The Genius Son-in-law of the Swordmaster Household—Blessed by Authority

Chapter 166 : Nightingale (3)

Nightingale (3)

Ian gave a hand signal.

He bent his fingers into a crescent moon shape and tapped twice over his heart.

"Th-that is...!"

It was Nightingale's secret sign.

But it was no ordinary sign.

Even within the organization, only the highest elders and the guildmaster knew of this signal—a secret signal passed down since the guild's founding.

"As the darkness deepens."

A low, solemn voice flowed from Ian's lips.

It was not the lingua franca.

It was Nightingale's language, 'Nightspeak.'

And not just that, it was with the perfect intonation of an Apostle of the Night.

"Only those who carry lanterns recognize each other. Guild master."

"...!!"

Arsen stopped breathing.

That was a phrase containing Nightingale's founding philosophy—a line of oath now almost forgotten.

A phrase that most current members didn't even know, one that would only be tucked away in the corners of some old history book.

For him to recite it so naturally... as if he had lived in that era.

"Y-you can't be..."

A certain legend flashed through Arsen's mind.

There was an old legend within Nightingale.

'New Moon.'

One of Nightingale's key officers.

Among even the Apostles of the Night, the most secretive, the one who hides in the deepest darkness to protect the organization—a shadow.

Only the first guildmaster knew that identity, and over the generations, that being was simply assumed to have died out.

'He...'

Was he still alive? Or was it his successor, carrying on his will?

Either way, the man before his eyes was no mere ally.

He was a being connected to Nightingale's roots, who perhaps knew even more history and secrets than Arsen himself.

Unconsciously, Arsen paid his respects in Nightspeak.

"Oh you who carries the lantern..."

It was a courtesy to the measures left behind by the first guildmaster, and also a greeting of welcome.

Standing at his side, Serana did not understand what was happening, but seeing her master's demeanor, she quickly bowed her head as well.

From inside his robe, Ian let out a bitter smile.

'I do feel a little guilty...'

But posing as the New Moon, apostle of the Night, was the fastest, surest, and safest way to link himself with Nightingale.

'Still, it's not a complete lie.'

After all, in his previous life, Serana—who became guildmaster—had formally appointed him as New Moon, apostle of the Night.

"... Then, I'll see you again when the time comes."

Without drawing out the conversation any longer and risking suspicion, Ian made his exit.

After all, he had achieved his objective of saving the guildmaster.

― Swish.

Ian's disappearing figure faded as naturally as if he had been nothing more than the darkness itself.

"Hah..."

Arsen stared blankly at the spot where Ian had disappeared for quite some time.

"M-master...? Master?"

Serana's trembling voice broke the silence.

"Who on earth was that...?"

"The New Moon."

There was a strange thrill in Arsen's eyes.

"New Moon?"

"Yes. An Apostle of the Night who protects Nightingale from the deepest darkness. Nothing else could explain it—the founding maxim of Nightingale, the secret signal, as well as that overwhelming power and the intelligence that led him all the way here to save us..."

Arsen clenched his fist tight.

At a time when the organization was rotting from the betrayal of an insider, and was on the verge of collapse—

A shadow appeared as if by miracle, resolved everything, then disappeared again.

He asked for no reward, nor revealed his name.

He simply saved the organization, and vanished back into darkness.

If this wasn't truly 'New Moon', what else could it be?

"Serana. Collect Veradin's corpse. And..."

Arsen's gaze turned sharp.

"We must upend the organization. We will root out—without leaving a single one—the ones who provided information to the Demon Cult, and those who colluded with Veradin."

"Ah...! Yes, master!"

"And one more thing."

Arsen added quietly,

"If you ever detect signs of New Moon, or he makes a request, treat it with the highest priority."

Thus, the long-vacant seat of New Moon, apostle of the Night in Nightingale's history, was officially filled once more.

* * *

― Flaaash!

Cutting through the night wind, Ian headed for Sunshine Castle.

'Phew...'

Today, another task had come to a safe end.

He had saved Nightingale's guildmaster, annihilated the Demon Cult's Scarlet Spider assassination squad, and as a bonus, had firmly established his identity as New Moon with the massive information guild Nightingale—solidifying them as his allies.

'Not a bad result.'

Now, time to hurry back and wash up.

The stench of foul narcotics clung to his whole body.

The smell of that pink smoke powder the assassins used was soaked into his clothes.

'This smell... It just won't come out.'

Strange—cloying sweet, yet like overripe flowers.

To Ian, who possessed a Hammah body, it was just an acrid odor, but to ordinary people, it was a deadly hallucinogen and aphrodisiac.

'I need to get rid of as much as I can before I enter the castle.'

He quickened his pace, letting the night air flap his clothes.

Before long, the majestic silhouette of Sunshine Castle could be seen in the distance.

The torches along the walls glittered like stars.

'Everyone's probably asleep.'

It was already well past 2 a.m.

Effortlessly, Ian vaulted over the wall and landed soundlessly on the terrace of his annex room.

― Tap.

'I'll just quietly wash up and get some rest.'

Ian carefully opened the terrace window and entered his room.

But—

'...?'

The room, which should have been dark, was softly lit by a magic power lamp.

And on the bed, two familiar shadows sat huddled together, fussing with something.

"... Sophia? Young lady Yuria?"

Startled by his voice, the two girls looked up in alarm.

"Eek! Young master!?"

"Ian!?"

Yuria and Sophia.

The two of them were surrounded by all kinds of ribbons, colored paper, and small boxes atop the bed.

On the wall, a crooked banner half-hung, reading: 'Happy Birthday!'

"What are you two doing, up at this hour...? On my bed... Sophia, what were you doing?"

Perplexed, Ian asked, and the two exchanged anxious glances.

"W-well, that is..."

Yuria fidgeted and tried to hide something behind her back.

Sophia let out a deep sigh and confessed.

"Haaa... We were preparing a surprise party... but you found out so easily."

"Surprise party?"

"It's your birthday this week! We wanted to do something special and surprise you!"

"That's right! We were going to secretly decorate your room, then hide, and when you came in—Ta-da!"

Only then did Ian recall the date.

Now that he thought about it, his birthday was just around the corner.

He'd been so busy he'd totally forgotten, but these two had remembered and planned for him.

A warm feeling welled up in Ian's heart.

With a gentle smile, Ian approached.

"Ah... I should have pretended not to notice. I should have caught on before I opened the door."

"Ugh! We let our guard down, Sophia!"

"Mmm..."

"Still, thank you—it means a lot to me, truly. I'm really touched. Right now. Honestly."

As Ian spoke with sincerity, Yuria and Sophia's faces brightened at once.

"Well...it's a shame we got caught, but it can't be helped. Still, we won't give up on the surprise! We'll try again someday!"

Yuria hopped off the bed and drew near Ian.

"You did good. Was the matter resolved?"

"Yes. It's safely over."

"That's a relief. You're not hurt, are you? Not hungry?"

Naturally, Yuria examined Ian, fussing with his robe.

Then—

― Sniff.

Yuria's nose twitched.

"Hmm...?"

"What is it?"

"You... sniff sniff... you smell kind of funny."

Yuria pushed her nose against his chest and sniffed intently.

"What is this smell? It's... sweet?"

"Ah, ah!"

Ian realized his mistake.

Even though he'd tried to brush it off earlier, Rosalia's drug scent still lingered.

"You shouldn't inhale this! I picked it up outside, so it's—"

"Why? What is it?"

Now Sophia drew close too.

― Sniff sniff.

"Uh? It's true. It's sort of... like flowers... or maybe perfume... hmm... uh..."

Sophia's eyes grew hazy and unfocused.

"It's... really... nice..."

"S-Sophia?"

Ian immediately sensed something was wrong.

This was the potent hallucinogen and aphrodisiac created by the Sin of Lust Cult Leader.

Ian was immune thanks to his Hammah body, but Yuria and Sophia were not.

"W-wait! Young lady! Sophia, stop! It's dangerous—!"

Ian tried to retreat, but it was already too late.

― Grab.

Yuria seized Ian's collar in a tight grip.

Her crimson eyes now held a dazed, misty sheen.

Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing grew husky.

"Ian..."

Yuria whispered in a thick, intimate tone.

"Stay still. Why do you keep trying to escape? Do you... hate me...?"

"N-no! It's not that! Please, pull yourself together! This is just the effect of the—mmph!"

Ian's words were muffled by Yuria's lips.

An awkward yet intense kiss.

After that, Ian's mind went blank.

"Haa... ha..."

As their lips parted, Yuria leaned over Ian, breathing hard.

"I won't regret this. Not ever."

"Young master... me too... I won't regret it."

Before he knew it, Sophia had crawled up beside the bed, whispering in his ear, sticking out her tongue.

"Don't leave me out... I want to do this too..."

"S-Sophia, not you too...!"

The two women closed in on Ian from either side.

Their bodies burned like fire, and their breath was sweet.

The scent of Rosalia's drug filled the room, numbing even Ian's rationality.

'I-if this goes on...!'

Even if his Hammah body was immune to the poison, it couldn't suppress a man's basic instincts.

When the women he loved came at him this assertively, if he resisted like a block of wood, he'd be a monk, not a swordsman.

"Please... try to snap out of it..."

Ian clung to the last thread of reason and pleaded, but—

"Shut up... give me your lips."

Once more, Yuria captured Ian's mouth with hers.

This time deeper, more fervent.

At the same time, Sophia's hand boldly slipped beneath Ian's shirt.

It felt like being swept away by an irresistible tidal wave.

In the end, Ian squeezed his eyes shut.

The night was long, and the scent was overwhelming.