Chapter 258: The Witch and the Demon King
"So, do you think Lelouch can handle the emperor?"
After the banter, they began discussing serious matters.
C.C. curled her legs, resting her cheek against her knees as she tilted her head to gaze at him with her amber eyes.
"Otherwise?"
Mahiro took off his coat, hung it neatly in the wardrobe, unbuttoned his shirt, rolled up his sleeves, and plopped down beside C.C.
"Oh, I didn't expect you to have such high expectations of him."
"Aren't you the same, C.C.? If you didn't believe in Lelouch, why would you have formed a contract with him?"
"That's because..."
"Because of Marianne?"
Mahiro cut her off, looking directly into her eyes where he saw confirmation.
Perhaps it was truly a desperate longing for death back then—a case of grasping at straws. The wandering C.C. chose to believe Marianne and Emperor Charles' words, temporarily staying within the palace.
She formed a Geass contract with Marianne and even assisted in their research on Geass and Code.
In a way, she could be considered the mother of Lelouch and Nunnally.
After all, these siblings were born for her sake.
"Don't worry, Lelouch has perfectly inherited Charles' bloodline. Just as I told you back in Shinjuku—you've personally given birth to a demon god capable of destroying the world.
He just needs time to grow. Once matured, no one but himself will be able to oppose Lelouch."
Whether in strategy or courage, Lelouch could be considered top-tier—only his frail physical body held him back.
Yet C.C. merely responded with a disinterested "Oh," before picking up the last slice of pizza from the Pizza Hut box and slowly chewing it.
This woman remained as willful as ever—starting topics at her whim and ending them just as capriciously.
Soon, the final pizza slice vanished into C.C.'s stomach.
"...I might have eaten a bit too much. I'm so full I could die."
C.C. leaned back, collapsing onto the soft bed while gently stroking her slightly bulging stomach.
"Want to try dying once? It's not like you can actually die anyway—might as well reset your condition."
Mahiro said jokingly.
But C.C. nodded seriously, continuing his train of thought:
"Yes, that's actually a good idea, Mahiro. But I don't need your help. As long as I keep eating pizza, I can relieve this suffering."
"Ha, truly worthy of being the Pizza Witch."
Only this Witch would consider eating herself to death with pizza—you'd be hard-pressed to find another like her.
Yet watching C.C. joke with him like a child—so different from the imposing queen or the cold Witch indifferent to life—he found every version equally lovely and beautiful.
It's just a pity all this existed in a Witch who solely desired death.
However, at that moment, C.C.'s expression suddenly turned serious, her smile vanishing as she regained her usual composure.
"You know, Mahiro. Eating pizza is actually one of the reasons for my existence in this world. I was designed to do this."
"Huh?"
Watching C.C. suddenly become abstract as if having an episode, Mahiro's gaze gradually turned strange.
"That's right, exactly. Back at the Aries Imperial Palace, didn't you always want to know my real name? Well, I'll tell you now. Actually, my name is Cheese-Crust."
"Cheese-Crust? That name suits you well, Pizza Witch."
"Tch, didn't fool you, huh?"
Seeing his mocking grin, C.C. knew her little trick had failed.
"You really are a boring man..."
"Of course, what do you take me for? You think such a low-level trick could fool me? At least come up with something more sophisticated. Cheese-Crust—does that sound like a name a human would have?"
Saying this, Mahiro shot C.C. a big eye-roll and put on a fierce expression.
"If you pull this kind of boring joke again, I'll force myself on you!"
"Oh, really? Then come at me, kid... perfect for some post-meal exercise."
Completely unfazed by Mahiro's threat, C.C. shamelessly rolled over, carefully stuck on her Pizza Hut sticker, and lay face down on the bed.
The Witch even deliberately teased him, hooking her legs and slowly spreading them.
Her skirt lifted slightly.
In the dim light, a glimpse of grassy green came into view.
"Tch, trying to provoke me?"
C.C. didn't speak, just turned her head and smiled lightly at him, as if she didn't care about anything. Her cool amber eyes reflected his figure, tinged with a hint of mockery.
This woman...
"You really think I won't dare, don't you!"
Mahiro immediately flipped over and pinned her down on her slender, sexy thighs. As the bed dipped, C.C. couldn't help but let out a soft moan.
"Mmm... I knew it, you're still as impatient as ever, you brat!"
"That's your own fault!"
...
A few days later.
"Hello, viewers. This is Britannia ACC Television. Recently, Her Highness Princess Cornelia has arrived in Area 11 to succeed the late Prince Clovis, who sacrificed his life in a recent terrorist attack, as the Governor of Area 11. Upon her arrival, Princess Cornelia immediately implemented sweeping reforms and led our nation's territorial expansion forces to suppress the terrorists in Area 11."
"Under Her Highness's campaign, most terrorists have been eliminated, with the exception of the 'Japan Liberation Front,' composed of former Japanese military personnel. Princess Cornelia has issued an ultimatum to the Japan Liberation Front, demanding their immediate surrender. So far, the Japan Liberation Front has yet to respond."
"However, in her benevolence, Princess Cornelia has decided to first conduct a siege operation in the Saitama Ghetto, where the terrorists are hiding. Her Highness will personally command the operation on-site."
The traffic restriction order has been issued! The operation will officially commence in two hours, with the next target area being...
Cornelia's actions were broadcast to everyone through news channels across Area 11. To ordinary people, this appeared to be Cornelia's cleanup operation in the Tokyo Settlement after crushing terrorist organizations in other concessions.
However, a select few knew the true purpose behind Cornelia's operation, such as Mahiro, who was currently watching the news report on television in his room.
"How utterly arrogant, Cornelia."
Announcing the time, location, and combat personnel outright. This was clearly an invitation for Lelouch... no, rather for ZERO to join her in a dance.
Though this stage was built upon blades and blood, where a single misstep could lead to eternal damnation.
"So, do you think Lelouch will accept this provocation?"
"He will, of course he will. After all, they both inherited Charles' bloodline—the same arrogance."
As he spoke, Mahiro turned his head to look at the bed. There lay C.C., also watching television while wearing his white shirt. Her slender legs were unconsciously exposed as she lazily stretched her perfect body, completely indifferent to Mahiro's blatant gaze.
There really was no need for concern. They had been living together long enough—what could and couldn't be done had already been done. If anything, after each passionate encounter, C.C. could feel she was still alive beyond just eating pizza.
What she didn't realize was how irresistibly alluring her current attire made her. Or perhaps she did notice—evident from the sly smile gradually forming on her face.
She continued: "The current Lelouch probably isn't a match for Cornelia yet, right?"
C.C. knew a thing or two about this War Goddess of the battlefield. Mahiro shrugged in agreement: "Of course not. If it were the Red Moon resistance force, there might be some chance. But with just those Saitama terrorists? Zero probability of victory."
Because Kallen was in Red Moon. Used properly, combined with their habitual "floor-flipping" tactics, turning the tables against Cornelia wasn't impossible. But those Saitama terrorists were, frankly, worse than ragtag militias—mere terrorists without even proper organization. How could they possibly fight against Cornelia's personally trained royal guard?
"Hmm..." Hearing this, C.C. smiled enchantingly: "Then what will you do next? Help out like you did in Shinjuku?"
"No." Mahiro refused outright.
"My, such an answer doesn't sound like you, Mahiro. Aren't you Lelouch's teacher?"
"I'm his teacher, not his nanny."
"Is there a difference?"
"A huge difference!"
Facing C.C.'s teasing, Mahiro shot her a disdainful look before gazing out the window with a melancholic sigh: "The Shinjuku incident was just the novice protection period—merely helping share some of his burden."
"Moreover, Lelouch has been getting too arrogant lately, completely carried away by his last victory. A proper setback is needed to make him truly recognize his limitations."
"Aren't you afraid he might get captured?"
"Why should I be afraid?"
Brilliant.
Mahiro retorted, then smiled faintly. "Rather, I'm looking forward to Cornelia capturing him and discovering his true identity. Cornelia's expression at that moment would definitely be priceless."
"Actually, I thought you'd be begging me on your knees to help Lelouch. I'm surprised you're so calm about this."
"Aren't you afraid your recently contracted partner might die?"
"If you're not afraid, why should I be?"
C.C. threw his words back at him, then slowly rose from her seductive reclining position on the bed. Her amber eyes stared back at him defiantly, filled with their usual calmness as she enunciated each word clearly:
"I believe between you and Lelouch, you have a better chance of fulfilling my wish."
"So you're abandoning Lelouch just like that? What a cold-hearted Witch you are." Mahiro teased with a hint of mockery.
C.C. responded with an equally sarcastic smile:
"Aren't you the same? Mr. Heartless Demon King who wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice even his former student."
Their conversation concluded with this mutual banter.
True to his word, Mahiro showed no intention of going to Saitama, instead going to work as usual.
And just as expected, Lelouch's seat was empty again, with Shirley covering for him by claiming he was sick.
What a clumsy lie.
Living in the same house, how could he not know about Lelouch's actual physical condition?
Not to mention how awkward Shirley looked when she said it - her face flushed red, her toes curling so hard in her shoes she could probably dig out a villa from the floor.
However, he also noticed that Milly, usually the most cheerful and lively student council president, seemed particularly quiet today.
Even during class, she kept spacing out, appearing distracted.
She didn't even notice when they bumped into each other in the hallway after school.
"Hey, who's been bothering our most lively and adorable Milly?"
"Ah..."
Milly's body trembled slightly as she hurriedly looked up. Recognizing him, she forced a smile: "Sorry, sensei, I was... thinking about some things."
"Must be something really troubling you then? If you don't mind, you can tell your teacher about it. Maybe I can help you think of a solution."
Mahiro said with a smile, his gaze resting on Milly's pretty face.
Though her light golden curls still exuded their usual aristocratic elegance, her eyes appeared somewhat unfocused and distant. Her complexion looked poor, giving her a deeply melancholic appearance.
She had completely lost her usual vitality.
After he asked, hesitation surfaced on Milly's face again. She forced another faint smile -
"It's nothing, just some family matters..."
"I see, I understand, teacher. Milly, you can come find me anytime when you feel ready to talk."
Mahiro offered a polite smile before turning to leave.
Since she didn't wish to speak, he had no interest in prying further—that would have been rather impolite.
However, just as he brushed past Milly, his sleeve was suddenly caught by a pale, delicate hand.
"?"
Puzzled, Mahiro turned his head to find Milly gazing at him with profound intensity, her eyes carrying a hint of pleading.
Before he could speak, Milly took the initiative:
"Um... Teacher, actually there's something I'd like to ask of you. Would you be willing to become my fiancé?"
"? ? ?"
These words completely plunged Mahiro into confusion and shock.
As for why Milly would say such a thing, we need to rewind to this morning...
"Yes... I understand, Mother. I'll prepare for the arranged meeting as you said."
In the principal's office, Milly stood before the desk holding the telephone, speaking respectfully to the person on the other end.
Gently hanging up the phone, Milly sighed helplessly.
That call had been from the current wife of the Ashford family head—her mother.
The purpose was to prepare her for an arranged marriage.
The reason could only be attributed to the Ashford family's currently precarious situation.
Though outwardly she was the granddaughter of Ashford Academy's principal with a noble title, in reality the Ashford family now retained only the hollow shell of aristocracy—the substance had long been emptied out.
Even this superficial dignity was becoming difficult to maintain.
The support was fading.
Simply because their family's title wasn't hereditary—once the elder Ashford passed away, the entire family would be stripped of their noble status.
The Ashford family's remaining assets would inevitably be plundered by greedy nobles.
Such is the final fate of fallen aristocracy!
As to how this came about, we must speak of Marianne from years past.
Back then, Marianne had captured Emperor Charles's attention with her exceptional abilities and successfully married him, becoming the imperial consort.
Unfortunately, Marianne was originally a commoner. Even though she had previously attained the position of Knight, she couldn't be considered part of the renowned nobility, nor did she have any aristocratic family backing her.
Had this continued, had Marianne ever fallen out of favor, her final fate would have been neglect and obscurity.
Therefore, the Ashford family of that time approached Marianne and proposed a collaborative relationship.
Naturally, Marianne gladly accepted.
History proved the Ashford family's decision correct—they committed their entire family's resources to steadfastly supporting Consort Marianne, while Marianne enjoyed Charles's particular affection.
Thus, the Ashford family's status rose accordingly, gradually achieving exceptional prominence, with even their family business reaching its peak.
At that time, the most sought-after and lucrative Knightmare production and research projects fell into Ashford's hands.
At that time, the Ashford family was the most prestigious noble house in Britannia.
They were in no way inferior to the eight great historic families; one could say the only thing the Ashford family lacked back then was a hereditary title.
Unfortunately, the good times didn't last, as decline always follows swiftly after glory.
When Marianne was killed, when the living turned into the dead, Ashford lost its greatest pillar of support.
The noble families they had once opposed returned with a vengeance. Without their protector, they were left vulnerable, and nearly all their former connections became useless. The family not only lost almost all their wealth but was now on the verge of losing their noble title as well.
Helpless, the downcast Ashfords still clung to their hollow reputation and shamefully relocated from Britannia to Area 11, exhausting their last financial resources and connections to establish this Ashford Academy.
But now, with the elder Ashford growing older and the family lacking a new generation to shoulder the burden, there was only one path left to preserve their noble title and the family's final vestiges of honor:
They had no choice but to seek a marriage alliance.
Thus, the head of the Ashford family exhausted every means to establish ties with the supremely influential Asplund family.
The plan was to secure their family's survival through this marriage.
And Milly Ashford became the sacrificial lamb in this alliance.
Maintaining the family's status was also Milly's duty.
"Don't want to go to the matchmaking, Mi—...."
Just as Milly was struggling internally, the elderly Ashford sat in his thick leather chair with his back to her. The old man's gaze was kind and serene as he looked through the large glass window, taking in the entire Ashford Academy.
Yet, even knowing his time was limited and that they might not even be able to keep the academy, the elder Ashford still asked his granddaughter's opinion in a calm tone.
Milly shook her head and said firmly:
"No, Grandfather. If the family requires it, I will follow Mother's instructions."
"ADJAO...."
Hearing Milly's response, the elder Ashford chuckled.
"No need to say such insincere words in front of your grandfather. I can understand how you feel right now, Milly...."
The aged family head spoke quietly while gazing out the window.
He had weathered too many storms in his life, experienced the family's glory and its downfall. All that there was to enjoy, he had enjoyed; all that there was to experience, he had experienced.
For him, there was nothing left to hold onto.
If he had to name one thing, it would be this pitiable granddaughter.
Thinking of this, the elder Ashford slowly turned his chair to face his granddaughter standing before the desk. A kindly smile appeared on his aged face.
"Milly, my granddaughter. I know you must have heard about the peculiar temperament of that Asplund boy, and that his agreement to marry into our family surely has ulterior motives..."
"If you truly don't like this, your grandfather has other ways."
"Grandfather, what ways are you referring to?"
Milly asked almost instinctively.
But her expression was like that of a drowning person clutching at their last lifeline.
"Hehe, that would be to seek out Mahiro and ask for his help. If it's him, he will surely be able to rescue you from this sea of suffering, while also preserving our Ashford family."
As he spoke these words, a glint of shrewdness flashed in old Ashford's clouded, aged eyes.
Unlike the current head of the Ashford family, the elder Ashford held Mahiro in high regard.
Even though Mahiro had merely been granted the surname Yotsuba by Charles and lacked any familial backing, even though he was originally just an ordinary royal tutor.
But the elder Ashford understood clearly that the man himself was his greatest support, his own greatest family.
Long ago, through his connection with Marianne, he had been fortunate enough to meet Mahiro once, and at that time, he was so young.
Yet now, when seeing him again, that person remained just as youthful.
With methods that seemed capable of preserving eternal youth, could someone harboring such secrets possibly be an ordinary commoner?
Even if his son believed he was growing senile and losing his sharpness.
The elder Ashford still firmly trusted his own judgment.
If there was anyone who could protect the Ashford family, it would definitely not be any of the so-called eight great noble houses—it could only be Mahiro alone!