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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Prøks]
[Proofreader - Kawaii]
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Chapter 44: Let's Go Extort Some Money from My Brother
Jeffrey reported his first meeting with Allenvert, his actions at the pier, and his behavior of bringing in petty smugglers before casually returning as if nothing happened.
“Hmm. What was that all about, ......?”
"Honestly, I'm not quite sure myself."
Jeffrey felt somewhat embarrassed by his vague report.
"While he said he wanted to observe the smuggling process, I believe that was merely an external pretext. I'm certain he was aiming for something else."
"Yet nothing happened."
"Yes. He merely hinted at a meetup without specific plans with a smuggler named Kimret at a place called 'Nasrak Inn'."
"Nasrak Inn."
The head butler wrote it down in his notebook.
"I'll investigate this Kimret centered around this location."
Jeffrey's expression turned peculiar.
"What is it?"
"The young master said he doubts he'll meet this person again. Because the family will investigate."
"...Is that so?"
The head butler furrowed his brows.
'If he anticipated this, is this some kind of bait? But for what?'
He had succeeded in inferring Allenvert's true intent. However, he couldn't guess what this bait was for.
"That was all. He said everything was done and we should go back."
"From what I hear, it seems you had several conflicts with the young master."
The head butler asked.
"Yes. Each time, he would remind me of his status and insist on his opinion."
"Really?"
"Yes. I felt like he was trying to provoke me at every turn."
This was distinctly different from how he treated the tutor or other servants. With them, he had quickly won their hearts with his unique character.
"Did you perhaps mention that I personally selected you?"
"Yes."
"Perhaps that's the reason."
The head butler thought Allenvert had a multi-layered calculation.
'He didn't simply accept it out of goodwill. He must have suspected the underlying intention.'
Whether it was surveillance or a test.
"Now, tell me about the attack by the thugs."
"Yes."
While listening seriously to Jeffrey's story, the head butler couldn't help but laugh when he heard Allenvert's provocative remarks.
"Ridiculous. Just like with Young Master Barclava, he can play with someone's mind with just a few words."
"If I were in his position, I would have fallen into his trap."
"What remarkable eloquence."
"But even more remarkable was his physical movement. It wasn't simply about having abundant mana, being skilled in martial arts, or deeply trained in swordsmanship... It was completely different."
"Meaning?"
"He's naturally talented in combat itself. He has an innate ability in the realm of fighting. That's the impression I got."
"Coming from you of all people, that's impressive."
Jeffrey was a young Royal Guard who had received significant attention for his talents. Yet he was recalling Allenvert's fighting as if he had witnessed something inexplicable.
"Even in front of an enemy's blade, he moved as gracefully as a butterfly. He didn't swing his sword particularly fast or strong, yet the enemies fell like autumn leaves. Like a great master warming up against novices..."
"In other words, a genius?"
"Yes. The young master is a genius."
Seeing Jeffrey's definitive statement, the head butler spoke.
"You're also a talented warrior. Your heart races after seeing outstanding martial talent too."
"Yes."
Jeffrey smiled.
"I wonder if this is how Young Master Verdzig might have been in his childhood."
"Quite the high praise."
The head butler laughed inwardly. Though he had a wry expression when discussing Allenvert's eccentricities, his eyes were now sparkling.
"Be honest. Didn't you dislike him at first?"
"I can't lie in front of you."
Jeffrey candidly admitted, like a true warrior.
"I wondered why you sent me, why this person is attracting so much attention that he's stirring up the castle these days."
"And now?"
"...Hmm."
Jeffrey avoided answering.
"The young master readily accepted our apology even though we were negligent in our protection. It was quite embarrassing."
"Mm. I should be the one apologizing for issuing the command, not you."
The head butler looked at Jeffrey and continued.
"Jeffrey, I actually have something to tell you."
Jeffrey straightened his posture.
"Please speak."
"As you know, Young Master Allenvert now needs protection too. If you think he's someone worth serving..."
"Hmm."
"Think about it and let me know. I won't rush you right now."
"May I ask one thing?"
"Of course."
"Why me?"
The head butler answered as if it was the most obvious thing.
"I believe you have sufficient skills and loyalty to support him."
It wasn't a statement made simply because he had known Jeffrey since childhood.
"It's also the head butler's duty to arrange an appropriate servant for the Grunewald young masters who might potentially succeed."
Karl, Verdzig, Ulbhild, Somerset, Barclava.
Their servant had also been carefully selected under his and Duke Georg's arrangement.
"...I'll think about it."
"Good job."
As Jeffrey left after receiving his dismissal, the head butler thought.
'Consent is just a matter of time.'
He was already half-won over by Allenvert. Yet Jeffrey didn't give an immediate answer, nor did his eyes light up eager to seize the opportunity. It was this very prudence that made the head butler choose Jeffrey.
'By the way.'
The head butler thought about Somerset, the third young master who was most likely behind this incident.
'Pranks should be done with consideration of the circumstances.'
Sending such a clumsy attack to the Grunewald young master? This wasn't something that could be simply overlooked.
Moreover, with the prisoners already in the Royal Guards' custody, if they were to confess their crimes, Somerset would be in serious trouble.
'Are you so lacking in judgment? What on earth were you trying to achieve? Simply out of bad mood?'
...If that's the case, Somerset truly lacks the capacity to govern this Grunewald.
***
"Those damn idiots."
Somerset paced anxiously, biting his nails.
"I shouldn't have entrusted the task to such bottom-feeding trash."
Despite his butler's dissuasion, he had initiated the incident himself, though such facts had long been forgotten in his mind.
He never truly believed sending such mediocre individuals would kill or harm Allenvert.
He merely wanted to humiliate his younger brother as he had done in their childhood. ...Just as he often did back then.
In those days, Allenvert would simply leave without saying anything when Somerset bullied him.
'He was always just pretending to be good.'
When Allenvert went into seclusion after the collapse of his maternal family and receiving a terminal diagnosis, Somerset had secretly felt a sense of satisfaction.
During the first year, he would occasionally send people to torment Allenvert, but as the seclusion dragged on, he eventually stopped.
In any case, Allenvert had never once fought back or confronted his attacks. So what was happening now?
'Cutting off a wrist without hesitation, slitting a throat?'
The eyewitness accounts were quite chilling.
'Crazy bastard.'
He was unsettled by the fact that he couldn't understand Allenvert. He had noticed a slight madness in his eyes during the banquet, but never imagined he would so decisively be willing to kill.
'Is this a warning to me? Or has he truly gone mad?'
He wanted to believe it was the latter, but hadn't he already been thoroughly shaken by Allenvert's calculations at the banquet?
'A warning? How presumptuous. Daring to warn me?'
Allenvert was exactly as expected.
'...Just like Brother Verdzig.'
They shared one commonality: they were too terrifying to be considered mere enemies.
However, Somerset refused to acknowledge this fact.
"What did that punk say?"
He was supposedly at the third tier's entry level. He had only recently started martial arts and hadn't even learned proper swordsmanship yet, as his father hadn't permitted it.
So what was so frightening about killing a few street thugs? If he were to grab a sword and confront Allenvert now, he could crush him like an ant. Couldn't he?
"...Whew."
Embracing a murderous and venomous mindset paradoxically calmed Somerset's heart. He had reaffirmed his superiority.
"Somerset. Are you there?"
Suddenly, Bianca Grunewald, Somerset's mother, burst in without warning.
"Oh, mother."
Slap!
Somerset's fierce bear-like face was struck, turning sharply by his mother, who was twice as slender.
"Didn't I tell you not to act rashly?"
"...!"
A surge of anger welled up inside him, but he couldn't raise his voice to his mother.
"Are you out of your mind? Don't you realize your reckless actions could implicate you?"
"……."
Facing her cold, dripping voice, Somerset couldn't respond with his previous casual attitude of lightly using people to torment his brother. Even he recognized how foolish the reason was.
"The prisoners have already been subjected to harsh interrogation by the guards to extract information about the perpetrators."
"...!"
Somerset's face suddenly lost all color.
"What do you think will happen if your father hears about this?"
"W-well, that..."
"You didn't think about it, did you? Just another stupid, casual attempt to harass someone."
Bianca's words perfectly dissected Somerset's psychology, leaving him deflated. His conversations with his mother always followed this pattern.
"Is there any possibility that the person who commissioned this could be traced back to you?"
Somerset finally responded emphatically, "Absolutely not."
"So? Is that all? Will you just leave it like this?"
"Ah."
"How foolish."
Bianca sighed, looking at her large but still young and immature son.
"I've already taken care of it."
"What did you do?"
"Do I really need to explain the obvious? I've cut off the tail."
"!"
Somerset didn't dare ask further. But her words likely meant she had killed the perpetrators.
"With the connection severed, the investigation won't be easy."
Bianca spoke coldly.
"But we were this close to disaster."
"I'm ashamed."
"If you understand, then consult me before taking action in the future."
"……."
Somerset responded with a complicated expression.
"Understood."
Though irritated at being slapped for what he considered a minor prank, this resolution was the best outcome.
'That bastard.'
For now, he decided he needed to be more careful.
'Just wait. One day I'll pour boiling oil on that face.'
...Some feelings of inferiority burn without any context.
* * *
I returned and washed away the blood. It took quite a while to clean.
"Refreshing."
After applying cologne and changing clothes, I stepped out and looked in the mirror. Of course, my face was no different from yesterday or today. What had changed was only my inner state.
Today, I committed my first killing as Allenvert. Though for Karzan, it was a familiar act.
'Indeed.'
Accumulating a kill is not a pleasant experience. But I had no intention of avoiding it.
My unhesitating neck strike and hand severing would surely chill the smuggler's liver. That's undoubtedly true. This was for that purpose, and it was also legitimate self-defense against someone who first showed murderous intent.
'But I don't enjoy killing.'
Whenever possible, I prefer not to kill unless absolutely necessary.
Having taken up a sword means inevitably shedding blood. But I won't accumulate unnecessary karmic burden.
"...Are you alright, young master?"
Peter asked cautiously, seemingly concerned about my expression.
"What?"
"Well, about what happened earlier..."
Though we didn't discuss it at the scene, Peter seemed worried.
"I'm fine. When I come of age and enter the military, I'll have to shed far more blood than this."
"Oh, but still..."
"If you want to live with a soft heart, you might as well read books or count money."
Those who become paralyzed before the karma of killing will only find their own necks at risk.
How many knights with superior martial abilities have died meaninglessly due to weak resolve? I'm not stupid enough to repeat such mistakes.
'I'm not a saint. I can't die for others.'
This was Karzan's survival philosophy. And nothing has changed now. I looked down at my palm, wounded from wielding the sword.
'The wound stings.'
I had to call Joseph again to treat the injury that had been aggravated.
'I wonder if our father still has no intention of teaching me swordsmanship?'
I'll go crazy waiting. What on earth is he thinking?
'If he keeps delaying like this, I'll have my own ideas too.'
I had never formally learned swordsmanship from a master. Instead, I'm more accustomed to stealing techniques by sparring with guards and knights.
'Keep this up, and I'll become a vagrant.'
I gazed at the sunset by the window. The sea was turning red. Dinnertime was approaching.
But there was something to do before that.
"Olivier will take some time to return?"
"Ah, yes. Because of today's events, explaining the situation and cleaning up will take so long he might not even have time to eat..."
"Excellent. Fulfilling a butler's duties."
In any case, now was the perfect time with no one to nag me.
"Peter. Follow me."
"What? Right after washing up, where are we going again?"
"Not far."
I smiled and said,
"I'm going to visit our brother Somerset."
"Why Young Master Somerset?"
"Why?"
After stirring up trouble behind the scenes and then sleeping comfortably, I can't let that slide.
"I'm going to extort some money from him."
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Prøks]
[Proofreader - Kawaii]
Join our Discord for release updates!
https://discord.com/invite/dbdMDhzWa2
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