Meanwhile, at House Artezia, an emergency had been declared.
“…So you’re telling me that the Lord of Miphra has refused my request?”
The butler, nervously gauging Duke Artezia’s mood, replied, “Y-yes, sir.”
The next moment—
“You call that an answer?!”
Crash!
The Duke hurled the flowerpot from his desk with a bellow.
The pot shattered, sending shards skittering across the floor. A few slivers grazed the butler’s forehead, and he valiantly tried to stanch the blood trickling down his brow, swallowing a groan.
“What have you been doing while things got this bad?!”
“Ugh… I-I’m sorry, sir.”
“Nothing is ever done properly around here!”
The Duke fumed, spewing his anger relentlessly.
At this, the head butler, who had been standing nearby, bowed deeply and spoke up. “Your Grace, please calm yourself. Didn’t the physician warn you about your blood pressure?”
“Calm myself? Now?!”
“Even so, Your Grace, you must. It wouldn’t do for your health to suffer over a loss as minor as this.”
“…Hah.” The Duke barely managed to suppress his fury at the head butler’s words.
Then, turning to the butler who was still pressing his hand to his bleeding head, he spoke again. “Where’s Martin? He was supposed to be responsible for this.”
“Y-Young Master Martin is currently… unreachable, sir.”
“Ha! They’re really making a mess of things. Go find out who’s supposed to be keeping in touch with him. And Hera—bring that wretch here, too.”
“Y-yes, sir!” The butler pressed his wound tightly to stop the bleeding, then bowed his head.
As the butler and the head butler left the office together, The Duke slumped into his chair, exhaling a sigh heavy with rage.
“Is it too much to ask for even one person around here to be competent?”
He ground his teeth, forcing down his anger.
The Miph Merchant Guild, which he had entrusted to Martin, had now informed him they would no longer accept his support.
The Lord of Miphra insisted on giving vague responses, declaring he would shut down Miph Casino.
And Martin, in the midst of it all, had vanished without a trace.
There was chaos, and then there was this—a level of absurdity that defied even the most creative curses.
Duke Artezia clenched his fist so tightly it cricked and chewed his lower lip.
He’d once fancied himself a master cultivator of children. But as it turned out, this year’s harvest was nothing but husks—no grain, all chaff.
“Perhaps… it’d be better to bring in a bastard or two.”
He sighed, drumming his fingers on the desk with weary resignation.
Just then—
“Father, it’s Hera.”
Hera Artezia entered the Duke’s office.
The Duke eyed Hera, resplendent in a fanciful dress, and twisted his lips into a sneer. He remarked, “You look well. Quite the picture of sophistication.”
“Thank you.”
“Ha… Thank you…? Well yes, you ought to be grateful. If you feel even a speck of guilt for all the money I’ve poured into raising the likes of you, then yes, you’d better be grateful indeed.”
He spat out the words with sarcasm, then rose from his seat.
One step. Two steps. He closed the distance to Hera and spoke again. “With a face like that, I assume you’ve already finished the job I gave you. Haven’t you?”
“I… Not yet, no.”
“Not yet…”
Slap—!
Hera’s cheek swelled red as her head snapped to the side.
“I, I’m sorry—”
“Don’t you dare toss around apologies so lightly. Didn’t I tell you to get rid of that scoundrel from Berg County?”
“…”
“I don’t care if you become the lady of Count Dragunov’s house, sell yourself to Dragunov’s son, or do whatever it takes—I told you to make sure that wastrel is dead and gone!”
“…I do have a method, but I’m still checking if it’s certain.”
“While sitting there all prim and proper, are you?” The Duke shot Hera a withering look, then shook his head and turned away. “That’s enough.”
He returned to his seat and continued. “Bring me a definite answer by the end of this month. If you don’t show results, I’ll marry you off to Marquis Miritz myself. Understood?”
At the mention of Marquis Miritz, Hera’s eyes grew round as saucers as she called out to the Duke. “F-Father…!”
Marquis Miritz was a decrepit old man, nearly sixty. A depraved nobleman with a reputation for chasing women and, on more than one occasion, strangling them after the deed was done.
That was the illustrious Marquis Miritz in all his sordid glory.
“That’s not fair…! How could you even consider marrying me off to that lecherous old man…!”
“Silence! After making such a mess of things, you dare to speak to me like that?” The Duke’s mustache bristled as he roared.
“If you want to see just how serious I am, go on—keep testing me. I’ll march you to the Marquis’s house myself and leave you there.”
“…”
“Tsk, I can’t stand the sight of you. Get out.”
Hera clenched her fist and bowed her head.
“…Yes.” She gave a nod to the Duke and left the office.
Click. As the door shut behind her, Hera clenched her teeth, grinding them in a furious symphony of enamel.
How dare they put her through this kind of humiliation?
Neither that fool Louis nor her father would ever be forgiven.
“…Right. It’s not as if I was ever going to inherit the family anyway, is it?”
With eyes glinting with something sharp and dangerous, Hera rummaged through the inner pocket of her dress.
With a rustle, she retrieved the Badge of the Red Star. This so-called Token of Death Veil gleamed in Hera’s grasp.
“…I just need to kill them all. Isn’t that right?” Hera muttered under her breath.
After all, she was bound to become a member of the Draganov family—the richest House on the continent. So if her father died, it wouldn’t have anything to do with her.
Her eyes flashed, brimming with murderous intent and malice.
* * *
Meanwhile, a week had trickled by since the engagement ceremony.
Looks like today’s the day I set out.
With that thought, I headed for the training grounds.
Honestly, I’d wanted to dash off in search of Mithril the moment the engagement ended, but that was wishful thinking.
The reason was simple: my troops needed rest.
Me? Thanks to my previous life’s experience and a clear goal of revenge, I didn’t know the meaning of exhaustion. But the others weren’t so lucky.
They needed a break.
Of course, it wasn’t as if we’d spent the whole time lazing about.
Roxen was learning the basics of Aura from me while steadily picking up Roxha’s sword techniques.
Lancelot, meanwhile, was busy concocting his own brand of spear techniques, with Berg Spear Arts as the main ingredient.
Kai, well… that boy was getting along just fine on his own.
Anyway. We’d all leveled up over the course of the week, so now it was time to put our progress to the test.
“Not that we’re quite there yet…” I muttered to myself as I walked on.
Just then, I saw Kai crouched on the training grounds, waiting.
I was about to shout, “Have you been waiting long?” when a group of knights sidled up to Kai, wearing smirks.
* * *
“Hey, kid, you looking for your mommy?”
“Looks like you came for some milk. Head over there, maybe you’ll find your mama waiting.”
The knights snickered, their voices dripping with mockery.
“…”
Kai stared straight ahead, saying nothing.
He was used to this sort of thing. After all, humans have a peculiar fondness for tormenting those weaker than themselves.
Certainly, if it came down to raw strength, he was probably stronger than any of them. Maybe even all of them at once, if he caught them off guard. He could probably kill the lot of them, if he really put his mind to it.
But that didn’t change the fact that he was the underdog here. An orphan from the slums. A boy dropped among their ranks by the young master who had married into the House.
That was who he was.
“Hey, shouldn’t you give a proper answer? Or is that how your mother raised you?”
“…”
The knights, sensing weakness, only ramped up their jeers. They probably wanted to see him react.
But he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. If he did, it would only make things harder for his young master.
…I’ve gotta endure.
Whenever things got tough, Kai thought of Young Master Louis. The one who sent his siblings to school, who gave them a real home instead of a hovel in the slums.
For him, Kai could endure anything.
“Ha! Look at this, he’s just ignoring us. Let’s see how long that lasts.”
Smack!
A knight slapped Kai across the face.
“Still not going to answer?”
Smack! Smack!
“How about now?”
The knight kept slapping Kai’s cheeks, but Kai didn’t react. He simply pressed his lips together and endured in silence.
He was quietly enduring it… when a familiar voice rang out from somewhere.
“How about y’all let me in on the fun?”
Kai turned his head to see Lancelot standing there, spear in hand, wearing an expression that was nothing like his usual playful self.
“Hah. Covering for your squadmate just because you’re in the same unit?”
“Put a cock in it, eh? I said, play with me.” Lancelot’s lips twisted into a crooked smile. It wasn’t his usual mischievous smirk, but something far more unsettling.
“Well? Does picking on someone younger than you get your blood pumping?”
Whump!
Lancelot’s foot landed squarely in the knight’s gut.
The knight doubled over, clutching his stomach as he toppled to the ground.
That was all the invitation his friends needed to start hurling abuse.
“You son of a bitch!”
“Oh, you want to try me?” Lancelot bared his teeth in a grin.
In a flash, he stepped in, grabbed a knight by the throat, and slammed him to the ground.
Crash!
“Urgh!”
With two of their own sprawled on the ground, the rest of the knights hesitated, then hurriedly gathered up their fallen comrades and beat a retreat.
It was the sort of exit you’d expect from villains in a fairy tale.
Lancelot watched them go and clicked his tongue, muttering, “Honestly, what a bunch of nobodies.”
“…You said it.”
“But why did you just stand there and take it?”
“I didn’t want to cause trouble for Young Master.”
“Well aren’t you a loyal retainer.” Lancelot shook his head at the sight of Kai’s reddened cheeks.
And then…
“That’s not loyalty. It’s just foolishness.” Louis Berg’s voice rang out from nearby.
Kai and Lancelot turned.
There was Louis Berg, striding toward them, his face a thundercloud of irritation.
* * *
I scowled at the sight of Kai’s reddened cheek.
Those scum had dared to lay hands on one of my soldiers. Even if our bond had been forged solely for revenge, he was still one of my own. One who had pledged his loyalty to me.
If someone like him was treated with such disdain, who else would stand with me in battle?
I ran a hand through my hair and began, “Kai.”
“…Yes, sir.”
“You, and everyone else here, are people I brought in myself. So when someone insults you, it’s the same as insulting me.”
Kai listened, head bowed. He probably thought he was being scolded.
Well, he was, technically, but there was no need for him to look quite so deflated.
It wasn’t like I was about to say, ‘You’ve let me down, so I’m sending your siblings out.’
I sighed at Kai, who was watching me with the wary eyes of someone expecting bad news, and continued. “So don’t just stand there and let yourself get hit. If it comes to it, it’s better to be the one doing the hitting. I can’t stand to see my men getting beaten up.”
“…Really?”
“Yes. Unlike Sir Lancelot, I appreciate that you think about what happens next, but you don’t need to worry about that.”
“Oh, and why am I being dragged into this?”
…Because, unlike Kai, I wish you'd think ahead for once.
The words nearly escaped my mouth, but I swallowed them and pressed on.
“Do you really think the Grand Duke would throw me out just because you lot cause a little trouble? Worst case, I just hand him some other advantage and it all blows over.”
“…”
“And this time, the benefit I brought to the House is enormous. Big enough that I could get away with killing a few knights, if I felt like it.”
I gave Kai’s shoulder a pat and flashed a chilly smile, finishing, “So, let me ask… what are the names of those bastards?”