The Ogre Strength Fairy and the Eldest 'Son'
Chapter 279 - Luckily, The Failures Of The Father Are Not Those Of The ’Son’

Chapter 279: Chapter 279 - Luckily, The Failures Of The Father Are Not Those Of The ’Son’

A certain Yecine father’s foul mood only worsened after making it into the market area. Hearing the frivolous calls and attempts to sell people things only reminded him that the merchant’s smug assurances rang hollow. Especially after the cursed item he was promised last time.

While he didn’t know its form, a gift was to be sent anonymously and placed on the Starbloom’s table... yet it didn’t even seem to make an impact after the wedding ceremony. He could only assume the man’s item had no effect or the heiress somehow suppressed it.

Of course, the father-in-law had no idea that - despite being the prime suspect at the time... his ignorance of the tree being the ’cursed’ item the return letter spoke of was a *very* good thing. It allowed him to be cleared temporarily enough by the illusionist’s check of his spirit.

With their other confrontation that day, Elua certainly would have made more of a public example of him than she had Sevra. After all, the scout was only trying to harm *her*... but what Anper set into motion almost harmed Qat!

The Yecine man next considered the masking tool. It was also useless against the manipulative witch, because she already knew the truth. He wasn’t sure why she had not revealed it to her parents. He was sure that Ondua would have pestered him with questions by now.

Then the boy he brought them to serve as a double was likewise ineffective - being seen through on their first meeting. Some limited use was had from the exorbitant expense... mostly a few family meetings that the boy sat quietly at in place of Qatrand. Until the day she finally culled the cyclical sign of her... *womanhood*.

All in all, it did not shine a very good light on their history with Teovar.

’Everything he says will work out has not.’

Yet... they were dependent on the man’s connections for the final piece of their decade and a half long plan. The only way they could think of absolving themselves at all was a bloodless coup. Without the artifact that would make Ondua and Yatrel disappear, they would have to talk again about dirtying their hands more... directly.

The swordsman’s jaw clenched tight enough to ache. What had started as an agreement with his faction while he was fed up with the Hero of the prior Descent had turned into something that constantly irritated him. Maintaining the masquerade around his eldest ’son’ was already a headache.

Fifteen years of watching Ondua bask in relatively unearned glory... watching the political landscape shift while the Yecine holdings crumbled bit by bit. Too many mouths and too many idle hands. Those outside the main estate siphoned too much and produced too little.

His mind drifted to his younger sons. Both had been oddly quiet since their encounter with that cloud of ’indifference’, but he had noticed them paying extra attention to the female cultivators. Kaland had even questioned one of the family training techniques yesterday, asking what the reason was they couldn’t incorporate something he had seen one demonstrate during the exhibition matches.

’That girl is already corrupting them. Just like she did with Qatrand.’

The thought of his daughter’s unexpected success during the tournament burned in his chest like acid. The girl had always been a disappointment - slow to master even the basic forms despite the considerable resources and time the elders of his faction had poured into her training.

Years that felt wasted trying to shape a fundamentally flawed vessel into something remotely worthy of the Yecine name. Something that wouldn’t ruin their plan. He was only glad he held his ground on refusing to allow her any knowledge of their true goal.

Yet *now* she suddenly stood triumphant on the stage? Praised by spectators who knew nothing of her deception and history of mediocrity! The fools who couldn’t see what was truly happening... like he thought he could.

Anper truly believed there was no way she accomplished her success on her own. To him, it had to be Elua er Goltbred’s doing. Specifically, some underhanded trickery related to the small cultivator’s Astralism! No other explanation made sense to the swordsman.

The martial traditions the Yecine had preserved for generations stated clearly that women simply didn’t have the natural aptitude for heavy blade techniques. That was simply how things were - a truth as immutable as the rising sun. That outlook was put to question only once before, during the witch’s Yecine bridal ritual.

A scenario which usually proved to the proud girls marrying into their household that they were weaker than the ways of their husbands.

But from what he heard, she not only excelled... she brazenly questioned the fairness of the trial. It was that particular impudence that led him to write a probing letter to the shady merchant. Hoping for a way to put the brunette in her place at the arranged marriage wedding.

’Perhaps there really was some manipulation of the judges themselves...?’

The man thought not for the first time. He’d witnessed how she charmed everyone around her with that falsely sweet demeanor - it disgusted him how easily others fell for it. Yet, it was the knowledge that her true Astralism was seemingly related to memory that gave him chills.

The first experience with it was actually with the body double in tow, on that fateful meeting. Seeing her servants acting strange... as if they had not only failed to hear their conversation, but had a different one in their head in place... was something he had looked out for carefully ever since. Any signs of spiritual manipulation that might clue him in on the truth of her power.

More recently, he was forced to scoff in an Ironclad Order member’s face when they brought up how Ondua had told people that her Aspect was Projection. He was sure the man thought so. The witch probably had her clutches in him as well!

Anper had not *quite* realized that, while his grudge with the Goltbred patriarch spanned more length of time... the shared dislike between him and the man’s daughter had swiftly overtaken it on a scale of Apathetic to Despised.

’I should never have agreed to this farce.’

The plan had seemed so elegant at first.

Using the suggestion from the Crystal Element cultivator to marry their firstborns had felt like divine justice when only *he* knew the child his passed wife bore him was an unwelcome daughter. What better revenge against Ondua than to use his own machinations against him?

It only felt better to him when it turned out *both* were biologically females. Neither would be able to bear any offspring from one another. So the Goltbred family would have no line of succession in the future. The suggestion to raise his own daughter as if she were a male instead was uncomfortable, but the reasons and benefits toward the planned takeover were undeniable.

But he hadn’t anticipated how thoroughly the plot would unravel in places. How completely his own creation would regularly disappoint. He could hardly believe they were related at all, especially considering how much her looks took after her mother.

His real hope for the family’s future rested with his younger sons. He would not fail them as he had obviously failed with his daughter. At least this time, he could ensure they received proper guidance divorced from the factional plot. Untainted by perversions of tradition like Qatrand had been.

Navuill’s apparent camaraderie with her lately felt like another thing not going his way. His nephew knew the truth about her side of the deception, yet seemed increasingly comfortable following her lead. Anper couldn’t stand to look at it.

Just yesterday... he had caught them discussing potential variations on the traditional forms. The young man nodded enthusiastically at some suggestion from his intended rival. He should have known that someone he considered malleable would be an inferior choice...

’Weak-minded fool. Does he truly not see what’s happening?’

Distracted by all his churning thoughts, the Yecine nearly collided with an elderly woman. Just like that blasted body double... her arms were laden with bolts of fabric. Deep, nearly black textiles meant for dress-making blocked the sight of her face. But the familiar voice froze him after his evasion.

"Ah, Anper. Just the one I’ve been hoping to speak with."

The familiar voice froze him in place. Lirades er Yecine adjusted her grip on her purchases as one of their retainers darted over and took the burden. His spine stiffened at her tone, instantly alert. A knowing smile playing across her slightly weathered features as she looked up at him.

’Like a child caught sneaking around. I almost forgot how fun it was to mess with them so actively.’

Of all the family members to encounter now, Lirades was perhaps the most dangerous for Anper. They had long ago relegated her to the periphery of family decisions simply because she *always* seemed to be a voice of dissent. Yet, it was true that her uncanny perceptiveness in politicking had made her valuable to the family a couple centuries ago.

’She’s done nothing but laze since then.’

"I’m afraid I’m in a hurry at the moment."

"You seem to be busy quite often these days. So often, in fact, that you’ve managed to reject my invitations to tea three times this week alone. Where do you even find the time to pen the refusals?"

Her pleased smile remained, but her eyes hardened. Knowing that look... the swordsman willfully suppressed a grimace. He had indeed been avoiding her. Precisely because ’casual’ conversation invariably left him feeling flayed open.

Like his motives were examined and found wanting.

Just like any time Elua er Goltbred confronted him.