A dream.

She saw a dream.

――A distant day that played out a long, long time ago.

In front of her was a small, yet stylish house.

She went past the door and entered the corridor. She opened the door.

There was a woman doing needlework by the fireplace.

“……Mama!”

“Oh-ho, what is it? What a waste of your cute face, no?”

The young and beautiful woman stopped her work and greeted her crying child warmly.

To avoid injuring her daughter, she placed her sewing tools by the side and embraced
her gently into her chest.

Her emerald eyes reflected the emotions and anxieties of an affectionate mother.

The child sobbed and whined.

“Um… Ev-everybody was mean. T-They said they didn’t want to play.”

“Oh dear… did you have an argument with your friends?”

The child swung her head side to side in response to her mother.

After a short pause, she painfully told her mother.

“……They didn’t want to be friends with me.”

There was no way she could have had an argument with non-existent people.

This child had not a single friend.

The mother gloomily lowered her brows.

Surely, she had a clue about what was happening to her daughter.

The child continued complaining while being unable to empathise with her mother’s
distress.

“Your mother cheated!”

“Making friends with nobles is unfair!”

“That’s what all the other adults say!”

Commoners hate stories of upstarts too.

Especially so if it was about getting closer to nobles, who were a pain in their butts.

Particularly, in the case of this mother and daughter:

“Playing with the ‘kept woman’ is going to infect us with disease!”

“You get infected with an embarrassing prostitute disease!”

Thus, they hated the noble’s kept woman and her child.

They were half baked existences that could neither be considered a commoner nor a
noble. Since she was a woman who stood together with their oppressors and her
daughter, the child of such parents, the masses who lacked authority and wealth
probably to be a target to beat up and release their pent-up anger. Instead, they would
likely only show their disdain and talk behind their backs so frequently that even their
children would remember what they have said.

“Sob…”
The mother found it hard to control herself and embraced her daughter.

“M-Mama?”

The child looked at her mother strangely.

“Sorry… sorry…! Because of me…!”

Drops of warm tears trickled down to her cheeks.

“Mama, are you crying? Are you hurting somewhere!?”

“No, I am fine. I am fine… but I am sad that you had to suffer――”

The mother shivered while choking on her words. She was definitely blaming herself
for everything. If she had been born to a proper noble, she would not have to be ill-
treated by the children of commoners. If she had been born to a wealthy commoner,
she would have been able to make new friends.

“――Because I am a no-good parent, I have caused difficulties for my daughter…”

“No… even Mama is crying…”

The daughter who was in her arms twisted and turned at the unease she felt.

“Mama isn’t no-good! Among the adults I know, Mama is the kindest!”

“Sniff… thank you for saying that.”

The mother bravely returned a smile to her daughter’s childish consolation. Then she
caressed her head gently. The child smiled at her mother’s warm sensation.

“I love Mama! That’s why I want to grow up to become like Mama!”

The young mother could not help but strain her smile slightly. Her way of smiling
appeared to be hiding some kind of pain.

“That is no good. Not good.”

She tried her best to correct her in a joking manner. The child blinked her eyes in
surprise.

“Eh! Why?”

“I am sure that you will become an adult more upright than me.”

She looked as though she was praying or dreaming.

“Compared to me, who is a commoner, you have the noble blood of your father. I am
sure you will become a wonderful lady.”

“Papa?”

“Yes. The papa that you love dearly too.”

She spoke with a slight tinge of red in her face.

“He is a splendid and kind person. He has been saying that her wife will not be able to
calm down now, but one day, he will welcome you into their household.”

“Papa will bring me in? Not come here?”

“Their house is far grander than this. And then, he can spend more time with you too.”

“Really!? Papa will play with me more often!?”

The child shouted in exhilaration. She must love her father. Just hearing about her
father makes her so happy.

Towards her innocent smile, her mother forced a smile.

“For that day to come, you have to study hard!”

“……I am not allowed to just play?”

“Right, you aren’t allowed to. You have to listen to your papa.”

The child moaned in protest, but soon, she seemed to have noticed something and
looked up.
“……What about Mama?”

“Eh?”

“If I follow father, what will Mama do?”

The child seemed to have realised that her mother avoided talking about herself. She
sounded unsure again. Her mother’s expression became clouded.

“……I will not be able to go.”

“Why…?”

“The wife will be enraged at me.”

She squeezed slightly harder at her child’s hand.

“It hurts…”

“Ah!? Sorry… I suddenly…”

The mother quickly tried to soothe her child who started crying again.

Once her daughter became calm again, she continued.

“……Mama cannot go. Because Mama isn’t the legitimate wife of papa.”

“Mama isn’t a wife? Even though Mama is so loving with papa? Is it different from the
storybooks?”

Man and woman meet, fall in love, marry each other and build a happy family. A
plausible story from a fairytale for children. The mother gloomily nodded.

“Yes… Because Mama isn’t a wife, you have had to suffer――”

She said and hugged her daughter closely again.

“You shouldn’t become a woman like me. Please do not become a mother who makes
her own child cry. Do as your father says and become an upright lady. Please… become
a beautiful bride one day.”
“Will Mama be happy if I become a bride?”

“Of course, Mama will be very happy.”

With her hand, she gently combed her child’s hair.

“Make a promise with Mama. If you ever find somebody you like as much as Papa,
make sure to become his bride.”

Make sure to never become like her, and end up being looked down upon as a mistress.
She was probably trying to convey this implicitly.

“Bride of somebody I like…”

The child clumsily repeated what her mother said. She was still a small child. Definitely,
she did not understand the meaning and the weight of love. Nevertheless, she seemed
to have perceived her mother’s fervour and soaked up her wish.

“……Mm! I promise! I will definitely become a bride!”

She declared aloud. She was undoubtedly smiling from ear to ear as she declared.

“Good. Do not forget it. Okay? Anrietta…”

The mother was smiling like a budding lily.

…And so, the mother’s wish was carved into her child’s heart.

Become an upright lady.

Find a wonderful romance.

Become a beautiful bride.

Surely such a pure and innocent wish would――

“――That must be a glitch.”

The girl who awoke from her dream shivered as she said.

He wasn’t one to fantasise about the wedding night, but it wasn’t like he had been
hoping for this either. Linus Strein Oubeniel could feel a sense of depression welling
inside him.

“My humble apologies for the disturbance.”

Marquis Lavallee made a smile as he made himself comfortable. He leisurely sipped

his tea while sitting cozily on the sofa. He made sure to not dirty the formal clothes he
wore during the banquet.

On the other hand, Linus was wearing a pair of casual pants and a gown on his upper
body. It was not a fitting appearance when in the presence of guests, not to mention
towards a Marquis, but it could not be helped since it was this hour of the night. Also,
he had just finished making love, took a bath and rushed here for this meeting.

“If you are apologising, you could have at least waited until morning.”

Linus did not hide the stiffness on his face.

“Unfortunately, something happened at the banquet. Anyways, what do you plan to do

if the other guests noticed the groom escaping from his bedroom so early into the
night?”

Everything had ended and he was just about to sleep when he was called here. It was
good that he was called afterwards. If he had been in the middle of it, he would feel
very uneasy about it.

“And I was already chided by Simone.”

“As one would expect. That’s why I called for you at 1 am.”

The Marquis shamelessly declared.

Linus could feel an impulse to smash up his wrinkled ailing face.

“Don’t make that face, Count. It is a waste of your handsome face.”

“……It is late. Make it quick.”

He urged him to continue while enduring his irritation.

He had been joking around but for him to so suddenly call for him would mean that it
was likely something that required an immediate discussion.

“It is none other than your younger brother.”

As expected.

Linus was both in name and in reality a member of the centralist faction. There were
many things he could be discussing with the Marquis on such matters, but for him to
call him up this late, it had to be about none other than Tullius.

“What has happened to him? Did you not witness the complete success of our plan?”

At the very least, that was what Linus was thinking.

He had no choice but to let his first slave ― a being equivalent to his arms and legs ―
be taken away. And he had to personally sign off her as the illegitimate child of a Count.
For somebody who lacked political power in the capital and was as hated as he is, he
would never be able to find a way to break free from this conspiracy.

The plan had gone exactly according to how the Marquis imagined it to be. Still, the
Marquis was currently fretting over something.

“He did not resist as much as I had expected him to.”

That was all? Linus sighed.

“That’s just by appearances. He is not one to show his emotions easily. In fact, the more
his heart is in turmoil, the more he likes to stick on his friendly grin. I’m sure that is
what happened.”

As far as Linus can see, Tullius had taken a rather huge blow. He managed to keep up
with his fake smile even after the ceremony. However, there was not one thing that
went smoothly for him. In short, his smile was nothing but a bluff.
Or simply put, if he had not showing his frustration or anxiety, he must have his
emotions behind a mask.

“Hoh! Well observed. As expected of brothers.”

“……Please stop with the jokes. Besides, surely your Excellency has already foreseen
such a possible development?”

Lavallee was a person who had spent more than twice the age of Tullius at scheming.
There was no doubt he could comprehend the bluff of a greenhorn who had only spent
a year in politics.

“Hmm… about that.”

The Marquis rarely mumbles.

More often than not, he would speak with great confidence or try to amuse himself by
controlling the flow of the conversation.

“What has happened?”

“……That brat. I could tell that he was trying to hide his anger, indignation and
anxieties. I could see his hostility in his eyes and mannerisms. However―”

Lavallee stroked his beard as he said.

“He was steadfast.”

“Was steadfast?”

The Marquis momentarily made eye contact when Linus parroted back.

“Exactly. Your little brother has tripped on our plan and lost his most treasured asset.
Then, shouldn’t he be thinking of countermeasures?”

Now that he said it, that was certain.

He reflected back on his countless of experience with himself and this old man. He
would normally think of a counter as soon as he understood the possible ways the trap
could play out. And while thinking, signs of hesitations should surface. Observing the
level of hesitation in somebody else was usual fare for Lavallee.

Tullius understood his defeat and started flattering Lavallee with his mask without a
trace of hesitation. In fact, before the Count made any requests, he took an extreme
measure of removing the collar of a slave.

That was simply too quick. He should not have had enough time to come up with a
countermeasure. Indeed, it was abnormal.

“So is this what you are trying to say? Tullius might take action even after being caught
in our plan?”

Perhaps a way to reverse the situation?

Which means that was what he was thinking of when he realised his defeat.

“That would be the best interpretation of the situation.”

The Marquis nodded.

“Also, your younger brother had freed his slave ― Lady Anrietta ― by his own hands.
Which means the possibility of him aiming to recover her is low. Therefore, the other
possibility is… you understand now?”

“……In order to escape from the next phase of our scheme, he will try to escape from
the capital.”

Linus made a small moan.

It was no joke. There was no other better opportunity than now to murder Tullius. He
had few people with him and was far from his stronghold. If they let him escape now,
he could run back to his base and play hide-and-seek from there. If he managed to get
away, he would restart his progress on forming his own faction. It would become
exponentially more difficult to target him.

This was not expected. That he ― a demon who massacred all his slaves, except for her
being the exception ― would abandon her and run away.

…Seems like he would run away. After all, it was about protecting his life as a noble. It
seemed that he could not be concerned with a single slave nor his honour. If he chose
to take her back, that would mean pitting against Count Cartan. Not only was it a losing
fight, but it would also cost him time too. If he prioritises his own life, he would not do
something as meaningless as that.

He would not do anything meaningless. Right, that was a principle of his.

“So, I believe there is a chance that the brat ― your brother, would attempt to flee
tomorrow.”

Oh, so that was what the Marquis was concerned with.

If that was the case, then it makes sense that it was an urgent business. It was certainly
important enough for him to call him out even though it was in the middle of the night,
not to mention his wedding night. Still, it was a separate matter altogether on whether
he can pleasantly receive the Marquis.

“I shall instruct my men to tighten surveillance on him. At the same time, as my right
of the head of the family, I shall inspect all forms of letters in advance.”

He could easily make an excuse that he has to make contact with his fief. In fact, the
wheat harvest was nearing. He could say he has gotten wind of the population rioting
and escape from the capital. Even if he tried to investigate the matter later, he could
report that it was resolved with a discussion.

In order to safeguard against that, it was essential that he use his authority to keep his
letters and ensure he is never able to read them.

If worst comes to worst, he could fabricate a letter, but that would not work if he keeps
up surveillance on him and prepares for it. In this circumstance, he could also question
the origins of the letter.

Lavallee seemed to have the same opinion.

“That should be fine. I shall also send people who are good at acting stealthily.”

“……I am greatly in your debt.”

Linus lowered his head while hiding his annoyance. He wasn’t about to welcome the
Marquis’ spies in his own mansion. However, if this was the price to pay for cornering
Tullius, there was no reason for him to decline.
“Well, let’s go as planned.”

“Yes. Let us prolong his stay until we are ready to strike again.”

The plan was to trap Tullius until the faction he was making at Marlan loses contact
with him and are alienated, while further plotting against him directly in the capital.

The doll-like maid not being able to act as shackles were beyond their forecast, but the
conspiracy will proceed nonetheless.

Anrietta Pola Carta. No, the Silver Wolf.

He had sent an adventurer group called “Band of Green” to investigate and they
reported that she wasn’t a threat but there was no way he would believe that. After all,
she was a monster that had lived on for 11 years as a slave of the Slave Murderer. She
probably knew how to conceal her abilities. The dimwits he sent must have been
deceived by her acting.

Linus was fully aware that many of the things that Tullius did in the shadows were
likely 80 or 90 percent carried out by her and that she was extraordinary as can be
inferred from her nickname.

It was sufficient to have removed her from Tullius. All he has to do now is to make a
fine meal of him, who was isolated in his territory.

The sense of victory drawing near was intoxicating enough to make up for Linus’
ruined wedding night.

Nevertheless, Lavallee had to be a wet blanket and gave him some final words,

“……Do not let your guard down.”

Moving back in time by a little.

It was around when the banquet ended and most of the guests were leaving, when
those who were staying over went to their respective rooms.

Tullius retreated back to his room the moment the celebrations ended.
He then fished out something among his luggage and immersed himself in some kind
of work. Due and Laubert remained silent while watching his chilling tenacity.

“……Alright.”

What Tullius had nimbly put together was a pedestal with a crystal. It appeared to be
a mini-altar that had been luxuriously decorated with gold and silver ー one that a
pagan would have to secretly worship their gods.

Its true identity was a long distance communication magical equipment.

The original equipment was much bulkier, but he had spared no concern for the cost
of the materials and went all out to create a smaller model which could perform better.
Moreover, he disassembled it and placed it inside his travelling bag so that it could be
used portably. It was the same thing they used when they were hunting monsters as
well as what was given to Drei before she attacked the elf village.

The last time they tried, it was able to allow communication between the outside the
country and the underground lab in Marlan. Since they were within the country, surely
there would be no issues with using it.

“Hello Command, this is Master. I repeat. Hello Command, this is Master.”

“……This is Opus-3, Command. Reading you loud and clear. Your instructions, master.”

The magic-infused crystal vibrated rapidly, transmitting Drei's reply. Of course, a

barrier has already been erected to ensure the conversation does not leak outside the
room.

Without a change in expression, Tullius gave his instructions to Drei, on the other side
of the communications.

“An emergency situation has occurred, we will stick to plan D. Mobilise all of the Opus
Series. Over.”

“Plan D…”

Drei gasped. What he was referring to was a battle plan that they decided beforehand
for the most extreme circumstances. It was a plan that even Drei, who had single-
handedly crushed the elf village, would shudder faintly at the thought of it.
Something had happened such that Tullius would activate all of his masterpieces.

“Do you copy? 03”

“Y-Yes! My apologies! Due to the emergency, we will activate plan D. Mobilise all the
members of the Opus Series. Over.”

“Positive. Do you have any other questions?”

Tullius dispassionately gave out his orders, with a composure akin to Uni’s coldness.
At any rate, things progressed efficiently. Nothing else mattered.

Such was the way of speaking of an inhumane machine.

“I believe that member 04 is dangerous.”

“Tell him that no tactless ‘dining out’ is allowed. When the need arises, give him the
command ‘Take a good look at my face’.”

“Roger. Also, won’t 05 be too conspicuous?”

“With some ‘dressing up’, it will be alright. With some ‘accessories’ and it should work
out.”

He gave out his instructions with some secret lingo just in case somebody could listen
into the conversation. From Due’s perspective, Tullius had lost his cool. Yet, he was
calmly angry. This was because Tullius Shernan Oubeniel was not somebody who
would suggest bringing out the entirety of the Opus Series. Not to mention that Linus
could interfere with Marlan if the remaining of the Opus Series, who were supposed
to safeguard Marlan, were mobilised here.

Even if the mass-produced products like Victor were enough to deal with the
interference, a normal Tullius would never choose this option.

“Any other questions?”

“……Lastly, what about the ‘travelling expenses’ for us?”

“None. That’s why I said it was an emergency from the beginning. Go through all the
‘travel plans’ by yourselves.”
“What…!? Ah, forgive me… Wilco. Opus-03 will definitely execute master’s orders. Over.”

“I will be waiting. Over.”

Drei who was clearly shaken did not hesitate in her choice of words and Tullius cut off
the signals. Without a doubt, he was irritated. Usually, Tullius would have added a joke
or two when conversing with his subordinates.

While Tullius was dissembling the equipment and keeping it back into the bag, Due
called out.

“Are we really doing it? Master.”

“Didn’t you hear what I said over the comms?”

Without a pause in his hand movements, Tullius replied. Just like as he was during the
comms, there was a cold slicing sensation in his voice.

“Is it alright to abandon the chief maid? Isn’t there a chance she could get involved?”

Laubert expressed his apprehensions.

Plan D ― the plan to use force to escape, might possibly implicate Uni. However, their
master replied curtly.

“……And so?”

He was trying to say, so what of it? Due felt a flash of fire rising to his head.

“You…!!”

He was about to step out but his foot stopped in mid-air unnaturally.

It was the order that was inserted during his brain surgery. No matter how much he
loathed or felt disgusted at his master, he could not raise even a finger against him. It
was clearly still in effect.

“Hasn’t Uni… that girl… showed you the greatest loyalty among everybody…!?”

He cried out. He did not have to say it.

Due did not hold any romantic feelings for Uni. Considering that she was almost
fanatical like their master, he would more likely classify her as disliked. Nevertheless,
he knew very well how loyal and how hard she works for her master. In fact, he felt
pity for her who had been released by her master’s own will.

And yet, the culprit who made her what she is could utter,

“Yes. What of it?”

He acted as though he had not given it one thought.

“In fact, she wouldn’t want to be a burden to me.”

“Stop acting like you’ve always had!"

However, she has now been abandoned by her master. She was a pitiable woman, who
cried and tried to cling on, but failed to achieve anything and was taken away.

Would such a woman die for her master’s sake now?

The operation on her brain was of the same generation as Due’s. Their emotions were
left intact, whereas their sense of betrayal was replaced with obedience to his orders.
Now that she was separated from Tullius, who knew what she was thinking.

“Are you worried about Uni? Knowing her, she would be able to do something.”

“Even after being that shaken?” Laubert said.

Due felt the same. It was harsh seeing Uni mentally breakdown. And she did not even
put up much of a fight when that old noble pulled her away. With her current state, it
was hard to say if she could even bring out half her usual capabilities. Would she be
able to single-handedly deal with the average ruffian like she always did? Would she
be able to adapt to the chaos that plan D would bring?

“Hmm, in the time before we execute our plan, there should be sufficient time for her
to calm down. I estimate with 80 percent likelihood that she would be fine.”

“80 percent… Well, I think the rate of survival is on the high side. Anyways, isn’t it
another issue of whether it is okay to leave her here?”
“You fear the leak of information? That would be a waste of your concern.”

Tullius promptly sat down on a chair after keeping the communication device.

“Even if she was tortured, there is no way she will disclose anything since I have
tinkered her brain to never do anything intentionally to disadvantage me. I expect
them to have no choice but to directly investigate what I have done to Uni by checking
her body. But what can the alchemists of this country achieve? Nothing happened too,
when I was at the Gallerien Magic Academy…”

The Gallerien Magic Academy was an institution based in St. Gallen, and they are at
the forefront of research in magic. If Academy failed to produce any meaningful
investigation, then the Arquell Kingdom which was behind them would surely be
unable to find anything.

“They would learn nothing even if they decided to dissect her. After all, I am not at a
level of surgical skill where I would leave behind any traces. The brain is a delicate
organ and if I left anything big enough to be considered a clue, it might have already
caused some impairment to brain function. In fact, rather than causing any damage,
what I did was to fix her brain and facial scars. Not even a full rundown investigation
can produce any clue.”

First of all, she was the beloved daughter of Count Cartan. There was no way he would
agree to torture or even dissect his own daughter.

The speculations he made were disgusting. How could he speak of the girl who had
supported him thus far like this? He made it sound like he would not have a problem
even if Uni would be cut open. He knew he had very little human compassion, but he
didn't know that he was so devoid of it.

Even the cold-blooded Laubert appeared to have a frown on his face.

“…Which means we won’t be attempting to rescue the Chief Maid from his Excellency?”

“Yes, we won’t make such a move. Escaping from the capital is our utmost priority.”

His conclusion was to not rescue her.

Tullius leaned back in his chair.

“Also, there is a chance that her body would be returned to us.”

“Body?”

Due instinctively blinked at what Tullius had just said.

What was he trying to say? Did they not already mention that Count Cartan had just
been reunited with her beloved daughter?

“Surely you understand, Laubert?”

“Well, I can guess to some extent.”

“Hey, fill me in. Explain it properly.”

The two of them stared at Due like he was failing student in school.

“Didn’t I say so before the banquet? A political marriage.”

Laubert mixed in a sigh as he said.

“The high nobles in the capital would have heard enough about his Excellency from
Marquis Lavallee to not carelessly approach his Excellency, and Uni who is at
marriageable age. Where do you think a suitable partner can be found?”

“I wouldn’t know of such a…”

He was unfamiliar with the ways of the nobles. Asking him was pointle― wait a second.

“D-Don’t tell me…!?”

He realised.

Tullius, with an amused expression, gave a round of applause to Due who was wide-
eyed in shock.

“Well done. That’s right… Count Cartan is that kind of person.”

Being a Count based in the capital, Cartan would have definitely heard rumours from
Lavallee. Since he would harbour animosity towards the person who made his
daughter a slave, it was unlikely that he would personally head down to Marlan even
if he sends an invitation to Marlan. More importantly, his daughter was Uni. If she were
to be able to return to Tullius, maybe she might happily accept the marriage.

The truth was likely that it was a strategy that would lead to Tullius’ death and that
her job would be to lengthen his stay in the capital for as long as possible. It would be
dangerous if marriages to other suitable ladies were arranged with Tullius too. It was
not a far-fetched idea that they would attempt to do so.

“Would the Count agree to it?”

That was the crux of it. Why would he hand over his most treasured and beloved
daughter back to Tullius, of all people? So long as Count Cartan’s claim that Uni is his
daughter was not a lie, it seemed like he would not agree to this.

“If that is the case, then―”

“Nope, the Count was probably telling the truth.”

The theory Due had at the back of his mind was shot down.

Tullius continued.

“When I bought her, I could tell that from her body that she led an aristocratic life and
most importantly, had an above average magic power. Considering that she is of
roughly the same age as Anrietta Pola Carta, it highly unlikely for there to be anybody
else other than her.”

“…Up until now, haven’t you been interested in Uni’s past?”

“Well, I’ve only been interested in her abilities. Additionally, at that point of time, Uni’s
memories were all in a blur because of the trauma she faced. So I did not have much
of an opportunity to ask about her true identity. Actually, Uni herself would probably
have greater difficulties remembering that she was once Anrietta.”

If that was the case, it was harder to imagine that Count Cartan would be on board
with this.

Still, Laubert shook his head.

“He would be on board, or at least be made to go with this plan. No doubts about it.”

“Heh, aren’t you showing way too much confidence? Where is your proof?”

“The Cartan family was built in a single generation by Count Pierre Simon Cartan. The
lands he had been given is considered small when compared to his title. Since he is a
new established aristocrat, he did not have any land given to him from the kingdom…
In other words, he would be in opposition to the land-owning nobles and would be
part of the centralist faction.”

In conclusion, the relationship between Cartan and Marquis Lavallee was not one built
on friendship but of political interests.

“To add on, since his family was recently established, not only does his family lack
history, but even now with this scandal, his position in the centralist faction would
surely be diminished. And what if the leader of the faction, Marquis Lavallee decides
to ask him to hand over his daughter for marriage?… He will not be able to disagree.
Isn’t that right?”

Tullius continued to assert his argument.

Certainly, if he values the family’s position, he cannot refuse. In the first place, he
sought after a mistress in order to preserve the bloodline of the family. He did not get
involved with Uni’s mother, Anna Marie, because he wanted to play with fire. He
merely wanted to achieve a certain result. He would definitely be pained to lose his
long lost daughter, but he would eventually make the heartrending decision to hand
her over.

If it was Lavallee at the heart of this plot, he would pick somebody whom he would
not feel bothered even if he had to sacrifice him. As deduced, Count Cartan was
unlikely to be influential within the faction and would be a prime choice for sacrifice.
The other members in the faction were mostly people of families with a big social
standing and rich history, so it might be difficult to persuade them to be the sacrifice
and even if they were forced to listen to the order, they might become another problem
later.

“He would lose his daughter by the very same authority that allowed him to gain his
long lost daughter… How ridiculous.”

Tullius commented.
It was truly ridiculous. Truly hopeless.

Lavallee probably would try to finish things up while he was still in the capital in order
to attach a collar onto Tullius. Tullius estimates that it would take less than a month
for him to be done.

The reunion between father and daughter was just a fleeting dream.

“While it might be bad news for Count Cartan, that doesn’t mean it is the same for the
rest of Cartan’s family. According to the Count himself, not long after Uni was born, the
rightful successor was born too.”

What Laubert was trying to say was that the shrew, Josephine, managed to give birth
to a son in that period. A child they had when they were both in their forties. He does
not know how he was raised, but in essence, that was what the Count mentioned in
his long story. If the son died prematurely because of birth defects, then he would have
been talking about making Uni the legitimate successor instead. Since nothing of the
sort was mentioned, it is safe to assume that that Cartan’s son grew up normally.

“Mm. If Uni returns to the family, it was also be a reason for a domestic squabble.
Hence, the people around the Count would try to get rid of her. If things go sideways,
men who might try to marry into family could appear.”

Not only would they secure themselves as a descendant of the Count’s family, they can
also be married to a peerless beauty in the process. For young nobles, such an
opportunity would surely be irresistible.

“To prevent infighting over the inheritance, he would look for somebody with lands
far away from the capital. For example, a certain somebody who works as a viscount
at the edge of the kingdom, a man with an unknown relationship with his daughter.”

This would be extremely pleasing to the legitimate wife, who once ousted Uni.

“…Certainly it seems that everybody apart from the Count will not be a good thing.
However, would Uni want to come back to your side now? Why would she go being a
treasure sword to becoming an old scabbard?”

Due was particularly doubtful about that. Wouldn’t Tullius simply be chased by
bothersome things and end up losing his asset?
Nevertheless, Tullius refuted him.

“If that is the case, Uni has truly become a treasured sword. She would not be easily
swung.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Do you not understand? The Uni from Marlan that went through all of this was both
Uni and not Uni. She is the Count’s daughter, Anrietta Pola Cartan. I would not try to
make such a highly esteemed person fight the way I have been making her do. If Count
Cartan got wind of it, he would angrily press for a divorce. But, even before that―”

Laubert took over Tullius’ explanation.

“―if his Excellency were to make the woman he should be protecting stand on the
frontlines, his Excellency’s social position would falter immediately. While there are
many nobles that became adventurers, it is entirely unprecedented for a married
woman to continue doing so. In fact, if she was ordered to do so by her husband, the
rumours would become even more intense than the human experimentations on
slaves. That would be more than enough reason for his Excellency’s brother to punish
his Excellency.”

Indeed, she had became a treasured sword. No matter how smoothly she can cut, she
was a sword that could never be swung. A person would only injure himself by
recklessly swinging this sword.

The joker that Tullius held on his hands became the old maid.

Ah, so the only use for Uni would be at most as an alchemy assistant.

“Furthermore, there is no need to patiently wait for me to use Uni. The public should
have sympathy for the Count who has to turn over his long lost daughter. If carefully
utilised, he can come up with false charges against me out of the blue. For example, he
could claim that I used the fact that she was a former slave to look down on her or to
force her to do disgusting acts in the bedroom. If such rumours last long enough, Count
Cartan could use it as a reason to intervene.”

Either way, Uni will be used as a tool to pressure Tullius. It was sickening.

Knowing that she was a crazy woman, or more like a woman crazy in her loyalty towards
her master, hearing about such a future was enough to make Due feel like running
away.

“……How cruel. If Uni catches wind of this, she might kill herself on the spot.”

“Not possible. If she killed herself, her reason for doing so will be speculated and be
used as an attack against me. After all, she went from being a slave to a noble in a single
night. Many would come to the conclusion that for such a lucky person to commit
suicide, her spirit must have been broken due to the mistreatment she faced during
her time as a slave. That would be the thoughts of any respectable noble. With her
intelligence, Uni should be able to guess this outcome no matter how weak she has
become.”

It was too cruel.

Even dying was not an option for her in this circumstance.

“Now that it has come to this, the greatest mercy we can offer to Uni is plan D.”

Laubert earnestly declared.

“It’s the Chief Maid we are talking about. Between her own existence and his
Excellency’s benefit, she would not hesitate to discard her life. Amidst the coming
calamity, nobody will suspect she took her own life if she was found dead.”

“Well…”

As he tried to make a reply, he noticed a slight moisture in his breath.

It basically meant that Tullius wasn’t thoughtless towards his longest serving and
most loyal subordinate.

The expression Tullius was holding now was no longer the anger and anxiety he
thought he saw earlier. It appeared to be anguish. Was this simply a trick of the mind?

Nevertheless, the verdict by Tullius was still as ominous as before. In order for him to
escape from the capital, he called for his subordinates to throw their lives away if they
become a hindrance during the turmoil.

(……Hey, wait a minute?)

All of a sudden, Due had a sudden realisation.

Wasn’t there something strange about what Tullius said?

If plan D was executed, Uni will die. Die by her own hands.

While he spoke of her death as though it was set in stone, what did this man say earlier?

‘―I estimate with 80 percent likelihood that she would be fine.’

80 percent.

He was referring to her chances of survival after executing plan D.

There was no coherence between her definitely dying and the fact that if she commited
suicide, it was a situation where one cannot suspect that she took her own life.

…Why? Why was there such a contradiction?

“…Hey, master.”

“Huh, have you finally understood?”

Tullius revealed a smile to Due.

It was his first smile ever since they returned to the room and he put on a solemn
expression.

At first look, it was tender loving smile, but in fact, it was an inauspicious smile that
possessed arrogance and insolence.
“My humble apologies… Are you awake, milady?”

She turned to face the person who called her in an unnatural way. The maid opened
the room’s door and was looking in nervously.

“……How may I help you?”

She responded in her normal flat tone. The maid was bewildered at Uni’s choice of
words.

“Sorry, milady? I am the servant, there is no need to be formal with me. Yes. Please be
relaxed in addressing me.”

“……”

Only now did she realise that the person before her was a maid like her; in fact, she
was a maid that was her junior. Therefore, there was no need for her to be overly
respectful with her.

However, she did not dare to put it into words. She had spent a full night before
understanding that doing so could possibly put her master in an unfavourable
position.

“……Then I shall take you up on that. What are you here for?”

“Yes. I am here to inform you that it is time to wake up, but milady is already awake. I
have come to help you change.”

“I can do it myself.”

“No, please let me…”

The maid had a troubled look on her. That was to be expected. It was most likely that
the butler or chief maid had been given detailed instructions from Cartan.

Thinking about how troublesome it might get, she decided to let the maid help her.

“What do you wish to put on?”

Frankly speaking, Uni wanted to have her maid uniform back. And if possible, her chief
maid armband too.

When she was brought in by Count Cartan, she had her uniform swapped with
sleepwear, so she was now wearing normal clothes. Her mind was completely in a daze
since then.

Her uniform was first-grade, personally handcrafted by her master. Even if her body
was autopsied, no clues would be found, but the same could not be said for her
equipment. Low grade materials were used to allow the uniform to appear
inconspicuous, but it should not deceive a trained eye. Uni feared that if it were to be
analysed, the enemy would be able to infer her master’s technological capabilities.

Also, the maid uniform was an important gift that her master bestowed on her. When
it was decided that she would start adventuring prematurely at the age of 10, she was
given protective armour by her master. She had requested it to be an apron dress. She
repeatedly insisted that it was so that she could be reminded that her entire existence
was to serve her master whenever she was on the battlefield. He had been rather
surprised at the request. Still, he quickly designed it and tailored a masterpiece. Since
then, whenever she grew taller, her apron dress was redesigned and she would be
given a new one.

It was one of the few precious possessions she got from her master. It was proof of her
memories with her master.

It carried a mountain of affection and attachment to her master, but unfortunately, she
would never be able to wear it again.

“Milady?”

“……It is nothing. I don’t really have any preference, so I shall leave it to you.”

Absorbed in the past, she accidentally said something unfitting her status. To
completely leave somebody in charge of her clothes would also mean to push the full
responsibility to that somebody.

She could recall how troubled she felt whenever her master did the same. She could
not defy him nor say she was unable to do it, so she devoted herself to studying male
fashion. Recently, she had been adding the latest trends by consulting Victor and the
rest whenever there was a chance to.

Taking a deep breath, she calmed down again.

She had gone off point again. She had yet to come to terms with reality. Even though
she was now neither maid, nor adventurer, nor even a slave, she still could not accept
it. On one hand, she was slightly satisfied at the fruits of her completed education, but
on the other hand, she believed that performing what she has learned would cause
trouble for her master.

If she could not behave in a way that would satisfy Count Cartan, he might use it as a
reason to blame her master, who had rescued and raised her.

“My apologies, that was thoughtless of me. I take back what I said.”

She bowed to the maid who was completely dumbfounded at her request. Because her
bow was way too deep, the maid panicked even more. Measuring the right amount of
seasoning was such a bother. Seriously, the weight of a noble’s head was too heavy.

“……Do you mind showing me what is there to wear?”

“If that is the case, then the clothes are kept in this closet.”

She became evidently relieved and guided her to the large closet inside the room.
Inside the closet were enough clothes for a lady around her age to wear for a full year.

She took a random set of clothes to test and it seemed to fit her.

“Didn’t I arrive here last night…?”

“Ah, the clothes here belonged to the madam, your mother.”

She promptly replied to her doubt.

Mother. These belonged to Anna Marie. The Count must have secretly kept them here.
The more she examined the clothes, the more the clothes did appear to be out of
fashion. They were clothes that appeared too plain for a noble lady. She could
understand, however, if Anna Marie wanted to avoid the attention of others.

Still, it was amazing how he managed to keep this from his legitimate wife, Josephine.
She was a deeply obsessed and jealous woman who had framed Anna Marie and hired
hooligans to assault her. She was a brutal and merciless woman that even got Anna
Marie’s daughter raped and disfigured her face before selling her as a slave. Count
Cartan’s infatuation with his lover must have not been normal, to have kept this many
of her possessions from Josephine.

“…”

Leaving that aside, she started to consider among all the clothes.

What clothes should she choose?

Considering that she had met almost none of the family members because of how
hurriedly she was brought into the residence last night, this would be her actual
“unveiling” to everybody. She had many other things to think about, but dressing up
well here would surely be of some benefit to her. However, it was ultimately just a first
impression. If she dressed up to the nines, it might leave a bad impression on
Josephine and the heir whose name she did not know, and it could possibly be used as
evidence to criticise her upbringing. With that said, if she dresses too conservatively,
it would upset the Count who wanted to show off his daughter to everybody. Finding
the right balance was challenging.

‘’How about this?”

After some hesitation, she picked up a scarlet one-piece.

It was a design that was mildly showy for just wearing at home, but for a woman with
fair skin like her, choosing a plain colour would cause her to look dull. She had always
been an attendant waiting behind her master, so picking dull colours was suitable,
however, this time she focused on choosing something that went against her instincts.
With that in mind, she aimed for the colour red, which was likely to be eye-catching
and not too fanciful.

Sure enough, as the maid helped her put on the clothing, the maid beamed in great
delight.
“I think it is a brilliant choice. As expected of a person with the blood of high nobility.”

She was too insensitive. It was her bloodline that led her to where she was now. She
could now empathise with how her master felt when he wanted to hide his talents and
avoid the seat of power. There were too many details that she rather not pay attention
to and too many things she would rather not do.

Nevertheless, she knew that the maid held no ill intentions. For somebody randomly
assigned to the Count’s long lost daughter, she was a rather kindhearted person. Even
though she did not possess magic powers, she wanted to bring her back, have her
undergo the brainwashing and make her a subordinate.

She freely contemplated about such matters as she let the maid change her. It did not
take too long for a trained hand to change her.

The mirror reflected a familiar, yet unfamiliar person.

“Wow, milady is so beautiful! Milady must be the most graceful lady among the four
countries. The head of the family would be able to hold his head proudly.”

Uni stared at the mirror motionlessly as the exaggerated praises went in one ear and
left the other.

The person she saw was a living copy of the Anna Marie she faintly remembered from
her memories. She could somewhat understand how Madam Josephine could mistake
such a person as a ghost. There were some minor differences in their hair length and
expression, but it was entirely possible for somebody to joke that they were two peas
in a pod. In fact, her dead expression was a reason why others believed she was a ghost.

It might not be simply the result of the Countess’ delusions that she saw Anna Marie’s
ghost. Once could sense the depth of grudge of the woman from the netherworld by
looking at the girl in the reflection.

―Did she want Anrietta Cartan to be welcomed into the family to that extent?

Somehow, she managed to suppress the repugnant words that were about to emerge
from her throat.

…Something was really wrong with her. If she was functioning normally, she would
have wiped the vulgar thoughts clean immediately.
Still, she had to avoid any big mistakes, even if she was underperforming. At the very
least, she needed to maintain her flawless record until plan D was executed.

“―Before we start with breakfast, there is a person I wish to introduce… Come in.”

At the same time when the person on the other side of the door heard the Count, she
opened the door to the dining hall. The young lady, who became her direct master
from yesterday night onwards, gracefully stepped into the room and smoothly
transitioned into a bow.

“She is my daughter, Anrietta.”

“…I am Anrietta Pola ―. Pleased to meet everybody.”

She lowered her head in sync with the Count’s introduction.

Standing behind her, the maid felt only strong satisfaction from her clear voice and
elegance. Last night, when she heard that the head of the family, Count Pierre Simon
Cartan, had reunited with his long lost daughter and brought her back, she was greatly
shocked. She was so shocked when she was told that she would be her attendant, that
she forgot her manners and responded with a single “Huh?”. What boggled her mind
the most was the alluring beauty of this young lady.

Her delicate skin was lily-white and her large emerald eyes looked like jade. Together
with her well-shaped cherry blossom lips and her straight nose, she was so beautiful
that one might consider her to be from a painting or a statue that came alive, rather
than an actual human being. She looked pale from exhaustion last night, but now that
she had somewhat recovered from her fatigue and put on make-up, she looked
absolutely dazzling.

(I heard that she was born from the mistress, but oh my, who would have thought that
she would be this much more prettier than her mother.)

There was a saying that one could perceive the looks of a mother from looking at her
daughter. A wife as jealous as her would never leave out any possibilities.

The butler and waiters, and of all people, her half brother, appeared to be captivated
by her. Other maids like her were either feeling bitter at the difference in their beauty,
hiding their faces in embarrassment, and some even had eyes of longing.

The only exception was,

(Wow… as expected, it wouldn’t work on the madam…)

Madam Josephine’s face went pale and started shivering in fright. She heard that the
Count, who was accompanied by Lady Anrietta, took a later carriage to return home
last night. Her husband, who had been so overjoyed at reuniting with the child of his
mistress, stayed behind. The humiliation she felt must have been unimaginable. And
to add on, she was the person that instigated the whole scandal of kicking the mother
and child out 11 years ago. Everybody who worked in the residence knew that as a
fact.

“I know some of you already know, but she had been unfairly implicated in her
mother’s wrongdoing. However, she will probably be proven innocent by a second
trial by the High Court of Justice, which will happen soon, and we will officially
welcome her into the family then. Some of you might think it may be too hasty, but
please, treat this child well.”

It was as though Count Cartan’s words were rubbing salt into the Madam’s wounds. It
was the same as declaring that what she did in the past was wrong. It should deeply
hurt the pride and authority of the first wife. Clearly, such an insensitive act would
rekindle the jealousy of the Madam.

(I only hope that my mistress would not be dragged into this fight, though.)

First of all, her wish was likely futile. When Josephine expelled her mother, she listened
to nobody and framed her with adultery. This was the daughter of the woman she
hated so much, and this time, her daughter had both youth and beauty. There was no
way that such a jealous wife could control herself.

Since she was now Anrietta’s attendant, she could not pretend it was somebody else’s
business and felt uneasy.

“Well then, how could we let you keep standing like that. Have a seat, Anrietta.”

“Yes… Father.”
In the instant she said that, the Count’s dignified look vanished and loosened.

While it was unbecoming of a person of his age, she felt that it was impossible to
control one’s emotion when called like that by a cute daughter. After all, he had lost
his daughter before she grew to independence. To react with a wide smile was more
or less normal.

Yet, was it actually possible for Madam Josephine to ignore that, despite her obvious
flushing and swelling of eyes?

She kept her thoughts away and helped Anrietta take her seat by pulling the chair out
for her.

“Since it is breakfast, I usually wouldn’t ask to raise our glasses… but let us at least
celebrate the return of my daughter.”

And with the Count’s cue, breakfast began.

Oddly, breakfast was quiet. Not even the traditional grumbling of the Madam and
clearing of the throat by the Count. The Count was bashfully gazing at his daughter
having breakfast, while Madam Josephine appeared to be looking around to find an
opportunity to say something.

The Madam probably wanted to make some snide remarks if Anrietta made any
discourteous behaviour. Unfortunately for her, she used her tableware flawlessly and
even drank without making a single sound.

She heard that she worked as a maid for an aristocrat before her reunion with the
Count, so perhaps she remembered the proper manners from then? Her flawless
conduct could only be described as admirable.

On the other hand, the eldest son, the heir, made clinks and clanks while handling the
fork and also loudly slurped the cold-served soup.

“…Cough, cough.”

“S-Sorry, Father.”

Finally, he was startled by his father, whose good mood was ruined. One might not be
able to tell who was actually the child that was just brought into the house.
She wondered whether it was right to pamper a child, even if it was a child who the
Madam gave birth to in her late childbearing ages. The person in charge of his
upbringing was none other than her master, Madam Josephine. Being highly strung up
and overly protective, she let him constantly pick up bad habits, so much so that
everybody now refused to take on the role of teaching him.

And what they were witnessing now was the result of her overzealous parenting. The
maids who were often ridiculed by the Madam, did not go as far as to smile in such a
situation, but there were darting glances at each other.

However, now that she is Anrietta’s maid, she could not feel that way. That was
because the Madam would now be using the master she now serves as an outlet for
her humiliation and frustrations.

Finally, as the meal approached its end, Josephine fired the first volley.

“……Anrietta”

“Yes. How may I help you, ma’am.”

Way to go, she thought. As the trial had yet to occur, she was still not yet considered
innocent. She was not of status to address the first wife of the Count as “stepmother”
before obtaining approval to do so. There was much thought in Anrietta’s reply, but
surely, the Madam would take it the wrong way and think she was being impertinent.

In any case, it wasn’t like she could please the Madam either. What the aging old lady
wanted was to nitpick and find ways to condemn her.

Sure enough, the Madam twitched her brows.

“Honestly, it is quite surprising that you are such an elegant lady.”

“I am most thankful. But, surprising?”

“Indeed. With only your face as the exception, your manners are completely different
from your mother’s. She didn’t seem to know how to sit on a chair.”

“…Josephine!”

Count Cartan couldn’t help but intervene after she made such an improper remark.
What Josephine was referring to was probably that one time when Anna Marie was
expelled. She heard that when the Madam accused Anna Marie of committing adultery
with another man, she was so shocked that she fell off her seat. If the incident was
entirely fabricated by the Madam, then just falling off her chair would be considered
a light reaction in comparison to the the accusation she faced. If it was her, she might
have fainted or even have a heart attack.

But really, the Madam’s jealousy and arrogance was hardcore. To think she could utter
such words to the daughter of her husband, who was recently brought back home. No
matter how much confidence she had in her status as the first wife, couldn’t she have
at least controlled herself until the Count was no longer in sight?

Still, Anrietta was impressive. She did not even flinch at the outright insult at her
mother.

“For the sake of my mother’s name, I wish to contribute as best as I can to the family.”

Such was her reply. She showed modesty, defended her mother, and even retaliated
against the insult on her mother’s name in a single sentence.

She could hear many gasps in the dining hall. With this, many of the family members
would probably no longer see her as simply an illegitimate child, but as a well-refined
lady. The other maids in charge of her were also amazed.

When the maids met her for the first time last night, she looked worn out and did not
say anything before shutting herself in her room. Most of them must have had
expected her to be unable to fight back against the Madam since she looked so timid,
but to think she could stand up against her like this now. Their worries from last night
were unfounded as they found themselves in admiration for her all morning.

At this juncture, she would think it is far better to back down, but Josephine wouldn’t
do so. In the Cartan’s family, as long as one was female, Josephine would often corner
that person with her authority as the Count’s wife. If she had her eye on you, the only
way to soothe her anger would be to prostrate before her and beg for forgiveness.

“……Aren’t you one with a clever mouth.”

“Thank you very much.”

“Is this how you were disciplined in the previous house?… The second son of Oubeniel.”
The surrounding people were roused up by the name she stated.

“O-Oubeniel!? T-The second son!!?”

She almost couldn’t control herself and forced her mouth shut.

The second son of Oubeniel. It was a notorious name among the circle of nobles in the
capital. Of course, commoners who served the nobles in their residences would also
have opportunities to hear about rumours. She also heard about him in such a manner.

She remembered those rumours.

Tullius Shernan Oubeniel. Also nicknamed as Slave-Murderer or Man-Eating Snake.

He was a devil that bought slaves, brutally killed them, and burned the corpses to their
bones in the garden. And he did all that before he turned ten. It was one of the ghost
stories that might haunt you in your dreams if mentioned before bedtime.

Such a name should not have been uttered at all during mealtime.

For a timid person like that eldest son, he was already covering his mouth with a
napkin and staring at his half sister with a pale complexion. And who wouldn’t be like
that? If what Madam Josephine was saying was right, then Anrietta worked for that
monster. The rumours about him were enough to make one’s hair to stand, after all. It
was disrespectful. but there was no way she wouldn’t be the centre of attention in such
a circumstance.

Josephine looked triumphant. Everyone who had initially looked at Anrietta as though
she was a refined and intelligent lady started to show a sense of aversion yet
intrusiveness towards her. The name thrown out by Madam Josephine had such an
effect.

“Yes. It is as you say, ma’am.”

However, Anrietta was unperturbed.

The Madam’s hollow victory faded and everybody looked on in surprise. Even the
Count dropped his utensils suddenly, hitting the plate with a sharp noise.

In a smooth transition, Anrietta rubbed her eyes and continued.

“Mast―my apologies, he was the one who brought me back to life without any scars.”

The Madam reacted violently.

The tablecloth on the table slid, causing the tableware to fall onto the floor and break.
Madam Josephine unconsciously raised her clenched fists, accidentally pulling the
cloth.

The piercing breaking sound enveloped the silence.

“Are you okay, ma’am? You do not seem to be well.”

As Anrietta said, Madam Josephine’s face completely changed. Droplets of cold sweat
formed on her face, and her dilated eyes were dyed reddish brown like a frog. One
might even wonder if Anrietta casted a spell, causing the Madam to turn into an evil
frog.

―Brought me back to life without any scars.

What could such words mean? If the Madam knew the meaning of those words to
some extent, then it was easy to deduce what happened. It was said that Anna Marie
and her moved to an area with bad public safety after being chased out from their
homes, and then, they were met with mishap and could no longer be contacted. Most
probably, they weren’t only kicked out of their homes, and as to what exactly
happened, the Madam must have had a hand in it. If not, the few words Anrietta said
should not have produced such an effect on the Madam. It wasn’t too far-fetched for a
woman this jealous to not just separate her husband’s mistress and their child but also
to finish them off mercilessly.

Count Cartan managed to discern the true meaning behind those words and came
towards a certain suspicion against his wife.

“Josephine, you…”

The Count’s growl made the Madam’s shoulders shiver.

Everybody appeared to be sending looks of suspicion at how she behaved too.

Ironically, her son was looking that way at her too. He knew exactly what his mother’s
temperament was like.
The ill feeling towards Anrietta bounced back to the Madam. She spectacularly
countered the attack by the Madam, which had utilised the social taboo — the second
son of the Oubeniels.

“…I d-do not feel well. I am going back to my room…!”

The Madam jumped out of her seat and tried to leave the dining hall. Because she
violently stood up, the chair toppled to the floor loudly. In a strange twist of events,
after criticising Anna Marie’s bad manners with the chair, she herself did the same.
Her unseeming handling of the chair was for all to see.

“Ugh…!”

After giving one last sharp glance at Anrietta, Josephine left.

What remained was an ear-piercing silence, a dreadful atmosphere, and the ruined
dining table.

The Count sighed, while the eldest son held onto his fork and knife and stared into
blank space. The plate that he was eating from had fallen and broken into pieces. In
the midst of this uncomfortable situation, Anrietta stood up and bowed deeply in
apology.

“I am very sorry, everybody. I have committed such clumsiness despite being invited
for breakfast.”

“Raise your head, Anrietta. Don’t say such things like being invited as though you are
a stranger. This is now your home, okay? Right?”

Count Cartan spoke in a soft, coaxing voice. It sounded unbecoming of a Count, but
then again, it was the first time he had a meal together with his daughter, and this
happened. Considering his daughter’s feelings, he would have to try to behave as soft
as possible.

Anrietta seemed to have taken the hint and obediently raised her face.

“I am very grateful for the Cou―father’s consideration. Unfortunately, I have caused

the Madam to be angered. I want to express my apologies to her afterw―”

“No, your thoughts alone are enough. That would worsen her condition. I will relay
your kind intentions to my wife. That way, it would cause less conflicts.”

“…I feel ashamed to have caused so much trouble.”

Once again, Anrietta bowed.

WIth this, Anrietta had succeeded in getting the Count to directly help her plead to the
Madam for forgiveness. While he was a husband that made her jealous all the time, it
was much better than Anrietta personally going to seek forgiveness. She did not know
if she had planned this, but if so, she was adept at concealing her true intentions.

Next, Anrietta approached the eldest son. Fascinated by her graceful movements,
nobody could say a word.

Anrietta picked up the broken pieces of the plates and murmured,

“……Alchemy.”

As though time had been reversed, the plate was back to its original state.

(M-Magic!?)

She was amazed. Count Cartan was formerly a well-accomplished court magician. It
was not too surprising that his daughter, Anrietta, was able to use magic too. But to
think she was capable of restoring damaged things so perfectly and with hardly any
chanting too.

“Its shape is restored, but it should be more prone to breaking than before…”

She said as she placed the plate back onto the table.

The eldest son's eyes sparkled.

“A-Amazing, elder sister! There is no need to be so humble! Let me take a look. Wow,
the design is the same as before!”

“No, I believe it was just a pretentious act compared to father, who was a court
magician. I have poorly fixed the plate.”

“No no no, don’t need to be so humble!”

The Count’s face cramped up. It was quite likely that the Count was unable to fix
broken objects as well as Anrietta did. After a fleeting glance at her innocent half -
brother, she turned to the servants who stood behind in standby and clapped her
hands.

“H-How may we help you, Lady Anrietta?”

“When the plates fell and the food spilled, my brother’s clothes were soiled… Please
help him wipe it off quickly or give him a change of clothes.”

Behind her crisp and gentle voice was an intensity that didn’t take no for an answer.

She had splendidly given an order to her subordinates without losing her class. She
behaved as though she was used to ordering servants around.

The servants who had been ordered were stunned in confusion.

“M-My apologies, milady.”

“Save your apologies for my brother. How long do you intend to leave my brother, the
heir of the estate, in such a mess?”

“I-I will do it right away!”

The fear-stricken servant pulled out his handkerchief and started to wipe off the dirt
from the eldest son.

The eldest son looked at his sister from another mother in bewilderment.

“Um… isn’t that over the top, sister? I can wipe it off myself.”

“……I do not think so.”

Anrietta replied firmly.

“Those who serve others have to always bear in mind to protect their masters’
appearances. It is absurdly foolish to leave dirt on their masters’ clothes. Also, since
they are working as servants in a Count’s family, don’t they have to show an equal level
of servitude?”
“Y-Yes…”

“If they do it again next time, please scold them. Magnanimity and generosity are both
virtues that a noble should have, but it is also the duty of a noble to guide the people
below him… And they have been in the residence for much longer than me. Though I
believe they would not make the same offence again.”

An all too painful logical argument.

And Anrietta was still a maid just yesterday. She was harsh on people in her old trade.

(I-I have to pay more attention too.)

She engraved it onto her heart. She would be most observed by Anrietta as her
attendant. Anrietta had the full rights and responsibility to reprimand if there was a
need to. If she carelessly made a mistake, she would surely be scolded even more
harshly than that servant earlier.

Her beautiful, yet terrifying master made a courteous bow to the head of family.

“……As a newcomer and somebody who has yet to be pardoned in an official trial, I
apologise if I overstepped my boundaries.”

“Ha, hahaha…”

Count Cartan raised his voice and laughed.

There was shock, confusion, and above all, joy mixed into his voice.

“No, that was splendid! What you have said makes perfect sense. I am very proud of
you.”

“Thank you for the praise.”

Perfect.

From the perspective of her maid, she could not have any complaints about Lady
Anrietta. She knew her table manners, how to show indebtedness, how to fight back
against the first wife, guided her brother, and displayed dignity to the servants. She
was also talented in magic, as one would expect of the child of a court magician.
Furthermore, she could do all these naturally while maintaining the right posture and
behaviour.

Perhaps even the royal palace would not have such a dazzling beauty like her.

(……Looks like I am now serving somebody incredible.)

She was thoroughly convinced of it as she observed the Count brilliantly smiling
without maintaining the solemness a Count should have.

After the breakfast, she returned to her room and heaved a sigh of relief.

Acting as a noble was uncomfortable. It was hard to move in her clothes. And most
agonisingly, her neck felt empty.

She longed for the weight of silver that she had gotten used to. It was proof that she
was his slave, proof of their contract with each other, and a keepsake of their 11 years
together.

Her master destroyed it. The mistake lay with her. If she could clearly remember what
had happened in her past, her master would have been able to predict and prevent
this incident. She believed in that.

Anrietta Pola Cartan is a ghost from the past, a person disconnected from the current
her.

Now that things had gotten to this state, she could now recall the events that transpired
in her past. The days she spent with her mother, the laughter of her father who came
to visit once in awhile, and finally, the day when she was broken beyond repair.

One day, she and her mother were chased out of their homes. She was unaware in the
midst of the chaos then, but she now knew that it had to be Josephine’s plans. Her
mother was assaulted by hired thugs and because of that, Josephine could accuse her
of adultery and banish her from her position as a mistress. The innocent and carefree
Anrietta did not realise anything apart from her mother being in low spirits that day.
Naturally, even if she was aware, she would not have been able to do anything as a six-
year-old.
And then, they were expelled to a shack in the slums. Before they had time to get used
to the inconvenient and rundown conditions, Josephine appeared. Together with a
group of disgusting men.

The fierce woman had no intention whatsoever to let the mother and child of Cartan’s
lover off with just accusing them of a crime. She said so herself. A whore would always
stay a whore, she said. As long as you continue living, you would just cozy up to
another man to climb the ranks, she hissed. As such, she would take the wretched face
she needed to maintain her business, she raged.

And then, upon her signal, they violated her mother. The wave of humans overwhelmed
her and enjoyed their sacrifice like animals.

Just when she thought it was over, it was her turn. Unable to hold back after Anna
Marie had been assaulted, Josephine turned to look at her daughter who moved not
an inch ever since the beginning. She violently attacked her.

She carefully and conscientiously destroyed her facial features. After fracturing her
bones, she would purposely heal her with defective magic so that it recovered in a
crooked way, resulting in her appearance as a raw piece of human flesh. And finally,
Josephine showed her, the failure of her face with a hand-mirror. Josephine made sure
to force open her inflamed eyelids so that she could have a good look.

Anrietta Pola Cartan probably died at that instance. Not when she was assaulted
without reason, nor when her mother laid flat on the ground without moving.

She wanted to be a splendid woman.

She wanted to be in a wonderful love.

She wanted to be a beautiful bride.

This pure, innocent and dreamlike wish was entrusted to her from her mother. Such
were the dreams the young girl vaguely held onto.

The moment she realised that it became impossible, she no longer thought of herself
as a human being.

When she finally regained some form of consciousness, she found herself thrown and
sold at a slave market like a slaughtered pig.
And then, they met.

“…You, what is your name?”

She remembered that she was troubled when a random boy asked her that while her
mind was still in a thick fog. Anrietta was the name of a human. Definitely not the name
of a dirty slab of meat like her. That was why she replied honestly that she did not know.

The moment she spoke, she lost her consciousness again as her last bit of energy left
her.

The next time she awoke, she was in a dimly lit cellar. She was in a state where she
could not move, and there was a boy single-mindedly working on her destroyed face.
There was some pain, but she did not feel like telling the boy. She was already a dead
person with a moving heart. She was the shell of a former human. That was why, even
if she was cut into pieces, she did not mind. If possible, she wanted to slip away as
quickly as possible. Not too long later, she smelled a strange scent and fell back to
sleep.

This went back and forth for an entire week.

“――Yo, number 1. Today is the day I will remove your bandages!”

She did not know how to reply as she gazed up.

She did not understand the meaning behind his words.

The 6 years of her life experience that she accumulated had already been dispersed
into fine pieces. At that point in time, she did not even possess the basic knowledge of
responding like a human being.

As though he was moving a corpse, he pulled her to a chair to sit and made her face a
mirror. Before this, Josephine had made her stare into a mirror to crush her soul. After
her heart broke, she no longer thought anything of it. She silently allowed him to do
whatever he wanted. However, she was deathly avoidant of her reflection, so she kept
her eyes shut.

“Wonderful…”
When she heard that, she opened up her eyes.

The face that she lost a week ago was facing her in the mirror.

She became overwhelmed with emotions.

Wait. She no longer had any attachments to her looks ever since she was destroyed
and died. The truth was that this captivating person in the mirror was another person.
Another person who was, at that moment, completely excited.

“It is okay for you to be here.”

“I am happy that you are here.”

The person in the mirror seemed to be whole-heartedly affirming.

Her day-to-day life had been disrupted, her very life was threatened, her dignity was
stolen, her mother died, and she lost her looks. Thanks to him, she could once again
breathe.

For the first time after becoming a relic of Anrietta, she felt the will to live on. In fact,
that was not a revival, but a birth.

The underground cellar was the womb. With the boy’s delight injected into the pitiful
girl, she was born.

Her voice trembled at the realisation.

“T-Thank you very much…!”

The first thing she said were her words of gratitude for him.

Thank you for helping me.

Thank you for your joy.

Thank you for being here.

After her clumsy appreciation, he hugged her.

“…Why, I should be the one thanking you!”

“You did a good job hanging on till now!”

“This was a valuable research experience!”

While being enveloped in both his warmth and his faint body odour, she etched his
words into her mind.

Her broken heart was being repaired. Amidst all that, something foreign to the old her
seeped in. Perhaps, that was the thing called love.

As she was reminiscing, her mind wandered to how they met.

It could not be helped, she thought.

She had been living as his property for more than twice as long as she lived as Anrietta,
after all.

She was a piece of property that existed to make him happy, to satisfy his demands
and to help him reach his goals.

She reminded herself that she was such an existence.

However, such days were over.

The collar to represent that she was his possession was not on her neck anymore.

As she felt grief and loneliness, she remembered what her master told her at the end.
The voice she heard as she left the reception room at Oubeniel’s residence.

“…Yes, yes! Right! If we are going back, we might as well go quickly!”

He seemed to be addressing Due and Marquis Lavallee, but in truth, the message was
for her, as Cartan pulled her with him down the hallway. For somebody who hated
inefficiency and excessiveness, he would not have raised his voice like that.

If we are going back, we might as well go quickly. Basically, it meant that she would
not be recovered and they would use the retreat plan. And since he went as far as to
inform her of that, it would mean that he wanted her to know in advance that plan D
would be executed since she would be separated from him.

And the instruction was for her to die without making it look like suicide during the
chaos when the plan was in operation.

Her chest tightened at the thought of it.

Ahh, my master is such――

(――such a compassionate person.)

That he would take the risk of being found out by the Marquis and grant her the honor
of taking her own life since she has degenerated into a useless person who would only
bring harm to her master. And to allow for it, he created a situation where her death
would not be considered suspicious by others.

Now, there is no need for her to have a protracted life of meaningless. She did not want
to die quickly, but to keep living while being of no use to her master was a life worth
less than trash, even if she could live a hundred or thousand years. A mountain of trash
was still trash. As a maid, she should have been quickly exterminated. It appeared that
her master understood her and was showing his gratitude.

Having received this much favour despite her incompetence, she had to hinder the
plans of Count Cartan to attack her master as much as possible. It was her final duty
to do her best before she killed herself. She firmly decided.

Even though she no longer wore the collar, she would definitely accomplish the task
given to her.

For that, she has to…

“Excuse me.”

“Ah, yes. How may I help you, Lady.”

She called out to her maid attendant, and she replied on the spot.

“…I feel cooped up in the room, it should be fine for me to walk around the house?”
“Yes, yes! Please do so! Please feel free to do so. As the master has said, the house is
the Lady’s home.”

Firstly, she verified that it was not a problem.

It would be better for her to walk around the house so she does not appear to be
brooding to the Count, and also, she would be able to grasp the layout of the house if
anything occurs. That was the judgement she made.

The maid took her hand and opened the door.

“This must be the first time Lady is living in the mansion?”

“……Yes.”

She came to this house before, but that was during the aforementioned scandal. Thus,
yesterday night was the first time she lived in the mansion.

“May I impertinently suggest that I guide you?”

“Thank you.”

The Cartan residence was not much bigger than a viscount’s, as one would expect from
a new Count. Broussonne was the capital but it did not have much land. One might
even call the streets cramped due to the walls surrounding the capital in four
directions. While Cartan was conferred the rank of Count, there might have not been
sufficient land space to build a large mansion for a newcomer.

And this might explain why the Cartan family gets a very good salary from the Court.
The residence was well-stocked with things like furniture and art pieces. The largest
masterpiece they have was a portrait of the Count painted by an up-and-coming artist
that they had to pay very well to hire. There was a small signature at the corner of the
portrait. She remembered coming across the name. It was the name of a person who
studied human anatomy in order to create realistic portrait paintings. In one of her
master’s personal research books, there was an illustration that this person was
responsible for. He was prejudiced against her master for carrying out experiments
on slaves, and yet, he employed a person of his kind to paint his portrait. However, she
did not feel like laughing and sighed instead.

Furthermore, there was a lack of uniformity among the artworks she could see, as the
other paintings hung in the corridor did not match with it. It was all for show. The only
possible explanation she could think of was that these expensive and trendy art pieces
were bought at random. She tried asking the maid about it.

“……Who bought these paintings?”

“These are the madam’s… Does Milady think they are in bad taste too?”

She could see why now. Josephine had been wedded to Count Cartan a long time ago.
That is to say, she would have an equivalent status to an illegitimate child of a baron.
She was probably much closer to being a commoner rather than a noble then. And
when her husband became successful, she became the wife of a Count. She could easily
understand her interest in art as a nouveau riche and her jealousy and hatred towards
women of low status because of the similarity.

“I am no expert in the arts.”

Openly expressing such an opinion would be cause for trouble in the future. Of course
she answered evasively.

“Oh, there is something that Milady is unfamiliar with?”

“Naturally. Since I am human.”

In truth, a person’s affinity to art was unrelated to whether one was human or not.
Opus-4, who puts on airs of a noble all the time, did not appreciate art. Fem would be
entirely ignorant of everything except for combat. For the long lived Drei, she would
be familiar with Dark Elf culture. She soon realised that among the people she knew,
possibly only Victor and… her master would be familiar with such things.

Her master remained indifferent to aesthetics and decorations but was extremely
talented when it comes to making things. He was so good that he could easily come up
with a finalised design sketch for equipment. Also, his creations like Fem were so well-
made that Fem’s eyes could mesmerise others.

As she became sentimental, the maid brought her about the residence. Well, it was not
that impressive of a home. It was an ordinary home furnished with expensive and
labour-intensive fixtures. When she asked to look at the servants’ section of the house,
the maid told her that it wasn’t a place fit for a Lady to enter, but she could tell that it
was not because she was being humble. For a small house like this, the servants were
likely squeezed too. Perhaps even the slave-maids at Marlan lived more comfortably
than them.

On the other hand, there was a plain mixing room in the residence, unlike most other
homes of nobles. That made it appear like a former court magician’s house, but even
then, that room was shoddily made. The underground basement that her master had
when he bought her was, as a matter of fact, somewhat larger than this. She noticed it
when she was in Gallerin; indeed, magicians did not seem to place much emphasis on
alchemy.

While she was walking and pondering over such things,

“――That’s why! Start reconsidering from now on!”

A hysterical shout could be heard.

“What is the matter, milady?”

The maid beside her looked at her perplexedly when she stopped. She probably did
not hear it. She had spent time training as a ranger by a thief. Her hearing was
naturally beyond that of an average person.

“You have been deceived! We don’t even know if that girl is truly Anrietta!”

The owner of that voice was Josephine. Which meant that the speaker earlier must
have been Count Cartan. There was no other person in the house except for the Count
who she would speak to about such things.

Next, a retort could be heard.

“No matter what you say, this is my decision as the head of this family, to welcome that
child into the family.”

“And that head of family had been deceived by that girl! Any number of girls with black
hair and green eyes can be found from Broussonne. Do you seriously think it is
possible that your long-lost daughter would appear at such a time?”

“Hmph. That was the same reasoning as the slave murderer.”

“What!? What did you say!?”

Josephine raised her voice in disbelief.

She held the same feelings. He forced her master to free her, and now, he did not even
bother hiding his contempt for him. In the first place, the reason she was not dead now
was because of him. If he could call his daughter cute, it would not hurt to show some
gratitude towards him.

“Yikes… Is it the master and madam?”

The maid finally realised there was an argument. In the meantime, Josephine’s voice
became heated.

“Ugh… In the first place, recognising an illegitimate child now would cause a rift in the
family! I have said and will say it again, there is still time to turn back! Retract the
report for the trial to the court right now!”

With regards to the peace in the family, the madam was right. The heir in this family
was, no matter how you looked at it, inept. Her master could somehow disguise and
cover up his deficiencies in behaving as a noble. As for the heir, even his servants did
not like him and did not actively make up for his shortcomings. And finally, a new child
appeared. Even if this child was female, it would surely greatly affect the family. There
was a fear that the husband of this girl might try to usurp the family’s fortunes.

One way to avoid that was to, as Josephine had mentioned, not recognise the child in
the first place. For every effect, there was a cause; if he understood that this would
lead to a negative effect, then all that was needed to be done was to negate the cause
for it.

This was the most cost-effective way to nullify the problem but the Count, who had
been captivated by his daughter’s cuteness, would not accept that.

“That’s enough! If you continue being so obstinate, I have some other considerations
to make too!”

“Considerations?”

“Consider who shouldn’t stay in this family between you and the child――”

“Ah, dear!? What are you saying――”

…See, as expected. If Josephine does get kicked out of family as the Count had
indirectly suggested, the heir’s already-weak authority would weaken further. Not to
mention the countless people that would take advantage of their domestic squabble
for their own gains.

The other option to deal with the reunited daughter would be to marry her off to a
family that could not or had no need to take advantage of the Count’s family. So long
as Count Cartan did not give up with trying to bring her into the family, this would be
the likely resolution.

Her guess for the most promising candidate would be Tullius. He held territory at a
faraway land and would thus have little effect on the capital. Also, his family status
matched up and most importantly, he had a deep connection with her. The Count
might dislike such an arrangement, but Marquis Lavallee had likely planned this out a
long time ago. By using Count Cartan’s family, which was under the Marquis control,
he could indirectly interfere with activities happening in Marlan. In the worst case, he
could make use of her to get Cartan to slander Tullius and execute him. One did not
need to think deeply to guess what might play out next.

She did think that this was an opportunity to become his bride. Or more like she played
around with that idea. However, that would not be what Tullius wanted from her. He
would rather not have the burdensome existence known as Anrietta Pola Cartan with
him.

That was why she was hinted of Plan D and ordered to counter by killing herself in a
way that appeared to be murder.

(Rest assured, master. I will definitely be successful.)

She herself had wanted to do it. Her desire to be tied in marriage to him were just
vestiges of Anrietta and not herself. The romance, or love, rather, that she wanted was
not something calm and soft. She wanted to offer her everything, as though a good tool
meeting a good user. Becoming a couple and becoming equals would be outrageous
rather than surprising.

Such lingering attachments were the reason she, who should have been striving to be
his perfect tool, became lost, useless and separated from him.

The spirit from 11 years ago as well as Josephine, who created it, continued to haunt
her. That was why she had to cut it short before it became a hindrance to him.

“Are you okay, milady?”

The maid’s voice made her come back to her senses. The maid was looking at her
worriedly.

“This is too much for milady after all…”

“Hmm?”

“Let’s go back. We won’t know when Madam would leave the room too.”

The maid said and pulled her arm along. For a moment, she could not understand what
the maid was saying. Could it be, by any chance, that she thought she was fretting over
what Josephine had said.

It was a misunderstanding, but there was no point nor reason she should correct her.
By the time she finished her thought processes, they were already back in her room.

The maid seemed to be rather fixated at what Josephine had said and snorted with
satisfaction as they were walking.

“Madam is being very cruel. Isn’t she?”

“……”

“Questioning the origins of milady is too much… That isn’t something to speak to the
master about. She sounded polite and all, but she was really just trying to order him!
That is just so selfish――”

“Stop.”

She opened her mouth unintentionally. The maid was shocked greatly.

“Ahh!? M-Milady? D-Did I displease you?”

It was certainly foolish to step outside her boundaries as a servant. However, she did
not mind that. She did not fault her for that.
“What did you just say?”

“Eh?”

“Please repeat once more.”

She stared at her waiting for the maid to repeat herself.

“T-That is just so selfish――”

“Before that.”

“U-umm… Is it, ‘She sounded polite and all but she was just trying to order him?’”

That was it.

As soon as she heard that, she had a flashback of yesterday’s night scenery. The
scenery when her master told her.

“――How long are you going to act like that? It is very troubling. Please come back to
your senses and fulfil your duty――”

Maybe it was because she was hinted at Plan D at the end; somehow she had clearly
forgotten what he had said earlier. Those words were what he said to her at that time.
They sounded like… they were for the daughter of a Count, but weren’t they orders to
her?

If she was ordered to kill herself, wouldn’t it be sufficient to just indicate that they
were using plan D? Such a long-winded way of informing her to do her duty was
unnecessary. That was how Tullius Shernan Oubeniel thinks.

If so, what was the true intention?

“――Please, come back to your original duty――”

Come back to your original duty. She understands it. She was unsightly at that time.
She was overly shaken by the loss of her collar, as she did not expect to be separated
from her master. Under those circumstances, it would not be surprising for him to
judge that she would not be able to understand a roundabout order to suicide.

Then what else did he say afterwards?

“――Once you have calmed down, take your time to reflect. Think carefully on how you
wish to lead your life――

“――a life’s journey is very long, after all――”

(Ahh…)

Life was very long.

That was absolutely not something you say when ordering to die.

He still had no intention to dispose of her.

…Then she should not be planning to die. Neither should she simply carry on
shamelessly living like this. Without a moment to lose, before the plan goes to fruition,
shouldn’t she return to her master’s side!?

“…You are brilliant.”

“Yes? What do you mean?”

Without paying too much attention to the blinking maid, she fell back into deep
thought.

She was an idiot. The answer had already been there, and yet she could not even see
the question.

This was a bug, a problem that had been with her some time ago. Once they succeeded
in escaping, she would definitely head straight to the lab to get some tuning.

(Returning to my master…)

The broken parts had returned to where they belonged. It was similar to what happened
to her 11 years ago, but there was something different about it.

Back then, Anrietta became Uni.

However, now she is back to being Uni.

She would return to his side. Overcoming all difficulties in doing so. She would not let
Cartan and Lavallee get in her way. She needed to get everything prepared and ready
before the time comes.

This house had “that” and above all, this was Broussonne. It was the place she had
grown used to for many years and was also the hunting grounds of the Silver Wolf.

With resolve, Uni lifted her face.

And she decided.

Tonight she would make her move. Since right now, there was barely any time left.
“Do you want to make a deal with me?”

“A deal?”

When she broke the silence between them, the aged woman’s eyes became round and
a sarcastic smile appeared on her face.

“Hmph, and I wondered what you were about to say… and of all the vulgar options, a
deal? You finally showed your true self. A ploy to threaten me and reap benefits for
yourself?”

Ignoring the aged woman’s narrow mindedness, she replied.

“Please do not misunderstand. I have only one wish and that is for everything to return
to the way it was.”

“The way it was…? Are you actually saying you want to be the head of this family――”

“It seems your misunderstanding of me was far greater than I had expected…”

She finally broke her blank face and made an obvious expression. She was sick of her.

She knew she was easily suspicious of others but this was just paranoia.

Sighing at the difficulty of convincing her, she continued.

“I am very certain this deal I speak of will be of great merit to you.”

“Stop beating around the bush… Hurry up and get to the main point.”

And who was to blame for delaying her from her main point? Well, she did not say that
as that would further complicate matters.
She decided to start with what she wanted to hear first.

“I am talking about sealing away the ghost from 11 years ago.”

“What did you say?”

“That must be a common point of irritation for both Madam and I.”

As she spoke, she went closer to the aged woman.

Until they were at a distance where both of them could smell their perfumes from each
other.

“――I too, find that Anrietta is in the way.”

This was a nearly impossible event in the last 10 years, but Linus seemed to be in a
good mood when he saw his younger brother, Tullius. After all, after he had made his
foolish brother stay in the capital, his wry smile had disappeared and his irritation
became increasingly obvious.

Marquis Lavallee made used of his connections to invite both his brother and himself
to a social gathering. That has carried on for the past few days. While Tullius had been
careful not to reveal his faults in his etiquette during the wedding, he would surely slip
up eventually at one of the gatherings. Normally, he remained shamelessly composed
when being scoffed at by others, but currently, he was forced to extend his stay in the
capital. Now that he was in a helpless state without anything to protect him, the insults
had a different effect.

During the functions, he would appear unperturbed but when he returned to the
mansion, he would appear to be depressed. Other times, he would see him complaining
to his accompanying servants.

It was a tremendously good feeling. Up until last year, he was made to do many things
because of him. He could feel a small release from the many years of pent up resentment.

Naturally, everytime Tullius slipped up, the honour of the Oubeniel family suffered.
Nevertheless, Linus decided that he would endure it for now. Soon, Marquis Lavallee’s
next move will be played. And then, once that was settled, the bell known as father-in-
law would be placed on Tullius’ neck. Since the Marquis has strings connected to the
bell, he could ring the bell anytime he wanted to.

With regards to the encirclement to finish him off, there might be some added
expenses needed to clear up the dirt. In any case, the more and more disgraceful
Tullius became, the greater Linus’ share would be.

The Marquis did not visit today. Drinking tea on the terrace felt better than ever before.

The only issue now was,

“…I didn’t think she was this immature.”

As the days grew colder, so did Simone’s gaze. However, it was not a big deal. Linus
simply feigned ignorance.

“What are you saying? As the elder brother, personally helping my little brother meet
with fellow important people in the capital is my duty. It would help him immensely,
you know? I am saddened that you think so immaturely of me.”

“The meaning of words changes according to the speaker.”

Simone appeared overly exasperated.

“I wonder whose idea it was to have the reluctant Lords arrange continuous parties
and diligently invite us?”

That certainly had Linus dumbfounded.

For some reason, Simone sympathised with his foolish brother. Was it because of the
impression he left when being introduced to him? Or was it because she empathised
with him as another person getting caught up in the plans of the centralist faction.

Whatever the reason, she did not have good taste.

Even Linus did not want to team up with the monster-like Lavallee’s faction had it
been possible. However, it was better than letting Tullius run wild for even a second.
There were conflicts between his own beliefs and the aims of the centralist faction,
nevertheless, as somebody who thought about the future of the country, he had to do
something to stop his mad brother from his dangerous experiments. His brother was
a person who would not mind piling up heaps of slaves’ bodies and sullying the good
name of their family to complete his experiments.

For now, he appeared to be a pitiable youth being targeted by his brother and an old
man, but his true nature was the opposite. For the sake of argument, he could understand
if she did not like the means to put Tullius to death. However, this woman appears to
loathe the act of killing Tullius.

She could not understand. She must have heard about the ghastly rumours surrounding
Tullius, so how could she be so friendly towards such a person.

“Now, now, there is no need to be so angry. It is about time the ridiculous ruckus would
end soon.”

“Yes, right. That is perfect. That is why we are married but do not seem like a couple
at all.”

Simone shrugged her shoulders. Her husband was called out for a strategic meeting
during their first night and since then, he had been devoted to his work. She could not
help but be sarcastic.

“…In short, a fiancee would be found for my brother-in-law, yes? I am talking about
Marquis Lavallee doing his best as a matchmaker. Soon enough, a poor girl would be
made a pawn of the old geezers once again, and who knows what would happen next?”

Looks like she did not completely read the old man's hands.

Feeling somewhat superior, Linus decided to drop some hints.

“Perhaps, the fiancee would be happy at such a development? After all… they may
already have some secret relationship.”

“Oh. I was ill-informed that there was such a girl who feels that way towards Tullius.”

“Isn’t there one? You know this one person too.”

“Don’t tell me…”

Having realised what the answer was, Simone frowned.

“Indeed, it is Anrietta Pola Cartan.”

The very moment Linus said that, he felt an overwhelming sense of delight.

With the flip of a table, the annoying ace up Tullius’ sleeve became the joker that would
deal Tullius a death blow. The Oubeniel family’s greatest calamity and his right-hand
man will soon fall to hell. Imagining such a scene excites him greatly.

“Of course, even for the Marquis, there might be some difficulties in persuading the
father, but it is just a problem of time. There should be some concrete development by
next week. Isn’t Tullius a lucky fella? She is a person with good looks and already has
an intimate relationship with him.”

Even for a person like Linus, he at least had an eye for beauty like many other nobles.
He had to admit though, based on her looks alone, that eerie girl had a beauty that
would rank among the highest in the kingdom. Though if one looked beyond
appearances, she was a supporter of the demon who wrecked havoc on this family.

“…I didn’t think you were such a despicable person.”

“Hmph. Is there a need to be so concerned? Apart from Tullius, I’m sure that girl would
find it a match made in heaven. She would be finally winning the heart of somebody
who did not reciprocate to her 11 years of accompaniment. Simone, didn’t you lose
your temper at my brother’s way of treating her?”

“In the end, isn’t she just a tool for your plans? If it goes according to your scheme,
what would become of Uni, no, Anrietta?”

Her apprehensions were about the treatment of Anrietta after Tullius is dealt with. Of
course, after Tullius meets his end, what is left would be a widow who had been
married for only a short while. Count Cartan would not want to have his daughter’s
history be besmirched by it. Still, it was not anything compared to her former status
as a slave.

However, that would only come to be if their marriage came to be. Just trapping Tullius
into a marriage with her was plenty problematic.

“…”

He had no intention to tell that to Simone. Telling her now would only make her angrier.
He remembered the investigation report written in the plans.

(If the Marquis’ investigation was accurate, then the girl is no longer a virgin)

That bad wife inflicted such a terrible fate on a six year old child. Even for somebody
like Linus, who had to endure vulgar scandals about their family because of his little
brother, he could not help but feel sick at it. However, if that is the truth…

(Then they would make Tullius bear the crime of that and report to Count Cartan that
he had forced sexual relationships on her before marriage. Hmph, seems like the
Marquis’ plans are well thought out.)

Basically, things would happen this way. If what Madam Josephine did 11 years ago
came to light, the reputation of the Cartan family would suffer. The legitimate wife had
used merciless means to torture the illegitimate child. The terrible name would
cascade down to even the heir. Before that, if they could have Tullius who was already
notorious draw all the attention, it would be better.

Tullius claimed that he did not have any sexual relationship with that girl during the
night before his wedding. Surely, the simpleton would be able to figure out that if no
blood is found on the mattress when Tullius has his first night with her, then it would
become fodder for gossip. With this plan to push the blame onto Tullius, the Cartan
family could solve all their problems by making them Tullius’. Count Cartan’s conviction
to do it was an unknown, but the risk for his family would be overwhelmingly reduced
with such a scheme. It was either become a widow or deflowered later, but either way,
both are better options.

Linus couldn’t care less what happens to the girl who assisted the slave-killer who had
ruined his family.

“Why so serious, Simone? For you, Tullius and that slave… oh, I mean the Count’s
daughter. Anyways, aren’t you all still strangers?”

“Yes, indeed…”

Simone spat out.

“And I am very much unacquainted to you, Linus.”

Linus recoiled at the hostility in her voice.

Linus had only met her 1 month ago. He had mostly left her alone while burrowing
himself in political schemes. For her, there was no big difference between Tullius and
himself. In fact, she might even feel some affinity to his victimised brother.

(Ridiculous…)

He shook his head at that thought.

Tullius might be a noble, but to actually let one’s guard down to that “slave-killer”?
Imposible. It was preposterous that she felt closer to him instead of a proper and
upright noble like himself.

“…We can get to know each other little by little. We have lots of time for that.”

It took him all his energy to say it.

Simone’s only reply was a scornful laugh.

“I wonder. How can somebody who cannot give his blood-related brother affection,
give any affection to an outsider like me?”

“I gave him enough chances and time!”

His loud shouting caused the table and the cups on it to violently shake. The cold tea
in the cups spilled on the table.

Simone was surprised at Linus’ lack of patience.

“That happened 11 years ago! In the meantime, how many times have I tried to urge
him to change!? It was Tullius himself that ignored my warnings and continued with
what he was doing! I can no longer… tolerate it!”

Linus knew his eyes were becoming glassy. But he did not stop. Why must he show
patience to his brother now? How many things has he lost because of him? His wife
was completely unaware of all this.

It was the same every time he was asked about or shown the deeds of Tullius. Every
single time, the gazes that people sent him became colder.

It did not make sense. Why was he suffering from all this?
“…I have had enough of accompanying you.”

Simone said and turned heel. Well, even though she was his wife, she has hardly
accompanied her husband in his work.

“Ah, sure… I don’t need you to accompany me.”

Linus silently gazed at the outdoors scenery instead of Simone.

Completely unreasonable woman. Normally she would be impertinent, so why is she

acting stupidly when it comes to removing his brother.

However, he did not care. The role he wanted Simone to play in the first act was
complete. That is ー inviting Tullius to their wedding and trapping him in the capital.
She was the partner he needed for this role. All that remains for her to do is to bear
his child.

He had no time to spare to play games with this woman. As a governor of a Count’s
family land, he had many documents to read and approve, and he had to form
connections with the lords and princes in the centralist faction, as much as he detested
it. He was also too close to Lavallee. If he did not maintain a tight knit relationship with
the other lords, one day, he would be cut aside by the senile man. He planned to create
a breakaway faction some day, but that would only be when he can protect himself and
his family. So before that, he had to try his best to pretend to be a patriot as much as
possible.

“Argh, dammit!”

Thinking about it made him frustrated. He felt somewhat better when he saw Tullius
being on edge but his frustrations were starting to pile up again. Work was tough and
thinking about his family was agonising. Linus had been working so hard for his family.
First, it was his father, next it was his most despicable brother and now, his wife. Of
course she was not at the level of his lunatic brother, but she was enough to depress
him. It was not that he was depressed with her in bed ー in fact, her beauty was a
lifesaver ー but the daily conversations with her.

He initially thought that she was an astute woman. He believed she would fulfil her
duty and protect the family, even if there was no love in their relationship. Unfortunately,
she became weird after his brother appeared. Originally, she had some misgivings
about the schemes, but lately, her dislike for it had been increasing. Despite it being
her job to help the family flourish, she was showing sympathy to the greatest threat to
their family.

His annoyance grew worse. His pleasant mood while drinking tea earlier disappeared
elsewhere. He wanted to beat up anybody who came into sight. He felt like venting all
his frustrations on somebody.

“Um, umm…”

He turned his head to the voice. For a moment, he wondered if Simone had came back
to apologise for her mistake, but he was wrong. It was a female slave. The usual female
that served him.

“What is the matter?”

He sounded like he was growling. Just as he was looking for an outlet to vent his
frustrations, she appeared as though she could see what he was thinking. That made
him further irritated.

“T-There was a loud sound and the ma’am left…”

It got on his nerves again at the very mention of “ma’am”. He was already considering
if he should beat her. Nevertheless, he still had some self-control. If he did something
like that, it would just give Simone another reason to blame him.

“And then? You are looking for me?”

“Um, umm…”

“Don’t test the patience of a noble, you collared slave. How audacious.”

Linus said and extended his hand, pulling the slave’s hair violently. Obediently, she let
him have his way as usual, and the sound of lips smacking leaked. As he retired to his
room, he locked the door.

So as to get further excited from when it was Simone as his partner.

 2

“Really! Your brother is such a jerk!”

“Please do not say that, sister-in-law. It is troubling for me to hear this.”

Tullius responded with a bitter smile to his sister-in-law who came to pay a visit to his
room.

Simone poured her grievances to none other than the notorious second son of Oubeniel,
Tullius. Before she met this villian, she was still apprehensive of him. However, after
having a real conversation, she found him to be a calm and gentle person who should
not be hated by anybody. In a stark contrast to the rumours, he was kind to his slaves,
and she could not see how the maids were subjected to horrible treatment.

Uni ― or more accurately Anrietta ― was perfect in both her education and beauty. So
much so that she had suspected if she was his lover. After Anrietta was taken away, the
replacement slave maid also maintained a similar level of cleanliness to Anrietta. Not
only the maids, the male slaves dressed in butler clothing were the same. It appeared
as though the rumours, which shocked the capital, were untrue.

“Still, isn’t alarming for the newly-wed wife to hang out in her brother-in-law’s room?
Weird rumours might start.”

Tullius said so with some anxiety, though it was already too late for that.

“Rumours have already started when I was married to this family. Things like what
happened such that I had to go to the Oubeniels. So much so that the remarks have
gotten beyond rude.”

“Sigh… I guess so. Ah, forgive me.”

He gave a slight nod, appearing as though he had never heard of the rumours. Compared
to Linus, who was conspiring with others on others, she had less to fear of Tullius.

“It isn’t like I am alone with you, right?”

She said as she gazed around the room. Laubert, a young low grade noble and Due, a
renowned bodyguard were standing by the wall uncomfortably. A butler and a maid
pair of slaves were prostrating themselves before her. These slaves were really well
trained.

“Ahh, please stand. I allow you all to stay relaxed.”

“Thank you for the considerations… Get back to your work. Bart. Emily.”

“We are grateful.”

After receiving permission, both the slaves relieved themselves of their prostrating
posture and returned to their jobs.

“What were you making them do?”

“Tea preparations. It is about time for tea. Would you like to join in, sister-in-law? It
might not taste as good as the rare leaves that brother uses, though…”

Simone was drinking tea with Linus just earlier. Still, their conversation was unpleasant
from start to end. Hardly anything enjoyable.

“I will be pleased to. My throat feels dry from all the talking.”

“Hahaha. It looks like you will be staying here complaining all day again. Gosh, how
surprising. I thought things would go well for brother with a lady like you.”

“…You must be joking?”

Her voice was completely flat. Tullius took notice. Was it… that surprising?

“Tullius, do you know what kind of woman your brother likes?”

“Well… He would prefer women with dignity and grace? He was always nagging about
etiquette and formalities in the past.”

“True, he does consider those important. But I do not think he considers those traits
important for the wife of the main Oubeniel family nor as Linus Strein’s partner.”

“Oh?”

While the slaves adroitly set up for tea time, Tullius continued listening to Simone.
“I mean, isn’t it the case? The ultimate role for the wife of the main Oubeniel family is to
bear children and raise them. That is something which does not require an emotional
bond between him and I.”

“That does not sound appropriate for a newly wed.”

“It is because I have just married, that I am able to say this much. I…, knew from the
very beginning. Linus would not be a good match with me.”

She could recognise that much from the interactions she has had with him up till now.
Linus does not desire her. The reason why Simone was in this home was not because
he wanted her, but because she was good for the circumstances. She was the person
randomly selected to fit his need of getting married at the right time.

Of course, most marriage between nobles were like that. Love can be cultivated after
marriage. That was something that could not be fought against as well as it being the
price to pay for a luxurious life that a commoner could never achieve. A noble ought
to have patience and act within one’s assigned role. She knew that.

However, Linus had not shown Simone the minimum level of respect to his partner
who was fulfilling her role as his partner. Everything he said was for his convenience
and nothing he did was for her consideration. He acted and used her coldly while
pretending to speak with respect.

At last, the one thing that he is most concerned about and the one that could make him
laugh is the schemes targeted towards his brother. It was ridiculous when he tried to
make her agree when what he was saying was in disdain of his only kin. There would
not be a woman who would open her heart to a heartless man like him.

Scratching his cheeks, Tullius replied.

“Just for reference, then what kind of woman would brother prefer?”

“Oh, shouldn’t that be something one would hesitate to ask a newly wed?”

“Sorry, that was careless of me.”

“I was joking. I do not mind. I have taken a liking to your candidness.”

As she said that, Tullius became visibly perplexed. His age was supposed to be the
same as Simone or 1 year younger than her, but his expression was so childish.

“Hmmm. Somebody who matches him… perhaps a woman that is completely opposite
of me?”

“A complete of opposite of sister-in-law?”

“Yes. For example, a woman who would stand quietly beside without making any
objection, even if she did not have a proper noble upbringing. A sweet and modest
wife who hides beneath her husband’s shadow. Honestly, as a male, what do you think
of a woman who is that convenient to her husband?”

“Isn’t sister-in-law not lacking in modesty?”

“My modesty is only towards traditions and courtesy. What that person desires is
modesty towards himself. As for me, I am increasingly trying to act according to how
a splendid wife should.”

“Haha. So you mean that would make any man lose their nerve. I can kinda get that. I
am somewhat like that too.”

Indeed, there are times when he feels like that as a docile son. He appears so harmless
in reality but for some reason, there are so many rumours surrounding him.

“…Lose their nerve? Have we ever seen master lose his nerve?”

“Hardly ever.”

His retainers were whispering something barely audible.

As Tullius tried to strain his ears to listen closely,

“…The tea is ready.”

The male slave called Bart placed the cups quietly on the table.

“Thank you.”

After receiving the thanks from Simone, the butler quietly bowed and took a step back.
Tullius also received a cup and saucer from the maid.

Peering into the cup, she noticed that the colour of the tea was tinged with a slight
yellow rather than red. There was a peculiar sweet fragrance to it.

“What is this?”

“It is an herbal tea. I have had rosehip prepared for today.”

The tea was infused with some herbs. Among the nobles who enjoy drinking high
quality tea, there are some that denigrate it by calling it a “tea substitute”, but when
Simone was at her home, it was something she had during her breaks when she was
studying. Well, she did not use rosehip before, but it was still nostalgic.

“I prefer it lighter so it might taste somewhat sour. Feel free to add some honey or jam.”

“Really? Then I shall have the same as you for starters.”

Indeed, it tasted sour, but was on the mild side. There was some gap between associating
the fragrance with sweetness, but that would vary from person to person. It was not
bad.

On the other hand, Tullius grimaced as he sipped his tea.

“Ugh, too strong…”

He murmured. It seems that this was brewed stronger than what he would have
preferred.

“My apologies, master.”

“No, it is alright. I made you prepare the tea on a short notice after all…”

To the apologising maid, he waved his hand graciously in forgiveness. However, he

appeared to be looking faraway, as though he was thinking about somebody else. He
said that the maid was made to brew tea at a short notice. Then who was in charge of
this normally?

Could it be anybody else other than that girl?

Uni ― ah, no ― Anrietta Pola Cartan.

The girl who was Count Cartan’s long lost daughter.

Tullius claimed that their relationship was not one of man and woman. He said that
not to belittle Anrietta, though. Simone found herself thinking about them as Tullius
tolerantly sipped the herbal tea which was not in his preferred flavour.

“Hey, Tullius.”

“Yes?”

“The person who used to make that tea… was it delicious?”

Curiosity got to her.

“…Yes, very much so.”

He replied while looking distantly.

He was clearly in low spirits. That feeling struck her chest, which was worn out from
her dry marital relationship.

As she had expected, that girl was no ordinary existence to Tullius. Else he would not
have her serve him for 11 years and he would not have brought her to Oubeniel’s
residence for the wedding.

It might not be a relationship between sexes, but it was a relationship that ranked as
high as it. Surely there must be something in their relationship.

She was one of the people who tore apart their relationship. Even though it was her
husband and the Marquis that planned to call him to the capital and start an incident
during the wedding ceremony, she still bore a large responsibility for it.

Strangely, her heart ached. For him, it must be far worse. How could she have
thoughtlessly asked him such a question.

“Don’t worry about it. Sister-in-law has nothing to do with it.”

“But…”
“I do not mind… Anyways, that child was excellent. Even if she is not with me, I am
sure she will do well.”

He took a large gulp of tea to hide his emotions. And he commented that the tea was
too strong. His face was that of somebody enduring something bittersweet, just like
the tea he drank.

“You are kind.”

“I have no interest in pointlessly bringing up unpleasant things with others. These

guys who I push around would be greatly shocked at you calling me kind. Right, Due?”

The man who was brought into the conversation smiled awkwardly and tried to reply.

That was when…

“…I will not… trouble… master…”

“Go away! It is… an emergency…”

It sounded like there was a quarrel in the corridors.

Tullius was under surveillance by Linus now. He aimed to stop him from going
anywhere by inviting him out for social gatherings and effectively put him under
house arrest. Thus, for anybody to meet with Tullius, he or she must first obtain
permission from the head of the family, Linus, though Simone was completely
unaware of that.

It seems that there was a guest forcing his way to meet Tullius. Finally, the guest
stormed open the door. He was a man dressed in lawyer robes who looked like a
government official.

“Is this the room of Marlan Viscount Tullius Shernan Oubeniel?”

Tullius seemed unperturbed by this haughty man who suddenly appeared.

“Yes, you are right. I am Tullius.”

“…The High Court summons you. Please comply immediately.”

Simone blinked her eyes in confusion at this scene.

The High Court of Justice was the kingdom’s judiciary branch that arbitrates on
conflicts between nobles. Their power comes from the royalty and all nobles whether
powerful or weak must comply with them.

Tullius is being called to such a place? Why?

Simone held her breath, wondering if this was a plot in action by her husband and the
Marquis, but Tullius smiled without any hint of worry.

“Your worries are unnecessary. If the verdict is truthful, then nothing will befall me.”

“Verdict? Tullius, what did you―”

“Sorry, the summons seem urgent so I will leave the explanations for later… May I have
some time to change?”

Tullius cut the conversation short and spoke to the man.

The man brushed his moustache and thought for a bit.

“Very well. It will not be appropriate to be dressed in ordinary clothes. For the
sacredness of the trial, I shall allow that. I shall be waiting at the carriage in front of
the residence. Please hurry up.”

He gave the approval.

“I already know that!”

His reply was full of positive energy. As though, he was about to be reunited with his
lover. Simone could not make sense of it.

―She could not make sense of it.

The maid working at the Cartan’s family was at the height of confusion.

The reason was because of the illegitimate daughter of the Count, who she started
serving 1 week ago. For the entire day, she presented herself with intelligence, so what
was she doing now? Has she gone mad?

The scene before her made her consider such an impolite thought.

“…Ah, this is the one attire I like the best.”

The lady ― Anrietta ― was wearing a maid uniform. A deep red one piece with a snow
white apron over it. To finish it off, she wore a white brim on her head. Without a
doubt, this was the appearance of a maid. Certainly, her prim and proper attire suited
a girl like her, but under no circumstances did it match her status as the Count’s
daughter.

“W-Where are you going with that m-maid uniform?”

She could not help but ask.

“I am just giving back what I gave the Count.”

The Count? What is with her now, treating the Count as a stranger again.

No, the bigger problem is,

“Please stop, mistress! We are attending the trial at the High Court of Justice! You have
to be wearing something that matches your status!”

Right. Despite being called into the High Court as Anrietta, she specifically picked this
appearance. Despite attending the strictness of the trial, the Count’s daughter chose a
maid uniform? It was completely devoid of any reason.

Her mistress replied calmly.

“Then it is less of a problem.”

“I am wearing something that fits my status.”

“H-How so!? In which kingdom is there a lady who wears that to face lawyers!?”

In complete disorder, she forgot to maintain her behaviour as a maid and shouted.
Anrietta did not look like she was angry, neither was she smiling.

“Exactly.”

“Huh!?”

“There is no such lady who does that.”

She was at her wits’ end. She said that but what she was doing contradicts herself.

“And I like to apologise to you as well.”

“No need to apologise, more importantly is that summons…”

As she tried to refute her, Anrietta bowed deeply.

She almost wanted to burst into laughter. That was definitely not a level of respect a
noble should be giving towards a servant. It was like a slave giving respects to a
commoner. Her mistress in the maid uniform continued to speak.

“I am deeply sorry for pretending until today―”

She could vaguely hear the collapse of something as she apologised in an overly polite
manner.

She could sense a big destruction coming.

“―I am not Anrietta Pola Cartan.”

“…Huh?”

What was she saying?

The maid was thrown into greater chaos.

The girl in the maid uniform continued.

“My name is Uni. I work as a maid and I am a slave.”

At the local courthouse, the visitor’s gallery was brimming with curious nobles,
despite the sudden court session. Nobles are the kind of people who cannot turn away
from gossips. It was a pitiful habit which without, they were unable to survive. It was
because they might lose their position in society if they were unable to unravel each
and every thread of information in society.

Uni did not hold any contempt for their behaviour. In fact, she was grateful.

All of them would now become witnesses to she and her master winning the court
trial. They are the messengers who will rapidly spread the results of the court trial to
the rest of the capital. As such, they absolutely had to win this trial.

While waiting for the trial to begin, she surveyed the faces in the court.

Count Cartan was sitting at the core of the defendant’s dock. He appeared to be
agitated. He looked straight at her and was sending signals of disbelief. He had been
called up as a defendant with very short notice and Uni, who he believed to be his
daughter, was seated directly opposite him while in a maid uniform. All of these must
be adding up to his confusion.

Marquis Lavallee was a witness on the defense side. He was whispering and berating
the Count. Although he was acting as a fine old gramps who was concerned for the
Count, sometimes she could sense irritation directed towards her. His plan which had
almost been perfect was starting to come apart with this unexpected gap. Surely, he
was upset by the current turn of events.

Josephine was sitting at the core of the plaintiff's side of the court. Her facial
expression was bad. Was she starting to feel awkward about accusing her husband or
did she feel confidence from her persuasive accusations? Well, her physical condition
was not satisfactory, but if she overcame this, nothing else would matter, she thought.
And most importantly.

“Oh. It has been a week.”

A young man called out to her casually while sitting down.

Her most beloved master, Tullius Shernan Oubeniel.

(Master…!)

Her eyes became moist and she almost wanted to shrill in excitement. She was not
allowed to serve him, unfortunately.

Everything rested upon this trial. Uni silently bowed as though she was praying for
forgiveness.

Linus could hardly believe that they were playing such a hand. He had a stiff and
unpleasant look on his face, as though a bug got into his mouth.

When he received news that Tullius was being summoned to the court, he rushed to
the visitor galleries alongside with Simone.

Accordingly to their plan, the trial should be occurring 3 days from now, in order to
officially recognise Anrietta Pola Cartan. After that, she was supposed to act as a bell
on Tullius.

To think she would take her supposed father, Pierre Simon Cartan to court instead.

It was truly a bolt from the blue.

“What is the trial about?”

No matter how bewildered Simone was, it was not like Linus knew any better. He had
chased after Tullius once he got the news that he had been summoned. He did not even
have the time to gather more information.

“Well. The Count’s wife is the plaintiff. Which means this is a Cartan family’s internal
dispute.”
“Then why would Tullius be a witness…”

That was the one thing that perplexed him. He was extremely certain that the only
connection between Tullius and Count Cartan was Anrietta, the former slave named
Uni. Thus, he could not figure out why he was currently siding with the Countess in a
domestic family dispute within the Cartan family.

Linus could not help but think nonstop about these doubts. That was when an old
noble entered the court wearing a set of gaudy lawyer robes. He sat on the highest seat
reserved for the judge.

He was the presiding judge for this case. He sat upright, cleared his throat loudly and
the courthouse became quiet.

“I declare the commencement of this trial.”

He spoke with dignity, fitting for a person in charge of administering the kingdom’s laws.

The judge paused for a few seconds, allowing everybody, the accused, the accusers and
the visitors to take in what he had said. Then he prompted the prosecution lawyer.

“You may read the indictment.”

“Yes, sire.”

A young lawyer unravelled a roll of parchment.

“Pierre Simon Cartan, a Count of the kingdom. While holding such an authoritative
position, he has been engaging in debauchery in recent years. Especially in the
corruption of the moral good of the family, like a ball of yarn unwound.”

Basically, engaging in leisure amusement while having responsibility.

It was a stock excuse to bring down ostracised nobles. Obviously, nobles need to attend
evening parties and garden parties to build rapport with other nobles. A noble must
have met a political obstacle if he was being prosecuted based on such a reason. Well,
this condition was applicable for Count Cartan, who belonged to a new generation of
noble and had a scandal.

What Linus found incomprehensible was the fact that it was the Count’s wife suing
him for it. While she was an incredibly jealous person, she was still the Count’s wife
who had accompanied him through thick and thin. Hence, why would she be doing
this?

“Additionally, Count Cartan is accused of stealing Marlan Viscount, Tullius Shernan

Oubeniel’s slave.”

An uproar arose from the crowd.

Count Cartan face was flushed red, either because he was angered or because this was
not what he had expected. All he did was to take back his daughter. Why was he now
being criticised before everybody for stealing? Linus found it hard to swallow too.

Disregarding Cartan daughter’s insistence, she was definitely blood related to the
Count. Even now, Linus found it hard to believe, but he confirmed it when looking
through Marquis Lavallee’s investigation reports. If she was indeed blood related, then
Count Cartan definitely had the rights to request her return. Even if she was the child
of a mistress, it was still extremely inappropriate for her to be a slave.

Linus’ doubts were answered as the accusations continued.

“Furthermore, he is accused of lying that the slave is his child. He lied to reject
returning the slave back to the Viscount. This greatly runs afoul of the laws of this
kingdom.”

(What!?)

Linus was completely overwhelmed. Simone was similarly in some confusion but she
was simply surprised. For somebody who knew the truth, his disbelief was way more
than that.

Lied about the slave being his daughter?

If that was the truth then indeed, Count Cartan’s legitimacy would not hold weight.
But Uni was Anrietta Pola Cartan. She was the Count’s child.

Calling that truth a lie was nothing but a pack of lies.

Count Cartan was infuriated. So much so that he was no longer red, but purplish. If
this goes on, he might even suffer a stroke before the trial ends.
“He committed this barbaric act despite still having his main family. With the Count’s
conduct, his ability to uphold responsibility is in question. As such, the Count’s wife
has requested that her husband retire. That is all from the plaintiff, Josephine Louise
Cartan.”

“You gotta be shitting me!”

Sure enough, as soon as the reading ended, the Count stood up and shouted. The
claims made were all false and saying he tried to steal his own daughter was
downright ridiculous. Of course, Linus found it incredulous that Uni was actually the
child of a noble. But her age was consistent with Anrietta’s age. Moreover, she was
bought by Tullius at around the same time she went missing.

It cannot simply be that these were just coincidences. What other motivations could
the Count have other than to bring his daughter back to his family? It was impossible
for the Count to have any other reasons.

The judge rang the wooden clapper bell.

“The accused is to remain silent until he is called.”

“Grr…”

The Count was indignant. But he did not return to his seat. He would be called to give
his statement anyways.

The judge did not censure him further and continued.

“Well then. The accused may now voice his opinions.”

“Yes, judge.”

Count Cartan adjusted his collar and stepped forward from his seat.

“There are no grounds for these accusations!”

“Which parts of the accusations are you referring to?”

“Everything!”
The Count glared sternly at his wife as he shouted. As one would expect of a person
accusing her own husband, Josephine was pale. In any case, it was amazing that a wife
so attached to her husband, would actually raise a lawsuit against him.

(Most likely, Tullius was pulling the strings here…)

Linus glared at his brother whose cheeks were slightly lifted.

Linus had been observing Tullius ever since his wedding ceremony. Normally, his
people kept a watch on him in the mansion, effectively putting him on house arrest.
The only other times he could go out was when Linus brought him out for social
gatherings. There were no other opportunities he could have had to contact the
Count’s wife. Since Tullius was sitting beside her, it was evident that they were in the
same camp. But how?

(Also…)

He moved his sights to Uni who was strangely wearing her maid uniform to court.

Her enemy was right by her side and yet she was this composed. The former slave was
as brazen as her master.

In any case, what does it mean for Uni to be dressed like that? There were limits to
madness.

(It was as if she wanted to tell everybody that she was a maid… Wait a minute)

In an instant, Linus suddenly understood the picture.

“Anyways, why would Madam Josephine be raising such a lawsuit?”

“Simone, that is…”

Linus responded.

“It appears that the maid is now working together with the Count’s wife.”

“She is? How can that be?”

Simone let out a dry laugh. For Anrietta, Josephine should be her enemy who chased
both her and her mother out of the family. While Simone did not know more than that,
according to the Lavallee’s investigations, it was way worse than that. It was
unbelievable that she could work together with such a person.

However, Linus shook his head.

“Do you not understand, Simone? Including the events 11 years ago, the two of them
have always been calculating the pros and cons of everything.”

“…What?”

“Just listen.”

He explained to his perplexed wife in an easy-to-understand way.

“First of all, Madam Josephine is putting her son as the head of family, before he is
considered useless.”

People were already talking about how stupid and simple Count Cartan’s son was. So
if the Cartan's family only has this son as the successor, what will happen when an
illegitimate child of an appropriate age was brought into the picture? It would be the
start of a major conflict within the family. The illegitimate child may not be a male but
even a female would be plenty of trouble. If the husband of the daughter was given the
role of head of family, who knows if he might abuse that power? Also, with the Count’s
eccentricity, it was entirely possible that he would directly let his daughter become a
Count.

Marquis Lavallee had planned to use that as an excuse to push Anrietta to Tullius and
have her burden him. However, that plan was not known to Josephine. They needed
her to be genuinely shocked when she saw Anrietta and if they collaborated with
somebody as egotistical as her, she might have made some absurd demands as part of
the negotiations. Anyways, she understood the gravity of the situation and took action.

Josephine was equally the Count’s wife as well as her son’s mother. She endured 9
months of pregnancy to give birth to her son when she was middle-aged. It was not
strange for her to choose her son over her husband. Even more so if the person
creating the crisis was Count Cartan himself.

“In short, it is about self-protection. On a whim, the head of the family brought back
his daughter who she chased away 11 years ago. The Countess position in the family
would surely suffer as a result and it was a possibility that the Count would divorce
her to protect his daughter’s standing in the family.”

There will not be a happy ending for an old woman on the brink of divorce. She would
have to give up on her lavish lifestyle and be looked down upon among social circles.
Countess Josephine was known to be very prideful because of how she and her
husband rose from the ranks. She would not be able to handle a descent from her
environment now.

“Secondly, that maid has an abnormal level of loyalty to Tullius. She was suddenly
introduced to her father and the person who killed her mother. And yet, because of
her loyalty, she has chosen to ignore it all.”

To top it off, she has obediently assisted the slave murderer in his deeds for 11 years.
Even if she was coerced into everything because of the slave obedience spell, she
should have gone ill mentally from being forced to do those things. In fact, the majority
of servants in the Oubeniel family went crazy and retired from work after catching a
glimpse of Tullius’ experiments. Uni was abnormal in being able to remain indifferent
while participating in those experiments.

No matter how pretty she looks on the outside, she was a devil abetting his brother in
madness. From his investigations, there were many people who disappeared after
insulting Tullius. She must have done something.

She made a temporary alliance with her enemy to secure a return to her master.
Dragging her father down from his leadership role in the family was probably just
collateral damage.

“If they can forget their enmity towards each other, it is entirely plausible that they
join hands to bring down Count Cartan.”

This was Marquis Lavallee’s blind spot. He did not expect Josephine to put down her
grudge, for her to turn her back on her husband in order to stabilise her son’s future.
Now the circumstances are so dire that one might say that their butts are on fire.

It did not occur to him that the quiet maid would have the capabilities to persuade
Josephine, who was so obstinate.

“It does appear to make sense.”

“Yes, logically so.”

Linus nodded to Simone’s reply.

He knew that it was highly possible that Josephine and Uni were working together. But
whether they had a good chance of winning this lawsuit was a separate matter.

There was nothing to prove the nonsensical charges they were trying to accuse the
Count of. If they believed they stood a chance of winning, then that must be one of the
few merits of a female — shallow thinking.

Finally, the Count amazingly suppressed his anger and re-organised his rebuttal.

“Firstly, I do not remember corrupting the morals within my family! If they are
referring to the case which happened 11 years ago where I kept Anna Marie as a
mistress, it was because I wanted her to bear me a successor. As evidence of that, she
gave birth to Anrietta before Josephine gave birth to our son. Additionally, is it not the
responsibility of the head of family to make sure that there are other successors just
in case the original successor is frail and sick? Therefore, even if I hid the existence of
Anrietta for 11 years, it is no crime!”

Exactly. Josephine was already 40 and did not get pregnant, that was why Count Cartan
tried to bear a child with other women. He had no other benefits to do so. Even if he
was blessed with children, infant deaths are common. Even if the Count decided to
keep his mistress after his first wife gave birth, it would not be a problem.

Nevertheless,

“Objection”

Josephine raised her hand in the air.

“You have permission to state your objections.”

“Thank you very much, judge. The accused is trying to evade the accusations.”

“What!?”

The Count was dumbstruck.

The judge rang the wooden clapper bell in response to the Count’s shock.

“The accused. The plaintiff has not finished her objection.”

“…Yes. My apologies.”

The Count backed down. Of course, he did not forget to stare daggers at his wife while
backing down.

Josephine continued calmly and unperturbed.

“Then I shall continue. The fact is that my husband outrageous actions are ongoing
even today.”

“Unbelievable.”

The judge raised his eyebrows. On the other hand, the Count made a soft sigh. He was
amazed at the absurdity.

“With much embarrassment, we frequently replace our maids. And the culprit for that
is my husband, Pierre Simon.”

The Countess declared aloud. The visitors became boisterous again.

“Have you heard?”

“Yes. It is as though Count Cartan wants to lay his hands on the maids…”

“Don’t be ridiculous. That is just hearsay…”

“…Objection!”

This time, the cry for objection came from the accused.

“The reason for firing all our maids was because of Josephine’s jealousy. Besides, any
degrading suspicions are irrelevant!”

Count Cartan spoke without pause. As far as Linus was concerned, Count Cartan was
in the right. While Josephine’s jealousy was not as well known as Tullius notoriety,
many people were aware of it. From the rumours, any maid that spoke to her husband
would have a vase thrown at them and be cruelly disfigured before being chased out.

All this should have been common knowledge to the nobles in the visitor’s gallery.

However,

“Judge.”

Of all times, Tullius decided to raise his hand.

“I am afraid that this back and forth argument is a waste of time for everybody. It
would not be good to prolong this judgement, right?”

“Indeed.”

“Then, it would make sense to request for evidence for the Countess’ claims. I believe
the burden of proof lies with the plaintiff in such situations.”

Linus laughed coldly.

How shameless of him. He spoke as if he had nothing to do with the Countess, even
though he was in the same camp with her. This was just suicide if the Countess was
unable to come up with any convincing evidence. That was why he was a person who
lets his slaves do everything for him while locking himself up at home. Stupid brother
was stupid.

“Certainly, that makes sense. Well then, do you have any evidence, plaintiff?”

“Yes, I shall call my list of witnesses from the antechamber.”

The Countess was completed level-headed.

“Impossible.”

Count Cartan could not hide his indignation.

“I swear! I have never laid my hands on the maids working at our residence!”

“Is that evidence worthy enough to make a judgement?”

Tullius countered.

How could he act like they had a plan? He should not have had any coordination with
Josephine. The only link was Anrieta… Uni. Tullius should not have the time nor ability
to contact the Countess.

How could he have complete confidence that the Countess has witnesses prepared?

Meanwhile, the trial continued.

“We will now take statements from witnesses. Enter.”

“Yes.”

There were 6 witness who entered the courthouse. All of them were young women.
The oldest among them looked to be in her early thirties at best, while the youngest
was in her late teens. The rest of them were in their twenties. All of them looked
attractive but their clothes were old and worn out. They were probably commoners.
Standing out among them were two women with large scars on their face.

“Plaintiff. Who are these witnesses?”

To the judge's question, Josephine replied with a pale expression.

“They are all former maids who were expelled because they were unfaithful to their
master.”

“What!?”

The Countess confession stirred the visitors again.

“To think she would seek help from these strange peo⁠—adulterers to censure her
husband.”

“And this is the jealous Josephine we are talking about?”

“Just like the rumours, there were some of them with scars on their face. How dare
she still use them as witnesses.”

The visitors could not hide their wonder and exchanged whispers around. The gathered
witnesses were not as beautiful as Uni but they were all people which would make
Josephine look much worse in comparison. And these people were all standing by the
side of the Countess, so what exactly does it mean? Anybody who knows a fair bit
about the situation would be very confused.

And eventually, some would come to the conclusion.

⁠The Countess and the victims were all standing against the Count. Perhaps it was the
truth that the Count was involved in misconduct?

“…Objection!”

Just as the direction of the trial was changing, Marquis Lavallee raised his hand in
objection.

“Judge. As you can see, the witnesses brought in are people who might be facing
difficulties in their lifestyles. Do you not think the authenticity of their statements are
in question?”

“Are you claiming that the plaintiff has bribed them?”

“Indeed.”

The Marquis nodded.

It was true that it was possible for these people with scanty livelihoods to be bribed
⁠— even by a person they hate. As a matter of fact, there was a person here who did
not mind conspiring with the Countess even though she killed her mother.

“Objection unsustained.”

“What?”

The judge rejected the objection.

“Just because they are commoners and poor… well, it does make them susceptible to
bribery. However, the same could be said of nobles too. Peerage, rank, formalities,
social hierarchy, benefits… there are countless ways to get a person to bend their
testimonies. We cannot have a trial if we were to reject people from the witness box
just from this reasoning alone.”
It was a valid argument. While they should check for fake testimonies, possible bribery
or contradictions, they cannot do so strictly, else the trial would be unable to progress.

Marquis Lavallee could not have come up with such an elementary excuse.

(What are you thinking, old man…)

Even Linus, who was the Marquis' ally by circumstances, felt confused.

Naturally, he did not think this was just a blunder. There must have been some deeper
meaning behind it. But he has not understood it yet.

The Marquis sighed deeply. It appeared to be a forced sigh, but that was because Linus
knew the Marquis’ tenacity regarding his schemes.

“Judge, surely you will not be ignoring the origins of these witnesses and make a
judgement based on their testimonies, right?”

“Yes.”

“…Well, please excuse me then. Now that you say it, I think it is extremely reasonable.”

After making his token resistance, Lavallee returned to his seat.

The judge looked pleased. The judge probably had to be reserved in the presence of
the Marquis. The High Court was the place where nobles were judged in accordance
to the laws and authority of the kingdom. However, in practice, it was a tool to purge
local nobles for the centralist faction. Even now, the Court was actively being used to
purge nobles. He might have handed out unfair judgement on the instructions of
Lavallee before. And now, Lavallee was trying to defend the accused. He must be happy
that he could use sound logic to corner the other party’s argument.

(I dislike this geezer even more now.)

Of course, not as much as his loathing towards his brother.

“Witnesses. Please give your testimonies in order.”

“Y-yes…”
The former maids gave their testimonies in turns.

“No…”

The contents of their testimonies were enough to make Simone blush and that was all
she could say to Linus.

The witnesses were not simply just reciting their testimonies with a detached
expression. They were speaking in stutters and blushing, as though they were ashamed
of themselves.

The actions of the Count towards them were truly outrageous.

“L-lies! I have never, never done such…!”

“Silence! Silence!”

The judge rang the wooden clapper countless of times to Count Cartan who insisted
on his innocence.

Opinion towards Cartan within the courthouse was swiftly becoming cold. The women
who were violated spoke without any hint of hiding anything. Perhaps it was not a lie
that the Count has been committing such debauchery in his private life?

Such were the combined thoughts of the visitors.

And finally, Uni broke her silence and moved.

“Madam. It looks like master has not realised his faults.”

“Yes…”

As the Countess replied, her face grew pale. As expected, accusing her beloved
husband like this was difficult given that she had been devoted to him for many years.
Why do it then? Linus thought.

Josephine seemed like she might faint before the trial ended so Uni urged the judge.
“Now that it has come to this, I think it is foolish to continue with the other
testimonies.”

Other testimonies?

Linus narrowly avoided voicing out his surprise. Was she trying to claim that there
were more witnesses even after their concentrated artillery fire — the former maids?

The Countess, with her weak expression, seem to agree with Uni.

“Hmm… Judge. We brought other family members from the residence. Should they
give their testimonies too?”

The others from the residence.

Speaking of which, this was a conspiracy to bring down Count Cartan. Unfaithfulness
and misconduct were just the means to bring him down. If the goal was to switch the
head of family, then those who would be implicated included the vassals of the Count
family and the servants. These people would be more than willing to give their
assistance in such a scenario.

If they were not, they would have already relayed the betrayal to the Count. And if the
switching of head of family was successful, there were the risks of punishment for not
helping.

“Let’s assess them. More witnesses from the plaintiff please.”

With the permission of the judge, the butlers of the residence entered the residence.

They all confirmed the testimonies of the maids and when they looked at Count
Cartan, they looked pale, as though the world was about to end.

Uni was considerably pleased with how everything was moving according to plan.

Everything from the Countess’ accusations and the former maids’ testimonies.

Everything they said were done with Uni’s preparations. With the help of the
brainwashing scent.
It was a tool Uni was familiar with. It was invented way before Drei got her magic eyes.
While it pales in comparison to Drei’s magic eyes in terms of wait time and
effectiveness, it was still sufficient to brainwash most people.

Uni had been abducted ― from her own point of view ― and did not carry with her the
ingredients to concoct the brainwashing scent. However, Uni was an experienced
adventurer who had been active around Broussonne. This was the Uni who Drei
claimed was ‘not human’. She easily entered the dungeons around the city and
collected the necessary ingredients.

There were apparently people hired by Marquis Lavallee to keep watch on Uni, but
they were only observing from outside the residence. Once night fell and the curtains
rolled, she could use her spell <<Greater Teleport>> and not be caught. If the observers
were not highly proficient like the “masterpieces” Tullius created, then they would not
have had any chance to even detect Uni’s killing intent, let alone spellcasting. That was
how she could cast a high-level spell without being detected.

After gathering all the ingredients, she mixed them in a preparation room in the
residence. For Uni, this was the most difficult task of them all. It was extremely
inconvenient as the room was compact and the equipment was old. The first thought
that came to her mind was that even the old underground lab at Oubeniel’s residence
was far superior.

After the painstaking work of concocting the scent, she used it generously. She
brainwashed everybody at the Cartan’s residence. Next, she tracked down the maids
that had been fired and brainwashed them too. And that was how she arranged the
events today.

To accomplish all these alone within a week was considerably difficult for Uni. Despite
the results of it all currently being displayed in the courthouse, Tullius showed no
signs of admiration.

(Master is expecting this level of effort from me…)

Uni began to feel a strange warm sensation in her head.

Her master trusted her to perform perfectly. He believed she would overcome the
obstacles even after she helplessly fell under the trap of the enemy and became
useless. He knew that she would recover from this.
Uni tried her hardest to fight off the gooey ecstasy she was feeling and maintained her
expression. Anybody who was looking at her now would not notice anything amiss
and yet, underneath it all, her emotions were like a swirling whirlpool of lava.

(…I have to concentrate on the trial.)

Uni braced herself mentally.

Whether or not she can return to the usual days of serving her master depended on
this trial. By no means was this an easy walkover. At the moment, they had the upper
hand but the opposing side included the master tactician Marquis Lavallee. Who knew
what tricks he might pull when it came down to it.

“I think we have heard enough about the truth of Count Cartan’s misconduct.”

“Judge…! G-give me a chance to explain myself!”

“Do you have any evidence or witnesses?”

“Ugh…”

The Count choked on his words after being given a sharp glare from the judge.

He could not think of any evidence or witnesses to call. The usual list of people he
might call ― his vassals ― were testifying against him.

There was no other evidence that could dispute the events that happened at home.

“No, right? Then your request is denied. I declare the defence lacks witnesses and
evidence. The trial will proceed.”

Count Cartan’s appeal was ignored and the trial continued.

The indictment first accuses the Count of immorality at home. Second, stealing Uni
from Tullius and finally, lying that Uni was his daughter. Among the three, it has been
proven that the first was true. However, it did not mean the trial was now over.

Tullius’ winning condition is to get Uni back before plan D was executed. That means
the longer the trial took, the greater chances of losing. That would mean abandoning
Uni and escaping without her.
To avoid that, they have to accomplish a complete victory at this hearing today.

For Marquis Lavallee and Linus who were pulling the strings from behind to trap
Tullius in the capital, they would welcome the prolonging of the court proceedings.
They might have to tweak their plan slightly but nonetheless, there was enough time
to continue with the plan to get Tullius married. They could just replace Uni with
somebody else. There was no need to be fixated on using Count Cartan’s daughter. Any
other girl from a noble family would be sufficient. Lavallee was not one to care about
the minute details.

In any case, for Marquis Lavallee’s faction, all they had to do was to defend against one
of the three accusations. Overall, Tullius was in a disadvantageous position.

…But since she stepped into the ring, Tullius joined in the fight.

“Next, we have the accusation that Count Cartan stole Tullius’ slave. Please elaborate,
plaintiff.”

“Ah, yes.”

Tullius was prompted by the judge since he was the victim who had his slave robbed
from him.

As Tullius leisurely walked towards the witness stand, Uni smiled as though she was
looking at something dazzling.

“Hm… one week ago, Volden Count Linus Strein Oubeniel held a wedding ceremony.”

Tullius began to talk.

Linus, who was most probably attended the trial as a visitor, would be grimacing when
his name was called by her master.

“Count Cartan and Madam Josephine saw my slave, Uni and…”

My slave. Uni felt utterly blessed to be called that. The vibrations in the air translated
into bliss all around her head.

“The Count was surprised to see black hair and green eyes similar to his mistress,
Anna Marie, in her. Immediately after, he fell in love at first sight and used her similar
traits as an excuse to ask me, the rightful owner of Uni to…”

He even said ‘rightful owner’! He declared loudly that she, the lowly slave, was owned
by him in front of the array of nobles seated here!

Uni was no longer bothered by her emotions. It had already gone beyond the normal
emotional senses. Her stomach painfully contracted and she could feel her heart
racing.

Naturally, she made sure to conceal all of that. It was completely foolish to behave
inappropriately during the trial at the High Court.

She placed her hand on her chest while maintaining her blank look.

“…hand her over. At that time, I was considering the legitimacy behind the request, on
whether he was lying that Uni was his child.”

“Objection! Anrietta is my child!”

Count Cartan interrupted in an unsightly manner.

How unpleasant, cutting into master’s speech like that. Uni fumed.

Once again, the judge went for the wooden clapper bell.

“Rejected. I have not asked for your opinion.”

“Ugh…!”

“Thank you, judge… Well, let’s continue. I did not reject the Count’s request. After all,
Marquis Lavallee was present and he shared the same opinion with Count Cartan. Was
there any room for me to decline when I am so young? Thus, I let go of Uni, who was
wailing and crying. I waited for the law — your honour — to one day restore the
truth… That is all.”

Tullius ended his speech.

No matter how you looked at it, it was a tragedy. Her most important collar, which had
never left her skin for 11 years, broke off that night. Her collar was infused with magic
and would grow to match her body. That was why that collar represented her growth
and her memories with Tullius.

She had endless grudges against Lavallee and Cartan for cornering her master to break
the collar himself.

As Uni was silently contemplating, the judge looked in Cartan’s direction.

“The accused. Do you have any counter-arguments?”

“…Yes! Judge!”

The Count mustered all his willpower and answered.

He seemed to have recovered quickly from the earlier setback. His magical potential
and his stubbornness did resemble his behaviour.

Ignorant that his blood related daughter was getting sick and tired of him, Count
Cartan puffed up in pride and stated his argument.

“Tullius Oubeniel is lying!”

“Which part of it was a lie?”

“It is definitely a lie that he is claiming that she isn’t my daughter! This man agreed
that Anrietta was indeed my daughter!”

Looks like the second accusation was in the bag. Uni smiled.

The aim of this second accusation was to have the Count say that. They had planned
for him to say that from the very beginning. She was not the one who came up with
this plan. Tullius came up with this plan on that very night.

“Objection.”

Tullius immediately raised an objection.

“I don’t remember saying anything of that sort?”

He declared with complete confidence.

He refuted the claim without a shred of shame. Uni could sense the peacefulness and
formality in his expression. Ever since he arrived at his seat, Uni had been unfortunate
to not have caught a glimpse of his face. However, being able to see his straightened
back in an imposing manner was plenty for her.

Leaving that aside, Count Cartan flew into a rage at Tullius’ denial.

“What in god's name are you saying!? Didn’t you free my daughter from her collar and
handed her over!?”

(What a hot-tempered person…)

Just as Uni was annoyed, she remembered how she would sometimes lose her cool
when it had to do with her master. Their similar tempers did make them seem like
parent and child.

“Oh? How could I have forgotten what I said back then? Right, Uni?”

Her master looked over and she nodded.

He was trying to confirm that she had made preparations

Of course, she had already brainwashed Count Cartan too. She had already brainwashed
everybody in the Cartan’s residence. Why would she make the head of family an
exception? As much as possible, she had to do something about this man so that she
could return to her master.

“…I-I remember now.”

“Then could you repeat exactly what I said?”

“Of course. You said… ‘Since it has come to this, I imagine it would be more peaceful
for all of us if I freed her myself’.”

Uni had brainwashed him to “Speak the truth when Tullius asks”.

No matter how useless Count Cartan had become, he was still a former court magician
and that was how Uni inherited his abilities and possessed a large amount of magic.
In order to prevent any resistance against the brainwashing, she did not try to make
unreasonable demands like stop having animosity against Tullius, stop being fixated
on your daughter or anything regarding Josephine.

Still, the brainwashing was enough to make him answer this question. If it was not
forcing him to say lies and instead forcing him to say the truth, it was much easier.

Tullius smiled victoriously.

“Exactly. I released her collar because it was the most peaceful option of them all.
Furthermore, this happened during the wedding ceremony. Count Cartan was of equal
rank to the groom, my brother, but was more distinguished because of his long years
of service. Wouldn’t it raise a large ruckus if such a person went around telling
everybody that ‘my daughter was made into a slave’ to everybody during the
ceremony?”

Next, Tullius looked towards Marquis Lavallee who sat behind Count Cartan.

“Right? Surely you would have seen that I was trying to avoid that situation? Marquis
Lavallee, the matchmaker for the wedding ceremony.”

“…Indeed, having a ruckus during the formal wedding ceremony would damage your
brother’s reputation.”

Lavallee spoke with a hint of sarcasm. As the matchmaker and as a high ranking noble
that clearly understands the rules, that was the only answer he could have given to
that question.

Lavallee then glared annoyingly at Cartan who gave Tullius the opportunity to say that.

He probably believed that Cartan had been provoked by the youngster and carelessly
spoke the truth. Had the Count played dumb and said something else, they could have
easily defended against it.

However, that was actually impossible.

Uni made sure of that.

“So the point of contention was whether I admitted that Uni was Miss Anrietta, yes?
Well, forgive me for asking, Count. When did I ever imply that?”

“You… you…! Didn’t you persuade Anrietta with words fitting of a Count’s daughter?
Your way of speaking proves that! You said she could speak to you on an equal level!”

“Exactly. I remember praising you for that and Mr Tullius was nodding then?”

This time, Marquis Lavallee did not leave everything up to Cartan. He added promptly
after Count Cartan.

However, Tullius, Uni’s beloved master, had already predicted this a whole week
before so there was no way he was unprepared for it.

“Eh? Are you sure you aren’t mistaken?”

“Mistaken? What a strange thing you say.”

“I am sure it was a misunderstanding. Your excellency must have misunderstood.”

He did not immediately give a clear answer and vaguely answer to annoy them. In
doing so, he made the whole thing seem less scripted. Just as the judge got impatient
and reached out for his wooden clapper bell…

“Count Cartan! I said ‘Not at all.’ right!?”

“!? Cartan…”

“What about it!?”

Without allowing the Marquis to interrupt, Tullius continued pressing for an answer.

The ringing of the wooden clapper bell followed immediately.

“Plaintiff, what is the point of your question?”

“Before that, just as a precaution, I like to further make clear of my question to Count
Cartan… Count Cartan, his Excellency, the Marquis, complimented me when I spoke to
Uni as an equal. And then, I replied with something along the lines of ‘No, no… Not at
all’. Am I wrong?”

“Yes, you did say that! But what is the point of…”

“…Did you hear that, judge!?”

Tullius looked up towards the judge.

At that instance, Uni could see her master’s face from the side.

A smile filled with confidence and wit. It was the same face he made when they
finished an experiment and got a good result. She has seen that expression many times
before, but no matter how many more times she saw it, she would never tire from it.

The judge nodded.

“Ahh, yes. Count Cartan did say ‘you did say that’. The scribe has recorded that.”

“Thank you very much… As you have heard, I replied to Marquis Lavallee with ‘Not at
all’ to reject it. Towards a Marquis who was an elder and who was the matchmaker for
my brother’s wedding, I tried to be as diplomatic as I could be in voicing my
reluctance.”

And then Tullius looked at Lavallee again.

“Please forgive my poor upbringing if my modesty made the Marquis misunderstand.

Was there a better way I could have put it? I greatly apologise if there was.”

“So in the end, Mr Tullius did not recognise your slave as Miss Anrietta?”

“To prevent any further misunderstandings, I will make it clear and apologise… Not
once have I accepted that as fact.”

The Marquis was irritated at Tuillius’ resolute denial.

“Then why did you change your way of speaking to her?”

“I remember saying this to her then, ‘It is not good to continue speaking like a slave.
Doing so would greatly upset his Excellency’. I was simply ordering her to change her
way of speaking as that would make the Count unhappy.”

“Would anybody ordering their slave sound that formal?”

“I assumed that this situation would remain like that for some time. I mean, Count
Cartan would be really angry if I treated her as a slave? Won’t that make you really
unhappy, Count Cartan?”
“Of course! Would any father be pleased when their daughter is treated as a slave?”

Cartan responded honestly thanks to the brainwashing.

It will only look like a slip of the tongue to a bystander. Marquis Lavallee could not
help but show disdain for Cartan.

Uni looked over at the visitor’s gallery and noticed Linus and his wife. The young
Count was also disappointed with the elder Count’s disgraceful behaviour. He had
rushed the wedding in order to execute the plan. Anybody would be angry that there
were so many big flaws with the plan.

Simone seemed to look interested, though.

“I shall be more careful in pouring oil over the Count’s raging anger. I am deeply
regretful that the Count thought I had acknowledged Uni as Miss Anrietta.”

“Objection. Mr Tullius behaved as though he was complying with Count Cartan. You
even went as much as to bow. Am I wrong, Mr Tullius?”

Lavallee gave up on Cartan and decided to take apart Tullius with his own brains and
tongue. Ah, against this sly old fox, even her wise and great master might have some
difficulties.

“…Hmm, yes I did bow to Count Cartan.”

But,

“Well, shall we have that recorded as well? Count Cartan, did I bow to you then?”

Tullius had to absolutely avoid fighting in the ring presented by Lavallee.

Pick the easy fights, not the difficult ones. That was the way to maximise efficiency.
However, just as he tried to direct the spear towards Cartan, the Marquis obstructed
it without a moment’s delay.

“Count, that is…”

“Your Excellency, I am asking Count Cartan… Judge?”

“Yes. Count Cartan, please express your views on it.”

The Marquis attempt fell short. For the sake of impartiality, he could not allow them
to coordinate their stories.

That was why the judge could not allow the Marquis to hint to the Count of what to
say.

Count Cartan glared at Tullius with bloodshot eyes and spoke.

“You said this. ‘Anybody who submits to your Excellency’s might would naturally go to
such extents.’ You basically agreed on what I claimed so why are you trying to…”

“Yes, exactly! Did everybody hear that?”

Tullius clapped his hands together and gestured around the courthouse exaggeratedly.

“Judge?”

“Yes, I did?”

“What about the judge there?”

“Um, yes. I hear him clearly…”

“What about Your Excellency? Oh, my apologies, surely you heard it loud and clear
since you are sitting beside the Count.”

“…Yes, I heard it too.”

Marquis Lavallee could not bring himself to disagree. If he feigned ignorance now, his
future testimonies would be cast in doubt as he would be suspected of being old and
having a loss in hearing.

Tullius was satisfied at how bitterly the Marquis had to agree with him.

“Yes, I submitted to the ‘might’ of his Excellency. Absolutely not because it was ‘right’.
I am just a Viscount. Creating trouble during my brother’s wedding ceremony would
not be right. I had to show respect to his Excellency, who possesses a higher peerage,
and who was also an esteemed guest of the wedding ceremony. That was why I
bowed.”

“Bullshit! You said you did not mind that I took my daughter back…”

“Did I say that?”

Count Cartan’s enthusiasm petered out.

“N-no you did not say that.”

“Right. All I said was that I will explain to my brother. I did not say I was alright with
you taking her away, nor did I ever say I was ok with it at any point of time. Moreover,
if I had to say, your Excellency…”

Tullius bent over to look more closely at the Count. He definitely had a broad smile
across his face now. Uni was somewhat vexed that she could not enjoy any bit of it.

“…Did I say anything that meant that I acknowledged Uni as Miss Anrietta?”

Cartan’s face became dark red and his forehead throbbing. He had not collapsed in a
stroke yet, but it looked like he might anytime soon. If that happened, the trial would
have to be delayed… and she might die. Uni summed it up dispassionately.

Cartan trembled tremendously as he spoke.

“N-no… You… did… not…”

Yes, not once did Tullius declare that he was letting go of her. The Count was simply
misled by his own interpretation.

…Uni was terribly ashamed that she could not realise that until she spent a full night
thinking about it. Her master had planned to take her back.

“Yes, I never did agree with your claim. I let you bring Uni back because his Excellency
had a higher peerage than me, and because I want to avoid creating a commotion at
all cost. I did, however, plan to seek legal means to take her back later.”

“S-stop playing on words… Did you not open the door for me…!?”

Cartan’s voice started to become hoarse and he seemed to be gasping for breaths.
Tullius did open the door of the parlour room.

“That was for his Excellency, the Marquis… Did I want you to leave? Did I urge you to
take your leave?… Did I say that?”

Tullius doubled down on his questions to Cartan.

All he did that night was to open the door. He did not say, ‘please have a safe trip home’
or ‘let’s return to the ceremony’.

Cartan was too caught up with taking his daughter back and ignored him entirely. The
Count forcefully dragged her out.

You reap what you sow. Uni thought.

“You did not say that but…”

“Objection! Judge, the plaintiff is playing on words and is changing the events that
happened that night!”

Marquis Lavallee could not help but interject. However, Tullius flat out denied the
Marquis the opportunity.

“Objection to the objection! All I am doing is confirming the truth of that night with
Count Cartan. If that is considered a play on words, then I would truly be shocked!”

“Silence!”

The judge rang his wooden clapper bell and warned.

“At the moment, there are no contradictions between the plaintiff’s testimonies and
questionings. Furthermore, the accused has agreed fully with the plaintiff. As such, the
objection that Tullius is playing on words is dismissed.”

“Ugh…”

The Marquis groaned.

Marquis Lavallee, the ringleader of the centralist faction, the notorious schemer
across the entire kingdom had been talked down. The visitors flew into an uproar.
“Plaintiff, do you have more to say?”

“Yes, a final one please.”

Tullius turned to look at Cartan again.

“Count. That night, when you left the reception room where we had our discussion…
who did you bid farewell?”

“M-Marquis Lavallee…”

“What did you say to me? As the representative of the groom’s brother, the second son
of the Oubeniels, did you give the proper formalities to me as you left?”

“No…”

The Count’s reply became as soft as the buzz of a mosquito.

“I did not hear you. Could you please repeat that?”

“…No, I did not!”

“Did everybody hear that!?”

Tullius projected his voice to the entire courthouse. Tullius was now playing a central
role in the trial. The young Viscount cornered both the Count and the Marquis. His
every single move was captured by everybody in the courthouse.

Uni could imagine his back glowing with glory.

(Amazing… master!)

As she smiled with her entire face, Tullius continued his one-sided slaughter.

“Exactly, he did not even bother to exchange farewells before leaving! And he brought
my slave back without my permission! Is this an acceptable course of action for a
noble, even if one was higher in rank and older in age? No, not to any noble and
definitely not to the brother of the organiser of the ceremony. As such, Count Cartan
is unbefitting… of being a noble of the kingdom!”
“Shut up! You slave murderer!”

Cartan furiously shouted.

“How to treat other nobles? Unbefitting!? Would anybody treat somebody like you as
a noble?”

“Please do not get me wrong, Count Cartan.”

Tullius remained calm.

“This trial is the one deciding if you are fit to continue being a noble. Didn’t your wife
sue you because of this? The reason why I am here is because I have been summoned
as a witness. Should I repeat that again? You are the one being sued… Do you
understand the position you are in now?”

It was a question loaded with malice.

However, Cartan was still under the effects of Uni’s brainwashing.

“Whatever!”

All he could do was answer honestly to all questions from Tullius.

Of course, what he said was what he thought of truly. Normally he would be able to
have some self-control but his anger brought forth everything.

“…Huh?… Huh”

He was too late in shutting his own mouth. Everybody was looking at Count Cartan as
coldly as a winter sky. This was the trial which decided his fate and he shouted,
“Whatever”. Could he still call himself a Count?

Marquis Lavallee stared at his underling with murderous intent. Linus was also
looking down at the Count with disdain. Josephine was silent, perhaps because of the
over-effectiveness of the medicine. But she looked as though she was deeply
disappointed with her husband.

The Count, a former court magician, had ruined his reputation completely.
Well, as for Uni… she was good whatsoever. Certainly she was blood related to him,
but she did not think of him as a father. The person who respected and loved her father
was Anrietta. Anrietta died 11 years ago. She was Uni, born 11 years ago. If she had to
call somebody father, then that person would be Tullius. And her mother would have
to be… the alchemy he practiced.

The courthouse fell dead silent. Tullius reinvigorated the courthouse with his crisp
voice.

“As we can all see, that is how the Count behaves. I would like to reaffirm my strong
desire to accuse the Count, with his terrible character, of abducting my slave. By the
way, Count?”

He redirected his gaze back to the Count.

“You said I was a slave murderer?”

“Ahh…”

His response faded midway.

He must be mentally exhausted. Without concerning himself with that, Tullius continued.

“Is it a crime to kill your own slave?”

“It… is not a crime.”

Exactly.

Slaves were legally, just a tool, a property. So long as they belong to you, you can do
whatever you want with them. This was not a law limited to this country, but a
common law between the countries in the Ithuselah continent.

“How about stealing a slave?”

“A crime…”

And that was the truth too. While slaves were tools and property, that did not mean it
was acceptable to rob another’s slave. It was unacceptable to steal a person’s property.
Even a child would be aware of such a logic.
“Enough. Then I believe everybody is fully aware of the situation? That is all from me.”

As he announced grandly, Cartan fell on his knees.

Now that was unexpected. Uni was surprised.

As long as it was something she made, she wanted to show her master. Not just
denouncing Count Cartan for stealing her, but also for his terrible personality. She
knew she had to brainwash the Count to gain an advantageous footing in this trial.
However, Tullius managed to deduce how she brainwashed the Count and made full
use of it.

The second accusation… was a triumph. Far more victorious than she had expected.

―Clap, clap, clap.

A lonely clapping sound was heard.

Marquis Lavallee was the only person clapping.

He no longer glared at the defeated Count Cartan and stared straight at Tullius.

“Wow, you are very eloquent for somebody this young, Viscount. Even this old bones
have to give it to you.”

“Well… it is truly unexpected to be receiving praises from your Excellency.”

“Hehehe, please don’t be humble.”

Marquis Lavallee was being complacent as he sang the praises of his enemy, Tullius.
That was to be expected. At the end of the day, all Tullius did was dealing a blow to
Count Cartan. Whereas the Marquis, at worse, gained a few more gossips. Nothing
more than an itch.

“However, there is hole in your argument.”

“Oh?”

“Are you able to prove that your slave and Miss Anrietta are different people?”
The Marquis spoke with a smile, pretending to be a well-mannered old noble.

Right. For Uni to return to her master, it was not enough to just force Count Cartan to
retreat. As long she was Anrietta Pola Cartan, nothing would change and she would
still be bound to the Count’s family. As long the ‘apparatus’ known as the Cartan family
was present, Lavallee’s plan could still work.

This monster would have no problem manipulating the new head of family. Not to
mention if the new head of family was younger and inexperienced. As long as Marquis
Lavallee declared himself as the guardian of the Cartan family, he could continue as
per normal.

The Marquis would lose nothing, while Tullius would lose Uni.

Still.

“Your Excellency is in such a rush.”

Tullius shrugged his shoulders. Calling this the end was hasty.

“The trial is still ongoing. There is still one more accusation to go through? What was
it…? ‘Lying that the Viscount’s slave is his child to reject returning the Viscount’s slave.
Truly running afoul of the laws of the kingdom’. Am I right, judge?”

“That is not wrong. We still have the indictment.”

“…Shall I present the evidence now?”

“Yes.”

“Oh…?”

Marquis Lavallee smiled in response. A fierce and sadistic smile. The kingdom’s finest
schemer, who brought together the centralist faction, began to slowly reveal his true
nature.

Thinking upon it, this man had conducted himself quietly for the most part of the trial.
He focused exclusively on covering for the Count, and hardly went on the offensive. He
would probably use his trump card soon.
The final accusation was the most important factor considered by both Tullius and
Uni. The entire game could change based on the outcome of it.

“Very well. Please present it.”

“Of course… About her.”

And then he looked over at her. Tullius’ face was always the same. His calm demeanour
was to cover up the boredom in his eyes. And inside those eyes was the trust he had
in her.

“Uni. That is all from me. It is now up to you.”

Ah. She let out a small sigh. A command from her master. The trust he had to leave it
up to her. She felt the bliss of having a weight on her back and fell into a momentary
trance.

Naturally, it was just for a moment. She had no intention to fail as a servant by
appearing idiotic. She paid her respects to her master and bowed.

“…I understand your orders, master.”

The courtroom was thrown into an uproar.

On the plaintiff’s stand, there was a beautiful young woman in a maid outfit. It was
impossible for a mere maid to be present in the High Court, not to mention her
outrageous claim.

—She was a slave, and not the daughter of a count.

It was unprecedented.

It wasn’t as if there hadn’t been cases of commoners claiming that they were
descendents of aristocracy. However, no matter how hard one were to think about it,
it would be beyond unusual to proclaim oneself a slave if they were truly of noble birth.

Truly, such a fool might never be found.

If asked thusly, anyone who had witnessed the trial could only answer in one way.

Anrietta Pola Cartan, or the so-called Uni.

(She really wants to go back to Tullius.)

Simone Meslier Pontauban- now Oubeniel, thought so to herself.

A wish to return, strong enough to cast away the comfortable trappings of noble life.
During the preceding trial, she appeared unmoved, but she clearly held an
extraordinary devotion towards her master, Tullius.

“I don’t understand in the slightest. All this pomp and circumstance, for a mere slave?”
Simone’s husband, Linus, cursed. It seemed that he hated not only his brother, but his
property as well.
Simone could hardly understand his point of view.

Admittedly, Tullius was once feared as a deranged butcher who slaughtered his slaves.
However, at present he was only a young noble who had skillfully managed the
territory entrusted to him by his elder brother. In Simone’s eyes, he had already turned
over a new leaf.

Despite this, Linus claimed that Tullius was only pretending to have changed his ways.
Although he had no evidence, he was sure beyond a doubt that his brother had some
scheme in mind. It was as though it was completely out of the question for him to
consider Tullius reforming.

If something was suspected to be afoot, one could simply request that the High Court
perform an investigation. However, no suspicious details had surfaced in the report
concerning the second son of Oubeniel. His fields were well-cultivated, the hired
bureaucrats were efficiently employed, and the new mine was running smoothly.
Except for some minor issues such as the water distribution in the villages, everything
else seemed the result of administrative perfection.

With this in mind, Simone could only see her reckless husband trying to smear the
innocence of her brother-in-law.

Moreover, he vented his frustrations on an ex-slave. Truly, the height of childishness.

(This man isn’t a good match for me, after all…)

Simone could not help but think to herself.

Certainly, Linus had dignity, education, and ability in spades. Even if only in regard to
his presentation, he could be called handsome. However, he had a tendency to lose
control of his passions, and to meddle in household affairs. These traits, coupled with
an unnatural hatred for his younger brother. Truthfully, he was an exhausting person
to talk to.

(All the better for Tullius.)

Saying her thoughts aloud would only bring trouble, so she held her tongue.

In fact, she saw in Tullius a gentle young man whose appalling notoriety was only a
shadow of the past, who had listened to her grumblings about her newly-wed life in a
relaxed manner. Unconsciously, she had compared him, who had patiently listened to
her selfish story, to his quick-tempered brother. Furthermore, she felt excited that
Tullius was challenging the Marquis, the puppetmaster behind the scenes. All this
drama to reclaim a servant of many years, and a woman at that. Such stories provoked
a certain thrill in a woman’s heart.

She privately thought that she would rather marry Tullius if she had to.

—If she had known Tullius’ true nature and his ongoing plans, all the favourable
impressions she had of him would have quickly vanished.

(I can somewhat understand that girl’s feelings…)

Simone returned her focus to Uni, standing before the court.

Linus and Cartan. Both counts, but significantly different in age. She could not help but
feel sorry for Uni who probably felt like fleeing on the spot.

“What do you think will happen?”

“Hm. Although there is no excuse for Count Cartan’s behavior, just look at Marquis
Lavallee. I wonder how many cards he has up his sleeve. No matter what occurs, I am
sure the proceedings will not turn out the way Sir Tullius desires.”

A husband who looks about to spit fury as he speaks, wholeheartedly looking forward
to his brother’s public disgrace. Simone prayed silently for Tullius, while sighing
internally at Linus.

(O God, Holy King, and Savior of Man… please protect her and Sir Tullius both. Is it not
pitiful for those two to be torn apart by a foul conspiracy?)

Even though she rarely attended religious services, she sincerely prayed alone.

…Alas, she did not know.

The master and servant she prayed for were called devils incarnate by the hundreds
they had slaughtered.

xxx
“My, my. Did Tullius leave everything up to his slave?”

Marquis Lavallee let out a sardonic chuckle.

Wrapped in the Marquis’ malicious intent, it took Uni every ounce of her being to
prevent herself from ripping the count to pieces. Today’s trial was the result of her
being unable to control her emotions that day. If she thought about it that way, she
could be as dispassionate as necessary.

“Can I assume that what you said was an admission that you are not Anrietta Pola
Cartan?”

Marquis Lavallee shrugged.

“No, no, you misunderstand. Only Sir Tullius here calls you a slave. With that
understanding, I spoke in a way that was easier to be understood by you. Please do
not mistake my intentions.”

In short, he was saying that he had adapted to the new facts created by Tullius’
arguments with Count Cartan.

An old-fashioned, but effective provocation.

“Yes. Then, what are your intentions, Marquis?”

“The youngster who was so skilled in rhetoric decided to entrust everything to a

substitute. Naturally, I found it strange.”

“Aren’t your actions more unusual than mine?”

Still seated, Tullius spoke up.

“I mentioned this earlier, but I was called here urgently. Isn’t Madame Josephine the
one who called for this trial? She brought Uni in as a witness, did she not? Therefore,
her testimony should have some worth. And that was why I had her give her account
of what happened. So, let me say this: is there a problem?”

“Is that so? Well then, I see no issue.”

Marquis Lavallee sat back down with a laugh.

At the same time, the presiding judge swung his wooden gavel down.

“Then, the plaintiff. State your appeal.”

“Yes.”

Uni deeply bowed her head and began.

“Before I beginl, I shall introduce myself. My name is Uni. I am a maid, and although I
wear no collar, I am a slave.”

These words shook the audience.

“Slave? Did she say slave?”

“I don’t think so…”

“If that is the truth, then by all means—no, never mind.”

Every time, why was there such a response to her calling herself a slave? Uni always
believed that there could be no unnaturalness or inconvenience in being the slave of
her beloved master.

Uni continued to bite back and suppress her now-familiar irritation.

“One week ago, my master, Tullius Shernan Oubeniel, brought me to the wedding
reception of Linus Strein Oubeniel, his brother. Also attending the reception was Count
Pierre Simon Cartan—"

“Stop, Anrietta… don’t treat me like a stranger…”

Count Cartan’s whisper was naturally disregarded, as it could not even be counted as
an objection.

“—Who I then met for the first time. I was told by the count that I was the child of one
of his former lovers and was judged to be his long-lost daughter.”

“You believe it to be the count’s misunderstanding?”

“Yes, I would like to say that it was mere presumptuousness. –I said several times that
I was a slave named Uni, and not Anrietta Pola Cartan. However, the count was
unmoved, and I was taken to his estate by force.”

Various gazes flitted to the defendant’s seat.

There were no movements made. Count Cartan had no objection, and Marquis
Lavallee continued to glare in her direction.

Uni continued.

“Even after I was relocated to the count’s mansion, there was no change in my
treatment as his child. I was expected to behave as Anrietta should have. Because of
this, until now I have been pretending to play the role of a Count’s daughter. In that
regard, I must present my apologies for conspiring to delude the Count’s family.”

“Oh? Then if you are judged to truly be a slave, wouldn’t you be the lowest kind of filth
who deceived nobility and profited from such a base action?”

The Marquis’ mouth revealed his enjoyment.

However, Tullius interjected.

“Objection. The Marquis is attempting to coerce self-condemnation from the witness,

as well as insinuating that the witness will be in an unfavourable position if the trial
ends in favor of the plaintiff.”

“Objection sustained.”

“Hm… I understand, judge.”

Marquis Lavallee obediently retreated. However, this was no victory for Tullius. From
the beginning, the Marquis had no intention to rush the trial.

“Furthermore, I wish to request that if the Marquis continues under this assumption,
the guilt will be assigned to Count Cartan, who ordered her to pretend to be Miss
Anrietta. Well, as the master of Uni, I might have to bear some responsibilities…
Marlan has enough funds to provide sufficient compensation.”

In other words, it was not a problem because he was prepared to pay.

Reassured by her lord, Uni began to speak once again.

“…I will continue. Madame Josephine was brought here today to serve as witness to
my accusation of the Count’s misdemeanors. As you can see, I am merely a slave taken
under false pretense to be the Count’s daughter. It is up to the court to return me to
my rightful master. I end my accusation here.”

The long statement was finally over.

Uni was originally a young woman of few words; speaking at such lengths was unlike
her. She was relieved to finally have a quick rest, but that was all it proved to be. Her
heart sank when she thought that Marquis Lavallee would soon be called on next.
However, this had all been for the sake of returning to her master. She had no choice
but to grit her teeth and persevere.

“Understood. Then, we shall turn to the defendant for his argument.”

“Ahem. Count Cartan is currently feeling unwell. Might I be permitted to perform a

cross-examination in his stead?”

“Very well. Now then, Marquis Lavallee, as before.”

The Marquis stood to address the court, smiling briefly before beginning.

“Are you sure, Miss Anrietta?”

“Objection. My name is Uni.”

If she had responded, “Yes, what about it?”, she would have fallen into his trap.

Such intricate plans were bread and butter for the practiced schemer, Marquis
Lavallee. After all, his modus operandi was that the means justified the end, no matter
how vile.

“Objection overruled. This hearing is for the purpose of that determination.”

“Understood, judge. My apologies.”

She followed up the judge’s decision with a bow. Although it was aggravating, this
helped facilitate the continuation of a smooth trial. In addition, the Marquis would no
longer be able to use her name as leverage.

Marquis Lavallee continued after a light chuckle.

“Then, I shall continue to address you as Miss Anrietta. Is that acceptable, Miss Anrietta?”

As soon as he was granted tacit permission to continue calling her Anrietta, he

repeatedly attacked her with it. He was a truly disgusting old man. The frustration of
being wrongly addressed should not have appeared on her face, but perhaps his
methods lay in reading her emotions from her words. She would have to be more
careful in her future actions.

For the time being, she assented.

“Very well… Miss Anrietta, when did you first come under the care of Sir Tullius?”

“Eleven years ago, Marquis.”

“It was eleven years ago that Miss Anrietta was lost, and eleven years ago that you
were found. A curious coincidence, don’t you think?”

“I judge it mere chance.”

“The count’s daughter and you both have dark hair and green eyes.”

“Yes. There are many women in Broussonne alone with such characteristics.”

“In addition, it seems you have high magic power. I believe those to be the exact
characteristics we are looking for in a daughter of Count Cartan, who was once a court
magician.”

“I disagree. It is uncommon, but not unheard of for a child of common birth to be in

possession of high magic power.”

Whether a child had high inborn magical capability was dependent on heredity, but
occasionally children were born from common parentage with a mutation that
enabled them to use powerful magic.

The majority of the remodeled slaves were such uncut jewels picked from the markets
by Tullius.
By this argument, it could not be determined that Uni was truly the daughter of Pierre
Simon Cartan on basis of magical power.

“However, there are many features that are shared between you and the Count’s
daughter, and yet you claim to be a completely different person. Could there truly be
such a chance?”

“Because of such coincidences, the Marquis made his mistake.”

The Marquis’ interrogation was slow and relaxed, but like a sinister tide slowly
surrounding her.

He must have been waiting for the golden opportunity to use his trump card to win in
one fell swoop.

“—Then, let’s change the subject.”

The Marquis’ eyes narrowed.

The tension in the room tightened palpably.

“What do you think of Tullius Shernan Oubeniel, your master?”

“I hold great respect and admiration for my only master.”

Uni quickly regretted giving such a hasty response.

Why? Why had he asked such a question at this point in the trial?

“So you respect and admire him even though there are so many terrible rumours
about your master?”

“…!”

It was easy to read the intentions of the laughing Marquis.

He was trying to say that Uni insisted that she was not Anrietta because she loved her
master more than she enjoyed being a countess. While it was not surprising for Uni, it
was unthinkable for the general nobility. So much so that many might mistake the
slave, Uni, and the noble, Anrietta for two different people. Such a line of argument
carried some weight.

This was the true aim of the Marquis.

‘This was all to establish the idea that I would willingly serve my master, whether I am
in truth Uni or Anrietta?!’

The more Uni expressed her loyalty to Tullius, the more she revealed her desire to
serve under him.

What if there was strong evidence that Anrietta was actually Uni?

Regardless of her true identity, the judge might rule that she had was biased to help
Tullius in this trial.

If the trial were to proceed favorably for the Marquis, the audience would begin to see
Anrietta Pola Cartan as a slave who fanatically served Tullius for eleven years.

That was entirely true, unfortunately. After all, Uni was certainly once known as
Anrietta. She saw herself as an entirely different person from the child before her
spiritual collapse and subsequent eleven years of rebirth, but that could only be seen
as a psychological aberration.

Even though she understood this,

“…Yes, Marquis Lavallee.”

Uni gave her affirmation without hesitation.

Any delay on her part only made her situation worse. In short, Marquis Lavallee’s plan
to reveal her motivations was inescapable, as long as Uni was actually Anrietta.

Her best option remaining was to face Lavallee’s onslaught head on and reverse the
situation with her own hands.

“Master is Master, no matter what other people say. If he is vulnerable in any regard, I
know it my duty to support him with all my might.”

“…Ahaha!”
The Marquis laughed heartily. After all, it would be incredibly amusing to him for her
to face him head-on with no defenses to speak of. Did he think she was a fool for being
unable to read the situation, or a fool for charging in anyways? That notwithstanding,
it was a ridiculous laugh.

“A superb loyalty! Even though you are only a woman, it truly makes me happy to see
you youngsters develop so.”

“…I am honored, Marquis.”

“Is it true that Sir Tullius is so worthy of your servitude?”

“Yes, my master is most wonderful—”

Uni said.

If he was willing to hear her platitudes, she was eager to serve them up.

Even if he did not realise it then, he would one day know that a person who loves her
master so would never forgive anybody who obstructed him.

“—and I am happy to serve my lord, no matter if I may die today or the day after.”

…Even if it was by her own hands.

“…Uni.”

She heard Tullius mumbling softly.

She knew he realized exactly what she meant.

This trial depended on the depths of Marquis Lavallee’s cunning, and whether she
could crush him at his full strength.

She had no intention to lose, but in the event that the worst came to the worst… She
reaffirmed her resolve to sacrifice herself if they failed here.

(There is no need to speak, master.)

Uni knew better than anyone else Tullius’ crippling fear of death and burning desire
for immortality. For those reasons, he abhorred conflict and violence. Even if she did
not tell him to do so herself, he would immediately trigger Plan D and escape if she
were to fail in her duty. In tandem with his escape, Uni would take her own life. It was
the plan of last resort, used only in case of irrecoverable defeat. There was no need for
further confirmation.

Even then, she wanted to declare that proudly.

Above all, she wanted him to know that she was content.

She had said what she had wanted to. So, she urged him on.

“…So, Marquis, what is the meaning of your question?”

“A-ha-ha…”

Marquis Lavallee was laughing again. How could she be wondering what he thought
now, of all times?

Uni once again observed that it was an abhorrent and inferior way of laughing.
However, she could not express this due to his elevated peerage. Faced with such a
vulgar display, her desire to tear him limb from limb resurfaced when she thought of
his repeated attempts to stymie her lord.

“Judge, in this woman’s heart, loyalty to Sir Tullius seems to be first above all. I wonder
if this is the result of eleven years of training?”

“Surrogate of the defendant, your statement is irrelevant to this hearing.”

“Not at all, judge, not at all. It appears to me that she has been educated over the course
of eleven years to value Sir Tullius above her own life. That is to say, regardless of
whether she was Anrietta in the first place or just a slave…”

Still laughing all the while, the venomous old fox spun his words into foul nets.

“My desire was merely to show you what kind of person Miss Anrietta here is. Whether
that impacts her credibility is up to your own interpretation.”

“Surrogate of the defendant, do you have witnesses?”

Uni could not believe it. Was there even time for him to prepare witnesses?

This trial was a hurriedly constructed event arranged through her usage of the
brainwashing perfume and Josephine’s connections to the court. There should have
been no time or room for the defendant to prepare.

“Yes. I shall present witnesses that will prove beyond doubt that she is Anrietta.
However, if you misunderstand Miss Anrietta’s personality as that of a liar, you will
surely be surprised by the conclusion. Naturally, I had some investigation performed
in advance.”

Then, he turned his innocently malicious smile on Uni.

“This is a girl who would do anything in her power for Sir Tullius.”

The court was upset once again.

Uni, in contrast, remained unmoved. She knew that the old fox’s aim was to manipulate
her heart. She was ready for anything he threw her way.

The judge once again slammed his gavel down.

“That may only be proven once the witness’ testimony has been examined.”

“Then, may the witness be allowed entrance to the court?”

“Of course. Let them enter.”

At the presiding judge’s signal, one of the aides ran to the defendant’s waiting room.

Uni had a brief premonition.

If one were to think about it, information and its manipulation was the foundation for
Marquis’ Lavallee’s strategy. How did he find about Anrietta? Who told the secret to
the Marquis?

That evening, Madame Josephine saw the spirit of eleven years past in Uni. But was
the ghost truly her?

The door to the court opened.

A woman with a spectral figure and gait entered the courtroom.

“That’s…”

“Impossible!”

Cartan, who had been thoroughly beaten by Tullius, and Josephine, still befuddled by
Uni’s drug, raised their faces at the same time.

Their eyes fixed themselves on the woman entering the court. Her green eyes were
dull with exhaustion, and her face was framed by dark hair turned mostly to gray. Her
skin was rough, thin, and greatly discolored, but still showed traces of what must have
once been peerless beauty. Perhaps, similar to that of Uni’s.

“…She is?”

“Count Cartan here may be able to answer your question better than I.”

Marquis Lavallee answers the judge with a satisfied smirk.

Count Cartan shouted out, as if a switch had been flipped.

“Anna Marie! You were alive, all this time?!”

With tears in her eyes, the woman looked up as if she had forgotten she stood in a court.

Then, something escaped her lips.

If one were as skilled in the art of lip reading as Uni, they could have understood what
the woman said.

“Pierre…”

A dark-haired woman with green eyes who dared call a count by his first name.

Her age was somewhat indistinguishable with the wear from living in base conditions,
but…

It was Anna Marie, as the Count said.

(She was alive…)

Although she thought something had been afoot, Uni could not fully prevent her own
surprise.

The living memory of the tragic day. Madame Josephine employed some men to assault
Anna Marie till she became motionless. After that, Josephine continued venting her
rage on Anrietta.

The shade of Josephine’s grudge against Anrietta was alive.

(She should have stayed dead…)

Perhaps she had only fainted, or gone into a short coma. Such things were not
uncommon in life.

If only she had died on the spot, then she might not have had to suffer as much as her
emaciated figure suggested, but most importantly she would never have stood in the
way of her master.

While staring into her nemesis’ eyes, Anna Marie slowly shambled up to the witness’
stand.

“She… was alive… the mother…”

“Mrs. Josephine.”

Tullius warned Josephine, who had uttered something wholly unnecessary. Perhaps it
had been something about how parents and children always go together. Regardless,
Uni thought once again how lamentable it was that she had been unable to procure
more of the drug.

Marquis Lavallee proudly introduced the woman standing by his side.

“As Count Cartan has said, this is the mother of Miss Anrietta—Anna Marie. Is this not
so, Count Cartan?”

“O-Objection!”

It was Madame Josephine who stood.

“There’s no way this beggar could be that thieving cat, right? —no, couldn’t this be
another surrogate?!”

“It is useless.”

Uni privately thought to herself.

“Objection overruled. First, we must examine the testimony.”

Now she understood the true depth of the Marquis’ scheming.

Earlier, when she had set up a common maid as a witness, the Marquis deliberately
dismissed a heavy objection to her presence, and thus did not have to subject his
witnesses to qualitative scrutiny.

All that, so as to set the stage for his oversized ace in the hole known as Anna Marie.
Her mere presence haunted Josephine with delusions and hatred from the bottom of
her own personal hell.

“Jose… phine…”

“Hii-?!”

“You, oft… often, such things…”

The spirits that cried out in hatred towards the living are rightly called ghosts.

Her voice, forcibly raised, was still quiet. However, once heard, it would stick in the ear
and refused to be forgotten.

Upon hearing her voice, Josephine stumbled into a sitting position after hitting her
calf on her chair. A scene remarkably similar to one in recent memory.

“Return… to me… my, my daughter…”

“Don’t… Don’t come over here!!”

Josephine trembled with her head in her hands as Anna Marie slowly advanced,
leaning over the fence on the witness’ stand.
As soon as the two women began to move, the men in the court stood stock still. Count
Cartan, who had previously been ecstatic over the return of Anna Marie, now
appeared stiff as if coming face-to-face with an apparition. Despite being the person
that brought her here, even Marquis Lavallee appeared dumbfounded by their
actions.The presiding judge also appeared stiff as a board, caught in the act of raising
his gavel.

“Return… that child!”

Return? What did she mean, return? She was Tullius’ property and only Tullius’. She
had no relation anymore to her old family. She was grateful for her parents for giving
birth to her so she may be useful to Tullius, but that did not mean she allowed any
meddling. Obviously, this included anybody who tried to get in her way of reuniting
with her master.

Furthermore, she was the mastermind that planted a bug in Uni. If she was not
perturbed by the keyword, “marriage”, she probably would not have been caught so
deep into the enemy’s trap.

Because of that, she felt frustrated to such a degree.

At that time, a visible anger manifested itself on her face.

“Hey, that’s no good, Uni.”

Freed from the spell of the madwoman in the court, Tullius stood beside Uni, and told
her:

“There’s nothing praiseworthy about looking at her as though she’s trash.”

“Huh?”

Unexpectedly, she felt depressed.

What was her master saying? He should have clearly known that this madwoman,
despite being blood related, was an obstacle to them.

As she steeled herself, Tullius raised his hand high.

“Objection. That witness is in no fit state to provide testimony. Please, allow her to say
her piece or remove her from the court immediately.”

“Y-yes. Order in the court! Witnesses, quiet yourselves and testify!”

The presiding judge banged his gavel, Count Cartan and Marquis Lavallee calmed
themselves, and Anna Marie was pulled back to the witness stand.

Still, however, Anna Marie continued to glare with pure hate and rage towards
Josephine… towards Josephine?

Uni noticed something.

Perhaps Anna Marie…

“…Sir Tullius is an upright young man. How wonderful of you to help calm down our
witness.”

“No, no, this is all for the sake of a smooth trial. I don’t like waste, and this trial has
been too long for my preference.”

Tullius yawned while rubbing of tears of boredom from his left eye.

While this was happening, Anna Marie began her testimony.

“I… Eleven years ago, I was chased out by the family of Pierre—Count Cartan. After
being separated from my daughter… I managed to find shelter in the slums…”

“Were you picked up then by Marquis Lavallee?”

At Tullius’ questioning, Anna Marie nodded quickly.

“So the Marquis must have put you under his ‘protection’ after speaking to you about
the events that happened. No, Marquis Lavallee also had evil intentions. If you had
returned to the Count, surely you wouldn’t have been punished, even if you had
committed some wrongdoing. Right, Count?”

“Yeah… Why didn’t you, Marquis…”

“Ho ho. Well, for one, we all know how repressive Madame Josephine is, and wouldn’t
you agree it would bring you much more happiness if you could be reunited with your
daughter? Well, I did not expect it to be in such a venue, though.”

The thick-skinned Marquis pretended to benignity.

He probably hid the existence of Anna Marie so as to crush any resistance from Tullius.
It was intended to amplify the power of any blow he struck and prevent any further
actions on Tullius’ part. In short, although he reunited the family, he never had any
good intentions to start with.

With Lavallee’s words, Anna Marie began to gain momentum.

“Yes… yes! The Marquis promised me… Anrietta! To let me meet my dear child… and…
that’s today! That I would be able to meet my child here…!”

As she rambled on, a flush spread across her heavily lined and worn cheeks.

Marquis Lavallee smiled to himself, likely convinced of his own victory.

However,

“Where… is Anrietta?”

With those words, her eyes combed through the crowd.

As she looked around the courtroom, her gaze passed through Uni without a second
glance.

“Huh?”

“A, Anna Marie? What are you talking about? Anrietta is…”

The count, his eyes betraying his confusion, questioned her with a shaky voice.

With eyes as wide as saucers, Anna Marie swept the court once again for her daughter,
until she realised that she was nowhere to be found.

“Josephine…!… you… you evil…”

“Huh? What—”

“It’s you… you’re hiding Anrietta…! Tell me… where… where is my child…!?”

“W, what are you talking about? If it’s Anrietta—”

Josephine, being pressured by the woman who she thought was a ghost, spoke without
thinking.

Uni attempted to stop her, but before she could do anything,

“Even if you dress a maid up like her, I won’t be deceived…! The hair… the eyes… no
matter what you change… I’ll never mistake the precious girl I gave birth to… bring
me the real one!”

With a resounding scream of fury, her words echoed in the court.

The judge, Count Cartan, Josephine, and Marquis Lavallee were struck dumb.

Only Tullius and Uni, who knew the truth, remained unfazed.

Tullius shrugged his shoulders.

“—You don’t know who the real Anrietta is.”

“What… did you say?”

Tullius remained calm despite the mounting instability of the madwoman in front of
him. Perhaps he had grown desensitized to emotional outbursts over the course of his
experiments. Opus 4 may have been the primary factor in this; Similarly, Uni knew the
limits of her sanity. If it was for her master, she was willing to do anything, no matter
how repulsive to normal humans.

With a light tap, he rested his hands on Uni’s shoulders.

“This girl here is my Uni. Does she look like your daughter?”

Ah.

She knew she couldn’t do it after all.

Uni could no longer hold back the flood of joy within her heart.

(‘My Uni’, he said. Just like that. He put his hands to my shoulders and claimed them
as his!)

Her stone-cold expression began to crack from the waves of ecstasy within.

Still, all that appeared was a small smile, as any more would be unsightly.

“Is that, truly a slave?”

“The birth mother herself denied it. Not a daughter, at any rate, but even so…”

“…what a detestable smile…”

“Hah…”

Not a single sound from the boisterous courtroom registered with her. The
temperature of his hand on her shoulder, his breath on her hair. The words that fixed
themselves in her mind and bound her to him.

What a wonderful scene it was.

If only it could have lasted a little longer.

Alas, Uni’s hope was short-lived.

“I know it’s not true!”

Uni was forcefully dragged back to reality by the scream.

“My cute little Anrietta… could never grow into such a beauty like that… I know it to
be true… I’m not wrong… I’m her mother, after all…”

“Yes, yes! That’s it, that’s it!”

He slowly took back his hand.

While savoring the lingering sensation of his palms, Uni turned back to her raving
mother.
Even Marquis Lavallee, the instigator of this chaos, was confused by her actions. He
would probably think her spirit had long fled her body, leaving only insanity behind.

What the mastermind didn’t know was that it was not because of the terrible life she
had experienced.

—She was brainwashed.

As Tullius yawned, he kept rubbing his left eye.Yes, his left eye. A primary feature of
her fellow Opus, as well as his own “work”.

‘Hah. You owe me one, Uni.’

A voice resonated within her mind.

It was no hallucination, but magical telepathy.

Plan D, the escape from the capital. The key lay within Drei.

The dark elf woman was also in the capital. While preparing for the execution of Plan
D, she must have searched for Anna Marie, possibly at Tullius’ bequest, and brainwashed
her with the magic eye.

The magic eye acted differently from the incense; it’s efficacy increased with the user’s
magic power. If the chances of side effects occurring in the target were discarded,
orders contrary to the target’s will could be forced into action.

Uni silently gave her thanks to Drei.

‘I was saved by you, Drei. My heartfelt thanks.’

‘Don’t be stiff with me. I help my friends out, you know.’

The connection was cut, and Uni refocused on her surroundings.

“—As you have undoubtedly heard, the mother of Miss Anrietta Pola Cartan has
testified that this girl is not her child. Well, this is all thanks to the Marquis. As you
said, this would clear the question of her identity beyond a doubt, correct?”

Tullius spoke with a pleasant tone.

His happiness could be heard. Once she thought about it, this was the first revenge he
had fully carried out. The satisfaction must have been sweet.

Uni felt just as pleased as he did. The old snake before her was a vile enemy who tried
to tear her master and her apart.

Linus? Merely a bump in the road, not a foe like Lavallee.

The Marquis showed no expression on his aged face. He simply sat and listened to
Tullius speak, though his shaking hands clasped together showed the extent of his
humiliation.

“You must now surely understand! As I have repeatedly said for the past week, and
many more times during this trial, Uni and Anrietta Pola Cartan are completely
different people!”

“Objection! Anna Marie was incensed by the presence of Madame Josephine, and could
not have delivered a sensible testimony in such a state—”

“Oh? You had something to say, Marquis? She was your witness, and you must have
known that this trial was suggested by Madame Josephine, as it said so on the
subpoena. What is the meaning of this, if you brought somebody who could not make
a sane testimony?”

“Tch!”

“I see no wrongdoing in a witness saying something detrimental to the defendant. This

is no show trial for the benefit of an individual, we stand here to uncover the truth
before the eyes of God! As counsel to the plaintiff, I request that the objection be
nullified.”

“Request accepted, objection overruled. Even though the witness has inadvertently
damaged the defendant’s own case, withdrawal of testimony shall not be permitted.”

Marquis Lavallee’s request was quickly denied. However, there were others who
would not sit quietly.

“O-objection!”

It seemed as though Count Cartan had found his second wind upon his reunion with
Anna Marie.

“I, the father, have recognized her as my daughter! Even though the mother may
disagree, the score is still tied!”

However, this statement only hurt his beloved more.

“Pierre… do you not believe me…?”

“Ah, no. Anna Marie, I…”

Count Cartan shrank back at the intense heartbreak and loathing palpably flowing
from Anna Marie.

…Unsightly.

Uni thought immediately upon seeing him cower…

But then again, it was all well in the end. At this rate, she would be saved from this
situation with it ending up as only a minor setback to her master… Efficiency-wise,
brainwashing her mother had been the most effective option. As expected of a follower
influenced by her master’s obsessive efficiency.

She pressed forward. As further insurance against the Central faction, she needed to
twist the knife in the wound.

With that in mind, Uni opened her mouth.

“Then, I shall convince the Count, Miss Anrietta’s father, as well.”

“What?”

With that, the Count’s mouth dropped open. He had not expected Uni to continue and
had been glad that nothing else was yet to come.

From the beginning, Anna Marie’s presence was unexpected. Therefore, it was
unnatural to expect her to have countermeasures set in place.

Uni would use this expectation to her advantage.

“Before we begin, please remove Madame Anna Marie.”

“Do you have a reason?”

“I am going to ask Madame Josephine about the events of eleven years ago.”

The audience looked around at each other. Some knew what had happened on that
fateful day when Anna Marie was driven from the Count’s house. However, few knew
the full extent of what had occurred. Their curiosity was aroused.

Uni turned around. Josephine looked up at Uni as if the end of the world had come. As
for Tullius, he was interested to see what Uni had in store. Of course, it was the latter
that gave her the momentum she needed.

(This time, I shall live up to your expectations.)

Uni gathered herself, then began interrogating Josephine.

“Please stand and describe what you did to Miss Anrietta Pola Cartan.”

“T-that is…”

“This is the perfect opportunity, Madame. If you are planning to secure the future of
the successor, now is the time to find your courage.”

“Y-yes, I understand…”

There was some resistance, but if pressed, she would crack. However, if not hounded
after, she would never speak. Even though she was a strong and brutal woman, she
seemed reluctant to confess her role in that vile event.

Thusly, Madame Josephine began to speak. It was a long confession, interrupted by

short pauses and halts.

It was a record of foulest sin, a monster who repeatedly crushed the face of a six-year-
old girl, then distorted the bones so they would never heal straight.

Count Cartan, in all his wildest dreams, had never imagined his wife capable of such a
thing. Anna Marie, who had in the end stayed in the court, grew more and more
frenzied with each passing word. In contrast, the Marquis listened quietly.
Uni felt nothing. She had little connection to Anrietta’s memories anymore. However,
she thought the sight of the grieving Anna Marie slightly pitiful.

“That… is all.”

After finishing her speech, Josephine appeared haggard. She had announced her
crimes to the world. Her complexion appeared little different from that of Anna Marie.

“Thank you, Madame.”

“You… how could you listen to such a thing so calmly?”

“What are you talking about? I am Uni, not Miss Anrietta. I have no compassion toward
someone I merely mimicked.”

“What does this mean, in regard to the trial?”

“You will soon understand.”

Uni turned once again to the defendant’s seat.

“Now, what did you think of the story?”

“In my opinion, you increasingly appear to be Miss Anrietta.”

Lavallee spoke warily.

“I heard that you were heavily injured when you were bought by Sir Tullius eleven
years ago.”

“Yes, you are correct.”

To the Marquis, he cannot help but see this as being to Uni’s disadvantage. It was a
well-known fact at the House of Oubeniel that Uni’s face had been crushed. It could be
heard from Linus, or from the servants who remember that occasion. And because
they remembered so well, Marquis Lavallee used it in his scheme.

“Both had facial injuries, a sure sign to me.”

“Incorrect.”
Uni immediately denies the Marquis.

“Did you forget, Marquis? Miss Anrietta’s face was magically healed so that it could
never be returned to its original shape.”

“That—”

A tinge of frustration clouds the old Marquis’ face.

Uni strikes up once again, spinning her narrative.

“Those here that have experienced military service will know that recovery magic is
inalterable. If a fracture is hastily mended without regard for its original shape, the
bone will heal crooked. Once this occurs, the bone can no longer be restored. However,
a cure was recently discovered in Sankt Gallen.”

“Oh, I’m the one who published that paper. Incidentally, the first successful case was a
student injured in a duel by me.”

Tullius offered his opinion airily.

“Thank you, master. By the way, master, how old were you eleven years ago, if you do
not mind my inquiring?”

“I’m nineteen now, so I was eight then.”

“I have bothered you again, master. My apologies. Well then, my lord may be a skilled
alchemist now, but could he have possibly carried out such a treatment at the age of
eight?”

In truth, that operation was entirely successful. That’s why Uni was standing here
today. No one in their right mind would believe an eight-year-old capable of such a
feat. Even in the House of Oubeniel, no one could have accurately diagnosed the depth
of her injuries at that time.

The only exception was the knight assigned to Tullius’ side when he first purchased
her, but he no longer stood amongst the living. When he was named in the
investigation over the matter of succession, the lord gifted him a bottle of alcohol that
allowed its drinkers to truly find heaven, so he must have been happy.
“In other words, not even my lord could have healed such a wound when he was only
eight.”

“…If it was Tullius, I wouldn’t be surprised. He did write the paper, after all.”

Marquis Lavallee was surely caught. Of course, there were many possible
counterarguments.

“This is but an auxiliary argument, Marquis. I was my lord’s first servant. Before I,
there were no human experimental subjects.”

In truth, the operation had been designed after trials on captive mice. Even so, the
lord’s talent for medicinal and biological alchemy was so great that he had no need for
human subjects before the first application.

Marquis Lavallee already knew that. He had been careful to have the slave market
records checked during his investigations.

In those records, there was no evidence that Uni was Anrietta. Records of identity
were rarely kept for slaves purchasable by even children. The record of sale remained,
but no one had bothered to learn who the slave had been.

“If you still have doubts, there should be a magical expert here. Why not ask them?”

“Ah! Yes. That way, we can stop this farce.”

Immediately understanding her intention, the lord stood up. Turning to him, Tullius
asked his question.

“I would like to ask you. As a former court magician, Count Pierre Simon Cartan, could
you please deign to answer whether an eight-year-old child could perform such a feat?
Please, bequeath your knowledge as a renowned mage!”

Pierre Simon Cartan had gained his current station through his dedication to the
magical arts and mastery of the arcane. In terms of expert witnesses, there were none
more qualified than he.

And, by his account,

“Impossible. It would be meaningless to even think of it.”

Count Cartan answered truthfully.

“Thank you for your valuable testimony.”

“Gah!”

The count realized what he had said and turned his face to the side.

The count must surely wonder why she was so apparently light-hearted, although she
was barely repressing her churning emotions.

However, they were nearly done.

Uni bowed deeply to the presiding judge.

“What transpired previously has been my evidence. It was the statement of the
defendant himself, and I take great pride in its credibility.”

“Understood. Then, I shall recognize the usefulness of this evidence.”

Then, the wooden gavel sounded once again.

The final sound to mark the close of an eleven-year journey.

In tandem with the crack of wood, Count Cartan fell to his knees. He appeared to have
lost all energy and was unable to reseat himself. A hollow shell of a man, broken by
the lost chance to regain a daughter. His wax-like countenance was feverishly flushed
with blood.

“Then, we shall move to the verdict.”

The trial ended with a resounding victory for the plaintiff.

Witness to the plaintiff Madame Josephine was separately accused of a previous crime
from eleven years ago and was to be transferred for a separate trial. Count Pierre
Simon Cartan resigned his peerage, and his son inherited both titles and estates. All in
all, a complete success.
As Uni was recognized as a separate entity from Anrietta Pola Cartan, she returned
happily to slavery. Her values were incomprehensible to others, and perhaps it was all
well and good that Simone did not know of them. Although a woman of not yet twenty,
she was a slave, and pleased with the massive upset delivered to Marquis Lavallee.

“Shit, that old bastard, what was he thinking?!”

Linus fumed without hiding his frustration. Though he did exhibit some self-control
by doing so softly. Even so, the incredibly pissed off face he made as though he cursed
the entire world after Tullius’ side won did draw some attention from the others he
passed by while on the way home.

“I must say, Count Cartan’s showing was disgraceful, to say the least.”

“Indeed. Does he hold no respect for the rules of the kingdom? To think he was
considered an accomplished person.”

“Also, it seems Marquis Lavallee was no match for his own reputation.”

Crack.

Linus’ teeth ground together audibly.

“I-I misspoke. Were you listening too, my lord?”

“No, my ears become incredibly irritating when hearing about the ruckus my brother
caused.”

Leaving the audience behind in their awkward laughter, Linus walked away after
giving minimum acknowledgements.

(In the end, it is more than just about hating his brother, huh.)

Simone seemed to have understood him. One could always tell when the root of Linus’
vexation came from his inferiority complex towards Tullius.

For that reason alone, he had joined the Central Faction and surrendered himself to
Marquis Lavallee’s schemes… If he had not done so, he should have been able to live
an easy life by ignoring what his brother was doing.
If she advised him like this, he would surely reply with, “Much easier with him dead!”.

What an irksome personality.

She had to live until her dying days with or divorce such a man, and the thought alone
depressed her greatly. To distract herself, she looked towards the court again. Marquis
Lavallee had left immediately, after all was said and done. Perhaps, they were only
seeing the first stages of his master plan. It seemed the old man will never be tired of
scheming.

Count Cartan was leaving with an unsteady gait. As a noble, he would be unable to
show himself in public as long as his scandal was remembered. Would he give up and
go to Lavallee, or visit Anna Marie? Nobody knew.

Josephine was half-carried away by a legal attache, face as pale as death. Perhaps she
would be under house arrest until her next trial.

Tullius and Uni, however,

“Uni, it’s alright. Raise your head.”

“No. Because of my foolishness, I have greatly inconvenienced you.”

“And I’m saying, because you’ve been such an inconvenience, stand up already!”

As one could see, Tullius was trying to pull an uncooperative Uni up off the floor. It
was a behavior unbefitting of the two incredible actors who performed at the trial. At
this ridiculous sight, Simone broke into an unexpected smile.

“…I am deeply grateful for your help. However, there is much more I have yet to atone
for.”

“Don’t be stupid. You’re fine, Uni.”

(Well, at least he has his favorite tea-brewing girl back.)

Simone thought to herself while leaning on the fence of the audience section.

Tullius had scolded her while enduring a bitter taste from the tea before the trial. It
seemed to her that his face, seen through the steam, had been waiting for her return.
In the end, his wish came true. Simone secretly hoped that someday, she would have
someone that devoted to her. At the least, she was happy that she had made a
difference in their story so far.

As he looked down at her, Tullius took out something from his pocket.

A new collar.

A new collar, to replace the one lost a week ago. He gave it to her, and she immediately
went to put it on.

“I’ve bent over backwards to recover you. You wouldn’t think I will let you go this easily
right?.”

“Yes, master. Unexpectedly so.”

“If you get it, raise your head.”

“Yes, but before that…”

She kneeled down.

“Can you swear me into your slavery once more? I don’t ever want to lose this again.”

“That’s fine by me, but… Alright, I’ll do it quickly.”

“Thank you, master. Then…”

With her lord’s permission, Uni uttered her oath.

“Your slave Uni will never refuse to offer herself, never flee, never fail to protect, never
cease to serve… May my lord accept my solemn vow as the foundation for this eternal
servitude.”

It wasn’t a loud voice, but for some reason her words were carried on the air to
Simone.

A worshipping figure, hands clasped, and eyelashes closed demurely.

It reminded her of a nun, lost in prayer.

“Very well. I shall receive your oath.”

In accordance with his acceptance, Tullius presented his left hand, palm facing the
earth.

As agreed, Uni kissed the back of his hand. With that, a silver ring was locked around
her neck, shut fast as if to protect that kiss.

Click.

The sound of the collar snapping shut was the epilogue to the drama of the week past.

Simone thought that the ritual had been unusually smooth, despite being held in a
courtroom after the conclusion of the trial. Was it because it seemed so natural to the
two parties involved? To her, it seemed like it had been the next obvious step for him.

“Like a wedding…”

Uni glanced away from her master’s fingertips and stroked the collar, looking like a
lovestruck bride drunk on her own happiness.

“Insanity. What kind of ‘holy court’ is this?”

Linus whispered indignantly…

To Simone, he was the man who shattered her image of a sacred wedding.

While both mildly shocked and slightly envious, she raised her left hand.

Shining on the ring finger was a band of platinum.

Platinum versus silver. Ring versus collar. Brother versus brother. Bride versus slave.

Two women connected to the same house by different colors in similar shapes, yet
worlds apart.
----Which one was truly happy?

Upon realizing the futility of her question, Simone sighed yet again.

The woman returned home with her master, sporting a shining new collar.

“To my embarrassment, I announce my return.”

“Hello there. Welcome home, Feudal Lord and Chief Maid.”

Laubert called out with a smile.

Due, in turn said:

“…Yeah.”

With such an unmotivated reply, it was hard to appear honest.

Tullius raised an eyebrow in suspicion at Due’s lackluster greeting.

“You’ve got a pretty weird face there, Due. Is it so strange that Uni came back?”

“That’s right. After all, you’re the one who’s strange in the head.”

“Don’t say such rude things…”

While saying that, Tullius relaxed on a nearby sofa. He seemed much relieved after the
events of the previous week.

The root cause of the matter prepared a cup of herbal tea without orders and set a cup
down before her master.

“After all the trouble, I chose chamomile for relaxation.”

“Thanks, Uni. Yeah, it’s gotta be you after all.”

“Your words are more than I deserve…”

Due sighed briefly at their antics.

In Due’s mind, there was something he was still mulling over. Tullius stated that the
probability of Uni’s return was eighty percent, but how on earth did he even come up
with that estimate. When he thought about it like that, he wasn’t completely satisfied.

“Hey, Master. How long have you been planning for this?”

“I was ninety percent sure of this specific outcome when Drei contacted me saying
that Marquis Lavallee had Anna Marie in his possession.”

It was an unexpected answer.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me…”

The corner of his mouth twitched.

There’s no way. Did he think such a crazy event would occur from the beginning? It
wasn’t impossible, but he still couldn’t believe it.

“You think I’m lying? Because Drei took full advantage of the teleportation network
and quickly came to the capital, I thought she could afford to spend some time on
activities other than Plan D preparations. I suddenly realized that I had enough free
time to check out Marquis Lavallee, and when I thought back to the beginning I came
up with this eventuality.”

“Sir, Mr. Due is still at the previous step. To me, it is strange that the Chief Maid was
able to hold her own without guidance.”

Laubert muttered crossways.

“I’m curious about that too.”

“That’s completely out of question isn’t it.”

Tullius noted while letting the steam from the tea mist his face.

“I’ve known her for eleven years. I of all people should know she was capable of that
much.”

It was a natural response, but did he understand it’s true gravity?

For her lord, she abandoned her father, mother, and half-brother, and joined hands
with the enemy of her mother.

Wasn’t it too arrogant to assume so much?

Due wanted to say so but found himself unable.

The girl actually did it. She verbally beat her father into submission, didn’t blink an
eye when confronted by her insane mother, and happily rejoined her lord.

Tullius continued without minding Due, whose words were still stuck in his throat.

“While I was looking into the nobles of this land, I found out a few things on ex-lovers
and mistresses and such. I brought that information to the wedding, just in case any
noble made trouble. I said what I did to Count Cartan because I didn’t want him to take
offense.”

Tilting his cup, he moistened his lips.

“Of course, Uni noticed my unnatural behavior. We’ve been together for eleven years.
Since I knew that, I asked that the wife be brought to the trial. Uni was intelligent
enough to predict my actions in accordance.”

In terms of combat, Uni outperformed even a remodeled Due. She was also a master
in spying, an excellent magician, and an experienced alchemist. Escaping the
residence, concocting the medicine, and finding a few servants that had been laid off
were child’s play to her.

After all, with the brainwashing perfume it was a simple matter to collect the
necessary information.

“I see. Well, nothing to be done about it.”

“…Right?”

After all, he had to make himself look as competent as Laubert.

“Then, did you feel at all reluctant in handing the Chief Maid over to Count Cartan in
order to gain time for concocting your plans? Well, you started preparing the fake
evidence for the trial only after that.”

“Swindling is for villains. It’s not the same. If I didn’t resist, I’d look suspicious. It’s as
simple as that.”

“I’m impressed. You thought all that out in such a short time.”

“Wasn’t there enough time? When Count Cartan insisted that Uni was his daughter, I
knew the trap had sprung. The Count had both peerage and the moral right to take her
back. So, I gave in, listened to the Count’s story, and thought up counterpoints for it.
Wasn’t that the right way to go about things?”

“You’re insane, you know that. You’re even more of a schemer than that Marquis.”

Tullius shook his head with an ironic smile.

“Don’t make jokes like that. You come up with a counterattack at the last second, or
you come up with a limited plan because your opponent is hiding their cards under
the table. If you don’t do it right, it all falls apart.”

Even his humility was galling. The Marquis was about to win when he was pulled down
in an instant by Tullius from nowhere.

“If anything, they’re sure to be more vigilant now. From now on, I’m going to have to
get serious and think up my own strategies.”

That was his way, after all.

The parties based in the kingdom’s capital had been unsuccessful in sending spies to
Marlan, so they had finally decided to brush away the insect buzzing around their ears.
However, this time the insect stabbed back with a poisoned sting.

The aristocrats stung by Tullius’ counterattack would strike with full force next time.

“I’m sorry. This was all my fault—”

Tullius waved his hand with a bitter smile, trying to stop Uni from prostrating herself.
Perhaps it had been that way all the way back from the capital.
“I’m telling you, it’s fine. Do I need to bow down again to get you to stand? At any rate,
it was a good thing that the Marquis was publicly defeated. Instead, know that you did
well in this.”

With that, he stroked her head with his hand.

“Master…”

“You’re all right. Good child, good child.”

The lord joked lightly with a smile, his servant accepting it with a slight squint.

A psychopath who murdered countless slaves and aimed to overtake his brother, and
a cursed woman who shed blood on his behalf and cut down her own family for his
sake.

Due shook his head once again, amazed by the twisted pair before him.

“Honestly… most importantly, is that you look happy.”

The slave responded to his sarcastic words by straightening her profile, holding back
an acidic tongue.

She still smiled, however.

“That’s great.”

That smile was as innocent as a little girl’s, but at the same time a flimsy cover on an
unimaginable abyss.

“I’m the happiest woman in the world right now, after all.”
The day began poorly for Marquis Lavallee.

“How pitiful that such a thing has happened, Your Excellency.”

“Indeed, indeed. Dissent amongst the people is growing. Now is the most opportune
time to accuse the land-holding lords of misgovernance. Yet sadly, this…”

“Why would you intervene in the affairs of a newcomer of our faction?”

The guests inside the Marquis’ lounge were taking their turns reprimanding the
Marquis for his failure. On the table, their cups of tea had long gone cold.

This was a meeting between the nobles which belonged to upper echelons of the
centralist faction. Their conversation revolved around the judgement made the day
before— that the alleged illegitimate child of Count Cartan was, in truth, only a slave.

Everything had begun when Lavallee helped Count Linus Oubeniel in coming up with
a plan.

Tullius, Linus’ brother, was a social outcast whose unbecoming behaviours ranged
from an irrational devotion to alchemy to the senseless murder of many slaves. In
order to put his actions in check and censure him, the Marquis had concocted a plan
to capture his closest female aide. In a stroke of luck, he had taken into custody Count
Cartan’s ex-mistress, Anna Marie, as Lavallee thought then that she may one day be
useful for a ploy. Through her, he came to learn that Tullius’ female slave was her
daughter. Unfortunately, the trial had ended in a way beyond any of their expectations.

Count Cartan was found guilty of lusting over the female slave’s beauty and falsely
claiming her as his child. As a result, he had been forced to give up his title.

Despite his high ranking, the Marquis was now faced with the risk of being overthrown
by newer and lower ranked nobles.
All those gathered today were pressuring him to take full responsibility for the
incident.

One of the nobles took a sip of tea and commented.

“Well, helping Count Oubeniel was not an issue by itself. The larger problem was the
public failure.”

“Agreed!”

Another stood up and exclaimed, joining the conversation.

“Especially in that the Marquis’ scheming led to the Count’s humiliation!”

“…Strange.”

Lavallee broke his silence with a smile.

The flames of hatred seared his stomach, but the Marquis kept his calm. Any form of
agitation he showed could be used against him, the leader of the faction.

“I do not remember in the slightest ever trying to smear Count Cartan’s name.
Shouldn’t the court’s decision be the full responsibility of the Count himself?”

“Stop making excuses!”

“Haha…”

It looked like he was trying to shift the blame away. In truth, his aim was to remove it
entirely.

The person who replied with such vehemence was Count Mearbahn. He was a high
ranking noble in his prime, and he surely coveted the position of the aging Marquis.

Still, the Marquis would not be as feared as he was if he allowed a small mistake to
hold him back.

“In the first place, everybody in the faction should be taking responsibility for what
has happened to Count Cartan. I told the Count that I had found somebody that might
have been his long lost daughter. Little did I know that she would end up as the slave
the Count had fallen in love with.”

“So you are saying, the full responsibility lies with the Count?”

Count Langoune spoke scornfully. He was a young and proud aristocrat in his mid-
thirties. He and Count Mearbahn were similar in that they had risen in the ranks due
to their incessant hard work. Because of this similarity, they had decided to actively
work against the Marquis.

“Am I incorrect in saying so?”

“You--”

Everybody could not help but be annoyed at Lavallee’s obvious attempt to shift
responsibility. However, Lavallee continued.

“…Gentlemen, do you not find it shameful? That one of our respected comrades
concealed such depravity.”

“Well--”

“Gentlemen, in order to not repeat Count Cartan’s mistake, we must work harder and
pay closer attention. Agreed?”

Among the people present, there were some who stiffened at his words.

There were many members in the centralist faction that put in lots of effort to get to
where they were at the moment. Among them, how many were truly honest and
incorruptible? As the leader of the faction, his warning that he would no longer
tolerate any further misbehaviour carried a great weight.

“Hahaha. Such harsh words.”

Count Langoune had completely reversed his position. He was one of the youngest
present which meant that he had great ambition as well as great sexual desires. In fact,
Lavallee was well aware of the lowborn mistresses he kept secret from his wife.

“…Your Excellency, surely, you must be joking. As the guardians of the royalty, there is
no way —”
Count Mearbahn appeared as angry as before, but his previously sharp tongue seemed
to have been dulled.

Unlike Count Langoune, he was over the age of fifty. He was not at an age where he
could be surrounded by mistresses, but there were times when he would visit
expensive prostitutes in the red-light district.

Lavallee himself was involved in sexual relationships that were unheard of for a
person of his age, but nobody dared to call attention to them, as they feared retaliation
for stirring up trouble.

Most importantly, everyone knew that this old fox was the only person who knew
everybody’s secrets. Once they turned their backs or revealed an opening, he would
immediately take action and trap them in his plots.

Especially since all the nobles were on heightened alert after Count Cartan’s trial. For
a schemer of Lavallee’s caliber, it was entirely possible for him to take down a few
well-known nobles.

“Ah, it is as the Marquis says. With this recent dishonour befalling our faction, we must
take great care to not tarnish our image.”

Count Chambrey, sitting by the side of Lavallee, chimed in with a smirk. He was a
shrewd fellow who had switched sides from the decentralist faction and was quickly
climbing the ranks in the centralist faction.

Either he believed that supporting Lavallee was advantageous at the moment, or he

was trying to get the Marquis to owe him a favor. In any case, either option was always
a tactically sound choice.

“Yes, but--”

“If you don’t want to join the peasants at the borders, then it is time to steel
yourselves.”

Reading between the lines, Chambrey was announcing his support for the Marquis.

(…I can’t relax yet.)

Lavallee resisted the urge to sigh from everybody looking at him.

They called themselves loyal subjects of the royalty, but they were nothing more than
a group of opportunists maximising their own gains. Many of them only clung onto the
authority of the royalty in order to compensate for their small territories. Chambrey,
the turncoat, was a good example.

If Lavallee, the person holding the mantle of leadership, showed weakness in any way,
there would be people trying to steal this position of power.

And now, their faces all showed the same sentiment:

―It was too early.

It was not a bad idea to use this opening to further their advantages, but Lavallee still
had sufficient capability and resources to keep everybody in check. Hence, being
impatient here would be highly unfavorable

Lavallee could easily tell what they were thinking.

(…Hmph. It’s too easy to read these fools.)

For Lavallee, it was only at the level of a minor annoyance. The wound inflicted by this
setback was hardly deep enough to be fatal, and optimistically, only a small scrape.
Still, he had not expected that trying to draw Count Oubeniel into the faction
immediately after his succession would be akin to playing with fire.

For now, he would have to suppress the nobles in his faction who were plotting against
him.

The centralist faction was not monolithic in nature. There was a sub-faction of
hardliners, led by Mearbahn and Langoune, who were quickly consolidating power.
Chambrey, on the other hand, was a boot-licking bat. In addition, he could not predict
how Linus Oubuniel, uninvited to the conference for obvious reasons, would react in
this situation. Moreover, there were radicals who were not adept in political scheming
but had significant military might and would not hesitate to start an armed dispute.
Lavallee had to repair these fractures as soon as possible to prevent those people from
leaving his sphere of control.

(You fools might think it’s too early. However, the truth is that all you idiots are far too
late.)
Castles were never built in a day. This also applied to the centralist faction that
Lavallee had built over the years. Count Mearbahn was still wetting his bed when the
Marquis first started consolidating his faction and deceiving the ignorant elites who
gained power through inheritance. After nearly half a century, he had finally brought
his country to its current prominence.

Yes, everything he had done was for the sake of this country’s future, he thought to
himself…

50 years ago, there had been a great war.

It happened on the far borders, in a land called Alpes Roune, known by locals as
Erebus Rohtlehrgen. It was a war fought between the Kingdom of Arquell and the
Federation of Sankt Gallen over the vast mineral riches lying unclaimed in the earth
there.

Due to frequent disputes between the countries, the borders in that area had become
vaguely defined around the foothills. Sankt Gallen had planned to formalise their
direct control over the area and built a fortress on their side. This became the impetus
for the war, in which a certain noble participated.

The third son of a Marquis, George Lavallee. Known presently as the one and only
Marquis Lavallee.

Back in those days, he harbored great ambitions and believed fervently in the values
of chivalry. He aimed to distinguish himself in war as well as to repel the barbarians
from the east. Joining up with his elder brother’s army, he envisioned himself
returning home crowned in glorious victory.

He was not being overly optimistic. In fact, prevailing sentiment at the time was that
the Kingdom was likely to win. The provocative act from Sankt Gallen was initiated by
an overly ambitious Count guarding the border, and it was plain as day that it was an
impulsive decision without complete preparation. When the imperial court in
Broussonne issued a war decree, the ambassador from the Federation hurriedly sent
an apology only to be made into a laughing-stock by court officials.

Everyone in the Kingdom strongly believed that the enemy’s armies were full of weak
recruits in comparison to the Kingdom’s elite, hardened soldiers ready to defeat the
aggressors.

However, their expectations for victory were mercilessly crushed underfoot.

It became the largest defeat in history for the Kingdom of Arquell.

As a result of the Kingdom being slow to mobilize, Sankt Gallen, who were at a
numerical disadvantage, decided to carry out a preemptive night assault. By some
whim of fate, the surprise attackers managed to sneak past patrols and land a direct
hit on the Arquellian camp.

In an unfortunate coincidence, a war council consisting of high-ranking nobles was in

the middle of a meeting in the camp. The Arquellian soldiers were confused and
disoriented by the unexpected attack, and the desperate invaders fought fiercely. They
were too complacent and now, they paid the price for bringing internal politics onto
the battlefield.

All the commanders were killed, and the Kingdom’s armies were left without
experienced leadership. Unable to retaliate, the Kingdom’s troops were forced into a
rout, with the Federation in hot pursuit.

According to an observing military advisor from the neighbouring Kingdom of

Marbhea, the Kingdom of Arquell was little more than fish in a barrel at Alpes Roune.
Their officers were giving directions to the Arquellian army and inadvertently got
caught in the crossfire. The officer in question had given his statement as he was being
treated for a torn tendon at a field hospital.

In the end, they had to sign a humiliating peace treaty and erase Alpes Roune from
their kingdom’s map. This led to the end of many years of vague border lines in the
area. Conversely, the border-counts from the Sankt Gallen Federation regained half of
the western territories. However, the losses sustained in this war by the Kingdom of
Arquell were not limited to territory. Many nobles who took part in the campaign,
including the high-ranking nobles that went to the front lines either died or lost their
heirs. Naturally, there were voices advocating a campaign in revenge, but who would
lead the war of reclamation? Thusly began the political infighting for leadership.

Having had his brother die right before his eyes and suffering grievous wounds in
battle, Lavallee returned to his country only to witness such meaningless bickering.

Many of their leaders were greedily wringing the land dry and enriching only
themselves. However, they failed to realise the dangers of their decisions and fought
each other for personal gain.

The young Lavallee wondered how they could be so blind. The Federation could still
use the momentum generated in the surprise attack and strike west into Broussonne.
There was also the possibility that the cunning Marbheans might take advantage of
the situation and snatch away yet more territory from the failing Kingdom of Arquell.

In the end, Sankt Gallen feared that pushing further into Arquell would leave their rear
lines unguarded and stripped the border count that acted without orders of his title.
Marbhea wanted to maintain a balance of power in the region and decided to facilitate
peace talks. Even so, these events were the silver lining. Not only did they lose Alpes
Roune, the kingdom had to pay war reparations.

On the other hand, the nobles that did not go into frontlines were only concerned with
their own positions and safety.

If nothing was done, the kingdom would be swallowed by infighting and intrigue.

With this in mind, George Henry Lavallee was reborn from a mere noble scion into a
loyal patriot. Or, as some would say, a brilliant strategist and unparalleled schemer.

He began with setting up his second elder brother and the fourth son, his younger
brother. The original successor of his father, his eldest brother, died in battle. The
fourth son intended to take advantage of the situation and murder their father’s
successor, he told the second son. He carefully pretended to be in pain over his war
injuries and convinced his second elder brother to kill the fourth son. As soon as the
deed was done, he immediately reported it to his father with witnesses in tow. He told
him that the second son had sinister ambitions and murdered the fourth son who was
born from the first wife. The very next day, his father ordered his second son to kill
himself in order to preserve the outward appearance of the family.

As planned, George became the next successor of the Lavallee family. Henceforth, with
the authority of his rank and all the energy of youth, he worked to improve the internal
system of the kingdom.

He never took important positions such as prime minister or any other high-profile
role. He preferred to help others into those appointments and gain their favour so that
he remained outside the spotlight. He exercised his talents to their fullest extent
behind the curtains and implemented many new policies, including expanding the
royal guards, strengthening diplomatic relations with the religious authority in the
region, the Omnian Empire, redeveloping the western borders, and strengthening the
forts on their eastern borders. He even established the system that allowed children
to study in Sankt Gallen, their sworn enemy, under the guise of reconciliations. At the
same time, he eliminated domestically influential nobles and built up the centralist
faction.

Everything he did was for the future of the kingdom. For his glorious motherland, his
beautiful country… It was all to ensure everlasting prosperity for the Kingdom of
Arquell, the land of art and beauty.

After a momentary pause to reflect, Marquis Lavallee returned to reality. The meeting
of the centralist faction was still ongoing.

(How clumsy of me. Could it be my age… To think that even I would be lost in pointless
thoughts.)

Naturally, he hid all his emotions. He could not afford to appear to be in a decline or
the fools here would force him into submission.

“Very well, then. Shall we skip the chat over tea and move on to the main subject?”

The nobles stirred slightly. It was because Lavallee considered their relentless
criticism as merely a “chat over tea”. Surely, the members who wanted to take the
opportunity to bring Lavallee down would be in objection, but the old man still had
enough authority to do as he wished.

They could only listen to the so-called main subject that Lavallee spoke of. Pleased
with the nobles’ reactions, Lavallee continued.

“It is about Tullius Oubeniel, the Viscount that cornered the previous Count Cartan in
yesterday’s trial…”

“Cornered Count Cartan?”

Count Langoune interrupted. He was implicitly hinting that there was another person
who had been on the back foot. Lavallee paid him no heed and resumed speaking.
“…that young man is unfortunately maligned by rumor, but he does appear to be a
person of gift. He also showed a remarkable talent when he spoke in court…”

“Deceitful speech is a talent for the ‘slave murderer’?”

Count Mearbahn’s scorn was obvious. It seemed like he was trying to demean Tullius
so as to vent his frustrations over how Lavallee dismissed his failure.

“Also…”

A viscount spoke out from the lowest seat.

“I heard he has started operations on the copper mine in his territory?”

“Oh? And he only started governing the area last year?”

Count Chambrey quickly caught on. As expected of a greedy person, he was weak to
money. Lavallee snickered to himself. Rather than calling him a bat, it might have been
more appropriate to describe him as a moth drawn to the flame.

“Indeed. His achievements do not correspond to his age in the slightest. I learned of
this previously and sent investigators. Here, take a look at this report.”

He placed the documents on the table for the nobles to inspect.

“Oh? This is!”

“T-This harvest of wheat… even though the area had difficulties paying the annual
tribute? Immediately after the Viscount started governing the region?”

“Public safety also improved drastically, I see. Marquis Lavallee, surely this is a joke on
your part?”

An overly dramatic but predictable reaction. Marquis Lavallee chuckled.

“No, these are the actual findings from the investigation. These were made possible by
pulling some strings with my friends in the royal court and the reports were
personally approved by them. Isn’t it unbelievable?”

The results of Tullius’ governance was more than sufficient to leave even him
surprised. The most extreme southeast border of the kingdom was so barren that
adventurers would not consider going there either. Tullius managed to restore the
vitality of that abandoned land.

Of course, Victor, the illegitimate child that he sent in as a spy assisted him but the
harvest of wheat should not have been affected by him. The team that Tullius hired
could not have made any difference during the planting season. He did something even
though he went there alone without any capable personnel. With that in mind, he must
have had excellent expertise in agriculture.

“This young man is very competent. A few years ago, I established friendly ties with
his brother. I did not wish to handle such a person… perhaps because of his reputation.”

“Still, we will not be inviting the ‘slave murderer’, yes?”

“Of course. We just expelled Cartan because of his lack of public morals.”

“Aren’t there rumours that the brothers are on bad terms?”

Just as Lavallee was expressing his regrets, Mearbahn and Langoune disagreed.
Tullius’ achievements were worthy of praise, but he was just a small fry in the grand
scheme of things. The potential that Tullius had did not measure up to the risk he
might bring. For the seniors and the next-generation leaders of the centralist faction
― the people of power within the faction, they found it difficult to accept.

However, there were some nobles who seemed intrigued at such a prospect.

“So your Excellency is having difficulties with deciding on how to handle the Viscount
in question?”

“It seems to me a great waste to leave such a capable young man by the wayside.”

Count Chambrey represented the relatively new members who lacked an influential
voice. He desperately wanted such a talent 一 young, single and most importantly,
being able to draw in wealth. He wanted to be the person to have invited new blood
that could outwit the old guards and the other entitled scions that would have
sinecures handed to them on a silver platter. If presented with the slightest chance,
these group of people would want to strip everything they could from Tullius.

(Dance before me, fools. Revel in your delusions while you can.)
The Marquis’ lips curled.

The visionary responsible for the quick development of Marlan was Tullius. It was
child’s play to read the minds of these fools who were so easily baited.

They were probably now thinking about the daughters among their relatives.
Establish a blood connection with Tullius by marrying him into their family, then reap
the benefits of being associated with him…

Lavallee still had other effective plans to plant spies in Tullius’ camp by marriage. The
first plan to make use of Cartan’s long lost daughter failed completely but with a little
skullduggery, the marriage plan was still feasible with a different bride. In fact, the
lack of anything suspicious about the bride made this the perfect plan.

If anybody realised the potential of using this strategy to establish a relationship with
Tullius… he would immediately execute them all.

In the first place, Lavallee had no intention of welcoming Tullius to his faction. No
matter how skilled he was, he was too dangerous. He was too unpredictable, doing so
much to take back a mere slave. There was no way he could let loose a mad dog like
that.

Also, he had neglected to mention it to the nobles present, but Tullius had been quietly
creating his own faction. If Chambrey stupidly approached him and made unwelcome
overtures, he would use it as an excuse to eliminate him.

Of course, if Chambrey was unfairly accused of a crime without sufficient grounds, it

would instead cause a real rebellion. But this was his homeground, He could always
come up with other methods. In addition, Tullius’ faction was still incomplete.

At this point in time, the young man would be eagerly coming up with some pretext to
return to Marlan. The young man would be doing so in order to escape the Marquis’
clutches and resume the building of his own faction. Now that he had divulged
information about him and revealed how juicy Marlan was to these nobles, how would
things turn out?

Lavallee predicted that there would be families pressing him to stay for a betrothal.
And Tullius would be unaware that it was all part of his plan.

He would take decisive action the moment a member from his faction form a
relationship through marriage with Tullius on their own initiative. This was Lavallee’s
second plan to make up for the first plan failing.

(Taking handouts was never the way of the aristocrat. Instead, one should tear away
the hand that feeds.)

While concealing such thoughts, Marquis Lavallee opened his mouth with a show of
feigned ignorance.

“What a difficult young man, Sir Tullius is… What do you say, my compatriots? I believe
we should end this conversation as it is, and reconvene another time to continue the
discussion.”

“……I do not believe I need to wait, as I have already made my decision.”

Count Langoune objected, as it was in his nature to do so.

“I wonder about that. His territory is completely isolated by high-altitude forests and
close to the border. How he would entertain guests is beyond me… Do you really think
this matter requires careful attention, Marquis?”

As expected of Count Mearbahn, as they had a long history together. The puppetmaster
of noble society was hiding something behind clouds of misdirection, all while
avoiding making definitive statements.

Count Chambrey said nothing, as if to express his unease.

Thusly, the curtains closed on the day’s meeting in accordance with Marquis Lavallee’s
aims. It was supposed to be a bitter day for the Marquis, but it ended without even a
sour aftertaste. That thought rested lightly in his mind.

Truly, it would have been wonderful if that had been true.

That day was entirely uneventful.

The clear autumn sky was beautiful, and a refreshing breeze carried the last traces of
summer on its winds. A group of five women walked through the market, light coats
keeping away the chill, and busy workers welcomed the arrival of a season of rest. It
was a mundane first day of fall.

That day, Nikola was also in the market, leaning on his canvas as he drew the likeness
of passers-by. None of his works were selling. He might be the third son of a merchant,
but he was no way adept in calculations nor negotiation. He was utterly devoid of
business acumen, and when his older brother took over the family business, Nikola
took the opportunity to leave home and pursue a career in the arts. However, even in
that he was hopeless. His poor conversational skills and lack of anyone to recommend
him left him with no choice but to sketch portraits on the streets for a living. Even
though Broussonne was the capital of fine arts, a third-rate artist like him would never
be able to mingle with the upper-crust members of society. That was his lot.

“Hah…”

Nikola raised his head and let out a turbid sigh.

As evening fell, the streets were clearing as people hurried home. It was almost time
for him to pack up his easel and leave. He had had four customers that day. In the end,
one of them had torn up his finished work and refused to pay. It added up to a
miserable sum, just enough to pay for dinner for the night. Last month, and the month
before that, he had been unable to afford to pay his rent. With that in mind, he wanted
to stick it out a little longer, but when the sun went down the less reputable members
of society would come out from the shadows. If he ended up running into thugs, he
would be pressured into giving up what little coins he had left.

Depressed by the inevitability of his situation, he started gathering his supplies. From
the beginning, Nikola had never been talented in portrait drawing. His forte lay
elsewhere, in landscape painting. Since those kinds of works couldn’t be sold to the
common folk, he forced himself to practice portrait drawing.

“How long can I keep doing this…”

He asked himself so, and a reply always came without fail.

If his works didn’t sell, he would die. He had no eye for business and his body was
weak, and he was clumsy with everything except with his hands, so he had no choice
but to continue making a living on the streets. He was forced to put on a composed
look and sell portraits to wide-eyed hicks while under the naive illusion that someday,
somebody would recognise his talents. He was unable to give up on that faint hope.
Therefore, he drank away his fears and misgivings. Cheap alcohol fuelling his drunken
stupor, he escaped his cruel reality of shattered dreams.

Thusly, he once again walked to his usual bar.

The bar in question was on the corner of the market street. It didn’t have expensive or
even good-quality liquor, but it was affordable for him. Above all else, the barmaid was
cheerful. It was the best place to be.

“Welcome… Ah, Mister Nikola.”

Opening the swinging door, he entered the bar. The aforementioned barmaid was full
of courtesy, and greeted him warmly. She was a splendid person that never showed
any aversion to customers like him who looked like a pauper. He returned it with an
awkward smile.

“Ah, Chloe. The usual, if you please.”

“Sure thing. An ale and salted gut, then?”

On the bar’s menu there was a noticeably cheap assortment of food and drink.
Although what he had ordered was usually eaten by Sankt Gallenian boors, with his
meager earnings he had no other choice.

Taking a seat at the bar, he quickly glanced around the room.

It was awfully empty. It was early in the night, and the bar was by no means popular,
but even so it was far too empty. Besides Nikola, the only other customers were a poor
bachelor and an old man who practically reeked of the countryside. It should be the
time when shop apprentices or day laborers would come in to drink the night away,
but even as he slowly ate and drank his way through his meal, no one else entered the
bar.

“Mister Nikola, did something happen today?”

The barmaid, Chloe, asked with a lowered voice. She too probably wanted to know
why there were considerably fewer customers today.

Unfortunately, Nikola also had no idea.

“Hmm… To be honest, I’m also at a loss. I don’t think anything out of the ordinary
happened, though.”

Yes, it had been an entirely uneventful, normal day.

There weren’t any festivals that day, and there hadn’t been a forced city-wide
mourning either. It had been quite an ordinary day.

“Those fellows over there, did they hear anything today?”

Even though Nikola had been drinking himself stupid and would always order the
cheap stuff, it was not like he spent year after year at the same bar. In the last few days,
he had only been able to afford thin porridge and near-expired vegetables. Chloe
herself might have a better idea of why the lack of customers.

Chloe pondered with a brooding expression.

“Well… maybe… I can’t say with confidence, but…”

After a brief pause, she began to talk about a strange tale she had heard from the two
men.

Recently, some activists in Broussonne had been making a name for themselves.
Nikola had seen them many times as well. On every corner, it seemed, they had been
loudly protesting the high tax rates and mismanagement by the nobles, as well as
demanding social reform to elevate the social standing of commoners. In other words,
a grassroots movement.

Usually, the guards cracked down on these protestors, carting them off to the jails for
“special treatment.” Of course, they did not go as far as to sell them as slaves. They did
not go as far as to use violence or start an uprising. Instead, they were locked away for
a few days to let their heads cool off, then released with a warning.

Even so, when caught, the activists were usually badly beaten by the guards. In
addition, they would be held in cold cells, with little to eat. Although Nikola thought
they would have learned their lesson quickly, they never seemed to quit.

‘We will not succumb to violence! Certainly, we will be beaten and held captive.
However, ours is the spirit of liberty! Until our labors come to fruition, we will never
bow!’
After being released from jail, the activists yelled as such at the curious onlookers.

Since then, the movement had been growing increasingly radicalized. Rumor had it
that last month they had marched in a great column to the noble’s district, accusing
them of all sorts of depracities and injustices.

In addition, just a few days ago, the protesters finally showed themselves in the bar.

“Hear me, fellow laborers!”

An unshaven, bloodshot man with an unhealthy pallor had slammed the bar-door
open and started proclaiming his agenda.

It had been at around the same time as Nikola’s entrance. Laborers had just finished
their jobs for the day, and had been relaxing with drinks in hand. If his aim had been
to target the workers, it was the perfect time.

“The day of the breaking of our chains is near! The day we free ourselves from the
yoke of these so-called aristocrats is soon to come! The day of wrath and reckoning is
here! Take up your pickaxes and hoes, and rise against the tyrants!”

The activist continued on, preaching even more extreme views. In a way, it was the
manifesto of a revolt.

Of course, to Nikola, who was born in a fairly large city and moved the royal capital,
such an event was unimaginable.

According to Chloe, the faces of the other patrons were at first still subdued. That was
to be expected. Even if drunk, something as wild as that would take a while to register.
Group drinking was supposed to be relaxing, and never a mob in the making.

However,

“I agree. That’s it, that’s the way!”

One easily-swayed patron stood and nodded their approval to the activist.

The person wore a hood and their appearance could not be easily made out, but from
their voice it was clear it had been a woman.
“No true laborer should disagree! This is our path, and we must follow without
hesitation!”

All the while, the other customers looked on, dumbfounded.

Faced with such force and intensity, some stood up slowly, joining in.

“Ah, you’re right…”

“After all, it’s the nobility’s fault we’re poor…”

“Without them… we’d really be free?”

The activist, seemingly emboldened by their assent, spoke louder and louder to the
oddly dull drunks wandering about.

“That’s exactly it! In ancient times, every man, woman, and child was equal in the eyes
of liberty! But now, we are far from that ideal… Why?! Because our rights were stolen
by the thieves we call the aristocracy!”

“Stolen…? Damn it, I’ll never forgive them!”

“Exactly! Never let go of that rage! Until today, you were all just sheep following the
shepherd's crook! However, now you have gone wild! Resist our overlords, break the
fences, and rise up!”

“O, OHHHHH!!!”

From then on, it had only been a chorus of anger. A wild medley unworthy of the term
revolution.

Patrons and protesters alike took to the streets that night, drunk on something other
than cheap spirits.

“Well, it was something like that.”

“Hah, that seems like quite the tale…”

Nikola laughed it off as he drained his tankard. It was crazy, outrageous, and unlikely
even in his wildest dreams. In truth, the story simply didn’t feel real to him. He couldn’t
say it was impossible, however.

“Speaking of which, it seems like a few of the other regulars that went out that night
have stopped coming to the bar… I wonder what they’re doing now.”

“I imagine they were dragged off to cells. Give them two, three more days for their
liquor to wear off and they will be back for more.”

“You don’t believe me at all, do you, Mister Nikola? It really happened, I’m telling you!”

Said Chloe, pouting with a huff. Faced with such a cute sight, Nikola unintentionally
began to smile.

“Now, now, settle down, Chloe… Come on, cheer up.”

“I’m fine! It’s all your fault, meanie! That said, maybe I’d forgive you if you bought
another drink?”

“Hahaha, you really do have a head for business.”

Nikola eyed his wallet, cold sweat on his palms and a tipsy flush in his cheeks. Did he
really have enough for another drink?

The street artist drunk on mild happiness was pouring his heart and coin out to the
barmaid.

He wanted to escape the hell of day-to-day life, but he couldn’t help but want to
experience this bliss forever.

All the while mocking himself, Nikola continued to down mug after mug.

Until his fate took a turn for the better, until then he would keep going.
“The time has come, my comrades.”

A candle provided weak illumination to the basement room. A man began speaking,
undeterred by the dimness of the room.

The man’s appearance was truly queer. His beard was thick enough to cover his cheeks
and his bloodshot eyes focused on nothing but a single point on the ceiling. The
intensity of his zeal should have made it difficult for anyone to approach him.

Yet, there were many other figures seated around him. While they all looked solemn,
a fanatical joy erupted in all of them.

“OHH…!”

“We have been waiting, Comrade Gaston!”

In unison, they greeted the man. Their singular tone and similar expressions made
them appear like cold mechanical robots. This detached and otherworldly group of
people were the so called ‘activists’.

They were the protesters that appeared in Broussonne two months ago out of
nowhere to criticise the system of government and condemn the rich. They were the
oddballs that never seem to learn their lessons after being rounded up by patrol
guards. Even today, they were still active.

“Finally…”

“Yes.”

The man gave a satisfactory nod to his comrades and took a deep breath.

And he silently reflected upon the tireless days spent to get to this day. Gaston Justeau
was not from Brousonne. He came from the southern rural areas and was originally a
farmer. He lived in poverty while in his hometown. The lands he worked on were by
no means barren. In fact, the land in the area was considered the richest among the
surrounding regions and they could grow local fruit trees, etcetera. However, this did
not guarantee the livelihoods of the common folk.

The place Gaston lived was where the rich and powerful farmers resided. These
powerful farmers were supposed to act as representatives for the farming community
but by negotiating with the nobles over a long period of time, change gradually
happened. Over some generations, they made the surrounding families work under
them as tenant farmers and extracted wealth from the tenant farmers. Some even
considered these rich farmers as half nobles. There was a lord governing the farmers
but with the rich farmers, they were effectively governed by two different people. No
matter how fertile the lands were, now that they have to pay nearly double in taxes,
they could no longer have a decent livelihood.

Naturally, Gaston was one of these tenant farmers. The most vivid of his memories in
his hometown was starvation.

Just by being part of the rich farmer’s ‘protection’, the tenant farmers had to endure
the shame of living like slaves. The village leaders were bribed blind and the poor
farmers held only disdain for the lord who sat back and did nothing. Anger built up
against the merchants who enriched themselves by trading the farmers’ harvest.
Gaston’s motivation came from his hatred towards this country and this world that
allowed the powerful to exploit them.

Gaston had to control his rage as he was addressing his comrades. While trembling,
he announced.

“I will order all our other allies that remain in hiding to begin their operations. Now is
the time to rise!!”

His strong words seemed to shake the air. Not because of how his voice trembled. His
comrades trembled at having their hot impulses awaken.

Rise.

Yes, it was time to rise up. What Gaston and his comrades were referring to was an
armed uprising in Brousonne.

Gaston surveyed the faces in the room. They were the faces of people who would have
died to destitution and poverty. Their faces were baked by the Sun and their
complexions pale with some even concealing bruises. There were even some among
them who had been assigned to unfathomable hard labour and had wrinkles in the
corners of their eyes despite not being in their thirties.

Last but not least, he could see the strong loathing they had against the powerful ⁠—
nobles who tortured commoners and commoners who exploited their brethren for
personal gain.

“OHHHHH!!”

“Long live Comrade Gaston!”

“Victory to the labourers! Death to the parasites!”

Gaston stood up to the rallying cries and shouted.

He was once a simple farmer. An ordinary person that was powerless, uneducated and
spiritless.

Today, he was different. Today, he stood at the front for his enraged comrades. 2
months ago, he stood at the intersection in the capital, gathering support for the
movement. He was mocked as an insane person and stoned by onlookers. Now he has
put together a sizable number of comrades who shared the same beliefs as he did and
they would now grasp victory. And then, they would be remembered in the Kingdom’s
history, or rather, the entire history of the continent as heroes.

Intoxicated by what they were about to accomplish, Gaston raised his face in a grin.

“Come my comrades! We have to stand together for our rage! To take back our rights
from our oppressors who call themselves nobles! To take back our money from the
merchants who pilfered from us!… For this fight, will you all stand with me!?”

“OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

In response to their leader, the so called ‘first activist’, the other activists stood up.

Like the evening sun reflecting brightly on a canal, their bottomless eyes glimmered.
 2

“Hey, look over there.”

A guard that was patrolling the city was the first to notice something amiss. He made
a sour face and called out to the other guard who was patrolling with him.

“Hm? What’s wrong?”

“…I don’t know how to say it but doesn’t that look fishy?”

He tilted his head to signal towards the crowd.

The center street of Brousonne was usually bustling towards the end of the day. That
was to be expected since it was located in the center and Brousonne had the largest
population among cities in the Kingdom. Naturally there would be more people going
out at night. In addition, the city installed more streetlights, making it less intimidating
for city-dwellers to wander around at night.

Just like any other day, the street was crowded with men who seemed to be going back
home from work.

“Huh, I don’t see anything different.”

His fellow patrol guard laughed scornfully. There was nothing special about hungry
labourers filling up cheap restaurants or gathering at the tavern. At one glance, this
scenery was very much like any other day in the capital.

However, he could not wrap his mind around it.

There was a nagging feeling he could not get rid of. He had a vague sense that
something about the day had changed. What caught his eye was how abnormally
dishevelled these men were. Some of them carried pickaxes on their backs,
presumably because they worked in construction. There were sailors who held poles
too. They probably worked at the harbour by the Amon River. Or the people carrying
firewood with a wooden rack on their backs who looked like they were going to try to
sell firewood to kitchens that lacked firewood. Wood carving knives hung from their
waists. There were the blacksmiths with sledgehammers on their belts too…

And then, he finally found the words for his unease.

“Um. Somehow, I think.”

Everybody here were all men. And all of them had ―

“Somehow everybody here has tools that can act as a weapon?”

― tools that could be used for murder.

The other patrol guard stared hard into the crowd.

“Now that you say it…”

It was unusual for people return home from work. What purpose is there for
construction labourers to bring their pickaxes back home? And the sailors who should
only need their poles for transporting goods around the harbour? And the firewood
sellers, why would they need a knife on their waists?

Of course, there were a few who might prefer to have the tools of their trade wherever
they went. Or perhaps, cautious people who wanted to have a weapon for self defence
if, by some rare occurrence, a fight breaks out at the tavern.

Such individuals numbered a handful at most. And right now, the number of men
parading around with their ‘weapons’ numbered more than all his fingers and toes. If
an incident were to occur now, bloodshed seemed possible.

“To be safe, I am going to report to the guardhou―”

He stopped right before finishing his sentence. With a thud, his fellow patrol fell to the
ground.

“…Huh?”

He looked towards his fellow patrol who fell flat on the ground suddenly. He was
moaning in pain as his helmet was knocked off from the back. As soon as he
understood what had happened to him, he felt a shock from behind.

“Argh!”

His vision flickered as though fire was spilling from his eyes and his head kissed the
ground. I must have been hit, he thought. He felt a throbbing pain and a burning
sensation.

Unable to lift himself up, he sluggishly turned to look. He saw a familiar unshaven man
looking down on them while holding a wood block.

“You bastard… rebel scum…”

The madman who had been going around the city giving a fiery speech. The
authorities decided that he was a person of small significance and let him go
repeatedly after being arrested. If he could remember, his name was Gaston Justeau, a
person with a really shady appearance. He was leading a bunch of other labourers who
had the same ambitions as he did.

Gaston rubbed his foot against the two guards.

“Dogs of our oppressors. Kill them…”

“…Wha!?”

The poor guards had no time to even blink before a rain of blows fell upon them.
Punched, smashed and stabbed. Their bodies were entirely destroyed by the wooden
pole, sledgehammers and pitchforks. Perhaps because they were trained soldiers
while the rioters were just impoverished commoners, it took some time for them to
land a finishing blow.

Right before one of the guards died, he muttered.

“Im-Impossible. This is… a riot…”

The guard was probably trying to say how out of place it was for a riot to happen in
the capital. Gaston bellowed in laughter.

“Riot? No,no… this is a revolution.”

In his excitement, Gaston did not realise the person he was trying to correct had
already breathed his last.

Shortly after, a fellow comrade sprinted to Gaston.

“Comrade Gaston, we have wiped out the patrols in this area. We are victorious. We
did it!”

At their great success, Gaston patted the shoulders of his comrade and smiled widely.

“Good job. Then we shall proceed as planned. I shall head towards our ‘true goal’ from
here on.”

“Affirmative! I shall put my life on the line! For freedom and equality!”

“For freedom and equality.”

They saluted each other before splitting.

They were the suicide squad. Their morale was high and spared no thoughts for their
own lives. They had perfect coordination and were unified in their goals. Surely they
would fight to the death on Gaston’s orders.

Nothing greater than to die a martyr for their great cause! In contrast, there was not a
single soldier who would offer their lives for their oppressors, the nobles.

Gaston thought to himself and he turned directions. The actions they took here was
just a distraction. The root of the revolution was not here.

Behind Gaston, there were his subordinates in charge of rallying the other members.

“My fellow comrades undertaking this noble deed. My fellow warriors who share our
ideals! Now is the time we purify the core of the Kingdom’s corruption, the capital! Let
us begin with the greedy people who run rampant in the city ― the merchants!”

“OHHHHHHHH!”

They raised their weapons in the air and yelled.

“That’s right! Kill the merchants!”

“The noose for the thieves who steal our sweat and blood!”

“I-I will never forgive the slave merchant who bought my daughter for peanuts!”

Resentment against the merchants filled the air.

Naturally. Gaston concealed his laughter. Merchants were also commoners and yet,
they indulged in using deception and tricks to sap away the people’s gains. They were
wicked people who fawned on the nobles and might even put nobles for sale in their
slave collection. Well, not that it was anything noteworthy for the daughter of a noble
to be sold as a slave.

Purging the corrupt merchants was once again, a righteous undertaking.

“All who lust over extravagance and monopolise daily necessities should die! Now that
it has come to this, do whatever you can to accomplish this! Take back the people’s
wealth!”

“OHHHHHHHHH!”

Gaston took his final glance at the leaders and the boisterous crowd. There was
nothing here for him now. His calling laid elsewhere.

On an autumn evening, the centre street of Broussonne descended into chaos. The
rioters, who proclaimed themselves as righteous freedom fighters, attacked
whichever merchant or shopkeeper they came across. They started with their most
hated money lenders and the slave traders, and then moved on to the grocers who
sold fruits and meat, clothing stores and pharmacies. Even the vendors who sold
goods on mats were not spared.

The mob had already associated anybody who engage in trade with money to be their
enemies.

At a certain butcher shop…

“Die!! Oppressors!!”

“P-Please stop! W-What did I…”

“Shut up! Fucking miser who wouldn’t even feed a starving kid!”

The shopkeeper put in life on the front to defend his shop. After being hit by a rock on
his head and fainting, he was beaten by poles and perished. The mob only had this to
say after killing him.
“An evil person who got his fortune from obtaining the livestock of a farm at a bargain.
Comrades! Let us hang his shameful corpse for all to see on the streets! Just like how
he butchers the meat he sells, let’s chop him up!”

“Yeah!!!!”

After justifying their barbaric acts with whatever excuse they could make, the mob
moved to the next merchant.

“W-What are you bastards doing! What do you plan to do with my daughter!?”

A piercing yell came from a clothing shop that should have closed at nighttime. His
daughter was pinned down by two men who attacked the store out of nowhere. For a
healthy child her age, she should have a bright and healthy complexion, but she now
appeared ghastly pale from fright.

“H-Help me, father…”

The two perpetrators snorted at the young girl’s pitiful attempt to get help from her
father.

“You father and daughter are evil people who demand money for a basic human right
to ‘wear clothes’. Now you shall pay for your crimes.”

“Nonsense! What crime is it to deal with clothes? Where and what law have we brok―”

“Law?”

The leader of the two twitched his brows.

“The laws of the Kingdom were made to control the people! For us, the righteous, who
seek the return of our human rights, there is no need to follow those laws!”

Since they were not nobles, they would not recognise the legitimacy of laws created
by nobles. He tried to argue with such a childish explanation.

The tailor muttered feebly, while forgetting that the assailants were armed and his
daughter was still a hostage.
“C-Crazy…”

And those became his last words.

“Fucker! You dare disrespect us!”

“F-Father!”

Not reacting to his daughter’s warning, the tailor had his head knocked to the floor.
The person with the sledgehammer had hit him on an impulse. Blood pooled on the
floor from the tailor’s head. He died instantly. There were still some movements in his
body, but they were probably just muscle spasms.

“…My apologies, comrade. Looks like I dealt with him earlier than expected.”

“No matters, comrade. As long as the end result does not differ from what we had
planned.”

As the two engaged in an incomprehensible talk, the person who was not in charge of
holding the girl, took off the tailor’s clothes.

Perplexed by their actions, the young girl gulped and asked.

“W-What are you doing to father…”

“Put his naked dead body on the streets for display.”

The young girl still could not understand why and only realised how terrifying they
were. While in a confused state, she continued to ask.

“Huh? Why?”

“I told you, didn’t I? Your family have sinned by selling clothes and conning people of
their money. That is why we will have your sins be on full display after you all die.
Though we were originally planning to take away your clothes one by one to fully
embarrass before executing.”

The man looked coldly at the young girl. The young girl could vaguely sense the vulgar
desires emitting from his gaze.
“Since you are still young, there is still room for you to change. If you try your best to
serve us, then we will consider sparing your life.”

The young girl let out a small shriek. It was clear what the man meant.

“First, strip her. Then take her outside and do whatever you want with her. If she
refuses to atone for her sins, execute her.”

The leader of the two instructed his comrade without hesitation.

“Noooooooooooooo!!!”

The young girl screamed asher clothes were torn to shreds.

At some other place, unlike others, this group of rioters were met with resistance.

“Damn small fry. Trying to gang up on me to steal my money? Huh!”

An unkempt man wielding a bloodied sword roared. He was protecting the stout and
fat middle-aged merchant behind him. The merchant tightened his fleshy cheeks and
smiled.

“Fuhahaha! As expected of a professional, your skills are worth your price! So what
can you paupers do against my money? Hahahaha!”

“D-Damn bodyguard!”

“So strong…! A former adventurer?”

They were tasked to attack this money-lending company and crashed into the front
gate in high morale but could not get past the bodyguard. They have already lost 5
comrades to the blade of the bodyguard and their front were exposed. The bodyguard
leading the front appeared to be the chief bodyguard and there seemed to be 8 other
hired bodyguards. On the other hand, there were only 6 rioters left. The aggressors
were forced to accept their unfavourable position.

“Retreat! Quick, retreat!”

“Ugh, dammit!”

The leader of the rioters bit his tongue as he called for the rest to retreat. The other
surviving members were equally anguished as they escaped.

While wiping off the blood from his sword with a cloth, the bodyguard looked towards
his employer.

“So, what about the survivors? Shall we keep chase and kill them all?”

“Wait, master. That would be problematic.”

The money-lending merchant put his cowardice on full display.

“From what I have heard, there are countless men like them in the city. If master left
my side, there is a chance more will come over. Right?”

“Hmph, reasonable.”

The bodyguard hid his sword into the sheath. He could roughly guess what the
merchant was considering. His agreement with the merchant was to act as a
bodyguard and if he was to pursue the assailants previously, the merchant might have
to pay an additional fee. The merchant probably was reluctant to pay further expenses.

In any case, this was perfect for the bodyguard. He was tired of the dangerous
adventurer life, that was why he chose to be hired by the moneylender. He was not the
least interested in killing all of them. It would be a different story if he was paid extra
though.

In the end, that decision was a fatal one. He should have pursued and killed every one
of them. Or at the very least, move to a different location away from the company. The
rioters that escaped regrouped with another party.

“My apologies, we met with some difficulties, comrade. We had to escape even though
there was a bloodsucker that had to be exterminated.”

“What?”

“There was a skilled bodyguard. He personally slew 5 of our comrades.”

“That is a problem. We had planned to kill the merchant and make use of his
company’s ill gotten funds to support our revolution.”

“If we idle here, they would be able to run away. And our revolution would lack this
final piece.”

“There’s no way around it?”

As they conversed, the leader rioter noticed something behind. One of his
subordinates had taken something from a shop. It was a jar being carried on a wagon.
It was rigourously wrapped in thick cloth.

Inside it was oil.

“Let’s burn the building. No matter how skilled the bodyguard is, he would not be able
to escape a burning building.”

“Then the money of the company…”

“Hmph, we are talking about the miserliness of a money-lender. If his priorities are on
money, then he would have kept them in a safe. We just have to dig the safe out after
the burning and help ourselves to it later.”

“I see.”

The other rioters who listened in nodded. The plan was put together with mostly
unproven opinions but they were determined. Rather than this being what they had
to do, it was probably what they wanted to do. They wanted to see the scene of hell
when the hated money-lender burns spectacularly.

Despite the short amount of time they took to put together a plan to burn the company,
they were disproportionately disciplined during the execution.

They filled the wagon that had been carrying the oil-filled jar with wood instead and
charged into the company’s front gates. They could use it to make a barricade if
necessary and could use it as a fire starter too.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! GET OUT! GET THE FUCK OUT!”

Inside the blazing building made out of bricks, the bodyguard yelled. Immediately
after, the sound of barricades breaking from within could be heard. They were likely
taking it easy and put the minimum level of vigilance. As a result, the rioters did not
have to protect themselves from retaliation.

Still, it looked like the former adventurer was not a pushover. The rioters had planted
blockades at the gates and the bodyguard was cutting them apart them with incredible
precision and speed with his sword. Unlike his current job, he had to face inhuman
abilities of monsters as an adventurer. If they allowed the bodyguard to continue
breaking apart the blockade, it was certain that it would fall apart.

“How’s that! I’m gonna tear it apart! Piece of shit!”

After tearing apart the wooden blockade violently, the bodyguard jumped out. There
were burnt marks on his clothing. His eyes burned with revenge. He had to get them
to payback for putting him into harm’s way and for putting his reputation in question.

This time, he would slay every one of them. He took a cursory glance around him and
immediately, the assailants pounced into action.

“He is out! Now!”

Splish. He was drenched in water. No. The unusual smell and the stickiness of the
liquid means it was not water. The bodyguard realised what the liquid was and went
pale.

“D-Don’t tell me… This is oi―”

Unfortunately, before he could finish, a stray ember caught onto him and he was set
ablaze. He had already been surrounded by the rioters carrying torches so the
outcome was the same though.

“Arhhhhhhhh! H-HOOOOOOOOOOT!”

The bodyguard had been drenched in the leftover oil they had. The moment he ignited,
the hellish temperatures of the flames were transferred to his body.

(Hot! Hot! HOOOOOOOOOT!!)

He only had time to raise his voice when it just caught fire. He could not scream as he
wanted in his last moments. He could only dance in the enveloping flames as his vision
became overwhelmed by red.

At long last, the former adventurer bodyguard had been reduced to ashes.

One of the rioters sneered and then glanced into the interior of the building. Beyond
the opening created by the bodyguard, a merchant stood frozen at being surrounded.
The rioter could not help but laugh.

“There goes your last bit of hope. So, which would you choose? Stand where you are
and burn to death or step out and get beaten to death. That’s all the mercy we can offer
you. Decide. We will respect your choice.”

“Eeeeek!”

The merchant fell flat on his bottoms. The building would soon be consumed by the
flames but he could not step out. He remained indecisive and died without making a
choice.

At a certain tavern, rioters were on the verge of breaking in.

“Tear down everything! Take back everything! Their booze had always belonged to the
people!”

“We are here to take back liquor produced from the wheat and grapes of farmers!”

“…None of this makes sense!?”

The owner angrily shouted back at the rioters who were trying to break the table that
was being used to fence the gate. Unlike other establishments, this was just a small
tavern serving cheap booze. Why were they being labelled as oppressors instead of
allies of the people?

“What the heck is wrong with these people…”

“Yeah, really…”

Nikola, a frequent customer of this tavern, agreed readily with the owner. What in the
world was happening. Just as per normal, he was done for the day and headed for the
tavern. This was a perfectly normal day so why was he involved in this now?

What reason do these rioters have for ignoring the tavern’s contribution for the people
and for them to direct their violence towards the tavern.

Yes, there were some shady people among the merchants. But those kinds of people
were just a small handful. Nikola himself could be considered to be running his own
business, though the scale was relatively small. He was completely undeserving of the
current situation. Similarly, though he felt bad about it, this was just a cheap tavern
that can barely turn any profit. The same probably goes for the shops around here too.

These people were robbing innocent people of their lives and property.

“Isn’t this just a new way to rob others?”

The owner could only laugh dryly at Nikola’s comments.

“Yes! That is it! They are no different from thieves at all.”

In the meantime, he piled up wooden crates and barrels to strengthen the table
blockade.

“…Can you smell something burning along that direction? They must be burning
somebody’s shop. Stealing, killing, arson. These must be the worst villains we have
seen so far!”

“Aren’t we in trouble, ol’ gramps!?”

A customer who happened to be present stood with an grave expression.

“If this place burns up, we can’t fight back at all! Won’t the booze catch fire!?”

“This shop doesn’t have the kind of high purity, expensive booze.”

“Even so!”

The customer lips quivered. He held out his hands in the air, clenching and unclenching
his hands, as though he was grabbing somebody by the collar.

The end is nigh, Nikola realised.

That was the person strange quirk whenever he becomes stressed and when
somebody big was about to happen. Once, he joined as an onlooker and was
witnessing a fight between some hooligans. Just before a guy pulled out his knife, this
same customer made the same movements.

“Sticking here would be the same! I-I’m l-leaving!”

“Hm!? Stop!”

A man let out the panicked scream and wanted to run towards the blockaded exit.
Nikola promptly pinned him down. He was probably going to get rid of the blockade
if that was what it took to leave. Even though he was pinned down, he tried desperately
to reach for the exit.

“Let me go! Get out of the way! Why are you getting in my way!? Are you friends of the
people outside!?”

“Ugh!? Hey, stop!”

The man desperately elbowed Nikola who held onto him. Nikola vision was obstructed
momentarily by some sparks of sorts. He could feel an impact on his nose and the
warmth in it. Blood gushed out from Nikola’s nose. Nikola’s grip on the man loosened.

“Argh!”

“Ah!?”

A sound of something dull came from behind and the man he held on to lost strength.
Puzzled about what had conspired, Nikola looked up.

“Oof…, Chloe?”

“Hah… Hah… Are you alright, Nikola?”

Chloe, the barmaid, holding a beer mug and breathing roughly. The man beside him
now laid still with a lump on his head. Looks like she helped by knocking the man out.

“Thank you.”

“I am glad. Ah! Blood! Blood is flowing out!”

“Ah, it is just a nosebleed. Nothing to worry about. You were quite the daring one
though…”

He made the jokes, perhaps because he felt at ease now. Chloe bashfully laughed it off
while hiding the beer mug behind her. The tavern keeper smiled.

“Heh! She is a lady from the lower part of the city. Since she is not a noble, of course
she knows how to handle a drunkard or two.”

“Stop teasing me!”

Chloe’s cheeks turned red from embarrassment. Nikola felt more relaxed. Still, their
situation remained very much unchanged and there were still violent noises from
outside the tavern.

“Hey! Are you listening! Shit! How long are you planning to hole up there, you evil
poisoning pig!”

The rioters were still trying to break through. The endless sound of them recklessly
kicking, punching and hitting the wooden barricades poured in.They should not be
breaking in any time soon since it seemed they lack an appropriate tool like an axe.

“Do you guys want to be burned alive!? If not, get the hell out!”

The angry voice from across the walls sent a shock to Chloe. Nikola carefully placed
his hand on her shoulders and said quietly to her.

“I-It will be fine. If they are still threatening us like that, it actually means they cannot
do anything else. So the shop won’t be burned anytime soon.”

“Nikola…?”

“Very likely, their oil is currently being used to attack somewhere else. I’m sure the
people out there don’t even have a fire starter.”

Nikola was rather confident in his conjecture. After all, he could not hear one bit of
reason nor patience from the man shouting outside. If he had the means to burn the
place up, surely he would not have spared a thought at negotiation and simply burn
up the tavern.
Which basically meant that they currently lack the means to do so.

The tavern keeper rubbed his chin, appearing convinced and gave a fishy look to
Nikola.

“What if they regrouped with the others with the guys who can start a fire? Wouldn’t
it just be a matter of time…”

“Hm, yup. But…”

Nikola gulped down all his fears and maintained a cool front. Though he has never
once had anything smooth sailing for him.

“…if it is a matter of time, that is the same for them too.”

“Oh?”

“They are making a huge riot in the capital. Surely the knights would be rounding them
up anytime soon?”

Nikola said those optimistic words not to persuade the tavern keeper and Chloe, but
to convince himself. This was Brousounne, the capital of the Arquell Kingdom. The
knights stationed here were the most elite and most renowned amongst the military
might of the Arquell Kingdom. Surely, they would not let these ruffians do as they like
forever. If the knights are coming, they would be able to exterminate these people…

This was Nikola’s, as well as the entire city dwellers’ final hope. With those words,
Chloe and the tavern keeper could force a smile.

“R-Right! The knights would definitely come and save us!”

“Seriously. If not, where is all our tax money going to…”

While they were in the midst of conversation, sounds of breaking could be heard.
Would the knights arrive first or would the defences of the tavern wear out first? Or
perhaps these people would regroup with the guys with the oil first?

The powerless inhabitants of Brousounne huddled together, shivering in wait of the

conclusion.
Nikola’s conjecture had two pitfalls. First, who was the target of these rioters? Second,
the knights that he spoke of, who did they belong to? However, pointing out these
flaws were meaningless. For the powerless, there was nothing they could do but wait.
The Northern Royal Garden of Broussonne was shrouded in an unusual atmosphere.

Bonfires blazed all along the bank of the river, illuminating the entire area as if it was
fully midday. With a blinding luminescence, the glare reflected in the polished armor
and the swords turned towards the heavens by those standing in line.

These were the Knights of the Royal Guard, lauded as the finest in the kingdom. With
the exception of the Second Order, which had left the capital for a bandit
extermination, the full war potential of the First through Sixth Orders was assembled.
They numbered no less than five hundred.

Dressed in their beautiful armor, the band of powerful knights stood in formation,
illuminated by the sickly light of burning turpentine—a magnificent sight to see in the
dead of night, and dazzling to the eyes of the beholder.

However, that sight would have inspired different emotions in the districts where the
city folk were closest to the impending threat.

Was there time to wait like this?

“…Now, may the ceremonial parade of his Majesty’s forces begin!”

So announced the haughty aristocrat in jarringly out-of-place civilian finery.

The Parade—or as many thought of it, an overly pompous inspection of the knights as
the king watched.

One might ask why even though the flames grew steadily in height, the process was so
ponderously slow. Unfortunately, the kingdom’s ruling forces were plenty busy. Only
through their exhaustive efforts was the current situation possible.

The Kingdom of Arquell was a typical feudal state in which powerful local nobles
propped up a shaky monarchy. In compensation for the bestowal of the right to rule
by the king, these nobles would defend the king’s lands from foreign invaders and
monstrous beasts. However, from time to time these duties would be forgotten,
overwhelmed by the heady rush of power. In accordance with the ways of kings, it was
easier to exploit the lowborn people of the land than to combat powerful enemies or
defend far-flung territories. In addition, over time nobles forgot that their land and
status was ‘the king’s gift’ and began to believe that it was ‘the family’s right’. Over the
course of the past five hundred years to the present, the king’s authority had dwindled
to little more than a thorn in the side of the nobles.

At best, His Majesty the King should be little more than a fancy decoration. Out of the
way, and no longer attempting to unreasonably curtail the powers of the nobles—that
was the general sentiment of the aristocracy. Because of this, in the eyes of the elites
who served to defend the royal family from all threats, at any cost, these nobles were
worth less than the dirt beneath their boots. If even the slightest whisper of rebellion
against the royal family were heard, those same knights would rise up in military force
to conduct a political purge, sparing not even the most influential of nobility. As such,
whenever the royal guardsmen attempted to mobilize, the bureaucracy would mire
them in unending, fictitious ceremonies and red tape.

Applications needed to be filled out for the removal of even a single sword, oaths to
serve the king were required to be reaffirmed, and ceremonial farewells to the ladies
of the court… there was no limit to the innumerable banalities. This time, the process
had been limited to only a single parade for the king. Sacrifices were made, and
compromises found.

The reason the Royal Guards were still waiting was the Centralist and Decentralist
factions.

“Kneel! His Majesty the King has arrived!”

At the facilitating noble’s signal, the knights fell to a single knee in perfect unison,
thrusting their swords point-first into the earth, and resting their foreheads against
the bellies of their blades. This act was meant to symbolize the peaceful intent of the
men, and to remind themselves of their oath of service.

Viewed from the front, the kneeling knights’ expressions were hidden behind their
swords. However, it was entirely possible that resentment over the delay lurked in
their hearts.
Even a single word with a Royal Guardsman would quickly reveal their diverse origins.
The First Order, the primary bodyguards of the imperial court, were dominated by the
children of aristocrats, in stark contrast to the absent Second Order, which recruited
regardless of social standing. The Third Order and below were said to be comprised
of an even split between nobles and commoners.

For those knights of common stock, the impending plight of the citizens of Broussonne
was theirs as well. On their rest days, they often shopped at the same stores, ate in the
same restaurants, and drank in the same bars as the rest of the city. For some, their
families and homes were in direct danger. For those who thought that way, it was
incredibly difficult for them to stand there.

They wanted to move quickly, and as quickly as possible.

To these knights of rare caliber, the king began to speak.

“Ah… ah… n-now, be-because of…”

With a bland, dull expression, the king began to stammer as he made his entrance.

Continuing from the royal palace into the North Garden, a red carpet was hurriedly
spread before him down the stairs. At this sight, a soft sigh rippled amongst the
arrayed courtiers and guards. Of course, that sigh stemmed in no way from respect or
admiration. In fact, it clearly carried an air of contempt and scorn.

Charles the Eighth, third of his line, king of Arquell. Fifty-eight years of age.
Beleaguered and exhausted, he looked far older than he truly was. Over the course of
his reign of thirty-five years, he had yet to father a successor after the untimely,
consecutive deaths of the First and Second princes. As he aged, his ability to handle
political affairs had decayed.

Although political gossip often claimed that the king was nothing more than a puppet
for Marquis Lavallee, the Marquis himself would deny it by exclaiming “if that were
the case, I would have chosen a better one”.

The crudely constructed puppet in question stood awkwardly in front of the knights.
Upon further inspection, he was visibly shaking. In recent years the king had begun to
show signs of extreme paranoia, and Charles the Eighth had grown afraid of the
swords meant to protect him. As he dallied, the disaster in Broussonne spiraled
further out of control.
With a burst of nervous energy, the king, beginning to sweat, finally mustered a shout.

“K-Knights! Raise your heads!”

Truthfully, it resembled more of a shrill scream than a shout, entirely unbefitting of

the ruler of a country. Nevertheless, it was an order. As he commanded, the knights
complied without a hint of disrespect. Perhaps too sharply, as the king froze up in fear.

Finally, the king withdrew from his pocket a crisp piece of parchment containing a
royal edict hurriedly drafted by an etiquette official.

“M-My honored subjects who have p-p-performed admirably. A-As long as you are
here with me, t-there shall be no reason to be a-afraid!”

It was hardly an inspiring speech.

The address was likely intended to rouse the spirits of the knights before their
departure, but the author had neglected to account for the character of the one reading
it aloud. Instead, the knight’s morale had visibly fallen.

“H-However! A-A-As has been relayed to me, t-there are rebels in Broussonne, our
Kingdom’s capital of five hundred years! As much as I regret parting with you all, the
k-k-knights are also supposed to protect the Kingdom and it’s King. A-As such…”

With his warbling voice and sheen of sweat painfully apparent, the King’s speech was
seemingly over.

“M-Message! Message!”

An officer, face fully flushed, ran into the garden and interrupted the proceedings.

“I-I-Insolent fool! By what authority do you dare interrupt your king?!”

The king grew suddenly furious, veins swelling on his temples. As an unparalleled
coward, he would go to any length to maintain his last bastion of safety—his authority
as a king—and despised those who threatened it.

“I humbly beg your forgiveness! It is indeed this one’s fault for intruding upon your
grand speech! H-However—”
“S-Silence! I will not suffer the excuses of a traitor!”

“No! This is an emergency; I cannot stay silent!”

The knights looked around amongst themselves, trading glances. To risk being
charged with lese-majeste, as well as the wrath of the king, he nonetheless persisted
in his attempts to deliver his message. All those assembled wondered privately what
the message was about.

However, there was an obvious exception.

“Then you shall be executed! Die and hold your tongue! S-Somebody, kill him right
away!”

Out of all those there, the King alone failed to understand the gravity of the situation.

Charles the Eighth was livid. A mere ant had dared to interrupt him and disobey his
commands. Much like a man surprised by a cockroach crawling down his neck, he was
blinded by an instinctual fury.

If unchecked, he would not stop. Knowing this, the Captain of the Third Order steeled
his resolve, and stood.

“My King! Please excuse any discourtesy on my part!”

As though drenched by a bucket of cold water, the king jumped and swiveled to look
at him.

“Eek! W-what is it?”

The Captain of the Third Order was encouraged by the king’s response. When a
superior asks a question, an opportunity arises to explain in more detail. In other
words, he could say what was on his mind.

The captain spoke quickly, not giving the king a chance to reconsider.

“I am eternally grateful for the chance to speak. My King, although it is true this man
is a fool for interrupting your words, it is now apparent that he bears a message for
you of the utmost importance. In my lowly opinion, the best course of action is to hear
what he has to say, and pass judgement at a later point. If the message is truly
worthless, then your ineffable order will be carried out with the greatest prejudice.”

Essentially, at least listen to the man before killing him. Being only a knight, he had to
be as convincing as possible to sway the King himself.

Finally, appearing even more infuriated, the king assented.

“…Fine! Do what you want.”

Sulking like a child, the King turned away in a huff.

With an audible sigh of relief, the Captain turned to the messenger.

“As the King has ordered, speak.”

“Y-Yes!”

The officer kept his message as brief as he could.

“The rebels that refer to themselves as activists have broken through to the east bank
of the River Amon, the noble’s quarter! The soldiers stationed there request
reinforcement from the Royal Guard!”

“Wh—”

“What!?”

The nobles and knights alike cried out in surprise.

Many of the noble-born knights had families residing in the mansions of the noble
quarter. Although initially unconcerned by reports of commoners being attacked, the
news of the approaching threat seemed suddenly much more real.

“My King!”

The Captain of the First Order appeared anxious.

“Please give us the order to advance! We cannot have these bandit scum run wild!”

The rest of the First Order nodded in agreement. As stated earlier, the First Order
mainly comprised noble sons, many of whom were born in eastern Broussonne.

“It would be an unending disgrace if noble blood were to be spilled by these louts!
Additionally, our shame would be all the greater for allowing it to happen in the
capital, the seat of the Kingdom’s strength!”

Commoners killing nobles in their homes would be an ill omen of things to come for
Charles the Eighth.

An extreme opinion made all the harsher by the Captain’s disrespectful tone towards
the King. Shaken by his words, the King had gone pale, though the time for appearances
had long passed.

“T-Then, all the knights shall go to the noble quarter! Y-Yes, I order it done!”

Swept up in the heat of the moment, the King spoke without thinking.

“My apologies once again! That is unwise, my King!”

The Captain of the Third Order spoke up, and Charles the Eighth reddened in anger
again.

“W-Why!? This time, you are disobeying—”

“Your fury is most justified, but as your loyal retainer I cannot possibly condone such
an action!”

“What is the meaning of this, Captain?”

The Captain of the First Order asked with a cold voice.

“Why would you object to the protection of the noble quarter?”

“All I am saying is that there is no need to deploy the full strength of the Royal Guards
in a single location. Our priority should be the commoner’s streets, where there were
reported rebels actively committing arson. If we were to neglect that, would it not be
a dereliction of our duty?”

The Captain of the Third Order responded with equal chill. Deep down, he was furious.
The Captain of the First Order had shown no interest in defending the city until he
heard that the noble’s homes were threatened, when his attitude changed completely.
He could not help but resent such a mindset.

“The nobility are the pillars upon which our Kingdom stands. Are you saying we
should leave the most important people in our nation to die like dogs?”

Who cares about peasants? The lives of nobles were far more valuable. That kind of
logic only served to reinforce pre-existing biases.

“Captain, I wholly agree. We cannot allow the embarrassment of allowing a noble to

die. However, if we allow the fires to spread unchecked, the city will burn to the
ground!”

“Ugh…”

The Captain of the First Order could not argue that point. Even if it was a city of
commoners, it was still the capital. How could they possibly keep face if they allowed
it to burn to ash?

The Captains of other orders joined in the ongoing argument.

“I agree. There is still an existing garrison in the area. A minimal detachment should
be sufficient.”

“Well, we cannot afford to gamble on this. The nobility are the shields of royalty, after
all. That said, I believe a single order would suffice.”

“In that case, it seems natural to send the First Order, as many of them are noble scions.
They could protect their homes without worry, no?”

“Y-You all?!”

The Captain of the First Order was completely blindsided. In charge of palace security,
the First Order had grown used to serving those of high rank. Their duty entailed
neither skill with the blade nor strength of the heart. All that was required was a high
enough rank to not embarrass the residents of the palace, and perhaps a pretty face.

In short, the First Order was a glorified social club for young gentlemen. They were
put work primarily in parades and as honor guards. It was ludicrous to compare the
First Order to the other orders, who were true elites hardened in battle or handpicked
for meritorious service. Their only authority lay in their names as nobility.

Thus, the Captain of the First Order’s reluctance to fight without backup. Of all those
in the palace, he was most aware of the First Order’s complete incompetence. If at all
possible, he wanted every Royal Guard available deployed to the noble quarter. If not,
then at least another order for support.

None of the other Captains were interested, unfortunately. None were of noble stock
and were to the man true commoners. In comparison to their burning homes, the
plight of the nobles held little value in their eyes.

(These cocky bastards…)

The Captain of the First Order cursed under his breath.

Once, the Royal Guards numbered no more than a hundred. At the present, even a
single order would number that many or more. The reason for this dramatic
expansion was the machinations of Marquis Lavallee to strengthen the Kingdom after
it’s defeat fifty years ago. With the backing of the Centralist faction, the Royal Guards
had evolved from a small security force to the premier guardians of the capital. In
order to swiftly boost numbers, commoners and lesser nobles alike had been allowed
to join their ranks. The Old Order of powerful noble sons remained only in the form of
the First Order.

Because of this, he failed to see eye to eye with the other Captains. He saw them as
dirty peasants trampling on the honor of true nobility. Except for the First Order, none
of them could be considered true royal guards.

This was obvious to the other knights. Naturally, they took exception. Who cared if
they were the “First” Order? When it came down to it, they were a bunch of dandies
and fools. These dandies and fools grouped together to form political connections and
flirt with the ladies of the court. The First Order, calling the other knights unqualified?
A joke, and weak at that.

The air thickened with tension, and the assembled knights glared at each other.

“Please, calm down. Everybody, gather your dignity.”

Unable to bear the unnerving silence, one of the palace nobles spoke up. At his words,
the knights of the First Order relaxed slightly, while the others looked affronted. This
was a high-ranking noble, one likely to side with the First Order.

“Everyone here has made valid points, but at this rate we will never reach a decision.
Let us keep our honor, and respect existing hierarchy.”

Respect existing hierarchy? A not-so-subtle order to obey the First Order, who were
supposedly superior due to their noble blood. Amongst the Royal Guards, general
doctrine stated that the lower the number of the order in question, the greater its
power and influence. After all, it was unthinkable to have pure nobility ordered
around by mere commoners.

As the situation shifted in his favor, the Captain of the First Order smiled widely.

“It is as my lord says. How can we as Royal Guards forget our honor? In troubled times
like these, we should aim to inspire lesser soldiers.”

“Ugh…!”

The Captain of the Third Order tightly clenched his fists. He had been slighted and
would have liked nothing better than to strike the Captain of the First Order, but they
were among exalted company. If he dared to act out in their presence, he would
endanger the lives and livelihoods of his friends, family, and subordinates. It was
impossible.

“Captain…”

His subordinates glanced at his drooping figure. Their expressions all conveyed that
they were at their limits as well. They had to move as quickly as possible to save the
capital, even if they had to use brute force.

Looking at the assembled Third Order, he saw their solemn resolve to cross blades on
the spot if necessary.

(We cannot afford to let that happen…)

He knew that every Captain below the Third Order would follow. However, he could
not let them do it. It wasn’t an issue of morality or legality. If the Royal Guards caused
an outburst, the Decentralist faction would use their actions to disparage the king. It
would be best if such an incident was relegated to mere political infighting, but in the
worst case it would be viewed as a rebellion against the king’s authority.
Since such actions could potentially throw the kingdom into civil war, they had to be
extremely cautious. Still, he had no desire to let the First Order do as they wished.

“…My King.”

Charles the Eighth, who had been minding his own business for some time, looked up
with a start.

“W-What?”

His pitiful appearance provoked nothing but frustration.

“We, the Royal Guards, are ultimately the spears and shields of the royal family. With
all possible respect, I would like to request your permission to liberate the capital.”

“What!?”

“What?!”

A cry of surprise rose collectively from the Captain of the First Order and the noble
who spoke up for him. The First Order internally controlled the guards, but the king
alone had the authority to issue commands.

The Captain of the Third Order wanted to leave the decision up to the king.

“The First Order is of the opinion that the nobility, as the foundations of our Kingdom,
should be prioritized. In contrast, the other orders believe that the nobles have
sufficient soldiers already in place and that we should advance into the city instead,
taking the fight to the most hard-hit areas. As we are at an impasse, what are your
orders, My King?”

The most optimal outcome would be for the King to stick to his initial order to save
the city. If that were to happen, the Captain could order his men onwards without a
second thought. On the other hand, if he were to side with the First Order, they would
have no choice. They might feel resentment over the decision, but they would to a man
obey. As long as the First Order had no say in the matter, they could quickly secure the
noble quarter and move on into the city. By turning to the king for his authority, the
Captain could preserve morale. After all, their foremost duty and obligation was to
serve the king.
The Captains of the Third Order and below stood together as the First Order and the
assembled nobility looked on with furrowed brows. With bated breath, everyone
awaited the king’s orders.

“…Dunno.”

“Huh…?”

Who uttered such disrespectful words? Now was not the time to find out.

“I-I don’t know! Don’t know, don’t know! I don’t know! D-Do as you please!”

A man of nearly sixty years was wailing like a spoiled brat, spitting with every word.
Worse still, he trampled and kicked the pristine shrubs on the lawn as he turned to
leave. With bloodshot eyes and bulging veins, it was clear the king had gone mad.

“M-My King!? This is unacceptable behavior, My King!

“L-Like I care! I’m taking my leave! I’m going back to my room!

Ignoring his servants, the king walked back into the palace. He was tired of it all,
thought Charles the Eighth.

They had all ignored him. They were all the same, whether they were some order or
another, the nobles, or the commoners. They never cared about his feelings, and never
stopped cawing at each other like crows whenever they talked. He was the King of
Arquell, but demands kept flooding in. No one actually respected him. They only gave
the required courtesy, then sought confirmation for something he didn’t care about.
Never once had they actually asked what he thought about anything at all. Despite
that, they treated him like he was responsible. He couldn’t take it anymore.

It was the same for the Marquis’ centralist faction. All they wanted was a king to sit
quietly on the throne; whether it was Charles or not didn’t matter to them.
Astonishingly, the decentralist faction thought the same way. Most importantly, he was
ultimately only useful as a political weapon. These ‘loyal’ subjects even had the gall to
claim it was all for the good of the King or the Kingdom. Thanks to them, the noble’s
loyalty to the royal family grew thinner every year. When they raised taxes, the
commoners directed their anger towards him. He had no say in that! Really, he had no
say in anything at all.
(I’ve had it! I’ve had it! I’ve had it! I don’t want to be King anymore!)

As the king ran for his palace, tears and snot dripped down his face.

If everything had gone well, he would have already retired. His eldest son Ray, or
maybe his second son Philip would have inherited the throne, leaving Charles free at
last. What ruined it all was Ray’s assassination six years ago.

At the time, the centralist and decentralist factions were arguing over the matter of
royal succession. The centralist faction wanted Ray, as crown prince, to succeed his
father, while the decentralist faction supported Philip, as he was a far more suitable
candidate than his brother. He had made clear that he didn’t want to have a son be
made heir solely on political backing, but Philip as second son believed that
aristocratic support would give him a better chance. Ray despised his brother for his
brazen ambition, and the two brothers began to fight amongst themselves. As their
father he tried to mediate, but to no avail. When accused of being unfit to rule, Ray
denounced his brother’s betrayal. The atmosphere grew thorny in the royal palace,
and at last criticism was directed towards the king for his inability to end the conflict.

One day, the entire royal family managed to sit down for a meal together. Suddenly, in
the middle of the meal Ray spat out a mouthful of blood and collapsed, never to stand
again. His wine had been laced with poison. Suspicions were immediately directed
towards Philip, as the two had been fighting over the throne. Publicly labelled as his
brother’s killer, Philip locked himself away in his room to hide from scrutiny. Three
days later, he was found dead of the same poison used to kill his brother in an apparent
suicide. Many took this to be proof of Philip’s guilt, but Charles remained unconvinced.
It could have been a complete coincidence that the same poison was used, or even that
someone had made Philip’s death look like a suicide. No matter the case, he had no
desire to be the father of two dead sons, one a fratricide. He had loved them dearly as
his adorable sons that he brought up. The primary reason he could not end their
infighting was that he was unwilling to label either of them as the instigator.

Days later, the centralist faction accused the decentralist faction of instigating Philip
into murdering Ray, while the decentralist categorically denied any involvement. The
king wanted to get to the bottom of the matter, but his advisors cautioned against
excessive investigation as it might have incited rebellion amongst the nobility. Thus,
they brought the case to a close with the decision that Philip poisoned his brother then
killed himself. The decentralist faction consequently suggested to Lavallee that he
tacitly support a few of their proposals in return for the closure of all investigations
on his involvement in the matter. Charles the Eighth was unable to find the killer of his
sons, or even publicly show his despair.

Since that time, he had lost interest in the affairs of state. And, perhaps, interest in
worldly affairs in general. He stopped drinking and lost the ability to enjoy the flavors
of food. Music grew shrill and unbearable to his ears, and he festooned the walls of his
room with the portraits of his sons. Due to his weakening vitality, or perhaps his fear
of subjecting another child to a horrible fate, he was unable to sire any more offspring.

A King of Gray, unconcerned with the pleasures of food or fine art despite his ruling
over a Kingdom of the arts. That was the kind of wretched state Charles the Eighth
was reduced to.

“Sniff…! Sniff…! Sniff…!”

He continued to flee, unconscious of his labored breathing and disgusting appearance.

He wanted nothing more than to hide away from the world in his room. He could care
less about the fate of the capital. Let the rebels kill the nobles, what did it matter to
him? If the city was burning, he could not wait for the palace to go up in flames as well.
At least then he would have an end to his tortured existence.

He ran and ran. He ran from the burden of responsibility foisted onto him by his
retainers. He ran from reality itself, hiding from it’s inevitable grasp. Nobody followed
him. There was no need. There was no precedent in history for a king to run like he
did. Under the command of the First Order, the Royal Guards moved into the noble
quarter, as the highest authority, the king, was absent. Nobody else tried to take
command of the Royal guards, as no one else had the will to do so after witnessing the
king’s flight.

Charles the Eighth, King of Arquell’s decision, as it was, was to abandon the commoners.

From the low hill where the palace stood, the knights rushed down. The most elite
force in the Kingdom seemed out of sorts. Part of it could have been the inexperienced
leadership of the First Order. They had overruled the First Order and set out sluggishly
ahead of the rest. The other orders could have easily overtaken them, but the pride of
the First Order prevented them from being allowed to do so.

They marched as if their victory was assured, even though they had yet to even take
the field of battle. If the commoners in the blazing streets saw this, they might well
have taken the rebel’s side out of sheer anger.

From the rooftops, a shadow looked on. Covered from head to toe in a dark robe, the
shadow quickly retrieved a device from beneath the robe’s folds.

“Opus 05 to Opus 01. Opus 05 to Opus 01. Please respond.”

“This is Opus 01. Connection confirmed. Opus 05, please report your observations.”

“The customer is confirmed to have departed. I repeat, the customer is confirmed to

have departed.”

The mechanical voice of a young girl was transmitted through the device. After a brief
pause on the side of the receiver, a reply came.

“…Understood. The departure seems much later than expected. Did anything happen?
Opus 05, did you observe anything abnormal?”

“Negative. No abnormalities were found in my observation of the customer.”

“I see. They must not understand the situation fully. However, their tardiness should
not prove an issue. We have much leeway on our side of things. How many are
proceeding directly?”

“All. This concludes my observation.”

There was another pause. The receiver seemed taken aback.

“…All of them?”

“Yes.”

“Is that so. Well, that is acceptable. It should not change events too much.”

“Are you sure? I inquire. I believe this will be a significant setback to our plans.”

Wary of eavesdroppers, their conversation was heavily encrypted, but it entailed the
attack on Broussonne. The shadow held concerns that if the Royal Guards brought
their full might against the noble quarter, the damage to the city would be far greater
than expected. Depending on the circumstances, it was possible that the entire capital
would be destroyed. The shadow was asking if that was an acceptable outcome.

“And?”

The receiver replied simply. If she held no concerns, then the shadow had no need to
worry.

“No. I answer. If it is deemed to not be a hindrance.”

“Is there anything else? Opus 05, please continue with your mission. Leave the rest to
us.”

“May the fortunes of war be with you. Over.”

“Be careful too. Over.”

After exchanging rehearsed farewells, their communication ended. The shadow

returned the device to under its cloak and surveyed the city while moving silently.

“…”

The Royal Guards on their way to the noble district. No problem.

The rebels and the dying commoners. No problem.

The roaring flames and thick smoke. No problem.

There were no issues at hand. At least, not for her mission. Broussonne’s living hell
did not seem like it would be ending anytime soon.
The revolting mob in the city. The outbreak of fires in various locations. The illegal
trespassing of the noble district by the rioters. Due to the various abnormalities
occurring in Broussonne, the Lavallee residence was thrown into an uproar.

“Report the situation! What in the world is happening in the city!?”

“Look at the number of them coming here! Are they targeting some noble!?”

Lavallee’s retainers and trusted confidants were busy contacting the places in question
to gather information, but their progress was slow. There were two main reasons.

‘How is our contact with the palace!? The telepathy with the court magician…”

“It’s not working! There isn’t any jamming, but the other side is not responding! Could
it be because of what happened to Count Cartan!?”

“Grr… Damn magician, how can they let personal emotions interfere at this time!”

That was the first reason. Due to Lavallee’s ploy, the former court magician, Count
Cartan, lost his standing. The High Court found Cartan guilty of misconduct, but it was
already well known that Lavallee and Tullius Oubeniel had a secret feud and Cartan
was simply collateral damage.

The current court magician could no longer find Lavallee trustworthy ever since he
sold out a fellow comrade and abandoned him when the plan failed. Now, in times of
importance, he could not make contact with the magician.

The other reason was…

“Now that it has come to this, shall we call back the spies at the Oubeniel’s?”

Yes, it was Tullius Shernan Oubeniel. The culprit responsible for Count Cartan losing
his place in society and for damaging Marquis Lavallee’s name. A dangerous existence
who created so much trouble for a slave. In order to keep up surveillance on him, he
had split up a large portion of his espionage team. Lavallee had started the espionage
way before the trial ever started; the day after the wedding when Uni came under his
control. The measure to keep up surveillance on Tullius had backfired, causing
Lavallee to lack the ability to gather sufficient information in an emergency.

Thus, his retainer was considering pulling back the spies.

“No. Let the people monitoring Tullius remain.”

“My Lord, but this…!”

“Because the capital is in dire straits? All the more reason to keep our eyes on him.”

Lavallee looked stern. It was the timing. Tullius had taken back Uni and no longer had
a reason to stay in the capital, and yet, this situation was happening. He could not help
but feel that this event was connected to Tullius.

If that was the case, that man was trying to start something. That was Lavallee’s
prediction.

“We won’t know if that chap might see an opportunity and ride on the chaos.”

Even if he was not the mastermind behind the riots, he might still attempt to take
advantage of the situation. With that possibility in mind, he did not think it was the
time to pull back surveillance on him.

Lavallee’s retainers reluctantly lowered their heads.

“As you wish. However, our information is coming slowly…”

“I know. I will not find fault in the delay as long as it is reasonable.”

As he said, Lavallee touched a tool hiding in his bosom. It was a communication tool
powered by magic that he had imported from, as much as it annoyed him, St. Gallen.
He should receive word from the spies through this if they spot Tullius taking action.

And he had two of these.

The first was for communication between him and the group that was observing the
Oubeniel residence. The other was between him and the group observing the slaves
at the inn. Either one of these would report back if that person was indeed planning
something. With this, he could easily catch him by the tail.

(He was an alchemist too. Surely he would have a similar tool. There was no way he
would overlook such a possibility.)

It was a favourite trick of alchemist to make magic-infused tools. It was likely that
Tullius knew how to do it. He had already seen the report by the spy that Linus sent
to Marlan. Apparently Tullius had made a giant freezer. Aside from its usefulness, it
was a complex product that could only be created by a high level of skill. Thus, it would
hardly be surprising if Tullius possessed a similar communication tool.

Which meant that he would order the slaves he brought to the capital with this tool if
he wanted to do something amidst the chaos in the capital. Else, Due or his other
combat personnel, including Uni who he got back the day before, would take action
from the Oubeniel residence.

(I might have been overly worried… Well, just in case.)

Naturally, Tullius might be completely unrelated to the riots. The rioters have
murdered some of the residents and attacked the noble district… Nobody would bat
an eye if they were executed based on rebellion. If Tullius was found connected to this
incident, he would not be able to escape the death penalty. It was extremely risky for
him to try anything now. The moment Tullius’ plans are found out, he would face
doubts and unwanted scrutiny.

Still, Lavallee’s years of experience told him that Tullius was behind this incident.
Hence, he did not reduce the surveillance on Tullius.

In addition, even if he failed to deal with the violence that was probably incited by
Tullius, he would not be inconvenienced in the slightest. Lavallee was without a
position in the palace. The ones that have their responsibilities were the current prime
minister, cabinet ministers and generals.

Furthermore, he heard that most of the members of the rioters were some noisy
people called activists. They mostly came to the capital to complain about the
tyrannical acts by the local lords. The more violence that erupts from this, the more
material he could use against the decentralist faction. Of course, he would be troubled
if the King meets with mishap by attacks on the palace… but Lavallee did not think the
rioters would amount to much fighting power. Their security forces in the capital were
not weak and fragile. In fact, a bunch of commoners taking up shabby arms might not
even be a match for the private bodyguards of nobles.

He had nothing to lose by not taking action. As such, Lavallee could prioritise plans
against Tullius.

His decision was in some sense correct, yet in some sense, a mistake.

The activist started off their attack with Viscount Dorian’s mansion. One after another,
they broke in either from climbing over the wall or breaking in from the front gates.
They raised angered chants, trampled upon the plants and smashed whatever
sculptures or statues they encountered in the garden.

“Open up!” Get outta there! Corrupted nobles!”

“Come out obediently to pay for your crimes!”

The owner of the mansion looked at them from above, through a window on the
second floor. The Viscount was wearing his sleeping gown, as though he had finished
a meal and just took a leisurely bath. He clicked his tongue in displeasure.

“…What are these disgusting people up at my house for?”

While talking to himself, he held out his hand. A woman standing idly nearby carefully
passed a cup of whiskey to him. The woman wore a silver collar on her neck. She was
a slave.

Normally, a noble would not have slaves near him. They had to consider the damage
to their reputation if there was a person of such lowly status by their side. However, it
was a separate matter altogether if the slave was an outlet for their desires. This was
only limited to beautiful slaves. They were usually made inconspicuous on formal
occasions, though there were some nobles who would openly present their slaves in
private gatherings with nobles of similar interests. In fact, it went beyond presenting
and the slaves might be loaned out for a night. Just one facet of the degeneracy in the
privileged class.
Dorian was also such a noble. He set a high tax rate on his land and only attended to
the royal capital once every few years. He interacted with similarly degenerate nobles
and bought slaves. He was the stereotypical corrupt noble that these activists hated.

Brow arched in frustration, he slurped on his cup of whiskey. The ice hit the sides of
the cup and made a clang sound. The luxury of enjoying liquor with ice was reserved
only for nobles.

“How long are the nobles going to let these people do as they want?”

The men lined up in the room looked sternly at Viscount Dorian’s back as he said. They
were private bodyguards hired by this family. He was about to have his fun with his
slave when the incident happened. The representative of the bodyguards spoke.

“Yes. We will now repel them. So that no undue harm comes towards my lord, please
wait for us here.”

“Cut to the chase… hurry up and go!”

“Yes!”

The men quickly moved after being sent off by their master, who was obviously irked.
As they were walking in the corridors, one of the bodyguards asked.

“Boss. We finally have something to do but are we going to be paid as per our
contract?”

Their master, Dorian, was angered by the rebels laying waste to his garden. At times
like this, there were some stingy nobles who would take this out on them by refusing
to pay according to the contract. The mansion had been damaged, so you cannot claim
to have performed your job was the excuse. From the perspective of the bodyguards,
they were employed to protect the noble, so under circumstances like this, obviously
they should be paid. However, there were some narcissistic nobles who prioritised
their own feelings and refused to listen to logic.

The boss of the bodyguards sighed.

“Don’t worry, let’s go wrap it up. Even now, surely he would be increasingly angered.”

“Hehe. Oh boy, we might have picked the wrong master.”

In any case, it looked like getting paid here would be tough. However, all of this was
putting the cart before the horse. They would never have to worry about their pay
from now on.

“Sudden Death Inside”

From an unseen corner of the corridor, a spell incantation was recited. At the same
moment, the men’s chests were assaulted by a heavy feeling.

“Ugh…!?”

“Ah…! Ahh…!?”

They could feel a suffocating sensation, as though their hearts were directly grabbed
by a cold hand. Most people would be overwhelmed and lose their consciousness.

(W-What is going on!? Ugh, I can’t brea--)

The only exception was the boss of the bodyguards. As expected of a person whom the
noble had formally employed and had lavishly geared him up. He was able to escape
instant death due to the protection of the amulet hanging down from his neck. As he
writhed and struggled against the heaviness on his heart, an inauspicious shadow
loomed before him.

“Oh? You survived the instant death? I guess that’s what happens when the incantation
is shortened. How disappointing. Tch. Don’t get cheeky, bug.”

It was a person with a bat-like silhouette. He drew closer with unsteady steps like that
of a clown. One might think he was the god of death coming to claim their souls. And
that was true.

“Hm, guess it made no difference. Let the bugs stay as bugs…”

“Ugh!… argh!!”

The shadow appeared right beneath his neck.

“…Don’t step on me. Alright?!”

Without a shred of compassion, he broke the bodyguard’s neck. A trail of blood

dripped from his mouth. The bodyguard died immediately. And like that, the entire
Dorian’s defence force was annihilated. To make sure of that, the shadow turned
around.

“Well then. Now I just have to let those activists take over. Man… Master has thought
up such a troublesome plan. If he wanted to bring chaos, all he had to do was to tell us
to level the city. I think that would be 100 times more satisfying. While I’m at it, I could
pick up some lil’ ones too…”

He went on his way as he grumbled.

His body gradually transformed into a dark haze. Once he had completely
transformed, he slipped out of the hall from a tiny opening of the closed window. His
current form could only be seen by the dead, as though he was a vampire from the
legends.

Some minutes later, the activists entered the hall and were perplexed by the bloody
scene. But they continued with their exploration of the house. They found Viscount
Dorian and his mistress comfortably in their rooms and killed them. The Viscount had
chosen to take his subordinate’s advice and stay in his room, yet this was the outcome.

Gaston Justeau was extremely pleased. The comrades he led were successful in
attacking and massacring the estate of nobles 4 times in a row. Of course, they burned
everything to the ground once they were done. They could not continue to let the
castles of vice and greed stand. Without burning everything to ashes, the place could
never be purified. Gaston firmly believed so.

He wanted to watch the spectacle of a burning mansion, but could not afford to waste
time. The imperial guards could appear anytime now.

So before that, they had to kill as many nobles as possible. They had to set ablaze as
many mansions as possible.

With the burning loathe in his heart, Gaston commanded his comrades to set forth for
the next victim.

“Let us move, gentlemen! We have no time to waste! The evils we must purge are still
plotting their next crimes! We cannot let them escape! Let us quickly hunt them
down!!

“Ohhhh! We are with you, Comrade Gaston!”

”Who is next!? Who is next!”

His comrades were in a frenzy. Even though they had divided themselves between the
streets of the city and noble district, they still easily numbered over 100 here.
Everybody here lusted for more blood. For the blood of the nobles who enriched
themselves by exploitation.

Gaston responded to them and pointed at the next mansion.

“Look, the house of evil stands before us! Can you smell the stench!?… That is the
Oubeniel estate! The nest of the ‘Man-eating Snake’!”

The crowd paused in bafflement. It seems that the commoners were unfamiliar with
the notoriety of the Oubeniels. Many of them started whispering to each other.

“Oubeniel…? Do you know who that is?”

“No idea.”

“Whatever it is, since Gaston said so, an evil noble unmistakably lives there!”

A man shouted.

“Heard about it from a passing rumour… but I heard a brat from the family frequents
the slave market so that he could kill them for sport.”

“Killing slaves?”

“What for? Why would a brat…?”

“How the hell would I know! Surely the brat was a pervert!”
“E-Evil…”

“We can’t forgive such a shitty noble!”

The crowd’s anger reached a new peak. Now that the time was right, Gaston shouted.

“That’s right! We cannot forgive them! This is all a ploy by the nobles! Enslave us after
we fail to pay them taxes! Enslave us if we try to fight for our freedom! The destination
of slaves is that very hell!”

“Aaaaahhhhhhh!”

“Nooooo… Being killed for fun on top of becoming a slave!”

“Right! Surely you know of family who became slaves! Let me tell you how these
people met their ends! They are sacrificed to the demons of that family! With the
compulsion of the slave collar, they are forced to walk into the abattoir as sacrificial
lambs!”

“You are kidding me… my elder sister became a slave because of our debt problems…!
Ahhhhh!”

“Demon! The Oubeniels are demons! Nobles are all demons!”

“We cannot let them live! Kill! Kill!”

Kill the ‘Slave Murderer’. Kill the ‘Man-eating Snake’. Kill all of the Oubeniels!

The activists had a newfound justice to carry. The nobles who made the people
become their slaves. And the most extreme of such nobles was the Oubeniels who
killed slaves. They were now convinced that they had to execute the nobles who lived
in the mansion that Gaston pointed out.

The morale was overwhelmingly high.

“Then let us make our move! Even if we have to give up our lives, we have to kill the
Oubeniels! That is our justice!”

“Ohhhhhhh!!!!”
With Gaston every call, the mob cheered as they marched towards the Oubeniel
residence. With their backs facing a scene of houses burning, they marched on. One
might even think these people were demons from hell.

The two security guards at the front of the residence held spears. They immediately
raised the alert after witnessing the huge mob approaching them.

“The crazy rebels are here!”

“W-Weren’t they just activists!?”

“Death!!!!”

The violent mob swarmed the residence like a wave. One of the guards thrusted his
spear but only managed to strike some of the rebels at the front.

“E-Even if I have to give up my life…!”

“Ah!? How is this guy!?”

The spear had pierced the rebel’s stomach but he was still able to grip onto the spear
and not allow it to be released. Realising the opportunity created, another rebel
stabbed the guard. The two guards were quickly overwhelmed by the human wave.

“Die, die, dieeeeee!”

“Pawns of the demon! Die!”

“No, no, noooo! I did not…”

“Shut up and die!”

The guard’s plea for mercy fell flat and he was struck from all directions.

“What is this… What in the world is going on?”

“Like I would know! Whatever it is, kill them all!”

The soldiers within the residence were directly reporting to the Count. Compared to
the security guards from before, these soldiers were different. Despite losing their
calm for a moment, they quickly returned to their senses and stood in position.
Afterwards, they sliced off the heads of the intruders successively and forced the mob
back.

“Have you peasants gone mad!”

“Push them back! The Knights will be here soon! We need to endure till they get here!”

There were 10 of these fighting experts. Relative to the size of the mansion and the
status of a Count, 10 was a small number though. Due to the Oubeniel’s notoriety,
fewer mercenaries wanted to work for them.

“…Fear not!”

Gaston appealed to his comrades.

“They are the hounds of the corrupted Oubeniels! How can we be seized by fear from
such people! Fight! Fight to the end! No, continue fighting even after death, my
comrades!”

“Ohhhhhhh!”

“Long live Comrade Gaston! Long live the people!”

“For freedom! For equality!”

Once again, they started fighting back. This time, they were not as easy to kill. Actually
they were killed, but they fought fiercely despite dying. Some rebels who were being
cut threw their weapons at the soldiers. Others bitterly gripped on the edge of the
blade as they perished. There were even people who smashed their eyes and used
their blood as their weapon.

By abandoning their own safety and using unconventional ways of attacking, they
picked off the soldiers one by one.

“What are these people…”

“They have a loose screw! Aren’t they afraid of death!?”

Soon, the number of guards were halved and the rest attempted to flee. Gaston
laughed at the patheticness.

“Witness! The elite guards of the oppressors fleeing! Don’t let them run! Get them!
Until their blood is spilled! Until we attain paradise! Kill, slaughter, murder! For
freedom and equality! Kuhahahaha!”

Gaston laughed without restraint. With his one word, he could make these people
sacrifice themselves. And now, the nobles were cornered. He was immensely pleased
with the results. He was ecstatic to the point of drooling and having a boner in his
trousers. None of his fervent followers paid any heed to his strange behaviour.

(…I have become god.)

It suddenly occurred to him.

(Everybody followed my orders and fought to their deaths. Yes, I am the god of the
people!)

The start of his revolution was not smooth-sailing. Everytime he preached in the city,
he was ridiculed, had stones flung at him and was jailed. Without losing heart, he kept
on doing what he did and grew his base of supporters till they were big enough to hold
parades on the streets.

In one entire week, everything had changed. In one fell swoop, many people had joined
his cause. Every single one of them obeyed him. As long as he gave the word, they
would put their lives at stake to achieve it.

It was almost as though he had casted a spell over them. All the words that came from
his mouth became reality. The initial uprising in the city, and the diversionary attack
on the nobles’ district proceeded smoothly. The nobles were less of a threat than he
had imagined. It was equally as easy as when they were purging the merchants. All
they had to do was step into the building, kill everybody and set everything ablaze.
They only met some resistance at the Oubeniels but their threat is mostly non-existent
now.

With how things were going, perhaps, they could kill all the nobles in the capital in a
single night. In fact, they might be able to get the King too…

(Ah, good. After we are done with the nobles, the King is next. And as the leader of the
people, I shall stand above all… Hahaha, very interesting. People are such fools that I
must lead them. And then I shall grant freedom and equality beneath me!)

Gaston could not help but laugh as he basked in the possibility. He was extremely
happy. He was at the peak of happiness.

“You people dancing in joy, do it over there.”

The violent masses immediately stopped when they heard that. The voice was not
loud or imposing. It was perfectly soft. The voice was just at the level where everybody
could hear it. Instantly, only a man stood at the front door. A warrior clad in black
armour. On his back were two large swords seated in the shape of the cross. Instincts
alone should be enough to tell that he was dangerous.

He approached the mobs and grabbed the guard that had been pinned by them.

“Hey, are you alive?”

“Ugh… You are… Marlan’s…”

“Hm, if you can speak like that, you must be fine. Hurry up and get back into the
mansion.”

As he declared, he violently threw the guard behind him. The guard scrambled back
inside. The mob could not chase after him. After all, the warrior that stood in front of
them possessed an inhumane strength to one-handedly lift people and throw them.
Before such a threat, they could not afford to peel their eyes off him.

“Who are you, bastard.”

Gaston angrily asked for his name. Before this person appeared, everything had been
according to plan. Yet, with just his voice, this person managed to stop everybody here
and protect the nobles that should have been a sacrifice for their revolution. Even now,
he was still in the way.

He could not forgive this person. This person cannot be allowed to live.
The man replied.

“I am Due Schwarzer.”

He sounded neither boastful nor humble. This further irritated Gaston. The activists
have now surrounded the mansion and all that was left was this man called Due. Under
such circumstances, how in the world could this man still remain calm?

Due continued with more unpleasant words.

“You guys have come to kill the servant of the ‘Slave Murderer’.”

And then, he drew his twin swords and got into a stance. At the same time, Gaston
screamed.

“KILL HIM!!!”

He was the servant of the ‘Slave Murderer’. No way he could let a man who called
himself as such to live. The rebels that were ordered threw themselves at Due.

“Uooh!!!”

“Long live, Comrade Gaston!”

“For freedom and equality!”

The wave of humans tried to swallow the man in black.

“…How kind of you all.”

The swords on Due’s hand moved in a flash.

The crowd of people that closed in on him were cut into a fog of red. With his sword,
he had scattered countless of them.

“What!?”

Gaston could not believe his eyes. His forehead was splattered with lukewarm blood.

“Ughh!?”
“W-What was that!? H-Head!?”

Behind him, there was a loud cry. Some of the human bodies that Due sliced had
become stray bullets that hit the surrounding activists. Heads, limbs, bodies became
deadly projectiles.

Those that were able to scream were the lucky ones that were spared instant death.
The not so lucky ones were hit by these projectiles and died.

The person who created this gruesome scene gloomily murmured.

“As expected… hardly a challenge”

His voice carried only emptiness. He hardly felt any satisfaction from his display of
insane strength. Naturally, it was because Due was not serious at all.

If Molto, the wielder of the Swallow Blade Technique, was here witnessing, he would
give the following comments.

“There was no force, technique nor aggression. It was just for fun.”

The activists thought they had a revolution in their hands, but it was just a small
uprising to be quelled. They were simply just normal citizens even if they were
brandishing their tools of trade. They had never trained for battle, lacked experience
and were simply gambling with their lives. Due found it queer that such a battle, him
against a bunch of untrained peasants, could even happen.

If he went all out on them, then he would be nothing more than a kid. That was why,
all he did was to lightly brush away the people who tried to go near him. And in a single
sweep of the sword, many had died.

“…Well? Boss of the activists.”

“Eh!?”

Gaston let out a shriek after meeting Due’s eyes. All of the dignity he had as the leader
of the activists and the burning hatred he had for the authorities disappeared. He was
just a frightened peasant now.

“My job is to protect my master. If you leave, I will not chase after you guys.”
In the middle of speaking, some people, unperturbed by what had happened, rushed
towards Due and were slashed. Some others circled around Due and jumped in
intervals. They must be foolishly obeying the order of Gaston.

Or perhaps, some other force was at work.

“Long live, ―”

“For free―”

Their shouts were abruptly cut. They were meaninglessly dying.

“…So, what will you do!?”

Due became impatient.

“R-Retreat!”

Unable to put up any resistance against Due, he shouted and fled.

“R-Retreat…?”

“Comrade, what are you doing in front of the enemy―”

“Whatever… Anyways, we have to follow our comrade’s…”

Some of them were bewildered by such an option, but they soon followed and
retreated.

In the blink of an eye, the noisy mob ran away. All that was left were the corpses and
Due with an empty expression.

The swordsman who drove away the rebels alone whispered to himself.

“Boring… How many more times do I have to do things like this…”

In this place with an air filled with the stench of blood, nobody replied.
 2

Some time ago…

It was complete chaos in the Oubeniel residence. The rebels had overrun the front
gates and killed the guards. Ignoring what Tullius did in the past, this might have been
the biggest calamity that the Oubeniels have faced. The few fighters left under
command by the head of the family headed out to handle the situation while the rest
of the family paced up and down. Amidst the storm, Linus Strein Oubeniel grimly
waited for news on his sofa in the living room.

The young Count muttered under his breath.

“…How is the situation outside?”

“Y-Yes! The guards are valiantly facing off the rebels but, against that many of them…”

The steward’s reply only worsened his fears.

Indeed, the rebels had numbers with them. There were no less than 100 of them. He
feared that his defences, partly because they had less security members than other
Count families, might not hold up. In fact, the guards should be praised for surviving
that long despite the odds.

Still, Linus was obviously on edge. If he were to lose any of his retainers to these
random commoners, he might be the laughingstock among the nobles. The Oubeniels
would yet again lose prestige. The wrinkles between his brows deepened.

“Stop making that scary face.”

His wife Simone looked fed up.

“Aren’t times like this when the family head should be sturdy and remain the pillar of
strength for everybody?”

“I know…”

Linus’ face betrayed his words. There had never been a precedent for a civil uprising
in the capital. At the very least, since the day he was born, there had never been such
an incident. He could not anticipate it and did not know the best way to deal with it.
That was when a young man in a hurry appeared.

“My apologies.”

Everybody, starting with Linus, gave a sour look. Simone was the exception.

“Oh, you are Tullius’ servant aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am Laubert.”

Jean-Jacques Laubert. A person who decided to serve the notorious Tullius on a whim.
Most family members here had very low opinions of anybody working for Tullius. Yet
he was brazen enough to show his face here.

Linus gestured for his wife to step back. He made her discontent but given that she
was partial towards his brother, he could not let her coordinate any actions with
Laubert.

“Sir, what have you come here for? And I don’t see that person.”

Laubert’s master, Tullius was nowhere in sight. The only people with Laubert were
Tullius’ other retainers who looked like they were fighters.

“My master was bathing when he heard about the incident and quickly dispatched us.”

“Bathing?”

The time now was when most people would have finished their dinner. Not strange to
be bathing at this time.

“My master would promptly arrive here. Now that we are here, we would like to help
protect the place.”

“I don’t think I gave such permission?”

“Linus.”

Simone seemed to be reprimanding Linus.

If he were to deny his brother and his retainers here, he would be laying bare the
friction within the family. It was quite possible for misunderstandings to be created
here.

“…Well, I did not say I would not give permission. I just wanted to maintain the rules
of the family.”

Linus was trying to say that he was unhappy about his brother’s retainers making
their own decisions, but that just sounded like an excuse. Simone sighed. Even in times
of crisis, he could still behave so childishly. Just as she wanted to complain about it, a
scream could be heard.

“Ahhhhhhh!”

It was the scream of a young lady.

“What is the matter?”

“Could it be the rebels? The guards are still at the gates so perhaps… they broke in
from the windows? Or perhaps the servants willingly let them in.”

And then a maid in the residence saw them and screamed. It was entirely possible, but
extremely disturbing to consider. While all his guards were at the front, the other party
might be trying to sneak in and attack him directly.

Supporting such a hypothesis, sounds of feet shuffling across the corridor could be
heard. Linus turned to look at Laubert.

“Where are your fighters?”

“…Unfortunately, they were sent to protect the gates.”

“All of them? Are you telling me none of them are left?”

“Yes, all of them… Of which, there was a fighter called Due who was also invited to your
joyous occasion.”

They had been forcefully detained with the pretext of wedding and even now, Linus
wanted to borrow their strength…

That was what Laubert wanted to convey in a roundabout way. Though now was not
the time to exchange riddles. The feet shufflings drew closer. They had to repel the
intruders right away.

(…Can I do it?)

Linus held his breath. Linus had been an exemplary noble. And as part of his nobility,
he had been taught sword techniques in case an emergency arose. He didn’t think he
was any worse than degenerate nobles that indulged in pleasures or any average
commoner, but unfortunately, he had no real experience of battle. The retainers were
probably like Linus or had worse skills. Simone was out of question too. She did not
possess magic and obviously did not have physical capabilities either.

Speaking of magic, Linus was not bestowed with it either. As much as he hates to admit
it, this was one aspect where Tullius bested him. Annoying as it is, Tullius was capable
in other fields other than alchemy. Even though Tullius was only able to create some
sparks when he was young, and managed to get into the lowest seat of the Academy,
he was still considered stellar.

If Tullius joined forces, their chances of making it out alive would be much higher.

The moment he realised that he held such a thought, he wanted to punch himself. How
could he rely on the help of the one man he wanted to kill the most?

Not even funny as a joke. If it came down to it, he would much rather rely on his own
hands. He would rather die like that. Tullius was the reason his life turned upside
down. He had no intention to prolong his life like that.

While pulling out his saber, Linus made a prayer.

Please do not let me be saved by that man. He prayed.

His prayer was heard.

“…Excuse me!”

The door slammed open but the person who entered was not an intruder like
everybody was expecting. It was a maid in an apron dress, holding something with
both hands.

Linus did not remember who this maid was. Well, there was some maid that looked
similar to her, but he did not have the confidence to be sure.

After all, that maid he knew was not one to raise her voice. She would normally put on
an annoying straight face. There was no way she would be panicking in front of him.

Laubert was similarly lost for words, mouth agape.

While the men were stunned, Simone called out to her.

“Miss Uni?”

She was the slave that was taken away from Tullius and returned after the court trials.
The slave ignored SImone and shouted at Laubert.

“Sir Laubert!”

“Y-Yes?”

“Please take care of master's belongings in his room! It is an emergency!”

“But… What if I meet with the intruders later…”

“Are you listening!? Hurry!”

“Gulp! Ah, yes I understand!”

Being threatened like that, Laubert had no choice but to rush out of the room.
Everybody in the room was confused. They both served the same master, but the slave
was ordering the noble. Also, she did not bow before the Count and ignored his wife
too. While Linus had many complaints about her behaviour, he could not raise them.
Uni was giving the vibes that she might kill anybody in the room in an instant if she
had to.

Laubert, completely unaware of the gazes focused on him, laid the belongings on the
floor.

At first glance, it looked like a doll that had been packaged. The doll was like a male
adult and was lifelessly stretched on the ground.
Wait a second.

It was not a doll. He was breathing slowly, and his chest bubbled up and down. Every
now and then, he gasped in pain. The cloth that he was bandaged in was soaked in red.
This was a human. He was a human on the brink of death.

“Who in the world is th―.”

“…Don’t stay near!”

Uni called out sharply to Linus, who was inspecting the man, and seemed to be
protecting the man.

Even before feeling indignation of being shouted at by a slave, he felt fear. This slave’s
voice contained murderous intent. If he tried to even touch the person, surely she
would bare her fangs like how a mother tiger guard her cubs.

He soon realised.

The person that she was protecting must be none other than…

“Ugh… ku…”

He took a closer look at the person’s face. His brown hair was bloodied. His facial
features were somewhat similar to his, and everytime he noticed their similarities, he
felt disgusted.

Tullius Shernan Oubeniel.

The brother he wished to be dead was almost dead.

“H-Help me, Uni… it hurts… I don’t want to be afraid…”

Tullius spit some blood as he said. Uni grew angrier as Tullius begged for mercy.

“Ahh, my master! Do not say anything! Please rest assured! I will definitely save you!
Help is coming!”

Tears trickled from the side of her face. Between Uni’s crying and Tullius’ rough
breathing, the room was silent. Nobody could say a word. They might be the next one
lying on the floor if they did anything to anger this crazy woman. That was what Linus
thought.

However, Simone, who probably did not understand Uni enough, nervously asked.

“What happened?”

Linus gave his wife looks of surprise. What are you trying to do? Can’t you see that this
dangerous person might blow up if you poke at her? It was as if Simone did not want
to live any further. Luckily, this time Uni did not blow up.

“J-Just as I went out to have a look, m-master… Ahhh! My purpose was to make sure
such things don’t happen! And I came back really quickly too! Sniff, sniff…!”

More tears trickled down as she said. Most likely, an assassin came when she had her
sights elsewhere and Tullius met with mishap when he was bathing.

(Really… what in the world is happening…?)

Linus pondered.

The rebels that were attacking the Oubeniel residence. And Tullius who was attacked.
The obvious inference to make was that Tullius was attacked by the rebels. However,
this was extremely hard to believe. How was the disorderly mob able to catch Tullius
unguarded and deal a deadly blow to him? It was unbelievable that the likes of those
rebels were able to do something like that to Tullius.

Linus knew that this slave was also in charge of protecting his foolish brother. Tullius
was able to trust her enough to leave her by his side since his days at St. Gallen and
when he was at Marlan. She was so loyal to Tullius that she would give up her chance
to be a noble and would rather stay as Tullius’ slave. Ever since she was returned, she
started clinging tighter to him. How could she have made such a mistake even though
they were in the midst of an uprising. No way she could have left her master’s side for
a long time. The window of opportunity would have to be small. Also, Tullius himself
could use magic and was capable of protecting himself.

The assassin would have to slip into his house, search for the target, evade detection
from his skilled guards and fight against Tullius’ magic. A person capable of such must
be employed by a noble.
(Hmm, don’t tell me…)

A sudden thought flashed through his mind.

(…employed by a noble?)

Using the hypothesis that the assassin was under some noble, then it was normal for
the assassin to operate under the guise of being a rebel.

The conflicts between nobles were in theory, arbitrated through politics, discussions
and perhaps, traps. Still, there were cases where some would use a more direct
method ― assassination. This guy is in the way, let’s just kill him. There were some
simplistic nobles that would do such. In fact, Linus himself wanted to have Tullius
killed. Also, 6 years ago, the crown prince was assassinated too. Nobles who have
weighed the odds could have decided to send their assassin today. Linus himself might
have done so.

(Quite possible huh… But who could it be!?)

Linus slowly stood up from the sofa. And as softly as possible, asked Uni.

“Just asking, but what happened to the assassin that attacked my brother.”

“…I executed them. What of it?”

Her response was chillier than before, but the madness within it grew. The grief and
anger grew deeper rather than vanishing. This woman was well aware that he had
always wanted to have Tullius killed. She must have known that he was the person
that tried to separate her from Tullius too. If that was what she was thinking, then him
trying to call out to her while she was tending to her master injuries would have
displeased her. Her subzero gaze was truly terrifying.

Swallowing his fears, Linus continued asking.

“…Where is the body?”

“The body should still be rolled over at the same place. Is that all?”

Which means it was still in the bathroom.

Looking away from the petrifying glare, Linus spoke to his servants.

“I shall have a look. Follow me.”

“Huh?”

“Dear, what―”

Ignoring Simone’s attempt to stop him, he left the room with his servants who were
meant to be his meatshields.

Ignoring Laubert who he met outside and Uni who reproached him, he headed for the
bathroom.

…When he arrived, the bathroom was a sea of blood.

The sickening smell of fresh blood. The scent that he had gotten used to thanks to the
madman Tullius.

There were 3 bodies. Even with his untrained eyes, he could tell based on their
wounds that they were stabbed. They looked like butlers. They were definitely not
commonfolk that were incited by the activists.

And they were also not servants of this household. However, Linus could remember
some of the faces of the bodies.

“…”

While grimacing, he examined the bodies. He would have ordered his servants to do
this normally, but they were frozen in fear and it did not seem like he could easily get
them to do it.

He found a pendant hidden in their pockets. This too, was familiar. He saw something
like this on the night of his wedding.

It was a communication tool. People who could not speak telepathically through magic
or did not possess sufficient magic could rely on this item. Furthermore, it was
imported from St Gallen and was imbued with a high quality crystal that can allow for
communication at a further range.
Linus silently activated it and waited for a response.

Soon, he heard somebody.

“What is it? Did something unforeseen happen?”

As expected, it was the hoarse voice of an old man. So it was the deed of him.

He replied in a shaky voice because of anger.

“…Yes. As a matter of fact, I did not foresee this at all.”

He could feel the person on the other side making a gulp.

Under the cover of the darkness, he ran for his life.

The flames he had set alight continued to burn, black smoke shrouding out the moon’s
light. As they blazed on, their furious radiance seemed to tear apart the night sky.

Cowering like a rat, he dashed from shadow to shadow, desperately avoiding the fires’
light. The roaring of the flames and the blasting heat was horrifyingly reminiscent of
a massive beast panting down his spine. If he stood still for but an instant, he would
be devoured. Despite how ludicrous it seemed, his reeling mind refused to reject it.

----How could it come to this?

As sweat streaked down his stained face, his mind spun.

How did things turn out this way? He was supposed to the most ordinary of farmers,
the plainest of peasants, and the most common of men. There was no way he was
capable of such grandiose ambitions. No matter how poor, painful or ridiculed his
existence was, he was happy to just be alive. He had given up. By burying the remains
of his frayed dignity, his world kept turning.

How did he get here?

What had he been doing until now?

How could he have done such things?

No answers came to mind.

“Comrade!”

“W-What shall we do, comrade!?”

The voices from behind grated in his ears.

Tracing his footsteps were a band of fools, almost comically in sync with his
movements. As usual, they were following him as blindly as a parade of ducklings
behind their mother.

He felt trapped, driven into a corner.

“Comrade!”

“How long are we going to hide, comrade!?”

“…Shut your mouths!”

Unable to hold back any longer, he screamed in frustration. The crowd following him
immediately went silent. They truly were little more than puppets following his every
word. The rage in his stomach flared.

“Think with your own damn heads for once! I’m not your mother!”

As his words rang out, his followers running behind stumbled to a halt, confused
expressions painting their faces. Turning to look at one another, their absentminded
uncomprehension was palpable.

“Think…?”

“…for ourselves?”

“How can we…”

Faint whispers and mutterings filled the air, and the urgency, anxiety, and passionate
ardour previously visible in their expressions drained from their faces. It was like a
spell undoing itself.

“Just what were we…”

Someone in the crowd grumbled quietly.

With that, a collective chill ran down their spines.

Why had they come to this hellish place? Why had they done the terrible deeds they
had committed?

The only thing they held in common was the sense of wrongness, of something
missing.

“My, my… So that was enough to break the spell, huh?”

A woman’s haughty voice echoed down from above.

“W-who’s there?!”

Raising his voice to hide his fear, the man looked up as he yelled into the night.

The voice’s owner came into his field of view.

Resting idly on the burning mansion’s roof, the woman carelessly sat with her long
legs crossed despite the hellfire raging around her, casually looking down at the
assembled crowd. Although her face was entirely concealed by a hood, it was
impossible to mistake her as anything other than a woman due to her feminine voice
and slender legs. However, he recognized her voice from somewhere.

“You… I remember you from the bar that night!”

Exactly so.

A few days previously, her voice had been the first to raise it’s support during his
speech at the bar in Broussonne. With her words, the surrounding men had joined his
movement as one. That had been the impetus for the night’s revolution.

The woman sneered down at the pale and bewildered mob.

“Heh… for an unwashed ape, you sure do have a good memory. Well, it was rather
tough to orchestrate this little performance.”

She had a strange manner of speaking.

To hear her speak, one would almost believe that he… no, his every action had been
her pulling the proverbial strings from behind the scenes. That was impossible. He
had, with his own words, raised an army of brothers. He had, with his own faculties,
designed the great uprising. He had, with his own two hands, upset the stagnant world
around him. That was how it was supposed to be.

As though she had read his mind, the woman gave an exaggerated shrug.

“But my, what an awful train of thought. Well, nothing to do about it. Monkeys will be
monkeys. Wait, no. Maybe more like guinea pigs? It’s probably important to see just
how you idiots respond under these kinds of circumstances.”

“W-what the hell are you talking about?!”

The man shouted angrily, unable to comprehend what she was saying.

“Man, what a boring comeback. You simpletons just don’t get it, do you? Am I right?”

“T-That’s enou―”

Once again, a new voice cut through the clamor.

“Senior, senior. No matter what you say, they ain’t gonna get what you’re talkin’ about.
They’ve got nothin’ but shit for brains. Even if you told it to ‘em real nice and slow, they
might get half at most, y’know?”

“Exactly so, I concur. Finishing touches must be conducted, precious time shall not be
wasted.”

From an adjacent alley, the hazy figure of a man wrapped in black fog materialized.

From directly behind the crowd, a voice colder than iron.

Including the woman on the roof, there were but three of them. Despite this, the
dozens they encircled felt trapped like fish in a barrel.

“…Ah, I guess so. No time to play. We should end this quickly.”

As she said, she revealed her left eye from the depths of her hood.

Despite the glare of the flames, it shone a bright, unnatural purple.

“Ahh…!?”

Under her gaze, he felt his consciousness dissipating like smoke on the wind.

His followers stood slack-jawed, so heavily affected that their arms hung limply by
their sides.

“Oi, help me out here with the fragrance. There’s way too many of them. If we only use
my eye I’ll be sucked dry of mana before we finish.”

“Alriiight, coming~”

“Acknowledged.”

As they spoke, a sweet yet exotic scent enveloped the surrounding area.

The world spun and drifted away--

“Alright, here’s your last order. When a group of knights comes here, you are all to fight
to the death. For liberty and equality, was it? Hmph, how pointless…”

Before they could process the undisguised contempt present in her voice, their fear,
confusion, and doubt melted into the sweetest of voids.

The September Fire of Broussonne was forever etched into the annals of history. After
torching the Noble Quarter, the ringleader, Gaston Justeau, along with fifty-three other
rebels were summarily executed after putting up fierce resistance.

Surprisingly, the Royal Guards suffered no deaths, although the First Order of knights
sustained six non-fatal casualties.

Although the rebellion was officially suppressed, many thugs masquerading as

‘freedom fighters’ continued to harass residents of the city. In addition, during the
turmoil, some residents of the city slums took advantage of the chaos to loot.

Unwilling to tolerate such atrocities, local adventurers took action of their own accord,
with the Adventurer’s guild only being informed later of the incidents that occurred.
Despite the insurrection having been quelled by dawn, three thousand homes would
continue to burn until midday. Among these were ten mansions of the noble quarter.

Initial estimates put the death count at anywhere between six to twenty thousand
lives lost. Injuries were not included, as there were far too many to count, and
increased faster than they could be recorded. Surprisingly, a large portion of the dead
met their end by drowning in the river Amon. To escape the fires and rioters, many
had jumped into the water. Choked with the stench of ash and rotting corpses,
Broussonne resembled an enormous charnel house.

“Heave-ho… ah, ouch…”

As I pulled myself up with the aid of a walking stick, a sharp pain in my chest caused
me to stumble. Although my wounds had closed, I was by no means fully recovered. It
appeared that I would have to get used to walking with the pain for some time.

No matter how much healing magic or potion we had access to, some injuries still
required time to heal. Surface-level cuts and contusions could be regenerated
relatively quickly, but damage to internal organs or particularly deep wounds would
require more time. To fully recover in a single day from such injuries would necessitate
high-level healing from an arch-priest or a horrifically expensive potion. It was
possible for me to have my injury operated on and have healing magic applied directly
after, but we lacked the specialized facilities to conduct such a surgery. After all, I had
destroyed my old lab when I fled for Marlan…
“Lord Tullius, are you alright?”

Miss Simone’s concern was audible in her voice. To think she would show sympathy
for one such as I. Elder brother was clearly unworthy of her.

To preserve her peace of mind, I smiled widely.

“Please, do not worry yourself over my condition. I have closed the injury with magic,
so a little time for recovery is all I need. I am quite fine.”

Although I would have to endure the carriage ride, there was only another week or so
left before I could relax comfortably in Marlan. I was finally being released from the
long stay in the capital.

The marriage ceremony I had originally come to the capital to attend was long over,
and Uni had returned to my side. I no longer had any reason to stay, and an
assassination attempt had even been made on my life.

Avoiding the danger in the capital was a convenient excuse to use at this time. Also, by
the time I reach Marlan, it would be harvest season so it was really convenient in this
way too.

“Rather than worry for me… hm, how should I put this… Please stay strong, sister-in-
law.”

I spoke with some guilt. She tilted her head ever so slightly in apparent confusion. A
veil shrouding her face prevented me from clearly seeing her expression.

“It’s alright. Ever since my marriage was decided upon, I did nothing but worry them
constantly. In a way, they have found their peace.”

Her black mourning dress was a stark contrast to her recent white marriage gown.
After bidding me goodbye, she would probably be attending a funeral. Her parents’,
that is.

“…I offer my deepest condolences.”

The family of Baron Pontauban was met with tragedy when the thugs attacked. Since
it wasn’t their custom to exploit the common folk, their wealth was lower than that of
other nobles. As such, they made for easy pickings when thugs came knocking.
Sister-in-law attempted a feeble smile.

“My thanks. Well, I suppose we should get going.”

“Yes.”

I walked out while borrowing her shoulder. Requiring the help of a woman to stand
did make me somewhat embarrassed, more so if she was facing a difficult time now.
However, it looked like she wanted to do it. In difficult, sad and bitter times, there were
many people who wanted to cry and or lose their tempers. I, too, am one of those
people. The bleaker the situation, the harder she would try to bring the light of hope
to others.

This wasn’t a matter of if one way was better than the other. But I believe that by
shedding tears, one is able to pour out their emotions and let others understand you
better. Conversely, if one tries to keep a strong face, the pain and suffering inside would
stay bottled up and only worsen.

Well, I was honestly grateful and happy for her kindness. If at all possible, I hoped she
would find joy in her life.

“…What are you doing?”

From a distance away, a hostile voice called out. Of course, it was none other than my
elder brother. Whenever he happened to see me, his face would always twist into a
grimace. This time, however, his gaze carried an unmistakable hostility.

That was to be expected. His brother, who he hated more than anyone else, was leaning
on the shoulder of his newlywed wife. No man alive would be comfortable with their
partner being in such intimate contact with their nemesis.

However, I was heavily injured. This one was a free pass, in my opinion.

“Can you not tell? I am boarding the carriage.”

“It’s just a short distance from the gate to the carriage. Walk by yourself.”

How petty of him. Now that nobody was watching, unlike the marriage ceremony, he
was showing his true colors. My skin crawled in embarrassment.
“And what about your precious alchemy skills? Couldn’t you make a pill to heal your
wounds and ―”

“Linus.”

Miss Simone interrupted.

“Please, don’t make me hate you any further than this.”

“Wha―”

She stared blankly at my elder brother. It was such a shock that I couldn’t look away
from her.

Once again, her expression was covered by the veil. However, from her strong gaze, we
could tell that she was completely serious.

“From the night of our wedding to the morning of my parents’ funeral. How long are
you going to continue with this attitude? Give me a break. Or, would you rather allow
your brother, who was injured by an assassination attempt, walk alone? If somebody
were to witness such a disgrace, the baseless rumors already swirling around this
family would only continue to worsen.”

“…My apologies. I lost my composure for a moment.”

Elder brother looked down at his feet, unsatisfied.

What Miss Simone said was right. It was not appropriate to have this kind of
conversation before her parents’ funeral. Having this kind of argument before her
parent’s funeral was wholly inappropriate. Also, forcing me, an injured person, to walk
out of the residence without a helper would only add to the gossip if somebody saw it.
The nobles in the capital should have already gotten wind of the fact that there was an
assassination attempt on me. It would not be strange for rumours to claim that the
perpetrator was my elder brother if he was seen treating me coldly. Perhaps, such
rumors might already exist…

As her husband, he should have taken her feelings into account. Failing to do so, he
instead spoke boorishly without thinking, leading to their current standoff. For one so
prone to nitpicking, he could be surprisingly dense in that aspect.
“Well, this must be my elder brother’s way of encouragement. I have gotten used to it,
so please pay no heed. Please, sister-in-law,do not worry yourself over me.”

As I had no desire to sow the seeds of discord between the couple, I tried to mediate
the situation. At best I could only offer my consolation, but it was better than doing
nothing.

It seemed that Miss Simone understood my intentions.

“Lord Tullius… If you say so, then I do not mind.”

Mm, good. I would be extremely guilty if I were to leave the residence while leaving
behind this atmosphere. And, I was finally leaving the damnable capital too. If at all
possible, I wanted to end this disaster on a high note.

In due time, we opened the front doors and stepped outside. The traces of destruction
caused by the rebellion still marred the courtyard. Bits of destroyed stone and rubble
were everywhere. A destroyed tall-looking statue laid sideways. There were patches
of upturned soil where there should have been grass. I have the feeling that Due
caused more of the damage rather than the rioters though. Elder brother seemed like
he wanted to rebuke me every time he saw this scenery, but whatever, I am ignoring
it.

There were two carriages waiting outside the gates. Unfortunately, the carriage for the
slaves living in the inn were destroyed by thugs. And so, these carriages were either
newly bought or borrowed. Thus, these carriages have not been modified and the
journey home was going to be bumpy. Ahh, how depressing.

“…I have come to welcome you. Master.”

Uni came down from the carriage to welcome me. Uni and my other retainers were
busy procuring supplies necessary for the return. That was why I had to rely on sister-
in-law now. I could have waited for Uni, but I really wanted to leave without a moment
to lose, so here we are.

Now that the capital was in chaos, procuring supplies was a difficult task. If all hands
were not on deck, who knows how many more days would be needed?

“I am deeply ashamed to trouble Madam.”

“It is good. I am doing it because I wanted to.”

Uni lowered her head apologetically, while Miss Simone smiled unbothered. Truly a
wonderful woman. Not only did she treat me kindly, she was treating somebody else’s
slave kindly. It was rare for anybody in this world. From this, it was easy to imagine
how virtuous her deceased parents must be.

Miss Simone passed the role of helping me stand to Uni.

“Thank you for the favours you have done for me, sister-in-law… Please forgive me for
being unable to attend the funeral. Please do take care yourself at these times.”

“Yes. Lord Tullius must also take care of yourself. I await the day I am treated to your
tea once more.”

Hm? I was sure elder brother possessed more exquisite leaves for tea. Was elder
brother scrimping on tea for his wife?

Perhaps knowing or not knowing the strange doubts I was harbouring, elder brother
unpleasantly snorted.

“…Hurry up and leave. Make sure to stay focused on your job.”

Finally, he said leave. I was sure he wanted to say that I have no place in this family.

“Yes, alright. I will be sure to show you the fruits of my labour, Lord Count. Elder
brother should also remember to not always leave the job of managing the territory
to the substitute, and should once in a while return to the territory.”

I accidentally made some snide remarks. I had no intentions of calling this place my
home. My home is the lab and the hometown which brings back nostalgia is the island
country that does not exist in this world. So this was probably none of my concern.

At this rate, staying in the capital and doing all these pointless things would bring
shame to the Oubeniels. Letting somebody else handle the territory would surely lead
to terrible outcomes, won’t it? Compared to the predecessor, Linus had studied
governance, yet he had never stepped foot in Volden ever since becoming the head of
family.

…Even the Marlan that I was governing was part of the territory of Volden. Well,
whatever. I am just going to accept the chance to leave. Ignoring the cringy voice of
elder brother and controlling the pain coursing through my chest, I boarded the
carriage with the help of Uni.

The skies were covered in a gloomy gray. There were still parts of the city that were
still burning. The river beneath the windows was murkier than usual and the stench
of death was strong. The shores were swept up with dust and ashes. At the fire
devastated areas, there were children crying for their parents and mothers looking for
their children. There were people grieving for their lost ones and the anguished cries
of the burned. Broussonne looked like this now. The 500 years old city had descended
to such a state.

―How did this happen?

As the carriage wobbled, Marquis Lavallee lamented. He had never expected to

witness the city in such a condition. Aged and exhausted, he was wearing mourning
robes and was on his way to the funeral at the Pontauban estate. He acted as the
matchmaker for their daughter, so he had the responsibility to attend their funeral.
Also, he also had many things to discuss with Linus, the person in charge of organising
the funeral in place of his wife.

Using the funeral as an excuse, he wanted to discuss the developments of the present
and future, as well as the attempted assassination on Tullius. There were outrageous
rumours that Marquis Lavallee was the one who sent assassins after Tullius spreading
among the nobles.

The nobles were saying that Marquis Lavallee bore a grudge against the ‘Slave
Murderer’ for embarrassing him during the trial and thus, hired assassins to take
advantage of the chaos to strike at Tullius. In truth, there were many families
belonging to the decentralist faction who were attacked during the upheaval, so many
were inclined to think there was a conspiracy. Surely others would think that Marquis
Lavallee would make use of the situation and deal with his enemies.

Of course, all of it was complete nonsense. Firstly, all of his plots against Tullius were
mainly political plots. He was not at a level of desperation where he needed to
assassinate him. Yet, there was circumstantial evidence showing that he was involved.
First of all, the 3 men that had their heads lopped off by the slave when they managed
to stab Tullius were undoubtedly men sent by him. They were tasked with keeping an
eye on Tullius. His plan to have them keep a closer eye on Tullius while the revolt was
occuring backfired on him. On paper, these men were temporary hires for the Oubeniel
family. But nobles that were politically involved against him had recognised these men
as his spies. This applied to his allies in the centralist faction too.

Another pain point was that he had unknowingly spoken on the communication
device without knowing Linus was on the other side. Hence, the greenhorn noble,
Linus, had a strong suspicion that he had ordered it. Linus was not as foolish as to go
around spreading that, but naturally, Linus would more or less reveal some parts of it
through his behaviour and attitude. What would the other nobles think when they
pick up on it? Just thinking about it made him worry.

And the worst part of it… was actually stabbing Tullius.

That slave maid was an adventurer famous enough to have a nickname. Anybody who
had investigated would know of her fanatic devotion to her master. Even without
investigation, one would have heard about it from the scandal at the Cartan family. An
uninformed person might be curious after that scandal and look into it after that
uproar. News about an illegitimate child of a Count family who denied status and
returned to being a slave would have made multiple rounds among the gossipy city
dwellers. In any case, Tullius Oubeniel was being protected by this woman when he
was attacked.

People with shallow minds would conclude that this happened because Tullius was
being protected by a slave, and a woman no less. And then, they would laugh at Uni,
who was now infamous, while ridiculing Tullius, who was fine with being waited upon
by Uni.

As for those with greater imagination or adventurers with more experience regarding
matters like this, it would be no laughing matter. Even though she was ranked C, she
was a special individual with a nickname. It was reserved for the very top of
adventurers, the monster amongst adventurers. The assassins were able to slip pass
such a bodyguard and almost managed to succeed. How many people within the
capital were capable of planning such a feat?

Surely there was only 1 such person. And that had to be Lavallee.
(Hmph… only at times like do these bastards have a high opinion of me.)

Such assumptions were troubling for him and yet, many people he knew would believe
it. Chambrey had approached him asking respectfully if it was true and Langogne and
others were furiously saying that they would not forgive the guys who burned the
capital. They were indirectly saying that he was the one who did it. Mahrbea, who was
relatively closer to him, seemed to be half in doubt.

The bigshot Marquis Balbastre from the decentralist faction had also come forward
asking for an explanation about it. How could he explain it?

During the last meeting, they were discussing how to deal with Tullius. He had
explained to the centralist faction members that they would need some defensive
measures. And he did say that he had a high opinion of that youth, so he would not kill
him. Even if that was not the case, as long as he announced beforehand that it was
somebody else’s deed, then he would be able to refute it later. If not for that, then in
order to reduce suspicions, he might have to, for example, specifically criticise Linus.

Everything was about the flip side, the flip side and the flip side.

Throughout Lavallee’s entire life, this blunder was a rare one. The last major mistake
he made was six years ago, when the crown prince Ray was assassinated. Hmm,
considering the damage done to the capital and to his position, this might be
equivalent to the defeat they faced 50 years ago.

Coming up with plans to reorganise themselves would take a considerable amount of

time. He would need to regain the trust of the members from the centralist faction and
merge the hardliners and moderates in the royal court. He would also need to
cautiously pacify the decentralist faction, who are surely going to make use of this
incident to attack his faction. Money is also a concern since the city needs to be
reconstructed and affected nobles need to be compensated. Ah, and an investigation
on why the imperial guards were dispatched late. Apparently the First Order made
trouble so he needs to reduce their authority. In the first place, these blockheads were
not legitimate children nor were they capable enough to work in their family business.
Rather than have those idiots lead, he needs to expand the powers of the other Orders.
Lastly, plans need to be made in case neighbouring countries try to take advantage of
their situation…

While his hands were going to be busy, he would be giving Tullius free rein.
“Don’t tell me it was him…”

Lavallee muttered gravely.

Tullius nearly died because of the assassins and was leaving the capital under the
pretext of recovering from injuries. Who benefited the most from this event?

Without overthinking, the decentralist faction would have much to gain from the
cracks and fissures in the centralist faction. Next were the powers outside the
Kingdom who could benefit from their chaos. There should not be a reason for either
party to go as far as to burn the capital though. If it was brought to light that an
external country was involved in the burning of another country’s capital, that
external country would be heavily criticised. It was also meaningless to start a
revolution and have the rioters target a mere Viscount, Tullius.

What about the commoners? Ridiculous. Most of the people who lost their lives or
their homes were the commoners. The damage to nobles was hardly worth
mentioning in comparison. The activists oppressed the commoners under the banner
of righteousness but barely shook the noble society. While shouting that they were
doing it for commoners, they harmed commoners and left behind a ‘present’ before
leaving. Those noisy activists were real idiots. They gained nothing out of it too.

Then the only person to benefit was Tullius. He received a serious wound but survived.
Furthermore, he was now escaping the hands of Linus and himself, who were
targeting his life.

He was stabbed in the chest? Narrowly avoided death? Quite unfathomable. He had an
experienced master swordsman by his side.

“Uni the Silver Wolf”. She was the one who claimed that she had slain the 3 spies who
injured Tullius. From his investigations, he had come to the conclusion that she played
a part in Tullius’ slave torturing or human experimentation. After dissecting many
humans and killing them, it would not be strange for them to discover a way to injure
without killing.

Additionally, the rioters' movements were fishy. Just a week prior, they were just a
loud bunch of people making a ruckus. How did they expand in influence so quickly
and turn into an armed uprising? The expansion in their influence and radicalisation
of the members were all too sudden.
Lavallee was well aware of a similar incident. Yes, the creation of Tullius’ faction was
similar.

No matter how he thought about it, he could not wrap around his head as to why that
many nobles would want to have friendly ties with the infamous “Slave Murderer”. The
bizarre flow of events in the creation of Tullius’ faction was eerily similar to
transformation of the activists in Broussonne.

Now that he thought about it, the trial was weird too. Cartan kept saying the wrong
things and Tullius was able to bring out numerous impossible evidence. Even if
Josephine wanted to protect her child, it was unthinkable why she would team up with
that slave, a youthful and pretty girl who was the splitting image of her old enemy. All
the more suspicious if the plan would lead to her husband’s downfall. His trump card,
Anrietta, appeared to have gone mad and was of no use.

Brainwashing.

A cold thought flashed through his mind.

The nobles who fell into his plans, Count Cartan and his wife, the witnesses at the trial,
Anrietta, the activists and the people. All of them behaved strangely. So long as he
removed the possibility of magic, they were all impossibilities.

Also, Victor. Regarding that illegitimate child, as far as he knew, he was not inclined to
side with Tullius. Victor had agreed to pretend to obey Tullius and remain in secret
contact with him. How could Victor have not sent a single letter back to the capital and
focus completely on taking care of Marlan? It was even more absurd that he would
leak information on who else were spies.

He had no evidence. This theory was incredulous. If he randomly told others about
this, people might think he was becoming old and senile.

“I could get evidence by…”

He had to get his hands on that first and foremost. He might have to consult the court
magician, adventurers who were magicians and possibly, as much as he hated it, the
St. Gallen Magic Academy on brainwashing magic, especially the kind that relates to
alchemy. From there, he would come up with a new plan, find evidence and execute
him.
This would take a bone-breaking amount of effort. He might instead prefer to have
him assassinated… but that was off the cards. Uni and Due acted as Tullius’
bodyguards and Tullius himself was an expert at alchemy. Moreover, the Kingdom’s
nobles have increased measures against poisoning after the crown prince’s
assassination. This meant that both direct assassination and poisoning were
impossible.

However, if he did nothing and stood watch, that “Man-eating Snake” would devour
the entire kingdom. Currently, Tullius’ faction was considerably smaller in influence
than both his faction and the accursed decentralist faction. Still, their ability to grow
was on another level. Before they scaled up, he had to nip them in the buds.

To Marquis Lavallee, that abnormal alchemist was now a sworn enemy that needed to
be given maximum priority.

Lavallee’s carriage moved along the road by the side of the river. Along the way, two
other carriages passed by. The carriage carried the crest of the Oubeniel family.

“……”

Lavallee controlled himself to not glare at the carriages. He did not want the other
party, who was surely the person he had been thinking about, to get an inkling of his
plans.

The nobles who passed by each other in the carriage were headed in completely
opposite directions. One of them was crossing the bridge of Amon River and leaving
the capital. The other was entering the noble street to attend a funeral.

“Damn snake, I will definitely catch you by the tail…!”

The Marquis muttering, not heard by anybody else, was mixed with the sound of the
wheels rolling.

“He is gone?”

“Yes, he is gone.”

After seeing off Marquis Lavallee’s carriage, Laubert and Tullius spoke to one another.
They took a quick look through the window and saw the elderly noble stern looking
eyes, as though he was trying to suppress his emotions. Laubert could not help but
break out in a cold sweat as he remembered those eyes.

“Those were most like eyes of doubt from his Excellency.”

“Perhaps. If he was trying to suppress his emotions, then he must have private
thoughts which he does not want to reveal.”

Tullius rested his chin on his hands as he spoke. This means Lavallee had mostly
realised the truth of the incident.

“This old gramps really has a great imagination. Normally, nobody would suspect this.
That I would go as far as to brainwash commonfolk to commit arson and stage my own
failed assassination to escape the capital.”

Of course, thought Laubert as he nodded. When he first heard of the plan, the first
thing that came to his mind was whether the other party was still sane. Ah, but he had
no doubts that he was deranged from the very beginning. Putting that aside, that old
man must have an equally deranged mind to be capable of seeing through the scheme.

There were three passengers in the carriage. Tullius, Laubert and Uni, who acted as a
bodyguard and a caregiver. Compared to when they were going towards the capital,
Due and the other retainers were on a separate carriage. It was because their carriage
was destroyed in the riots and the carriage they were on were hurriedly obtained in
Broussonne. Compared to their original carriage, this one was inferior in both height
and length, making it much more cramped. Supposing Due was seated on the same
carriage as Tullius, he would take up too much space because of his large build and
his two-handed sword.

That was the superficial reason. In truth, Due could not think favourably of the scheme
and disliked the idea of being seated together with the culprit.

“My Excellency, how is the experiment this time?”

“It was a complete failure.”

Tullius responded immediately.

“The experiment to save manpower for the formation of the faction… The plan was to
use only the brainwashing scent and magic eye, without relying on brain surgery, to
convert people into members of the organisation. If it was effective, we would be able
to get human resources without individually operating on each person. Well, nothing
goes so smoothly in the world.”

“To begin with, high ranking nobles usually carry a magic protection amulet. But from
this incident, we can see that it is still very effective in inciting the populace to revolt―”

Uni added.

“―That being said, it won’t be good to use it multiple times. Especially so if the enemy
starts to understand how it works.”

“Mm. I understand. Additionally, we cannot control when the brainwashing might lose
effect. To think that the man would say, ‘Use your own heads!’, when he was pushed
into a corner and panicking.”

A member of the devils who burned the capital to the ground murmured. Basically, he
was one who prepared everything. The activists and the organisation that protested
against the evil governance of the nobles. They did not naturally transform into
rioters. Their leader was first brainwashed by Tullius and sent to the capital. He was
set to arbitrarily go on a rampage.

Needless to say, if they gradually prepared for a violent uprising, there was a chance
for security personnels to discover their plans. This was why they started out by
making it appear that they were idealistic and harmless. When the time came for them
to rise up, Drei would use her magic eye or the scent to rapidly increase the number
of revolters. They would ultimately rely on the element of surprise and go for human-
wave attacks to make up for their lack of weapons.

Nevertheless, there were elites amongst the imperial guards or adventurers who
could single-handedly crush the mobs. For such enemies, the mobs would be used as
a feint while the Opus series struck from behind. That was why it was necessary to call
not just Drei, who was responsible for brainwashing people, but also Charl and Fem.
Luckily, they did not have to clash with the imperial guards, though they were useful
in dealing with the private guards of some nobles. Their involvement meant that there
were some who died abnormally, but since the dead bodies were burnt by the fire set
by the rioters, it could be covered up.
With the finishing touches, Plan D, the escape from the capital by starting a revolution
and an assassination plan was complete. So long as his life was being targeted, even if
he returned back to his territory, the city’s public safety would continue deteriorating
and the nobles would continue to be afraid of the commoners.

Broussonne was burned for this reason.

“Surprisingly, there were many casualties.”

Laubert spoke as he took a fleeting glance outside.

They were crossing the Amon River which separates the noble district and the
commoner’s street. There were smoldering spots within the townscape facing the
river. It was so bad that they could smell the burning of wood and flesh from the gaps
of the windows.

“Well, it was because the order given was to minimally, riot violently. To think it would
result in such extremes.”

“After all, the imperial guards that were tasked to deal with it had argued over their
course of action and decided to prioritise the nobles.”

“Approximately more than 6000 died. I expected less than 1000 though.”

Tullius bragged but as he had said, those were terrible numbers. Ever since the
massacre to capture the elves, Laubert was worried that he would become
desensitised to the slaughter. Well, this man was not a person who he could expect any
normal emotions from.

“There were many people that decided to join in for the fun of destruction… Herd
mentality probably.”

“Yes, that huh? The voice of a single person in a crowd of ten cannot be heard. But if it
is 10 people in a crowd of 100, then more sympathisers would appear.”

“Indeed. The more people that join, the easier it is for them to entice others to join. It
seems to have had a greater effect than expected.”

There were people who jumped on the bandwagon to run around doing crazy things.
Tullius was somewhat troubled by these people because this meant that it did not go
according to the plans.

“The biggest miscalculation was that the Pontauban Baron family would be part of the
casualties. If there were any further mistakes, we would have been forced to attend
the funeral as well.”

“Luckily, sister-in-law was magnanimous. We were able to leave early today because
of her thoughtfulness too.”

They were able to discuss matters like this because it was just Simone’s family that
met with mishap. It could have easily been Laubert’s own family. If that happened,
they would have to prepare the funeral on their own and then leave.

Thankfully, they did not have to do such troublesome things. Even though he should
be worried for the safety of his family instead, this was the fullest extent of his
thoughts about his family. Part of the reason he was like this was the brainwashing,
though he had always been a cold person. In any case, he was the perfect retainer for
Tullius Oubeniel.

Hence he could continue joking like this.

“To think both of you were so capable in acting.”

“Acting? What is that?”

“You don’t have to feign ignorance. I’m talking about how you ran into the room that
time. Wasn’t it amazing? Especially when chief maif shuddered violently.”

While saying in jest, Laubert pretended to shiver.

When Uni appeared with Tullius, who was bleeding from the chest, she had put on a
dreadful expression. At that moment, he forgot that it was an act.

The person in question replied.

“Excuse me, Sir Laubert.”

“Huh?”

“That night, I had lost my composure. I apologise for any rudeness on my part.”
Uni’s head sank. Laubert was taken aback.

“Uni was not acting. She was really angered and crying.”

Tullius explained.

“By the way, I was not acting too. The pain and suffering I was going through really
made me think that I was dying. And I was stabbed by a sharp weapon without
anesthesia too.”

“I thought there was a way to stab that was less painful―”

“No, we couldn’t do that. If we did it half-heartedly, it would look like an act right? It
would be problematic to have hesitations and make multiple wounds. With that in
mind, I thought a real stab was better. That’s why I made a strong stab at a good place.”

“…If possible, I do not want to do that ever again. I felt like my heart could have stopped
then…”

Laubert regretted asking the pair of master and servant. In short, after she stabbed
her own master, she became angry at her surroundings for real. It was difficult to think
about the logical leaps that must have gone through her head. He would have felt more
at ease if he was told it was all an act. At the very least, a swindler was easier to deal
with than a lunatic.

“Yes, I do not want to go through that again too. Even if I trust Uni’s skills, having a
near-death experience is kinda… well, my motivations have always been to avoid
death so this is really not for me.”

And this man who puts his trust and relies heavily on the lunatic was also abnormal.
He wanted to avoid death so he was going all out on finding ways to live longer. It looks
quite simple on paper but he had gone as far as to burn the capital and have his
retainer stab him.

“It was a stroke of luck that Marquis Lavallee had planted spies in the mansion. Now
the gramps is made the scapegoat.”

“We had only planned to use the attempted assassination as an excuse to return but
managed to get an additional benefit from it.”
“Without that, elder brother’s suspicions would be placed on me, though now that it
is the gramps that is being suspected, it is convenient for us. I am also anticipating
instability in the centralist faction. Hahaha, spying on me has backfired for him. This
feels great.”

There were definitely many suspicions against the Marquis in the centralist faction
currently. Rather than Tullius’ assassination as the talking point, it was about the
capital becoming a burnt wasteland. The lords that were involved would have to be
penalised, and the capital would need rebuilding. Much time would be needed. And
time was the ally of the alchemist. He was building a faction and doing another
experiment… if those were complete, his power would only grow.

“Good grief, his Excellency is really a terrifying enemy.”

Laubert said and laughed.

Terrifying. This man was the real terrifying one. But his brains and powers and his god
knows where luck were all real. While he was merely a viscount, furthermore an
outcast of the noble society, he was able to outmaneuver the greatest noble in the
kingdom for his goal of immortality. There was a charm to his powers.

The kingdom would continue to change. The capital was burned to the ground while
the royal family and nobles remained idle, hurting their reputation. The commoners
would have a real grudge against them now and the nobles themselves would likely
crackdown on them harder. It was going to end up in destruction no matter what.

How would Tullius perform in the coming destruction and how would they carry out
the kingdom’s rejuvenation? Laubert’s curiosity was insatiable. He wanted to be part
of it too.

The birth of a new order after the old order collapses. For a person like him who had
confidence in his abilities as a governmental official, nothing more fascinated him.

Was the brain surgery causing him to think this way? The scary thought of that being
so was quickly forgotten as excitement overwhelmed him.

Tullius did not reply to Laubert and looked outside.

“I want to go home… it is almost harvest time.”

The scenery outside was caused by him and yet he could indifferently say that.

On that day, Nikola was at the intersection of the marketplace with his canvas, painting
the scenery. However, it looked completely different from before. The streets were
burned, the air was mixed with smoke and the stench of the dead, and the ashen skies
looked like they were about to cry as it stared downwards at the people. After the big
fire in Broussonne, nobody wanted to have their portraits drawn.

That was why he was painting the scenery. Painting the scenery was his forte. One
might think that Nikola was a corpse if not for his moving arms as he drew. He was
pale and his eyes had sunk in. Ignoring his countenance, he had many bandages on his
body. His dominant right hand was wrapped in a cast and he was exerting much effort
to paint with his unfamiliar left hand.

Still, not even for a moment did he stop painting on the canvas. Slosh, slosh, splat,
splat. He poured his sentiments onto the canvas. Red. Red. Red. Black. Black. Black.

There were only these two colours used in his painting of the scenery. The only other
colours used were mixed from these. What shade of red? Or how dark the colour of
black? With painstaking effort, he was able to paint a richly coloured scenery.

“…How about doing it over there? Mr Painter.”

A man stared at his canvas and said.

The man was an adventurer. On the day of the big fire, he had helped Nikola fend off
the rioters and saved his life. He had gone against the adventurer guild’s principle of
not interfering in fights in the city, and took up his blade with a chivalrous spirit. As
the casualties grew, the guild later clarified that they approved of such actions, else he
might have been punished for going against the rules.

Nikola showed no interest in his appearance. Even though he was his benefactor, he
did not look up. He also showed no concern over him obstructing his view of the city
as he painted. That was because he was not only painting today’s scenery.

“Your injuries must not have healed. Go over the top and you might hurt yourself.”
Nikola did not respond to this either. He was focused on painting. Unable to ignore
what he saw, another man, probably the adventurer’s companion tapped on the
adventurer’s shoulders.

“Don’t bother, Mr Gaile. This man is hopeless.”

He was trying to tell him that it was too late to call out to Nikola once he was painting
like a machine. Every once in a while, adventurers would be able to see something
similar. The girls who were captured and played by the goblins or orcs would be
mentally broken. Or their compatriots who lose confidence after challenging a
monster that was way above their capacity. Like these people, their hearts have
already died even though their flesh was alive.

“…How sad.”

The adventurer said as his eyes clouded. During the night of the big fire, when he
entered the tavern which had been attacked by the rioters, only the painter was alive.
The barricade at the entrance was destroyed, the owner and the customers were all
killed and the barmaid an outlet for lust. Nikola was left alone by the assailants just so
that he could witness everything.

The barbarians were vulgarly laughing while taking turns at the barmaid, who had
long left for the afterlife. The adventurer immediately slew them when he saw it.
Nikola was saved but he did not say a word of gratitude. The only thing he said was
this.

“Why.”

Why did the knights not come?

Why was he being saved now?

Why did he not die?

…Why did this happen?

There was no way to know what exactly he meant. That was because he did not say
anything from then on. While he was still in treatment, he left the shelter and was
painting.
“…Take care of your body.”

The adventurer gave up and turned heels.

Nikola was not the only mentally broken victim that was saved. He felt nothing but
sympathy for him but he could not help him quickly. After Broussonne was burned
completely and many of its inhabitants lost their families, the public security within
the city deteriorated. Since the slum area grew in the city, there were more robbers,
delinquents and shrewd black marketeers roaming around. He did not want to stay in
a single place for too long.

“Do you… Do you know what happened to my daughter? Ohh, my cute Anrietta…”

He passed a refugee who seemed to have lost it. His first impression was that she must
have lost her child in the fire, but after listening further, she seemed like the rumoured
woman who says nothing but exaggerated nonsense. He walked on without looking
bad so as to avoid trouble.

“Tch, what is going to happen to this city.”

“There should be plenty of jobs just from keeping the city safe during reconstruction.
It is gonna be quite irritating to be working in this kind of environment.”

“Seems like only the nobles are unaffected? Breathing all the clean air from the opposite
bank, dammit.”

Grumbling with his companion, they walked off. Their backs finally disappeared from
Nikola’s line of sight.

“……”

The injured and ill painter was painting the nightmare from that night. The group of
demons with flickering flames on their hands. The innocent inhabitants of the city that
had their heads smashed and their stomachs cut open. Pallid young ladies offered up
as sacrifices on the altar. A man-made hell where sinless people fall into.

Every stroke of Nikola’s was crude and warped. But allowed his painting to bring
across the truth of that day and stir disgust in viewers. Without considering whether
this painting was for good or evil, just based on its ability to evoke dread, it was
definitely a masterpiece.
Nikola continued moving his brush even after the sun had set.

A few years later, Nikola Bruneau’s grotesque painting took the world by storm and
became a masterpiece which represented the fire in Broussonne.

However, right before he received high praise for it, he overdosed on cheap alcohol
and passed away in the slums. Art collectors who loved it took painstaking efforts to
retrieve it after the painting was lost.

There was an exceptionally beautifully drawn woman present in Nikola’s crude and
unsightly painting. It created discomfort as it juxtaposed with corruption in the
painting. There were many theories as to who that woman model was but none of the
theories were accepted completely.

In any case, Nikola, a first class artist, managed to fulfill his dream of leaving his mark
in history.