Chapter 13

The Evil Stepmother and the Useless Stepbrother

Duchess (Formerly Baroness) Joan Carell of House Carell. First and only daughter of the late Baron Edgar Carell. She married Duke Geno Steelheart after the death of his first wife. When she came to the house, she brought with her a son from her first marriage. A spoiled, brattish kid with plump body named Julian Carell.

“It has been an eventful day. Thank you for asking,” Connie said. “And how about you? Which man did you bother this time?”

“Shut your mouth, girl. A girl who had not even had her first blood should not speak of such things!”

“What things do you mean? It’s an open secret what you do when you go on these…escapades.”

“Mummy. I’m hungry,” the boy said. He was so self-centered that he did not even have the capability to read the room.

“Alright, dear. We’ll have dinner soon,” Lady Carell said, placating the boy.

Finding that there needs not be more annoying small talks to be had, Connie walked up the stairs, passing by her stepmother.

“Where are you going?” she said flatly.

“I have a guest.”

“A guest? You mean that ugly, misshapen thing inside the guest room?”

This sentence caused Connie to feel her heart jump. “You went inside?!”

“Of course! I have the right to know what kind of dog my unruly stepdaughter brings home. What if it was someone who would endanger the family?!”

Connie ran to the guest room and found some maids wearing cloths over their mouths piling used cloths inside. There were signs of struggle and lines of blood and pus inside.

“Where is she?!” she roared, frightening the maids.

“I had the guards kick her out,” the vile woman leaned by the door with folded arms.

“That thing scared my poor little Julian!” she said with a smirk. “Look at these bedding! We will have to burn them all! I will not have our guest stay in a place where something like that slept in.”

“Did Bertus not stop you?” she asked with barely contained anger.

“Oh, he tried. The old fool. But this is my house and I control everything!” she continued, stepping back as Nick and five of the mansion’s guards entered the room. “My daughter is having one of her episodes. Bring her to her room.”

“Well, well. Nick. It seems that your loyalty is of different quality to Bertus’s.”

The guard gave a sigh. “She’s the one paying me, milady. Please don’t make this hard for us.”

“With just you?” Connie laughed and threw the bag she was holding upwards.

While the guards were distracted by the bag, she had hit the jugular of two of the nearest men with her knuckles, causing them to choke and faint. The third guard to the left reacted and moved to capture her arm.

“Got you!”

However, just as he was joyful of his success, he saw the world spun around and a sharp pain stabbed his arm. When he saw his arm, it had already been twisted so badly that the bone broke and jutted out of the elbow.

The fourth one did not fare better as a swift kick to the head had broken his skull and rendered him unconscious.

Lady Carell was flabbergasted as she saw her people on the ground, powerless to fight against a young girl. “W-what the hell are you doing?! Capture her!”

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Connie posed with her left arm behind her back and the right receiving the bag of herbs as it fell from the air. Then, she gave a look at the stupid woman and said, “Run.”

Nick did not bring out his sword even as he was left as the last man standing in the room. He had even raised both arms in surrender, yet his face was languid as if he was a spectator of a show.

“You are strong, milady. It’s like you’re a different person,” he said while glancing at his fellow guards. “You didn’t even use a sword.”

Connie lunged at his neck and held him aloft by the neck. “Where is she?”

“We (wheeze) took her (wheeze) to the slums in the south.”

“Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you now after you’ve outlived your usefulness,” she growled.

“Because I’m (wheeze) the only one (wheeze) who knows where - !”

“…I have no time for this,” she flung the man out the closed window and watched as he fell to the bush below. She leapt out of the window and ran in the direction of the slums.

Pain, and more pain.

My body felt like a furnace and when I breathe it feels like trying to inhale air from a straw.

It hurts. It hurts.

My limbs hurt. My skin hurts. The cold night air felt like blades carving into me.

Illumca wobbled and fell to the ground. The smell of garbage and her own body mixed into a nauseating odor that caused her to retch.

After she was thrown out of the Steelheart’s mansion, she was dragged to the slums and left to die. She tried to ask for help but the people in the slums were so afraid of her ailing body that the usually crowded street were deserted.

Why? Why me?

It was a question that she has been asking herself ever since she was betrayed by her own people and forced to live the life of an animal. Beaten and tortured, fed scraps and rubbish.

The only good memory she had was the touch of the strange girl named Connie.

When she looked at her, her eyes contain no pity or disgust. In her eyes, she was no different than normal people. And for once, she felt normal. She could forget that her body had turned into something cursed and misshapen.

Painful.

The weather had turned for the worse and it had begun to rain. The cold weather and the droplets of water beating down on Illumca’s battered body felt like countless needles stabbing at her.

“Argh! (Cough) (Cough).”

Her breathing grew ragged as she was choking on her own phlegm. She coughed heavily and blood spurted out of her mouth. The lack of air caused her consciousness to fade.

“I’m…scared,” she began to cry out of fear.

Then she felt a strong hand on her back and the chill began to subside.

“No need to be scared.”

The last thing Illumca saw before her sight went dark was the familiar haughty smile.

Ethel Windlepoons has had a nice dinner of warm bread and soup and decided to close the shop. She was preparing to bar the door with a large, old block of wood to when she saw two figures racing through the rain and into her shop.

“The store’s closing,” she said, intending to complain about the wet shoes in her store.

“Ethel. I need your help.”

The old woman raised both eyebrows once she recognized the wet blanket dirtying her floor. “Hmm? I thought I told you. You will have to wait for tomorrow or the next day.”

“Circumstances have changed. Take a look at her.”

She slowly put feverish Illumca on the floor.

“She is poisoned. Do you have something that can help her?”

Ethel was bewildered by the condition of the person in front of her. “T-this is the first time I saw something like this,” Ethel frowned. “My antidotes only deal with snake venoms and food poisonings!”

“Seems like I can only rely on myself for this. Let me borrow a pestle and a mortar.”

Ethel said nothing and handed over some spare tools and simply watched.

Connie poured out the bag of herbs that she was holding and spread out the contents. She deftly picked up a handful of different types of herbs, crushed them with the pestle and mortar, and gathered the result in her palms.

She then closed both palms and gathered her Yin Energy, focusing on the mixture. Five minutes later she opened them and a small round pill smelling of lavender was there. She fed it to Illumca and her ragged breathing slowly began to subside.

“What did you do?” Ethel’s eyes were wide open. She had never seen something like that before. “And what is that?”

“A Rejuvenation Pill. It’s used to stabilize the condition of sick person.”

“Sort of like a potion?”

“No…how do I say it? It stimulates the body’s power to heal itself. It also acts as a painkiller. If one is wounded and you eat it, the wound will close by itself.”

“So, it’s similar to a High Potion.”

“So you do have it!”

“I don’t. A potion can only be created by an Alchemist at Level 15. While a High Potion can only be created by Level 45 Alchemist. You can only find about fifty or so high-level alchemist in this kingdom. Anyway, only C-Rank Hunters and up would use them. And even then they’d use them very sparingly. Whatever it is, it looks very potent. That girl is starting to breathe normally.”

“No. This is not enough. This is simply a stop gap measure. If I want to save her…I have to do something drastic.”

“Something drastic?”

“How many types of medicine do you actually have? The ones in the back, not the ones you showed me this afternoon.”

Ethel sighed and hooked her finger as she went to the back of the store.

“Leave her on the table. She’ll have to make do.”

Connie agreed and laid the sleeping girl on the table and followed Ethel. The room in the back was filled with glass jars filled with exotic poisons and medicines. Some were covered with the word ‘failures’ while some ‘success’; Clearly not as innocent as the items at the front.

Connie whistled and said. “You were holding back on me, Ethel.”

She answered with a sharp shrug of the shoulder. “Every girl has her secret.”