Chapter 11 - A Meeting Six Hours in the Making
“Kuhng…. Hnngh…!”
His head, which had slammed onto the table as he dozed off, was lifted.
The eyes that blinked open were dark with shadows underneath.
Sitting for six hours in this place with only hard chairs was akin to torture in itself.
A young talent from the Fourth Son’s faction and a scion of a noble house.
Half a day was enough for the dignity of his noble birth to vanish.
Regardless of his own state, his awakened eyes reflexively turned to the window.
“The, the sunset…!”
The sky outside the window was being dyed red.
The sky, wearing a skirt of crimson clouds, awaited the moon, and the messenger, hastily brushing back his hair, awaited the master of the house.
Along with the empty liquor bottles rolling on the table.
The harmony of a body that had not been able to properly lie down or rest while rushing for several days had steadily accumulated fatigue.
But regardless of his exhaustion, the sun set without stopping.
Soon, complete night fell.
As the stars opened their eyes in the dark sky, the noble of blood, who had also opened his eyes, descended to the reception room.
“The Youngest Son is entering.”
Kuuuung─
Beyond the door opened by the Head Maid, the Youngest Son revealed himself.
Having slept well, eaten well, and washed well, not a trace of fatigue could be found on his body.
In contrast, Kerard, looking as if he had barely wiped the sleep from his eyes, scrunched up his face.
“Look here, Youngest Son. Do you not know that your current childish behavior will only make your future darker?”
The Youngest Son, who had not even sat down yet, gestured to the Head Maid without a word.
She approached with her hands politely gathered and opened her mouth in his stead.
“The Young Son is the rightful master of this mansion and a direct blood relative of Millesdusk. Please show some courtesy.”
“Ha! Courtesy?”
Kerard scoffed, his face showing he had heard something utterly absurd.
“Before we discuss something like courtesy, why don’t you tell me how the Youngest Son himself treated a guest? Leaving my older brother’s messenger, who rushed here for days, stuck in a reception room for half a day?”
The anger boiling inside him was expressed in a low, heated tone.
It was not because his temper was calm, but simply because he lacked the strength to shout.
Once again, the Head Maid answered in his place.
“That is due to the Young Son’s unavoidable innate characteristics. Please understand with a generous heart, and now, please follow the family law. If you do not.”
“If I do not, then what. What can you do in the Youngest Son’s faction, no, in this dilapidated mansion that can’t even be called a faction.”
The Head Maid smiled faintly.
It was an arc that could captivate any man, but it was clearly a sneer.
Just as a vein bulged on his forehead, her mouth opened first.
“The family law applies equally even within a dilapidated mansion, even within a rat’s hole. Especially if it is the request of a direct blood relative.”
“…….”
“A member of the family who does not show courtesy to a direct blood relative. The punishment for that, as the messenger well knows, is a matter worthy of an Executioner Knight drawing his Cursed Sword.”
Kerard’s hand trembled violently.
The Executioner Knight’s Cursed Sword.
As it was a sword made to stab Millesdusk itself, there was absolutely no mercy.
The family law was an iron rule, and the Executioner Knight’s ears did not hear arguments, only delivered verdicts.
“Your current childish behavior could cause an Executioner Knight to visit the Fourth Son’s Black Citadel.”
“That’s…!”
He wanted to say it was a stretch, but it wasn't.
No matter how much of a discarded blood relative he was within the family, as long as he passed the Trial of Achievement, he was one of the legitimate direct line members who could inherit the succession.
…I took him too lightly.
The Youngest Son. Is this the Youngest Son I know?
That timid and weak blood clot, what in the world had gotten into him?
‘…No. This strategy of using the family law to seize the psychological initiative. There’s no way this is the Youngest Son’s idea.’
Kerard’s narrowed eyes shifted to the side.
‘That foxy bitch…. She’s the one putting the Youngest Son in front and looking down on me.’
The Youngest Son’s aura had changed slightly, but he had not said a single word so far.
It must be because the moment he opened his mouth and engaged in conversation, his shallow thoughts would be quickly exposed.
‘First, I need to get that damn woman out of here.’
To do that, he had to play along appropriately.
Dddeudeuk─
He rose from his chair, his lips trembling.
With his clenched right hand on his heart and the other behind his back at the waist.
He bowed politely.
“…I greet you formally. I am Kerard Balum, the messenger who has come to deliver the Fourth Son’s words.”
The greeting floated in the air like a monologue, and no answer returned.
The Youngest Son stared at Kerard’s bowed head for a moment before taking a seat.
The messenger, having finished his greeting, was also about to sit in the opposite chair.
“Who said you could sit.”
A boyish yet low, pale and cold tone like his own skin descended upon the reception room.
The messenger, who had only expected a frightened and nervous voice, froze stiff.
At this, the Youngest Son let out a smirk.
“The atmosphere was too stiff, so I played a little joke. You must still be weary from your journey, so please sit comfortably.”
“…Thank you.”
His body automatically maintained a formal posture as it attached to the chair.
The reason was hard to explain, and he couldn’t.
From the moment he heard the Youngest Son’s voice, his body, which had instinctively flinched, remained frozen and couldn’t think of straightening up.
In that state, the questioning with the blood relative continued.
“Kerard Balum. What is the message my little older brother told you to deliver.”
His mind snapped awake.
That’s right. I came here on the order of the Fourth Son, who is said to be a prodigy even in the history of Millesdusk.
I lost the initial bout for dominance.
But from now on, I could overwhelm him in every aspect.
Because behind me was not some trivial person, but a true successor.
He answered with a look of regained confidence.
“The Fourth Son wishes to form an alliance with the Youngest Son.”
A strong blow from the start.
It was bait to regain the initiative, bait that he had no choice but to take─
“Hmm. Is that so.”
There was no follow-up.
It was an extremely lukewarm reaction.
His eyes were flat without a stir, and he seemed to have not a shred of interest.
…This is different from what I expected.
The Youngest Son’s next words were also different from what he expected.
“Then my little older brother should have come himself.”
“Yo, Youngest Son…!”
“Is that all you have to say.”
“…For now, I have come alone to gauge the Youngest Son’s mind. There is no falsehood in this statement.”
“Falsehood. Falsehood, you say.”
I listened closely.
His heart had been beating erratically for a while now.
As befitting someone who survived within the survival-of-the-fittest Black Citadel, his gaze was clear without a hint of wavering, but.
Thump. Thump.
His heart was not so.
“Head Maid. Go out and bring some tea.”
“Yes.”
The Head Maid exited the reception room.
Kerard inwardly rejoiced.
‘Yes! The nuisance is gone!’
Kerard, naturally licking his lips, poured out his words as soon as the door closed.
“The Youngest Son is still young and has been unintentionally dragged into the succession competition. Of the three elements of wealth, power, and martial strength, you do not have enough of any, do you.”
“Hmm. Continue.”
Kerard read possibility in the Youngest Son’s eyes.
Without the Head Maid to interject at every turn, things were proceeding smoothly.
“Therefore, the Fourth Son, pitying his one and only younger brother, and thinking highly of the Youngest Son’s potential, intends to bring you into the Black Citadel.”
The Youngest Son, as if understanding his meaning, nodded knowingly.
“Is it because inside the Black Citadel, my older brother and sisters will not be able to do anything to me.”
“Precisely. As expected of the Fourth Son’s younger brother, you are exceedingly wise.”
Kerard, who had passed the gatekeeper and entered this mansion, smiled for the first time.
Things were progressing smoothly.
“I fully understand that you cannot trust the Fourth Son’s alliance proposal right away. You must have been plagued by numerous threats until now.”
Empathy and understanding.
There was nothing better than this to comfort a sprout who, though his body was large, was only ten years old inside.
Kerard, with a gentle smile, placed a hand on his chest.
“It may not be my place to say this, but the Fourth Son, despite his young age, is not at all pushed back by his siblings. If the Youngest Son, who holds potential, joins the current power structure.”
“My little older brother and I can break the balance and pull far ahead. Is that what you mean.”
Kerard clapped his hands.
“I tell you one thing and you know ten. You are truly a genius. Hahahat.”
“I like it. Then after we break the structure.”
The Youngest Son’s next words made his laughter cease.
“I will become the Family Head.”
Kuuuung─
The reception room door broke the silence that was short but felt like an eternity.
The Head Maid, who had brought the tea, entered once more.
“I have prepared the tea you requested.”
“Good work.”
Jjoreureu.
Two teacups were filled.
Kerard, his expression not just devoid of laughter but cold to the point of being frigid, spoke.
“…Youngest Son. Please open your gift.”
“A good idea. Head Maid.”
“I have it waiting at the door.”
The Head Maid brought in a wooden box large enough to fit a person on a food cart.
Simultaneously, the scent of blood wafted to the blood relative’s nose.
‘This is….’
The answer came immediately.
Jjeojeok─
The box door was opened by Kerard.
The gazes of the three in the room were drawn to the inside of the box.
“This is a griffin that the Fourth Son hunted alone when he was the Young Son’s age. The body was severely mangled and could not be preserved, but the heart remained.”
“…….”
Inside the box was a heart larger than an ogre’s.
Considering the Fourth Son’s age at the time, it must have been five years ago, but it seemed to have been preserved with sorcery, looking as if it would still beat vigorously.
‘Heehee. How about it. Do you see the difference in our levels now?’
Kerard wore a victor’s smile.
Of course, on the outside, he wore a worried expression.
“Since you are still young, it must be difficult to know the weight of the Family Head. However, the position of Millesdusk’s master is not something one can attain just by inheriting the blood.”
His hand pointed to the griffin’s heart.
“The new Family Head is born after training that feels like the sapling of a giant tree being whittled down by harsh winds and storms. The griffin could not overcome that sapling and had its heart taken.”
It was a statement with a double meaning.
A griffin that lost its heart because it could not defeat the Fourth Son.
The hearts that could go into this box here would not stop at the griffin’s.
“By the time this box is filled with hearts, the Fourth Son will ascend to the position of Family Head. I do hope that the Youngest Son will not be in here.”
“…….”
The Youngest Son reached his hand into the box.
His arm was thin compared to the heart, but he lifted it without difficulty.
Once taken out, its size was even more magnificent.
It was no exaggeration to say that the single heart was larger than a person’s bust.
Kerard smiled and encouraged the silent Youngest Son.
“You don’t have to be too disheartened. Though not as much as the Fourth Son, the Youngest Son also seems to hold great potential. It is merely a difference in talent.”
The messenger’s tongue loosened along with his confidence.
“I will ask.”
The mouth of the blood relative holding the heart opened.
“You said my little older brother hunted a griffin around my age.”
“That is correct.”
Yes. The messenger’s words were true.
Then how about this.
“In that case, my little older brother must have gathered the griffin’s remaining corpse and immediately made it into an undead private soldier.”
“That… is not so.”
“Why. To kill my enemy and make them my subordinate. Isn’t this the basic concept of black magic and sorcery.”
“…A griffin is a monster that flies faster than an eagle and runs faster than a horse. Turning a flying monster into an undead is something even the First Son only recently succeeded in─”
“Because it was difficult.”
The messenger’s words were cut short.
“Because he didn't have that much skill. Because his talent was lacking. He couldn’t make the griffin into a private soldier. You could just say it like that, couldn't you. You’ve had too many useless additions from the start.”
As the idol he identified with was insulted within him, Kerard shot up in a fit of anger.
“Youngest Son! Your words are excessive! Turning a flying monster into an undead is something no one! I say no one can do at the age of ten!”
“Foolish man.”
“Wha, what?”
“Know what is outside the well.”
Kuwaaaaaaaaaaah─
Sorcery unfolded over the hand holding the heart, and a pile of bones surged up.
It was a red skeleton.