The Slime Doesn't Die from Mana Transfer-Chapter 110 : Aftermath

The office was filled with solemn stillness. Only the soft scratching of a quill across parchment and the occasional rustle of turning pages broke the silence.
Wills sat upright behind his broad mahogany desk, brows slightly furrowed as he read through a stack of official papers.
The afternoon sunlight slanted through the window, outlining the sharp edges of his face with a cold gleam.
“Brother!”
A cheerful voice rang out as the oak door burst open with a
“bang!”
A lively young girl skipped into the office, her entrance shattering the heavy quiet.
“Rozelite” lifted her skirt daintily and ran in with a bright smile, her golden hair bouncing with every step.
Wills’s quill paused mid-stroke. He raised his head slightly but said nothing.
“Rozelite” was long used to his cool attitude and didn’t mind in the least. She leaned on the desk, blinking her sky-blue eyes curiously.
“Brother is always so busy! You don’t even have time for afternoon tea. Once you become king, you’ll be even busier, won’t you?”
“Something like that,” Wills replied absently.
The girl’s smile faltered just a little. She could sense it—today, Wills seemed even colder than usual.
Tilting her head, she asked softly, her tone tinged with genuine concern.
“Brother, did something happen? You seem… sterner than usual today.”
She moved around the desk, her voice turning gentle.
“Then let me give you a shoulder massage! I’m really good at it, you know.”
She reached out toward his shoulders—
But before she could touch him, Wills’s voice cut through the air.
“Roze has come back.”
“Eh?”
“Roze. I mean… the real Rozelite.”
“…”
The girl froze for a heartbeat.
Then the playful smile on her lips melted away, vanishing like snow in sunlight.
What replaced it was a quiet, knowing curve of the lips.
“I see. So Lady Rozelite has returned. In other words—Lord Wills, you summoned me here for this, didn’t you?”
Wills didn’t answer. He simply looked at her in silence.
The false “Rozelite” lifted her left hand. A thin, translucent glove shimmered faintly on her skin—nearly invisible until she peeled it off. Beneath it gleamed a small, delicate ring on her finger.
She slipped the ring free and placed it gently on the desk before him.
And at that moment, her appearance began to change.
The long golden hair vanished, replaced by short, reddish-brown locks brushing her shoulders. Her pale, youthful complexion dimmed slightly, faint freckles appearing across her cheeks. The sky-blue eyes darkened into a deep, ordinary black.
In only a few seconds, the radiant princess had transformed into someone completely different.
When the change was done, she stepped back quietly.
If the real Rozelite had been there, she would have recognized her instantly. This woman was Vera, her former personal maid.
Only someone who had served Rozelite at such close proximity—day and night—could have imitated her so perfectly: the tone of voice, every tiny habit, even the unconscious gestures Rozelite herself never noticed.
During the months Rozelite had been gone, Vera had been acting as her substitute, using enchanted tools to disguise herself as the princess—and she had fooled everyone.
Had nothing changed, the secret might have remained buried forever. Vera would have continued living as “Rozelite” until the time came for the truth to die with her.
But now that the real Rozelite had returned—
There was no more need for the stand-in.
“Your parents and younger brother,” Wills said quietly, “I’ll see to it that they’re cared for. A monthly sum will be sent to them. Is there anything else you want?”
“Lord Wills has already treated me far too kindly,” Vera said, her tone calm and steady.
“I have no other requests—only… if Lady Rozelite ever asks about me, please tell her I returned to my hometown. I wouldn’t want her to be sad.”
“…All right. You may go in peace.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Vera bowed slightly.
At that very moment, the door opened.
A young man stepped inside, his face expressionless. Without hesitation, he drew a short sword from his waist and, with a swift, fluid motion, plunged it straight into Vera’s heart.
He covered her mouth before she could cry out, supporting her as her body went limp, lowering her gently to the floor.
When he released her—Vera was already gone.
Outside the palace, few would have believed what they’d just seen. The one who had done this looked no older than sixteen or seventeen.
“Take care of the body,” Wills said quietly, eyes never leaving his paperwork.
“Make sure no one sees.”
“I’m not here to do
that kind
of work,” the boy said darkly. His tone carried a faint irritation.
“There are plenty of people who can handle dirty jobs like this. Why me? Don’t tell me—the great First Prince, soon to be King, doesn’t have a single proper cleaner on hand?”
“I just thought you could use the practice,” Wills replied, glancing up at him.
“You’ll probably encounter situations like this more often in the future.”
“Heh.”
The boy gave a short, mocking laugh, clearly unimpressed.
After all, he was the new generation Sword Saint of the Charlotte family. Given time, he would become the strongest swordsman in the kingdom.
Wills suddenly remembered something.
“Oh, right. In the next few days, get ready—you’re going to the Rhine Royal Magic Academy.”
The boy blinked.
“To do what? Is there a mission?”
“To attend classes.”
“…Hah?”
“And keep an eye on Rozelite for me.”
“Heh, I knew it,” the boy snorted.
“But I have to say, who would’ve guessed? The future king himself, this overprotective toward his little sister?”
Wills sighed, a trace of helplessness in his voice.
“She’s changed too much since she came back. My instincts tell me she’s still the same Rozelite I once knew… but something happened to her. If it’s something good, I’ll be relieved—but if it’s something bad…”
He trailed off.
His father’s last words before death still lodged in his throat like a splinter.
If Rozelite’s very existence ever threatened the kingdom… Would he, as king, be able to make the same choice his father did?
The thought drew a faint, self-mocking smile from Wills.
Perhaps that was why his father had taken the truth to the grave. Not to protect a secret—but to spare him from facing the same impossible choice.