“Did you just-”
“Like I said, my hand simply slipped.”
Noth gave a small shrug and stated his words as if he had only dropped a tissue or something insignificant. He looked between where his glass had shattered against the wall and where the table of refreshments were behind him, muttering to himself about whether or not he wanted to get another drink. This action understandably worried Marquise Tyrell, who was unsure if the seemingly unstable boy might go flinging more glasses at them, and so he once more came forward, trying to wrangle back control over the situation through his sheer authority.
“If you have such dangerous inclinations when you drink, then I suggest you ought to leave, boy. You’ll just be troubling everyone else here with that kind of behaviour.”
The teen paused for a moment and then let out a soft chuckle. His face was twisted with a look of ridicule, even though his mouth was slightly smiling.
“Well isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black? What, I can get food smacked directly out of my hands, but a bit of champagne spilling and a glass breaking without a single person being touched is too much? I suppose I must not understand since I was raised improperly, right?”
Noth looked at the Marquise’ mouth squirming and snorted. He leaned forward with a smile that looked like a cat who’d eaten the canary.
“Besides, how could I just leave? The Pope wants me here to give me a medal. I’m today’s main character, aren’t I?”
Noth knew such words were completely bullshit, but he didn’t care. Sure, he was in fact today’s focus, but it was far from truly being a celebratory event. If anything, everyone was only here to judge and ridicule the upstart who they felt had no right being amongst them, and the Pope had only used the medal as a pretext to get him into this boring situation. Perhaps even the medal itself would only serve the purpose of harming him in some way. He knew it, the Marquise pair most certainly knew it, and most of the onlookers probably knew it as well. But would such proud people be willing to say they had to perform in such an elaborate circus just to get the chance to bully him? Would they be pleased to announce that they were just throw-away monkeys for the Pope? Most likely not.
However, it seemed that there really was someone shameless enough to reply to Noth’s words.
Marquise Harold pulled Tyrell out of the way, moving him to the side as he came front and center before Noth. He gnashed his teeth, completely incensed by the rude boy’s actions, and he finally did what his instincts had been telling him to do for a while now; He once again tried to slap Noth. Instead of getting hit or dodging like he’d done the other times, though, the teen simply caught the wrist that was flying towards him as if he were bored. He looked at the man in front of him with an unimpressed gaze and sighed.
Noth’s eyes flicked towards the hand of his angel to the right. If he hadn’t stopped the Marquise’ hand when he did, the lovely angel that was reaching her hand out to meet the Marquise would have most assuredly done something. Noth had handled enough energy over the past few months to recognize the feeling of the energy through his bond beginning to move. Even if he couldn’t tell from just that, the annoyed look on her face along with the fact that she was actually going out of her way to touch him were plenty big enough signs that something was going to happen.
And Noth didn’t want to see what plans she had for this vile man.
Serris pouted when she realized that Noth had foiled her attempt. She moved a short distance away and crossed her arms, giving him a look as if she really couldn’t understand him. The teen gave her a small, soft smile in return. He knew how frustrated she must be. He could feel through her bond how riled up she always got when he started using her real powers, and the fact that she’d almost succeeded in getting him to do it but failed in the end must have been extremely irritating to her. Could he fault an angel of madness for her nature? No. In such a place full of odious people, it was probably incredibly hard to ignore the calling of her kind; He already knew that when she’d tried to goad him into killing everyone here the first time, and it would only be all the more true now.
Perhaps it was time he threw Serris a bone, for both their sakes.
It wasn’t like he’d forgotten or forgiven what the disgusting people had said.
Just because he was now in his right mind and more calm, it didn’t mean that he’d gotten over his anger towards them.
“Maybe… Maybe you were right. Maybe I do want to know.”
Serris perked up at his soft words, realizing they were for her from his eye contact and smile. Her pout lessened, and her arms loosened.
“Yes.”
The Marquise, who’d been struggling to break free from Noth’s hold all this time, twisted his face a bit, wondering what the madman in front of him must be muttering to himself. He didn’t have to wonder for long, though. Soon Noth’s gaze turned nonchalantly back towards him, causing Harold to flinch.
“What was it again? This man is Marquise Harold? And that man over there is Marquise Tyrell?”
Before, Harold’s face had looked panicked from the tight hold on his wrist, but now with the impolite way he was being talked to, his pride quickly took over any fear. He opened up his mouth to reprimand the boy for his rude way of speaking to his superiors, but before he could get a word out, Noth continued talking.
“I only managed to become a Count even though I think my [Gift] is pretty good. I wonder how good of [Gifts] the two of you must have, to have reached such high ranks?”
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Both of the Marquises' faces looked understandably flustered by the sudden remark. They’d falsely called him out for poor etiquette multiple times by now, but they never expected the boy to so straightforwardly commit such a major breach. No one would ever say such a thing in polite company, let alone in front of such a large crowd like this. And to have said it so directly… No one would be willing to let such words stand.
“What do you think you’re saying right now boy-?!”
“Do you know what I think they might be?”
Noth gave a brazen smile to the shouting Tyrell, almost like a carefree child who didn’t know any better about what he was doing. His giggling angel hugged his arm, quickly catching on to the game that Noth was playing, and whispered what he wanted to know into the teen’s ear. As he was fed information, Noth laughed and continued his bold words.
“I think you must be something like a [Great Diplomat], right? It’s quite a bit lower tiered than I’d think a Marquise should be, but I suppose anyone who’s doing something diplomatic should be of a higher rank of nobility, huh? Even if it is artificially boosted.”
“How dare you-”
“And you,”
Noth easily turned his head from the outraged Tyrell as if he weren’t the least bit important, and looked at the man whose arm he was still tightly holding.
“Wouldn’t it be funny if you were-”
The teen stopped his words and blinked, surprised at the [Gift] that he was hearing. His face screwed up into a sneering but amused look, as if he couldn’t believe it. He finally let go of Harold’s arm, instead using both his hands to loosely cover his mouth like he was desperately trying to stop himself from laughing.
“Hah, a [Superior Prospector]? Like… Like those old men from the children’s books?”
Logically, Noth could understand why the Marquise had been given such high nobility. It was actually quite an amazing thing to be such a high tiered [Prospector]. With his [Gift] he’d be able to find exceedingly valuable mines with ease, and should he even pitch in to the mining himself, he would be able to locate ore veins in mines that others might think to have gone dry. If anything, the man would be rich and could make the country rich as well, meaning that he was indispensable to Odessia, enough to receive such a grand noble title.
The problem, however, was that Noth knew of a very common fairy tale, one that almost everyone heard quite frequently as they grew up. In the tale the main character, an [Explorer], makes friends with a [Prospector], and the two of them go in search of new, rich lands to please their lords. It was a wonderful adventure story with a plot that appealed to children, especially the silly parts with the [Prospector] friend. He was an old, silly man, with missing teeth, ragged clothes, and crossed eyes. He did silly little dances, said silly things, and blundered and got the pair into trouble often. Even when his [Gift] would alert him to a nearby vein, it wouldn’t tell him exactly where, and sometimes they’d be searching an area for half a day before they’d realize they’d been looking in completely the wrong place, although it would inadvertently lead the two on wonderful adventures in the meanwhile.
It was such a popular story that the character tropes were used and referenced in many other types of media as well. Countless [Prospectors] were portrayed in the same way, and some children’s toy stores would make dolls that depicted a silly, ragged looking [Prospector]. It would be hard to stop most people from thinking of such a character when they heard of that [Gift], and it was a rare enough one that not many people would ever meet a [Prospector] who would ever disprove such a stereotype.
Even now that the words had come out of his mouth while Marquise Harold only looked more and more flustered, people’s gazes on the man were quickly turning to ridicule. Noth couldn’t help but snort at how easily people’s perceptions of someone changed once they learned about their [Gift]. It was quite a good thing that most people didn’t let their [Gifts] be known unless they had to. Such prejudice was ugly to have to witness or experience.
The onlookers easily had their eyes stolen away by the shocking news of Marquise Harold’s [Gift], but before that they’d been busy whispering and gossiping about Tyrell’s [Gift] as well. The idea that someone with an unimpressive sounding [Gift] was currently a Marquise, the highest noble station now that the Pope refused to make any Dukes, was quite insulting to the nobility. Many didn’t want to believe such a thing was true, and wanted to doubt Noth’s words. However, with the confident way Noth looked as he said it, and how immediately the Marquise recognized his words and got angry without even once refuting it, it wasn’t looking so good for the man. This, combined with the fact that there had already been rumours towards such a fact before, since [Diplomats] were so rare in their country and almost never reached a high tier, it was quick for people to pick up and believe.
Noth was pleased at how quickly the noble’s sentiment had turned against the two vile Marquises, but he wasn’t quite done enacting his revenge upon them. Just turning the people against them like this wasn’t going to be good enough, he needed something harsher. In a mocking tone, with wide, childlike eyes and a big smile, Noth began to nail their coffins.
“Wow, your [Gifts] are amazing. It might have been later than the rest of you, but the God-dess gave me a [Gift], too. Do you know what it is? They let me be a [Heavenly Monster Slayer].”
There was a sudden explosion of surprised gasps from the crowd at how highly tiered Noth's [Gift] was. Many people whispered about how such a thing was possible, or how it was absurd that such a person was only a Count. It seemed that most people present hadn’t heard a single bit of gossip about what his [Gift] had really been until now, and the news was all the more glaring when they had such a low tiered Marquise standing right next to him.
The teen looked back and forth between the two men, who looked both outraged and terrified at the situation they’d found themselves in. He leaned in and talked a bit softer, so that they could feel how his next words were meant just for them.
“And do you know what we [Monster Slayers] do? We hunt down monsters of all shapes and sizes, even fun ones that try to pretend to be people. And to help us do our jobs, we even know… what those silly monsters are afraid of. For instance, some of the more stupid monsters might simply be afraid of bats.”
While he made eye contact with Marquise Harold, Noth’s eyes flashed orange with his angel’s powers as he entrusted the other self deep inside of him to guide them correctly. At first the man was only standing there with the same flushed and indignant face that he’d been wearing, but it didn’t take long before he suddenly began to moan and shout in fear, twisting around as if something above him had begun attacking him. Before Tyrell could realize that something was wrong and back away, Noth quickly looked over at his second prey.
“...And some of the more pompous monsters only fear their own kind turning against them.”
Marquise Tyrell looked confused at the strange boy’s meaning. He opened his mouth to try to confront Noth and his oddness once again, but before he could even manage to get a single word out, he was assaulted by a cacophony of whispers. They were even louder than when the crowd had been gossiping over him just a moment ago, and no matter what he did, he couldn’t distract his mind away from the noise. Occasionally he would hear a mocking laugh, or he would turn his head to a voice that had oh-so-clearly whispered his name into his ear, only to find nothing there. As the seconds ticked on he grew more and more paranoid, the sounds driving him slowly more and more mad.
It wasn’t even a few minutes later before both of the Marquises had run away, each trying to flee from the fears that were assailing them.