The Doctor Cured The Villainess And Ran Away-Chapter 55: Social Party (3)

“Notebook?”

I reflexively echoed Asella’s question.

She emphasized it again, as if suspicious of my reaction.

“You wrote all kinds of weird lines in it. Stuff about ruin and death—some were even crossed out.”

“...Wait, you read that?”

“You should’ve taken better care of it.”

This was a bit of a disaster.

That notebook contains everything—Asella’s physical data, reagent formulas—I never let it out of my reach.

Whenever I move on to a new volume, I transfer only the essentials and burn the previous one.

She must’ve seen the bad ending list.

Now that I think about it, I did write that down once.

The status window only outputs the name of the ending—it doesn’t explain what happens.

I had tried to reconstruct each one, connect them to present events, to understand what led to those ends.

When did she even steal a look at it?

It irritated me, but this wasn’t the time to pick a fight.

If she learned the actual contents, that alone could become a trigger and send us hurtling into a bad ending.

Realizing that made me aware of how careless I’d been.

From the way she spoke, it didn’t sound like she read any full sentences.

I could still talk my way out of it.

I let out a faint chuckle and replied.

“Ah, you saw those notes and thought they were from nightmares, didn’t you?”

“Then what are they?”

“There’s a novel I’ve been reading lately. It’s nearing the finale, and fans are all arguing over how it’ll end. I was just theorizing for fun, but I’m not used to stories like that, so even after lots of thought, I couldn’t make sense of it.”

“All that was about a novel?”

“Yes. It’s ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) a war epic between two families. Seems like either the protagonist dies or the world ends.”

Thankfully, there was actually a novel I’d been skimming for entertainment—so I could run with this excuse.

Asella narrowed her eyes like a suspicious cat.

“I didn’t know you liked novels.”

“They’re more interesting than I expected. If you’re interested, I could recommend a few volumes.”

“I don’t have time for that. Still, what kind of notes does someone write about a novel? Something about ‘mana going berserk,’ wasn’t it?”

“Ha ha, did I write that too? I don’t even remem—”

Right as I tried to deflect, our eyes met.

Maybe it was the proximity between us.

Or maybe it was hearing the words of a bad ending spoken aloud.

—Out of the way! Get out of the way, Gotberg!!

—Ah... why... why are my mana circuits...!

Asella rampaged before my eyes. Her entire body lit up with flashing mana circuits gone wild.

Mana burst out of her uncontrollably, and everything turned gold.

BOOM—a deafening explosion rang in my ears.

The sensation of death swirled vividly in my fingertips as my vision flickered.

“Ugh.”

I couldn’t hold back and doubled over, collapsing to the floor in disgrace.

“Young Master?!”

Asella’s panicked voice.

I clamped a hand over my mouth and sprang back up like a spring.

Asella stood frozen, face pale, her lips trembling.

Can’t blame her. If your personal physician suddenly collapses, even I wouldn’t trust him again.

I waved my hand quickly to signal I was fine.

“Must’ve danced too long. I felt dizzy for a second, but I’m fine now.”

“...You scared me.”

Asella exhaled hard, hand over her chest.

“You must be frail. How are you planning to survive in the palace like that?”

“Ha ha, I’ll train harder.”

“Phew... you’re really okay?”

“Of course. Dizziness is temporary. A little rest is all I need.”

“Let’s head back in.”

And so, our brief dance ended, and we returned to the ballroom.

***

The music had shifted to a gentler tune. The lighting had gone back to normal.

After resting a little beside Asella, I felt fine again. Looked like I’d survive the rest of the party.

The nobles had moved on from greetings to casual chats in small groups over light drinks.

Now then...

Lauga was laughing like a maniac with the duke’s daughter. About twenty young men and women were clustered around them. That must be the ace circle of the social scene.

Some were diligently charming old geezers for business, others sulking in a corner with gloomy auras.

Same dynamics as any other society.

“Young Master, I have to go mingle with the nobles again. Can you stay here?”

“No problem. If I suddenly vanish, that would be more awkward.”

“...Right.”

Asella was oddly... gentle.

Well, by her standards—not snapping counts as kind.

Maybe even she wouldn’t lash out at a sick man.

I’ll have to remember that the next time I want to fake an illness for some time off.

“Haa...”

Asella closed her eyes briefly, then opened them again—face now a portrait of royal charisma.

From afar, the Western Duke spotted her and approached with his knight in tow.

The main target of tonight.

“Princess Asella, it’s an honor to behold your presence.”

The duke greeted her first, formal and polite.

“Congratulations on your victory at the Central Canyon defense, Duke Schwarzschweik.”

As expected of Asella—she immediately asserted dominance by dropping formal speech.

Technically, she outranked him, but he was a duke and a war hero. She could’ve used some honorifics—but no hesitation whatsoever.

Judging by his expression, the duke actually seemed to respect her confidence. He smiled and bowed.

“I’m honored by such generous praise.”

“Thanks to your efforts, a hundred million imperial citizens woke to a morning free of invaders.”

“I simply served under the blessings of the Empire’s banner.”

With the formalities exchanged, Asella got to the point.

“But tell me, Duke. In this battle, how many knights retired due to injury?”

In high society, every conversation has political weight.

While Asella’s royal rank put her above the duke on paper, his house wielded power rivaling a royal palace.

Meanwhile, Moonlight Palace—Asella’s faction—was the smallest among the five succession contenders.

And this was the duke’s party, after all.

Realistically, the advantage lay with him.

So Asella made a bold move—she offered a topic no one else would’ve brought up.

The duke raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the angle she’d taken.

“Retirees, you ask? If you mean knights whose wounds left them permanently unfit for duty—120 in total.”

“That battle fielded thirty-two banneret knights. To emerge with only that many losses is, in itself, a testament to your leadership.”

She could’ve credited the Goddess’s grace or the Emperor’s blessings, but she specifically praised the duke.

Unlike the rest, she made her intentions to forge a personal rapport crystal clear.

She also proved her competence by knowing precise combat figures.

“The honor belongs to Your Highness, whose governance strengthens the Empire.”

Despite it being their first meeting, the duke deflected the credit back to her. He was the one who extended a hand first.

Every word exchanged was veiled in ceremony, but none were wasted—each one chosen with care.

Political rhetoric is a hard game.

The duke had shown goodwill—now it was Asella’s turn.

In politics, friendship alone means nothing.

Mutual benefit must underlie every bond.

So what would Asella offer him?

A single misstep here and she’d look hollow.

“If those 120 retirements had been reduced to just 10, it would’ve been a great boon for your duchy. A shame, really.”

The duke’s lips curled upward.

Asella had just laid out two cards:

First, an offer to strengthen the duchy’s military medical capabilities.

Second, a suggestion of support for expanding his knight corps.

The size of the duke’s military is, of course, limited by imperial law.

Should he ever declare independence, the Empire would weaken.

And now Asella was offering him the tastiest bait of all.

“You say there’s a way to reduce the number of retirements?”

The duke asked for details.

Asella raised her chin and spoke the word.

“Have you heard of penicillin?”

Ah. So she’d planned to pitch me from the start.

As a result, the duke took deep interest in the antibiotic, and a foundation was laid for a partnership with Moonlight Palace.

Infections like tetanus often result in limb loss from even minor wounds.

Antibiotics are vital on the battlefield.

Asella had made her pitch flawlessly.

She lured the duke with the promise of antibiotics that the Gotberg business would mass-produce once it launched.

Of course, large-scale knight corps usage would require full commercialization—which would take years.

But the current peacetime gave the duke plenty of room to wait.

“This party must be a divine blessing from the Goddess herself. I’ve met the most important guest of all.”

The duke seemed truly pleased with the interaction.

If his duchy grew powerful enough, it might become an independent principality—and now he had a direct link to a royal successor.

No wonder he was happy.

Though he didn’t realize that if Asella ascended the throne, she’d tighten a noose around his neck without hesitation.

Forming a partnership equal to a duke’s faction at her first social debut—yes, Asella really was on another level.

“I’d like to propose a toast. You there.”

The duke waved casually, and a nearby attendant brought over two glasses of champagne.

Asella raised her glass as well.

Ideally, I’d have stopped her from drinking alcohol, but the content was mild, and she was clearly in high spirits—one glass wouldn’t hurt.

Or so I thought, until—

No. 040: Poison Trap 19% → 86%

No. 101: Mana Rampage 4% → 100%

The moment I saw the status window numbers, my body moved before my mind did.

Even before the flashback of dying from Asella’s poison trap kicked in—

CLANG!

I had already knocked the glass from her hand.

“Young Master?!”

“Do not drink that, Princess.”

THUD!

A loud crash followed by screams.

I turned—only to see the duke on the floor, choking and convulsing.

So he drank it after all.

“Diagnosis.”

Status: Neurotoxic Poisoning

Was the target the duke? Or Asella?

Or both?

An assassination attempt.

First priority: treatment.

I unbuttoned my suit jacket.