I Am Not The Duke's Evil Son
Chapter 76: Envy, Affinity, Howl

Chapter 76: Envy, Affinity, Howl

As Arthur walked through the castle’s corridors, he noticed the maids bustling about with unusual energy. Most of them were heading toward the same location with strange expressions. Puzzled, he asked Octavia beside him,

"What’s going on? Did something happen?"

Octavia sighed in clear disappointment, visibly irritated. "No, my lord. But ever since that knight Novarian arrived, things have been like this. Clearly, they heard he returned from hunting and are going to see him."

Arthur nodded in understanding. "I see." Inwardly, he scoffed, ’I forgot about that. His handsome face draws girls wherever he goes. Thinking about it now, I kind of want to kick his ass in front of the maids... but unfortunately, that bastard is stronger than me.’

A strange smile appeared on his face. ’Am I actually getting jealous? That’s a bit unexpected. But it doesn’t matter. My current position doesn’t allow for romance or any deep relationships. I don’t even know what kind of disaster awaits me in the future.’

His faint smile faded, replaced by a sad look and conflicted emotions. In truth, he was a little scared of the future. Any strong emotional attachments could lead to reckless mistakes and he couldn’t afford that. His decision was firm, yet grounded in realism. He was, after all, honest with himself.

Octavia noticed the change in his expression and asked with concern, "Is something bothering you, my lord?"

He shook his head and returned to his calm demeanor. "Not really. Let’s go."

After a few more minutes of walking, they reached the workshop, where a fully armored guard stood by the entrance. Upon seeing Arthur, the guard placed his hand over his chest in salute. "Greetings, my lord."

"At ease. You may go."

"Yes, my lord." The soldier quickly departed.

Arthur and Octavia quietly entered. Unexpectedly, Selene was inside. Arthur was surprised and asked warily, "What are you doing here?"

Octavia also looked at her with curiosity.

Selene enthusiastically held up the strange-looking transparent glass bottle and beamed, "Look, my lord! This thing you gave me it’s amazing and clear! I can see my hand through it!" She waved her hand behind the glass, marveling.

Arthur ignored her chatter and focused on the bottle. A strange look appeared on his face as he muttered with satisfaction, ’The glass is as clear and pure as the kind in my world. This result is really excellent.’

Octavia, on the other hand, frowned deeply and stared at Selene with fiery eyes full of rage or rather, envy. As calmly as she could, she asked, "Did the lord give you that?"

"Yes, he did! Look at it Isn’t it beautiful?" Selene extended the bottle toward her.

But Octavia hesitated. She didn’t take it. In fact, for a moment, she considered grabbing it and smashing it, but after a quick glance at Arthur, she shoved aside all the dark thoughts. With a sigh of restrained sadness, she said, "No need for me to hold it. It’s beautiful. Treasure it it’s a valuable gift from the lord."

’I wish he’d give me one too. Does this mean he cares more about Selene than me?’ Her thoughts spiraled. She even felt the urge to cry for no rational reason, but still kept a composed face.

Arthur paid no attention to the surrounding tension. Calmly, he approached the molds and began removing the glassware from them. The first was a large, well-crafted bowl with no cracks or warping. It made him smile with genuine satisfaction.

’This is excellent better than expected. I’m now sure the glass industry will flourish. If I can secure proper funding, why not? Glass could become a common household item for every family.’

He felt proud of himself and genuinely enjoyed the idea, wanting to see it through.

Without letting the joy distract him, he set the bowl aside and proceeded to empty the remaining four molds. These included two glass beakers for measuring liquids, a simple bottle intended for storing potions, and the last mold produced a shallow, bowl-like vessel. Unfortunately, it was filled with cracks and deformities.

Unbothered by the flawed piece, he placed it safely aside to avoid injuries.

Octavia and Selene watched in awe. They admired the glassware and longed to touch it, but neither dared to ask.

Still, Octavia, moved by her earlier feelings, took a step forward. "My lord, may I have one of these items? What about that one you set aside? Do you not want it?"

Arthur was surprised and turned to her, noticing the red tint on her face and how she couldn’t meet his eyes.

He smiled oddly, which only made her more flustered. She quickly shook her head, "Forget it, my lord. I realize I was out of line to ask." She wanted to flee the workshop from embarrassment, but protocol demanded she remain unless dismissed.

Arthur had no particular response. After a brief silence, he turned to Selene, who was watching with strange eyes. "Go handle your duties. You have recruits to oversee."

"Yes, my lord." Selene left promptly, realizing she’d wasted too much time and neglected her responsibilities.

Once she was gone, Arthur picked up one of the glass beakers and handed it to Octavia. "Take this. There’s no need to feel embarrassed about asking me for something." He meant every word. To him, Octavia held a special place. She was the first to accompany him, the first to share in his wild endeavors, and had always obeyed his commands precisely without doing anything to upset him.

To Octavia, his words held deeper meaning. Instead of easing her embarrassment, her blush intensified. She accepted the beaker with shy gratitude. "Thank you, my lord. But you remain my master—I won’t dare ask in such a bold way again."

"It’s fine. I’ll head to my room now. and before I forget, go fetch me some Glassheart flower petals."

"Yes, my Lord."

As if waiting eagerly for the excuse, she rushed out, desperate to escape the stifling atmosphere. Once she was far enough, she hid behind a corner, staring at the glass beaker in her hands with a soft smile and pounding heart.

"My lord, you have no idea how much your words affect me." She placed her hand over her chest and tried to calm herself. Though she tried not to take his words emotionally, her imagination ran wild with thoughts of kisses, weddings, and even sitting beside him while people called her ’My Lady.’

...

Oblivious to her thoughts, Arthur headed to his room. Once inside, he locked the door and placed the large glass bowl before him. He stared at it with conflicting emotions: excitement, hesitation, and doubt. After a brief pause, he took out the wooden mana heart and placed it in the center of the empty bowl.

"In the novel, they said that implanting a fake mana core is agonizing like going through hell and needs special preparations. I hate this hassle, but I need to learn magic. From what I know, the fake mana core must be level C and ideally of the water or wood element. They’re gentler and don’t resist the implantation like lightning or fire those are wild, even savage."

"Alright, I have everything. Now I need to prepare the wooden mana core and make it attuned to my body."

Knock!

While thinking, Octavia knocked on the door. He opened it quickly, took the Glassheart petals, and dismissed her. What he was about to do required privacy.

Once everything was ready, he sat at his desk and held his sword. He hesitated for a moment, then steeled himself. "No need to fear." Without mercy, he slashed his wrist.

Blood poured heavily, filling the bowl with the wooden mana core. After a few minutes, about a liter of his blood had been lost. He then swiftly bandaged and closed the wound. As a Boundless at level E, losing a few liters wasn’t fatal, though it left him dizzy. He just needed rest.

Remaining cautious, he dropped in the strange transparent petals. The mana heart suddenly glowed wildly, and the blood began to boil not from heat, as the bowl was cold, but from something deeper. The petals dissolved into the blood, which turned from red to pitch black and emitted a foul stench. The mana heart, however, remained intact its glow merely dimmed.

Arthur sighed in disappointment. "That quickly? Damn... my level is still too low. My blood isn’t strong enough."

After a short pause, he dumped the black blood into a prepared bucket. Then, wincing, he reopened the wound and poured another liter of blood into the bowl, followed by more Glassheart petals.

According to the novel, this was the Affinity Stage, forcing the mana core to adapt to the human body’s nature before implantation. Without it, the mana core would damage the body from within, turning not just the blood but the entire body black and dead.

He waited. This time, the blood didn’t immediately blacken. He kept watch. After half an hour, it turned black again. He sighed but felt a bit of relief there was progress.

Without hesitation, he dumped the blood again, reopened the wound, and poured a third liter into the bowl. But this time, he didn’t wait. He sealed the bowl with a metal lid and went to bed. He was utterly exhausted. Losing three liters of blood was dangerous.

"Let’s hope it all goes well," he muttered before consciousness faded and he fell asleep.

Awooooo!

Suddenly, a loud howl echoed nearby. His hazy eyes snapped open.

’What was that?’

He couldn’t process it from fatigue. He drifted again, but the howl rang out once more.

He opened his eyes and this time sat up. He looked around, unsure of what was happening. He confirmed the sound wasn’t an illusion. As his awareness cleared, he felt a faint itch on his hand. Looking down, he saw the moon-shaped mark on the back of his hand.

Surprised, he muttered, "Didn’t this mark disappear when I finished forming the Ancestral Right Contract?"

His eyes widened as dread filled him. He rushed to the window and looked up at the sky. There he saw the full moon, glowing beautifully.

"This is bad... I forgot that werewolf females go into rampage during a full moon."