I Became the Mastermind Who Betrays the Heroines

[Translator - Peptobismol]

[Proofreader - Demon God]

Chapter 128 - The Ball (1)

Brilliant lights illuminated the ballroom.

A gentle melody drifted through the air.

Dressed in suits and gowns, the students moved about the grand hall, enjoying the festivities of the evening.

We stepped into the lively scene, taking in the sights and sounds.

The event had been meticulously arranged.

It seemed the academy had spared no effort, perhaps due to the high expectations surrounding it.

The fresh, youthful atmosphere naturally brought a smile to my lips.

"Fufu."

I turned to the side.

Crimson eyes, already watching me, met my gaze.

I returned her stare with an easy smile, letting a bit of playfulness seep into my words.

A comment on her attire.

"Come to think of it… this is my first time seeing you dressed like this."

"I usually prefer wearing something comfortable."

"The dress suits you well."

"I’m a little too old to be pleased by flattery… but I’ll accept the sentiment."

"What a shame. I was being sincere."

She shook her head as if to dismiss my words.

But I hadn’t been lying in the slightest.

There was an undeniable charm in the mature elegance she exuded.

Her figure, so alluring it was difficult to look elsewhere.

The black dress that accentuated her decadent beauty.

The neckline that emphasized her ample curves.

And lastly, the quiet intensity in her crimson eyes.

Her captivating presence drew attention from both men and women alike.

Especially… in certain areas.

Had it not been for my perpetually half-lidded gaze, I might’ve been caught staring like an idiot.

Forcing myself to maintain composure, I casually continued the conversation.

"Were you able to wrap up your work?"

"I had help, after all."

"I only handled the basic paperwork."

"And that was more than enough."

"That’s a relief."

"Thanks to you, my schedule is clear. I can accompany you for the evening without concern."

"Hearing that puts a smile on my face."

"Flattery again?"

"Once more, I’m being honest."

Lighthearted chatter.

Though she had initially seemed uncomfortable, maintaining silence, she eventually responded to my efforts.

The teasing lilt in my voice chipped away at her usual impassiveness.

Slowly, the distance between us softened.

We moved together, side by side.

I could feel the attention of the students around us.

A beauty that was difficult to ignore.

"My Lord…!"

"I was wondering where you had disappeared to. So this is where you were."

As we walked toward the center of the ballroom, familiar voices called out.

The ones who had not come with me tonight.

Rather than finding new partners, it seemed they had chosen to pair among themselves.

After all, there was no strict rule that attendance had to be in male-female pairs.

Regia and Irene.

Charlotte and Elise.

And Emilia, who had arrived with her younger brother.

Seeing them in their dresses was a new sight.

They had always seemed youthful and fresh, but now, a hint of maturity was beginning to bloom.

One by one, I gently ruffled their hair.

"You all look wonderful."

They each reacted differently.

Pink, blue, platinum, red, and orange hair—each girl left behind a response in turn.

Their warmth lingered against my fingertips.

"Ugh… I’m not used to wearing something like this. D-Do you think it’s okay for me to wear such expensive clothes…?"

"It’s not like I dressed up just for you or anything."

"Mm. You look nice too, Judas."

"Not like it matters—I’m stuck in this wheelchair anyway."

"…Dresses are definitely uncomfortable. But if you like it, I suppose I don’t mind."

Especially…

The pilot, a commoner, and the fox, a beastkin from the continent’s outskirts, both seemed awkward in their dresses, moving stiffly.

Even that unfamiliarity was endearing.

Was it truly just about showing off their dresses?

After exchanging brief pleasantries, they turned to leave.

They had mentioned something about fairness—not interfering.

I had no idea what they meant by that.

Though, I did notice Elise and Irene casting particularly sharp glares at Selena.

As if they were sizing up a competitor.

And then, Irene had leaned in to whisper—

"Remember this… in the end, your final choice will be me."

A meaningful smile.

The brief graze of her teeth against my earlobe as she passed.

She really did intend to devour me whole.

No gratitude whatsoever.

And with that, the girls vanished.

Selena quietly remarked,

"Their gazes were quite… intense."

"Haha… Allow me to apologize. Some of them are particularly sharp-edged."

"I don’t mind. It didn’t bother me."

"Thank you for your understanding."

Fortunately, she seemed indifferent.

Now, I could finally focus on the ball.

Or so I thought—

This time, it was a faculty member who approached.

None other than Professor Kadel, the man I had thoroughly humiliated during the tournament.

He greeted us with a smile.

Or rather, he greeted Selena.

"An unexpected face. I never imagined you’d attend an event like this."

"Professor Kadel."

"You always acted as if you had no interest in the world. What changed? What breeze pushed you out of your lab?"

"That’s hardly any of your concern."

"Still as unpleasant as ever."

"And you remain as petty as ever."

"Ha."

The same petty provocations.

Did he never tire of this?

Despite being crushed last time, he still couldn’t help but throw the first stone.

I considered stepping in, but Selena held me back.

She didn’t want to waste energy on meaningless disputes.

Then, in a murmur, he added—

"Your leisure won’t last much longer."

"……"

"The storm is closer than you think."

A cryptic remark.

With an eerie smirk, Kadel turned away.

His eyes, filled with ominous intent, left a foul taste in the air.

"Judas… we should talk later. There’s something I’d like to discuss with you in private."

Something to discuss, he said.

Unsettling.

But I nodded.

"I won’t avoid it."

"Good."

That seemed to be all he had to say.

He turned his back on us, parting with a final remark.

"Then, enjoy your evening."

And with that, he disappeared into the crowd.

Selena watched his retreating figure with empty eyes.

A heavy silence settled between us.

Was she about to sink into her thoughts again?

Before she could drift away, I tightened my grip on her hand and whispered,

Letting a touch of warmth slip into my voice—

"Focus on me."

"…Judas?"

"Didn’t you agree to accompany me? A partner shouldn’t be distracted, you know. It’s rather heartbreaking."

"That’s quite rich, coming from someone who was just surrounded by women."

"Is that so?"

I laughed aloud.

Our gazes met.

"It doesn’t matter now."

Just then, the music swelled.

A melody to signal the true beginning of the ball.

The students around us took their partners’ hands, blending into the scene.

A soft, elegant rhythm guided their steps.

And then—

The snake and the drunkard began to move.

"I’ll lead."

"Do as you wish."

A slow, graceful waltz.

The distance between us narrowed.

The warmth of her breath mingled with mine.

A delicate scent tickled my senses.

Rational thought blurred, and we drifted closer still.

Close enough to feel each other’s heartbeat.

Their rhythmic pulses seemed to synchronize.

“......”

Somewhere in the crowd, students watched.

Perhaps drawn by the stark contrast between the youthful innocence of their peers—

And the sheer magnetism of mature allure.

Eyes followed us, filled with admiration.

Or desire.

But we did not stop.

And so, the night continued—

With the snake leading the dance,

And the drunkard caught in his arms.

—Sssk.

His hand rested lightly on her waist as they continued their waltz.

The once-gentle tempo gradually picked up speed.

Following his lead, the woman moved in step—until, with a quiet breath, she murmured,

"As expected… dancing is difficult."

Something was off.

He had assumed she would be quite skilled, yet her movements wavered more often than not.

Her balance was precarious, likely due to the heels she wore.

Was it because it had been a long time?

She had always expressed a dislike for people. It was entirely possible she had little experience with ballroom events.

And now, as the tempo increased, her steps began to falter.

She was struggling to keep up.

Her footwork, already unsteady, grew clumsier.

By the time he realized it—

It was too late.

"Ah…!"

In the midst of stabilizing her stance, her ankle twisted.

Selena nearly fell.

He caught her just in time, preventing the worst, but in doing so—

They ended up tangled in each other's arms.

Their body heat pressed together, neither willing nor able to pull away.

A quiet gasp escaped her lips.

Pain?

It seemed the dance had taken more of a toll on her than she had let on.

As he held her steady, he quickly assessed the situation.

‘Her ankle… It looks like a proper sprain.’

She wouldn’t be able to continue the ball like this.

First, he needed to tend to her injury.

With onlookers already watching, lingering here any longer would only invite more attention.

It was best to leave the hall.

He turned to her and asked,

"Master."

"……"

"Can you walk on your own?"

A pause.

Then, softly—

"…I’m sorry."

"No need to apologize."

He shook his head.

The fault was his.

He had assumed she would be comfortable with the dance—assumed she was used to this kind of setting.

But not only was she unfamiliar with dancing, she was unused to the ball itself.

The stiff gown, the high heels—it was as if all of this was new to her.

"I’ll take care of it."

"…What?"

Gently, he adjusted his grip.

Then, without hesitation—

He lifted her into his arms.

The infamous ‘princess carry.’

For the first time, those usually half-lidded crimson eyes widened.

Completely caught off guard.

"J-Judas…?"

"Shh."

A rare moment—Selena stumbling over her words.

He simply smiled in response, offering no room for argument, and carried her out of the ballroom without a word.

Around them, the students had stopped dancing.

All eyes were on them now.

Curious. Intrigued.

Their gazes followed him, but he paid them no mind.

“.....”

"Excuse us."

And with that, he walked on.

Leaving behind hushed whispers.

And the sight—Of the snake carrying the drunkard master away.

[Translator - Peptobismol]

[Proofreader - Demon God]