I had invited Miku to the party, but as soon as I mentioned that it was a posh event, she looked disgusted. I had hoped she would appreciate the invitation, considering it was a rare opportunity for people like us.

In the end, I attended the party alone, which didn't bother me much. I briefly considered having Bear, my coworker and fellow exorcist, attend in a dress. Despite how funny that would be, however, I didn't want to subject him to that humiliation. Bear was a dependable worker, trustworthy, and desperate enough that he would probably actually agree.

The party took place in a mansion at the center of town, its expansive yard making the surrounding towering apartment buildings seem insignificant. I hired a coach driver to take me there, and upon arrival, I noticed others arriving in their own luxurious carriages.

Some people glanced at me, whispering and snickering among themselves. I didn't pay much attention to their judgment and generously tipped the coach driver with three gold coins, which I assumed was a substantial sum by local wage standards. He thanked me relentlessly and rode off.

A noble man in the company of a woman, possibly his girlfriend or fiancee, approached me with a malicious glint in his eyes. It seemed he wanted to impress his companion. He was built like he practiced some fighting style, probably something posh, like fencing.

"Hmph, you arrived in a rusted rented carriage," he remarked.

I glanced at the departing carriage. "I didn't see any signs of rust."

"Leave before you embarrass yourself," he commanded.

I met his gaze and shrugged. "You talking about me? I'm not embarrassed." Then, I turned to a passerby, nudging him gently. He looked at me, puzzled, and I asked, "Are you embarrassed?"

"Huh?" The poor guy appeared confused, but he quickly retreated when he noticed the imposing figure.

"See, he's not embarrassed either.”

"Hey, I'm talking to you! Who do you think I am?!" He raised his voice, capturing everyone's attention. He reached for my shoulder, but I stood my ground, keeping my hands in my pockets.

'Carpy, if he touches me, cut off his arm.' I sent an Ord signal to my underground familiar, hoping he understood the intended message. He might misinterpret and aim for the neck, but I wasn’t too concerned.

I despised these nobles. While I couldn't assume they were all the same, most of them were worthless like this guy.

Before he could make contact, a middle-aged fat man grabbed his arm. "Ah, Lord Ko-... Sorry, Lord Nok, I'm glad you're here."

The man had long, feminine hair and cheeks so plump that his eyes were almost closed.

"Governor, good to see you," I greeted him with a smile, but I didn't extend my hand or engage in the usual formalities.

Only a handful of people here knew my true identity, and the town governor was one of them. Although I never explicitly revealed it, he had assisted me in concealing my identity on official documents.

"Gallert, go to the basement and fetch a good bottle of wine," the governor commanded the young man whose arm was almost severed.

"But uncle, I have a girl-"

"Do it now," the governor, who seemed to be his uncle, snapped. Once the young man walked away, the governor resumed his cheerful demeanor, nervously rubbing his hands together. "Apologies for that, Lord Nok. Youngsters these days lack respect."

"No, no, it's fine," I reassured him. "But do exercise caution. Demons these days eradicate the families of those who succumb to the superficial allure of power."

"Y-Yes, sir!" He nodded, his fat neck jiggling and sweat trickling down. Disgusting!

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

I wasn't going to kill a whole family just because they had one asshole amongst them. But the governor knew what my clan was capable of, and how whole Exorcist Clans had disappeared when they annoyed my family. Some noble family in the sticks was nothing compared to the people like my clan.

"Anyway, you can screw off now before you drench me in sweat," I waved off the fat man.

The bastard only acted meek like this with people like me, otherwise he was an asshole through and through. Asshole relatives like that don't just show up out of nowhere, they were taught to think they were more superior to the 'peasants'.

But I wasn't here to start some democratic revolution, I already had more than enough on my plate. I will leave shit like that to some other guy.

The inside of the mansion was bright, and despite how the place was filled with human garbage, it still looked quite nice. Though what stood out was how most of the people were trying to get their chance and talk to a young woman who wore a silky dark dress. She had haunting deep blue eyes, and long red hair.

Wisteria, or Wis for short. She was the country's second princess, and my fiance. I didn't know much about her, as she never appeared in the original story, though her existence was mentioned before. But from the outside, she appeared like the image of royal perfection. She was pretty to look at, polite, and kind. That was all the information I could get my hands on about her.

She had no enemies, or powerful friends, her connections were also almost non-existent as her mother was the king's second wife, who was from an impoverished noble family.

On the other hand, the girl standing behind her. She had dark hair, tied into a long ponytail, and yellow eyes. She met my gaze, and immediately looked away.

Huh? Did she recognize me?

Yellow eyes, there was one Exorcist Clan that I knew with a feature like that. The Hebi Clan, also known as the Snake Clan, had the natural ability to see Ord in its true form.

They could also see through illusions, and assassins who tried suppressing their Ord. Her Ord was kind of average, but she wasn't that bad for a bodyguard.

Though the Hebi Clan girl wasn't the only Ord user in the party, there was another one on the balcony. She sat alone, sipping her drink. Despite her pretty appearance and the dress she wore, no one dared approach her.

Many nobles were arrogant and foolish, but they were not foolish enough to approach my dear cousin. The Dark Sword Clan, as the guardians of the royal family, had sent someone to ensure the princess met me properly. However, their intentions seemed too obvious. I suspected they had other schemes in mind.

Taking a bottle of wine from a nearby table, I followed behind my cousin and entered the balcony. As I stepped in, the music seemed to fade away. Was there some kind of sound-blocking barrier?

"Delia, what a surprise to see you here," I greeted her.

She turned towards me, her eyes bloodshot, and her makeup poorly done. Even from a couple of feet away, I could smell the alcohol on her breath.

“Glasses? Again with the stupid disguises?” she scoffed.

I chose not to address her anger and instead raised an eyebrow, questioning her silently.

"Never thought I'd see you in a dress. You look fancy," I said, attempting to divert the conversation away from insults.

"Yeah, being born a damn woman. Wearing dresses is apparently all I'm good for," she muttered under her breath.

"Come on now, you excel at other things too. Like killing, torturing, and stalking," I teased, hoping to lighten her mood.

"You and your stupid jokes. You never stop, do you? Always the fucking favorite just because you were born with a dick!" Delia yelled, hurling her wine glass towards me. Her eyes widened in surprise at her own actions.

I could have easily dodged the glass, but instead, I allowed it to hit me, splattering red wine on my suit and leaving a bleeding cut on my forehead. It seemed that something small like this might distract her from whatever was troubling her.

"I... I'm sorry," she apologized, her gaze dropping as she searched for something to cover the cut. "I didn't mean to do that."

"Don't worry about it," I reassured Delia, pulling out a handkerchief to tend to my bleeding wound.

In that moment, Delia slumped to the ground, her back resting against the balcony, and broke down in tears. "I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I'm just a complete mess. No matter how hard I try, I always end up screwing things up and making them worse."

Part of me empathized with her; after all, she was only nineteen, on the cusp of turning twenty. At that age, I was studying at a college my parents had insisted would guarantee a successful life. But it was all a lie. And in a way, I couldn't entirely blame Delia.

Through my connection with the original Kon's memories, I understood the difficult upbringing she had endured. Given her circumstances, how could she have turned out any differently? Yet, I refused to excuse her harmful actions by attributing them solely to her past traumas. She derived pleasure from killing.

Her father, I assumed, had never even shown her an ounce of affection. He was the type of man solely focused on strengthening the family's power, undoubtedly carrying his own twisted story of how he became that way.

How on earth was I supposed to handle a psychologically disturbed young woman entangled in a web of murderous family drama?