district of the Imperial Capital, eagerly discussing Hein’s remarkable feat.
Though the luncheon was held in a vast garden boasting a renowned rose garden, no one paid attention to the flowers.

“How should we evaluate Lord Eugen?”

“I heard he himself proposed the Wand Duel. What a complete disgrace!”

“No, no, in truth, even Lord Eugen couldn’t help but kneel when the First Fire transformed into that—a sun-like form.”

The nobles spoke excitedly, their voices tinged with excitement.
Though the opulent gathering included nobles from the Prime Minister’s faction, even they seemed uneasy.

“To think Lord Eugen, the Prime Minister’s most trusted confidant, could suffer such a humiliating defeat…”

“They must have been planning to bring Hein Sera Aster into their fold. Eugen’s failure has ruined everything.”

Their hushed whispers betrayed a palpable sense of crisis.
The recent Wand Duel had not only catapulted Hein, the rising star of House Aster, into the limelight but had also dealt a severe blow to the Prime Minister’s faction.
And naturally, no one felt this blow more keenly than Digitalis herself.
The morning after Eugen’s hasty retreat, prominent nobles from Digitalis’s faction were summoned to her office at the Prime Minister’s Office.
As they entered the room, the oppressive atmosphere immediately clouded their faces.
Still, someone had to break the ice to move the conversation forward.

“…Prime Minister, regarding Lord Eugen’s matter, how do you intend to resolve this moving forward?”

The Marquis, his graying hair neatly combed back and looking haggard, took the lead.
Digitalis sat upright in her chair, her usual flawless beauty on full display, but her expression was utterly devoid of warmth.

“For now, rumors that he might be removed from his position as Vice Grand Mage have already begun circulating within the Imperial Court Mage Corps, which His Imperial Majesty oversees. Though I doubt His Majesty will act on his own initiative…”

The moment she spoke, several nobles exchanged glances.

“What are Lord Habakiri’s thoughts on this matter, as the Chief Mage of the Imperial Court?”

Digitalis wielded immense power as the Imperial Chancellor, but directly interfering in the personnel decisions of the Imperial Court Mage Corps could provoke strong opposition from other noble factions and knightly orders.
The worst-case scenario was incurring Habakiri’s enmity.
Habakiri, the “Omnipotent Wizard,” generally showed no interest in politics, devoting himself entirely to the pursuit of magic.
Eugen was one of Habakiri’s disciples.
Though merely one among hundreds of disciples scattered across the Empire, a disciple was still a disciple.
Even if Eugen were dismissed, Habakiri would likely remain silent and inactive. However, that didn’t mean one could freely trample on his reputation.
After all, Habakiri had once secured a position at the academy for Helga, another disciple among those hundreds.
Despite his political indifference, Habakiri clearly cared about his disciples.

“Whatever we decide to do with Eugen, we will naturally consult Lord Habakiri first.”

If we were to turn against him, we risk turning hundreds of Habakiri’s disciples into enemies as well. That must be avoided at all costs.

“Could it be… that Lord Eugen will remain as he is?”

A noble asked hesitantly.
Digitalis replied calmly, her expression unchanging.

“Well, who knows what will happen? To be honest, I’m disappointed in him. But I will proceed in my own way.”

“B-but Prime Minister, if things continue like this, won’t our faction fall behind the Demi-Human Faction, led by House Aster? Several noble families within the Demi-Human Faction have already sent protests regarding the Racial Hierarchy Act. Fortunately, House Aster has yet to issue any statement—”

The man, an earl, couldn’t hide his anxiety.
The dark-skinned man with thick-rimmed glasses wore an expression that betrayed a mixture of urgency and irritation.

“We will follow the Prime Minister’s policy, but we would appreciate specific measures,”

Another noble chimed in, pressing the matter, and the atmosphere in the room grew even heavier.
Digitalis calmly met their gazes. After a moment, she gently straightened the documents on the table.

“My policy remains unchanged. I still believe Demi-Humans should be purged from the Imperial Capital and the heart of the Empire. However, there’s no need to rush.”

“But…”

“Given the current circumstances, taking drastic action would be unwise. We should observe quietly and seek vulnerabilities within their ranks.”

Silence descended once more.
The assembled nobles frowned, as if her response fell short of their expectations.
Since the Prime Minister had spoken with such finality, they likely feared being glared at if they pressed the matter further.
One by one, they let out deep sighs before grudgingly saying, “Understood,” and leaving the office.
The last to remain was a stout Marquis, who lowered his head with suppressed anger, silently protesting to Digitalis before departing.
Once the door closed behind the last of them, Digitalis slowly leaned back in her chair.
The large clock on the wall ticked with mechanical precision.

“Haa…”

Digitalis exhaled softly, as if muttering to herself.
She was utterly weary of weakness.
Above all else, Digitalis despised weakness.
The weakness Eugen had displayed had even made her feel nauseous.
It wasn’t about his magical skill; it was about his very being.
And the nobles of her own faction as well.
They flocked together because they were weak.
Digitalis wanted to become strong.

In every sense of the word.

She craved raw power, political influence, economic might, and charisma—anything that could be called “power.”
Yet she knew deep down that she could never truly become strong.
If she were truly strong, she wouldn’t waste her time on pointless pursuits like Demi-Human extermination.
But Digitalis hated Demi-Humans.
They were stronger and more beautiful than humans.
The more she hated them, the more her own weakness was laid bare, yet she couldn’t help but hate them.

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Digitalis Ira Salman hadn’t always been driven by a thirst for power.
Her hatred of weakness stemmed from an incident she experienced as a young girl.
Digitalis was born into the Salman Family, a merchant clan with a mansion in the northwest district of the Imperial Capital. Though not quite noble, they were a well-known family in the city.
This was due to their ancestral warehouse and long history of profiting from trade.
Yet for Digitalis, born into the Salman Family, the size of the mansion or the vastness of the warehouse offered no solace.
Her father, Gaius Salman, possessed no exceptional talent as a true merchant.
Nevertheless, Gaius had managed to establish a respectable position thanks to a single outstanding ability:

The talent for flattery.

He could lavish praise, elevate others, sometimes even shed tears, or offer humble smiles, all while subtly probing for their desires and skillfully currying favor.
It’s only natural for a merchant to be somewhat affable when conducting business and negotiations.
But in Gaius’s case, his affability was excessive, overshadowing the very integrity that should have been the cornerstone of his trade.
Could a merchant who excels at selling flattery rather than goods truly be considered a legitimate businessman?

There are limits to flattery.

And when it comes to selling his own daughter’s body, there’s no way to call that legitimate.
Gaius had no concept of cherishing his beloved daughter.
To him, Digitalis was merely a beautiful tool.
From the time Digitalis was barely ten years old, high-ranking nobles and wealthy merchants began frequenting the Salman Family’s trading house.
Gaius would lure them into the inner chambers of his mansion with hints of lucrative deals, then “use” Digitalis as part of their entertainment.

It started small.

Gaius would seat young Digitalis next to guests in the living room and instruct her to speak to them in a sweet, endearing voice.
The men would continue their business discussions while watching the child’s smile, sometimes loosening their purse strings under the gaze of her seemingly innocent eyes.
Gaius watched this with smug satisfaction.
Eventually, talk of using Digitalis more directly began to surface.
One wealthy merchant, frustrated with negotiations that weren’t going his way, whispered to Gaius,

“Bring your daughter to my room.”

The request was already deeply disturbing.
Yet Gaius silently agreed.
Unable to finalize the deal through his own skills alone, he offered Digitalis as a last resort.
That night, Digitalis remained terrified, barely understanding what was happening.
An adult hand forced its way in.
Foul breath whispered in my ear.
Tears streamed down my face, and I couldn’t make a sound.
Yet Gaius, who was present, made no move to embrace and protect his daughter.
Instead, he flashed a servile smile at the man, seized Digitalis by the wrist, and offered her up.

“This way, sir. Please, have your way with her…”

That scene left an indelible scar on Digitalis’s heart, one that would never fade.
And it was only the beginning.
Sometimes it was a wealthy merchant, other times a powerful figure from the city, and still other times a vile group of nobles.
Within the mansion, under Gaius’s very gaze, Digitalis was repeatedly treated as a “commodity” to be toyed with by these men.
When the men tired of her, she was discarded, only to be reused when another customer arrived.
She tried to resist.
She clawed, bit, and thrashed, even as she was beaten and kicked.
But the strength of a girl not yet ten years old was no match for grown men. Her resistance only brought harsher treatment.
When Gaius later learned of her struggles, he would scold her:

“Don’t cause trouble. You need to be more charming.”

Digitalis thought from the bottom of her heart:
Why?
Isn’t he my father?
How can he calmly do something so cruel?
No matter how much she cried and screamed, her voice never reached anyone.
Gradually, she began to give up on everything.
It’s pointless to scream or cry anymore.
No one in this house will ever help me.
Digitalis cursed her own powerlessness relentlessly.
There had been a mother.
Her name was Marsha Salman, and Digitalis faintly remembered her as a beautiful woman.
When Digitalis was young, her mother still hadn’t given up on Gaius and worked tirelessly to support the family.
But Gaius’s ugliness—his attempts to use his own daughter to gain wealth and status—eventually shattered Marsha’s hope completely.

“You’re insane. Something’s terribly wrong with you.”

When Digitalis turned eleven, Marsha left the house.
Her mother’s words of concern for Digitalis lingered until the end, but perhaps her own heart was on the verge of breaking. In the end, she vanished without doing anything.
Digitalis felt that her mother was just as “weak” as she was.
Unable to stop her father’s violent outbursts, unable to take her daughter away, she had simply fled the house alone.
Even if she had tried to escape with Digitalis, her father would never have allowed it.
Still, Digitalis couldn’t help but see her mother as weak.
It was then that she first felt a deep-seated loathing for weakness.
It felt as if she had been confronted with the harsh truth that there was no place in this world for the weak.
After her mother left, Gaius treated Digitalis even more blatantly like property.
He forced her to change her clothes to suit the customers’ tastes and coached her on how to speak to keep them entertained.

Digitalis no longer screamed

Silently, she offered her body to the men’s desires, gritting her teeth and enduring.
Instead, she calmly observed the men’s expressions and actions. She understood their behavior far better now than when she had been crying and screaming.
In other words, the more consumed the men were by their desires, the easier they were to manipulate.
If she pretended to be frightened, they would grow smug. If she feigned infatuation, they would impulsively shower her with gifts.
Though Digitalis was the one being used as a tool, she saw the men as mere pawns in her own game.
Then one night, at Gaius’s mansion, when a young nobleman embraced Digitalis, a sudden resolve hardened in her heart

I won’t be used by these men. I’ll use them.

This man, her father, the guests—they were all slaves to their own desires.
They craved money, women, and power.
If she exploited those weaknesses, couldn’t she manipulate them endlessly?
Come to think of it, Gaius had built his success as a merchant precisely by using such methods.
But he was too narrow-minded.
Digitalis realized that her mother was merely using her as a pawn.
With this understanding, she gradually began to actively flirt with the male customers.
Yet she was still a girl, not even twelve years old.
Her youth, rather than deterring them, only fueled their twisted desires.
Soon, she began memorizing the financial situations and family trees that surfaced during their conversations, analyzing them in her own way.
She glimpsed various truths: a wealthy merchant teetering on the brink of bankruptcy due to reckless speculation, a nobleman drowning in debt from purchasing his title.
She learned how these weaknesses could be used to control others.
Thus, while hating weakness, Digitalis simultaneously mastered the art of exploiting it.

・
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One day, Digitalis paused before a mirror and quietly scrutinized her reflection.
Slender limbs, a mature face, and almond-shaped eyes.
She recognized that she possessed all the qualities to be called beautiful.
But only disgust welled up in her chest.
Because of this beauty, I’m being danced around like a doll in the palms of men.
No, that’s not it.
I’m being danced around because I’m weak.
Because I’m weak, I’m suffering like this without anyone’s help.
Because I’m weak, even my mother left me.

And she began to suspect that this very weakness might be the essence of humanity.
If that were true, she had to change.
If she remained weak, her life would be nothing more than being trampled upon by others.
Though still young, Digitalis understood the abnormality of her environment.
She yearned to escape this place, to destroy everything, and to live according to her own will.
But to do that, she needed power.
Thus, she remained in the Salman Family, exploiting her father and his guests. By the time she reached adolescence, she had become known in aristocratic circles as a small monster who possessed a comprehensive grasp of the underworld’s secrets.
No matter how she wielded her beauty as a weapon, schemed, or forced her will, she felt neither love nor peace.
Instead, a cold emptiness had taken root, along with an unwavering contempt and hatred for weakness.

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A moist sound echoed through the study.
And the hushed, ragged breaths of a woman.
It was Digitalis.
With each movement of the fingers probing her lower abdomen, she stifled a moan.
The fire from that day burned vividly in her mind.
The blazing flames, as radiant as the sun, had stirred a sense of the mystical even in her, who knew little of magic.
But more than the fire itself, she feared the fact that a human being had created it.
There, in that fire, was the “strength” that stood in stark contrast to weakness—the very strength she had relentlessly craved.

“Ugh… ah… aah!”

Just before the climax, the fire had taken the form of Hein Sera Astell, searing itself into her memory.