How to Survive as a Supporting Male Lead - Chapter 8.1
In the wretched flow of this novel, Iann had finally obtained an item that would let him thoroughly annoy Kallian before escaping!
Iann was convinced Kallian had fallen into the destined love trap with the Saintess, just as the storyline intended. Kallian’s piercing gaze scanned the Saintess from head to toe, despite her face being hidden beneath a cloak.
For the first time, Kallian was looking at someone else in Iann’s presence.
Iann shifted, trying to block Kallian’s line of sight to the Saintess, though his shorter height made it impossible.
“Ahem.”
Iann cleared his throat for no reason. Fortunately, it worked; Kallian’s gaze returned to Iann.
“Who is she?”
His tone was even sharper now. Iann, slowly backing away, answered vaguely.
“Uh, just… someone I know. She sent word that she was lost here, so I came to get her. Yeah, that’s it. That’s totally it.”
“What?”
“Anyway, the important thing is that she’s with me.”
Iann glanced back. Now that he’d firmly marked her as his, this was the perfect time to run before Kallian could start spouting off his fancy laws again.
‘Approximately twenty meters…’
Iann estimated his distance from Derrick and the Saintess, who were already mounted on a single horse. If he sprinted over and cast the teleport spell, everything would wrap up neatly.
While Iann was busy plotting his escape, Kallian’s patience was fraying fast. Watching Iann’s silver hair as he stood turned away, Kallian couldn’t resist taking a step forward. And just then, Iann broke into a run.
“Iann—”
“Goodbye! Take care!”
In an instant, a magic circle lit up beneath Iann, Derrick, and the Saintess, and the three vanished. Kallian, who had reflexively lunged after him, was left standing as they disappeared.
“…..”
Kallian clenched the hand that had nearly reached him, but there was nothing left in front of him. Iann, who had stirred up all this fuss, was suddenly gone.
Kallian felt something strange.
The fact that that Iann had just taken off without so much as a goodbye, that he’d shielded a “woman” right before his eyes, that he’d turned his back on him with hardly a word and fled, that he’d been more focused on something—or someone—else even while standing there with Kallian…
None of it was like him. For some reason, these details left a bitter taste.
“Your Grace.”
Kallian’s aide, who’d been standing a step back due to Kallian’s usual habit of sending people away when Iann was near, called out to him. Kallian didn’t look his way but spoke in a calm tone.
“Iann… no, the Tower Master seems to have taken a woman. Do you know who she is?”
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t make out much from a distance.”
Only after asking did Kallian realize how pointless the question was. No one could know Iann better than he did.
But his tense nerves pushed him to keep probing.
“Have you ever seen the Tower Master with a woman?”
“Never.”
“Any related information?”
“None. In fact, I’ve heard the elders of the Tower are rather concerned.”
“Of course. I knew that.”
It was all the information he already had. There was nothing more to ask. And yet, Kallian found himself desperate to know more about the woman Iann had taken.
“Of course… I know…”
But when it came to her, he knew nothing at all. She was clearly someone tied to Iann, and yet he knew nothing about her. That realization irritated him to no end.
“I don’t like this.”
Yes. Oddly enough, it was intolerably displeasing.
* * *
Even as the one leading the life of “that guy who never thinks things through,” Iann could be meticulous when it came to serious matters. And bringing the future Saintess to his home was a big one.
The Saintess’s divine power was not only a pivotal part of her romance arc with Kallian but also an ability that could shift the fate of the empire. As the novel progressed, the focus on the war against monsters grew to the point that it was hard to tell if it was a romance fantasy or just straight fantasy. The author may have written about the war simply to keep the story interesting, but for Iann, reincarnated inside this novel, it was a harsh reality—and a curse.
