My Family in the Novel?

'What's wrong with the professor?'

As Aria observed Professor Dust's uneasy demeanor during the lecture, she couldn't help but wonder what might be bothering him.

His usual confidence seemed replaced by a sense of discomfort, making the lecture more intriguing than the subject matter itself.

In her hands, Aria held a broken crystal, intending to give it to Bella as a gesture to persuade her to join Aria's party for the upcoming dungeon explorations.

Meralda, the small spirit that had manifested before her earlier, had given her this unique spirit crystal.

It differed from the more common spirit stones, possessing a denser and more accurate resonance with spirits.

…..

Recalling the moment Meralda appeared, Aria noticed a hint of annoyance in the spirit's expression as it handed her the crystal before disappearing.

Despite the unusual circumstances, Aria accepted the crystal, intrigued by its potential applications in summoning spirits.

As Aria contemplated the spirit crystal in her hands, she remembered Meralda's mumbling before disappearing.

"I won't let him abandon me"

She was curios what Meralda meant by her words, but Meralda disappeared before she could ask.

While she was grateful for the thoughtful gift, Aria acknowledged that she wasn't a summoner or a mage. Her gaze shifted to the peacefully sleeping Louise beside her.

"Maybe Louise would appreciate this more than me"

Aria pondered. However, she questioned whether Louise, with her innate ability to attract and communicate with spirits effortlessly, even needed a spirit stone and crystal. Louise's connection with spirits seemed to transcend the need for such tools.

Unlike Louise, Aria recognized her own limitations. Despite her efforts to train her spiritual resonance, summoning anything beyond a low-ranking spirit remained beyond her current capabilities.

The intricacies of summoning mid or high-ranking spirits required not only spiritual sensitivity but also a mana capacity that Aria had yet to develop fully.

As Aria considered the potential recipients for the spirit crystal, one person's face stood out prominently in her mind—Bella Raisenlier. Bella's extraordinary magical prowess, unrivaled mana capacity, and unmatched magic resonance and sensitivity made her the ideal candidate for the spirit crystal.

Aria envisioned the crystal enhancing Bella's already exceptional abilities, allowing her to effortlessly summon high-ranking spirits.

Despite her uncertainty about Bella's spiritual resonance and sensitivity, Aria believed that even if Bella lacked these qualities, she could easily overcome the gap through training.

The prospect of having Bella join her party for the upcoming dungeon explorations motivated Aria to make this unique offer.

Aria acknowledged that her approach might be perceived as somewhat manipulative.

The plan involved triggering Bella's conscience by offering her the spirit crystal and subtly pressuring her to join the party.

Aria felt a sense of urgency, realizing that forming a reliable team for the upcoming dungeon exams was crucial.

Both she and Bella were often considered loners in their department—Bella due to her aloofness and frequent napping, and Aria because of her noble status that created a barrier with some classmates.

Aria hoped that the spirit crystal could serve as a bridge between them, fostering a connection that would benefit both of them in the challenging days ahead.

As Analise meticulously dressed up Aria, her skilled hands working wonders with each strand of hair, Aria couldn't help but appreciate the result when she caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror.

Analise's compliments only added to her satisfaction, and with a genuine smile, Aria expressed her gratitude for the beautiful job Analise had done.

With a sense of urgency, Aria declared her departure, prompting Analise to wish her well. As she hurriedly left, Aria took a moment to glance at Louise, who was still peacefully asleep.

This departure from their usual routine caught Aria's attention, especially noting the subtle signs of sleep deprivation on Louise's face—dark circles under her eyes and indications of a night spent awake.

Concerned for her friend, Aria couldn't pinpoint the cause of Louise's distress but recognized the telltale signs of tears.

As Aria offered a parting instruction to Analise, emphasizing the importance of ensuring Louise got more sleep than usual, Analise assured her with a respectful acknowledgment.

"Yes, young lady" Analise replied with a soft giggle, appreciating Aria's caring nature toward Louise.

The door closed behind Aria, leaving Analise alone with the still-sleeping Louise, wondering about the unseen struggles her young mistress faced.

...

Aria let out another sigh as she contemplated the broken spirit crystal in her hands.

The unexpected mishap had caught her off guard, and she berated herself for daring to approach Bella's desk.

She should have known by now that Bella rarely relied on conventional means of transportation; her affinity for teleportation was well-known.

While most students teleported outside their classroom doors, Bella, being the enigmatic genius she was, had a tendency to break conventions and occasionally appeared right inside.

Feeling a mix of annoyance and resignation, Aria acknowledged that adjusting to Bella's unorthodox methods was an unwritten rule.

In a school where Bella's extraordinary talents overshadowed others, attempting to challenge or criticize her was an exercise in futility.

The unconventional nature of Bella's actions seemed to be a constant reminder to everyone that she existed in a league of her own.

Still holding the shattered spirit crystal, Aria contemplated her next move.

The gift, intended to entice Bella to join her party for the upcoming dungeon explorations, now lay broken in her hands.

"I guess, I just have to ask her honestly with no hidden motives"

Aria thought as she sighed once again realizing how ridiculous her plans were.

…..

In the bustling warehouse of the Commercial district, the air was thick with tension and the echoes of hurried footsteps.

The strained atmosphere seemed to be a result of the imposing figure of Armin Dieter, a corpulent man with a face that bore the signs of perpetual frustration and anger.

His excessive girth seemed to amplify his dominating presence as he barked orders at the workers, each command delivered with an air of impatience.

Spotting a worker who seemed to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, Armin's face contorted with rage, and he singled out the unfortunate soul with a pointed finger.

"Hey you!"

The worker, a meek figure with a sheen of sweat on his face, nervously approached Armin, fearing the impending storm.

"Yes, sir?" the worker stammered, a visible quiver in his voice.

"Come here!" Armin demanded, his voice carrying the weight of authority and anger.

As the worker approached, Armin's demeanor shifted abruptly. Without warning, he delivered a resounding slap across the worker's face.

The strike wasn't just a physical blow; it carried an additional force, infused with mana, that sent the worker sprawling through the air.

His neck twisted unnaturally during the descent, a grim sign of the severity of the injury he had sustained.

Gasps filled the air as onlookers registered the brutality of Armin's actions.

The worker, now struggling to breathe and coughing up blood, lay helpless on the ground.

Armin, driven by a blind rage, advanced towards the fallen man and mercilessly stomped on his battered body.

"Why the fuck! did you handle it so recklessly?" Armin roared, his anger unabated. The warehouse seemed to shrink under the weight of his fury.

The brutal onslaught continued until the worker's struggles ceased, and life left his broken body.

Armin, finally satisfied, looked down at the lifeless figure beneath him, the consequences of his unchecked anger evident in the tragic outcome.

The echoes of Armin's furious outburst lingered in the warehouse as he scolded his workers, demanding they return to their tasks.

The intimidated laborers, not wanting to incur his wrath, swiftly resumed their duties, their eyes cast downward as they focused on their work.

Armin's gaze shifted from the subdued workers to the carefully packed crates sent directly by the powerful Duke Heiron.

A smug satisfaction played on his lips as he admired the valuable cargo.

The duke's instructions were clear—never allow a single crate to fall or be mishandled.

The contents were a closely guarded secret, and Armin had no intentions of prying into matters that could jeopardize his standing and, potentially, his life.

He ran his pudgy fingers over the crates, tracing the engraved seal of the Heiron family.

Each box bore the weight of responsibility and the implicit threat of consequences if something went awry.

The position Armin held, as head councilman and president of the Heiron Merchantry, was not a result of his intellect or cunning but rather his unwavering loyalty to the duke.

A smile crept across Armin's face as he envisioned the rewards and recognition that awaited him if he successfully carried out this task.

However, his satisfaction was marred by the recent incident with the careless worker.

His day could have been perfect, but the man's negligence had left a bitter taste.

As Armin continued to oversee the bustling activity in the warehouse, he reminded himself that absolute obedience to the duke's commands was the key to his continued prosperity.

"Loyalty really brings one, prosper and peace, I wonder if this is how those crazed holy citizen are towards the goddess"

Suddenly a man dressed in a butler outfit approached him.

"Master Armin..."

"What is it, Bond? I'm not in the mood right now," Armin grumbled, swatting away the bothersome atmosphere like an annoying insect.

He gestured for one of his maids to attend to him, a simple task to wipe away the beads of sweat that clung to his face.

Despite the early hour, Armin's face was already glistening with perspiration.

As the maid approached, Armin's demeanor took a darker turn.

His right arm suddenly seized the unsuspecting maid, and he callously subjected her to an inappropriate advance, his rough hand violating her sweet ample breasts.

The young maid, powerless in the face of her superior's authority, bit her lip to hold back tears and quelled the fear that surged within her.

Even Bond, the butler who had initially come to relay crucial information, couldn't bring himself to meet the young maid's gaze.

His eyes, filled with a mix of sympathy and discomfort, averted to the side as he stood witness to the unfortunate scene.

"Master, someone wishes to have a moment of your time. They are currently waiting in your office," Bond informed Armin, maintaining his composed stance.

"Huh? Who would meet me at this hour? I'm currently working right now. Couldn't they have reserved an appointment first? Tell them to wait until next week; I'm busy at the moment" Armin grumbled in frustration.

The significant task of overseeing the transfer of goods, personally sent by the duke, demanded his immediate attention.

Despite the chaos that ensued moments ago, Armin realized the importance of his direct involvement.

Moreover, the looming specter of paperwork made scheduling an appointment seem like a luxury he couldn't afford.

Turning his attention back to his maid

"Hey, you! What's your name?" he questioned, still fondling the young maid.

"R-Reina," she stammered, her eyes betraying the distress she felt.

"You must be new, huh?" Armin commented with a disgusting smile.

"Y-yes..."

"Good, good. Come to my office later. I'm gonna need you to help me with some stuff," he announced, his touch lingering on the young maid's cheek. He continued with a sinister tone.

"Don't worry; you're just going to help me relieve some stress, kuku."

Reina, overcome with discomfort and fear, could only nod weakly, trapped in a situation where her protests would likely fall on deaf ears.

Bond, meanwhile, observed the scene with a heavy heart, his eyes betraying a mix of empathy and helplessness.

Bond's composed voice cut through the tension, "Master, the one calling for you can't be ignored."

"Huh? Who the heck is it?" Armin demanded.

"It's Princess Christine De Alger Lumenia."

"Then why didn't you start with that, you useless—!" Armin's expletive-filled retort echoed as he abruptly cut off his own sentence. He didn't wait for Bond's response; instead, he hurriedly ran towards his office, shoving Bond aside in his haste.

While Armin was known for his arrogance and high-handedness, he wasn't ignorant of the consequences of offending certain individuals.

There were more than a few people he would not dare to displease, and Princess Christine happened to be one of them.

Regardless of his status, Armin understood the importance of punctuality in the presence of royalty, especially considering Princess Christine's reputation for delivering swift and severe punishments to those she found lacking in respect.

As Armin raced towards his office, the weight of potential consequences bore heavily on him.

Buckets of sweat formed on his face as the realization sank in that today might be the day his neck would fly freely in the air.

'Why is she calling for me in the first place, Fuck!'

Bond let out a sigh, a mixture of exasperation and amusement, as he watched his master's comical expression while Armin sprinted towards his carriage.

The chaotic scene settled momentarily as Armin's figure disappeared into the distance.

Turning his attention to the fallen maid, Bond offered a reassuring smile. "Are you okay?" he asked, extending his hand to help her up.

The young maid, still visibly shaken from the ordeal, hesitated for a moment before accepting Bond's assistance. "Y-yes," she stammered as she rose slowly, trauma etched on her face.

As if sensing the lingering distress in the air, Bond handed her a pouch of gold. The maid looked at the pouch in surprise, questioning, "T-this is?"

"Quit," Bond advised calmly. "That much money should suffice for you to live worry-free for a year. Find another job, and don't worry about Master Armin holding grudges. He's quite accustomed to maids quitting without notice." With a gentle push, he encouraged the young maid to leave immediately.

Turning back to the workers, Bond focused on giving orders, as if trying to distract himself from the recent incident.

"T-Thank you!" she exclaimed gratefully, bowing her head in a gesture of deep appreciation before swiftly running away.

The air in the warehouse shifted from tense to a semblance of normalcy, but Bond couldn't help but wonder how Armin's impromptu meeting with Princess Christine would unfold and what consequences it might carry.

"I hope his head would really fly off this time…..."