I Stole The Duke - Chapter 115

“If I may speak just once more—Your Grace, think of Her Ladyship! You know better than anyone what would happen to her if something were to happen to you. She has no heir, and without you…”

Ladis was truly furious this time. As the chief aide, he wasn’t there just for show. And yet, his liege had recklessly acted alone on a dangerous operation without consulting the strategist standing right in front of him.

“……”

He said it would be one remark, but the intensity of Ladis’s emotion came at Olive like a full barrage. All she could do was stand there and listen blankly.

“The Ascher household wouldn’t last three months without you.”

If Michalis died, his young duchess—without an heir—would be devoured by the vultures among the collateral branches. The loyal retainers would scatter, and the duchy would crumble.

“I’ll make an heir. Go get my wife.”

Olive, overwhelmed by the lecture, suddenly remembered her fairy.

Ah, right. Tonight’s the wedding night.

This body still belonged to the Duke of Ascher. If she had a child with the duchess, at the very least, she’d fulfill the basic duty of the title she’d stolen.

“Her Ladyship has gone outside the capital.”

“…What?!”

Olive’s eyes widened in shock.

“She said she wished to witness the grape harvest personally, so she left for the vineyard.”

“So… she won’t be back until late?”

“She plans to return tomorrow, after watching the morning harvest and traveling back.”

She said she’d come tonight!

Her husband was sick in bed, and she ran off… to pick grapes? Was this an overnight stay?!

“Ah—and Her Ladyship said not to worry. She went with Sir Joel.”

“…What?!”

Olive nearly choked. Joel? That good-looking fox?

“You’re telling me… my wife… is out there alone… with her escort knight?”

And at this hour?! The sun had already set. Olive was practically frothing at the mouth.

“Yes, that’s correct.”

Ladis blinked, slightly confused by how worked up His Grace was getting.

“I’m going to the vineyard. Prepare the carriage!”

Olive shouted like a madwoman. The idea of her fairy… spending the night… with that fox? Absolutely not. That wasn’t why she had taken over this body!

First, I deal with that damned fox.

From the very beginning, she had hated him. Now was the perfect excuse to get rid of him for good.

“You can’t, Your Grace! You must rest tonight!”

“If you won’t follow my orders, get out of my sight, you idiot!”

Furious that Ladis was trying to stop her, Olive exploded. Between this and everything else, she was surrounded by people she couldn’t stand.

“Y-Your Grace…”

He’s using vulgar language…?

Ladis was in complete shock.

“…I’ll have the carriage prepared.”

Numb with disbelief, Ladis turned and trudged out of the bedroom.

There’s no time to waste.

Olive leapt out of bed, ripping off her pajamas.

“Ugh… What is this body made of? Stone?”

For someone who had never known a single muscle, the Duke’s physique was a marvel. This sculpted, bronze body—built without magic—was something to admire.

Could arrows even pierce this?

She squeezed her iron-like biceps, poked at her brick-hard abs…

What a body. Now, as for…

Her gaze shifted to the mirror in the corner of the room. Slowly, she pulled down her undergarments.

“Whoa—! What the hell?!”

The mouth that had just shouted a curse… was now quietly smirking.

“Is this the outfit I’m supposed to wear?”

A neatly folded set of clothes had been laid out on the bedside table—looked like they were meant for her.

“Hm?”

As Olive pulled on the pants that fit her perfectly, she suddenly paused. Something was stuffed inside the pocket. It wasn’t a brand-new outfit—must’ve been the one the Duke had worn earlier that morning.

Rustle.

Reaching in, she pulled out the item that had caught her attention.

“This is…”

It was a paper card, marked with what looked like a magical sigil and embedded with a mana stone. Curious, Olive flipped it over. The back was filled with strange symbols and dots she couldn’t read.

<.. — .–. . .-. .. .- .-../-.. .. … .–. . .-../– .- –. .. -.-.>

This isn’t Ancient Sardis… is it some kind of cipher?

“Hah! I get it now.”

Suddenly, she understood why this body’s sense of smell had returned so sharply.

That sigil must be for a dispel spell.

“Hahaha… my lady, were you trying to use magic on me like this?”

There was no way a soldier like Duke Ascher would’ve crafted a magic card like this. No… it had to be the duchess’s doing. She really was a woman who sparked endless obsession.

If this really is a Sardis-origin dispel spell, then she must’ve already broken the ‘Love Smell Curse’—

Which means the Duke kept requesting help just to cover up the duchess’s capabilities?

“What a pair of con artists!”

Olive felt like she’d been played by both of them and grew increasingly frustrated.

How does the duchess know Sardis magic? Could she be a priestess? A sage?

The Ascher family had originally provided information about the Sardis ruins, so it made sense they’d be the ones to excavate its artifacts. But having the book was one thing—being able to read it was another entirely. As Olive wrestled with that thought, something suddenly clicked in her mind.

“No way…”

If the duchess really had the ability to see through everything—like some kind of divine being—then…

Could she already know I’m a fake? Is that why she ran?

She’d caught on to Olive’s identity as a mage fast. Olive had to check. Immediately. She shoved her arms through her shirt sleeves and bolted from the room.

“Sir Ladis! Ladis—ugh, where the hell is he?!”

She needed that flour-head. She’d sent him off to prepare the carriage, and now she couldn’t find him.

“Your Grace, you called?”

Thankfully, Ladis, who had just finished instructing a servant to prepare the carriage, rushed back after hearing her voice.

“Take me to the underground prison. Now.”

She needed to confirm that her original body was still there—and safe.

Meanwhile…

10,021… 10,022…

Michalis Ascher was still training relentlessly, using recovery cards to push past physical limits.

“Would you please stop already?!”

The guard watching him was on edge. He was genuinely worried the lunatic would drop dead before his execution date—which would make him, the guard in charge of Section Three, fully responsible.

“Just a little more.”

Michalis said nothing else, finishing his 10,025th push-up with stoic focus.

“This is for your own good!”

The guard finally snapped, throwing a bucket of water and a stale black loaf into the cell.

“I’ll remember this favor.”

Starving by now, Michalis didn’t even hesitate. He bit into the brick-hard bread without soaking it.

“…Unbelievable.”

The guard stared in disbelief. This crazy noble prisoner had eaten three bowls of oatmeal like a man possessed and was now happily chewing on peasant bread most commoners wouldn’t even touch.

I’m almost there…

By the three-hour mark, the headache and the numbness in his hands and feet had completely disappeared. The memories still hadn’t returned—but he could feel something shifting.

“What time do the lights go out in the prison?”

Michalis gulped down water straight from the bucket.

“Nine o’clock.”

The guard sounded just as eager. Lights-out meant he could finally go home.

“This is Section Three. The man Your Grace asked about is locked up here.”

Just as Michalis set the bucket down, the warden’s voice echoed through the corridor, followed by heavy footsteps.

“Duke Ascher approaches. Show proper respect.”

That voice—it was unmistakably Ladis.

“Your Grace, I’m honored!”

The stunned guard dropped into a full bow, his forehead nearly hitting the floor.

They’re here…

Michalis stepped closer to the bars and stared at his original body.

Still in one piece, huh.

Olive looked at her original body, covered in sweat, and sank into thought.

Wait… does she not know the bodies have been swapped yet? She’s way too calm if she does.

“Do you feel wronged?”

Olive finally broke the silence, her eyes locked on Michalis standing calmly in his cell.

“No. I only reflect on my lack of preparation.”

“For someone saying that… you were very well prepared.”

The mana restraint locked around his neck sent chills down Olive’s spine. One small misstep, and she could have been the one locked up in that cell.

“Why don’t you shout the truth?”

“Who would believe me like this?”

Olive couldn’t tell whether Michalis’s calm demeanor was confidence… or complete resignation.

“Warden.”

After quietly staring Michalis down, Olive spoke again.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Execute him at dawn.”

“…Yes, understood.”

It was a shame to waste a body born with the potential of a grand mage—but she had no need to go back. No loose ends. No risk.

“Come, Sir Ladis. Escort me to the vineyard.”

Olive ordered her late-night ride as naturally as breathing.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“……”

Sorry, Sir Ladis…

Michalis quietly watched them go, footsteps echoing down the stone corridor. He kept his gaze on Ladis’s back a moment longer, then pulled out the watch Joel had given him and checked the time.

Current time: 8:45 PM. Accounting for nighttime travel, they’ll reach the vineyard in roughly six hours…

“Why’d you go and attack the Duke, huh…”

Now that the footsteps had faded completely, the guard finally stood up from his deep bow and looked at Michalis with a tinge of pity.

“Officer. Leave once lights are out.”

His voice was calm—far too calm for someone scheduled to die at sunrise.

“…I’ll take care of my own shift, thanks. Just… try to get some rest tonight, yeah?”

“……”

Michalis didn’t respond. He simply sat on the hard, cold floor in a formal meditative posture.

It wasn’t going to be a restful night anyway.

“Sleep well, then.”

At exactly 9 PM, the underground prison was plunged into complete darkness.

“Imperial Teleport.”

Fifteen minutes after lights-out—once all the guards across every section had gone home—
Michalis activated the card he’d been hiding in his pocket.

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