Count Roden’s head ached.
There were dozens of reasons for the pain, but the elements causing his immediate headache were...
“Honey! We must strictly demand accountability for this! How could our child be touched and that man not be expelled! We need to demand answers from the knight order!”
His wife, who had spoiled their youngest son too much, shrieked at the top of her lungs, demanding the knight be punished.
Raised as the daughter of a wealthy marquis family, she knew nothing of politics and spouted nonsense.
Did she truly not know what it meant to confront the knight order—no, to fight the White Silver Lion?
...He had married her solely because she was pretty; he should have listened when his late mother tried to stop him.
However, his wife’s whining was something he could just gloss over to some extent.
He could appease her later.
But there were more serious problems preceding that.
“His life is not in danger. Knights are a race with incredibly strong vitality. However, it will take at least a year for him to recover. ...It might be shortened if we had fresh, 80% purity troll’s living blood.”
The slow recovery of the vice-captain, who was supposed to lead the territory’s knight order after succeeding the retiring captain, was also a problem.
The Pollet family was a family of knights.
It was a daily occurrence for free knights and mercenaries seeking fame to request duels.
Accepting them was their pride.
But of all times, one of the important knights of the territory had fallen like that.
And of all people, the knight hailed as the champion of the territory.
It was natural for the Count to feel a heavy weight in his chest.
‘Troll’s living blood... where on earth am I supposed to get that?’
They said 80% purity troll’s living blood would speed up recovery, but how could that be easy to obtain?
Trolls rarely emerged from the deep forest, and even if the hunt was successful, the blood would coagulate or become cloudy the moment they died, making it a feat to even secure 30% purity troll’s living blood.
If they wanted to obtain 80% purity living blood, they would have to bring along an Aura User.
Meaning, it was impossible to obtain.
‘My head hurts, it aches.’
This alone was enough to give him a terrible headache, but...
“My Lord, if you wish, I will bring you his head right this instant.”
“Father! I will step forward myself!”
“...Why are even you acting like this?”
From the knight order that should protect the territory to the eldest son who should carry on the succession.
They were all infuriated by this incident, ready to draw their swords at any moment.
Seeing this, the Count even felt dizzy.
‘Do these people not think?’
His wife, who knew nothing of knights or politics, was one thing, but weren’t these guys the ones who would protect the family in the future—no, further, protect Pendragon?
Or had they forgotten the very fact that the Pollet family was part of the Royalist faction?
If they truly didn’t know what it meant to provoke the White Silver Lion, it would be right to cut off their heads right now.
Because these guys would ruin the family.
‘...It’s my fault.’
Had his neglect of family affairs for a while after the three-year war with Britton returned as such a massive mistake?
To think there were only such pathetic people around him; he had mismanaged his children and his family.
He should have ruled them more strictly.
If he had, they wouldn’t have acted so brazenly.
‘Where should I start cleaning up this mess?’
The Count’s worries deepened.
...At that moment.
“-You seem to have deep worries, Count.”
“…….”
“Hehe, well, governing a family is no easy task. I understand.”
“…….”
“Why do you not give any answer? Do you detest this old man that much? How awkward.”
“…….”
—Count Roden couldn’t even breathe properly.
No, unable to make any response, his hands and feet trembled just like that.
Since when had he been standing there?
An old man, his back to the bright moon, walking slowly out of the deep, dark shadows.
On the outside, he looked like nothing more than a benign old butler.
However, Roden would never be deceived.
He would not be fooled by that soft voice.
Nor would he be deceived by that benevolent face.
How could he be deceived when he could never forget the catastrophe wrought by ‘that old man’?
With a trembling voice, Roden ‘dared’ to utter his name.
“D-Duke Albert...”
“Hehe, it is nothing short of an honor that a Count remembers an old man like me.”
“...Duke Albert! W-We did nothing. Our family has absolutely no intention of going against the royal family!”
He made excuses as if screaming for his life.
The baseless excuses continued.
That was how much Roden ‘feared’ him.
Because he was one of only three Aura Users in the kingdom?
No.
Although his martial prowess was mighty, that wasn’t why he feared him this much.
The true reason he feared him was...
“I didn’t come to conduct an inquisition, so please rest assured. It’s been so long since I retired, hehe.”
Because he remembered how terrifying his ‘former occupation’ was.
Inquisitor John Ray Albert.
A monster who ‘eradicated’ ninety families in the past!
And Roden still remembered.
How that old man used to walk around with a cross strapped to his back, skewering countless people...!
But he smiled.
As if it were merely an illusion of times long past.
“It’s all a story of the past. I’ve washed my hands of everything now, so the things you worry about will not happen, Count. The past is just the past, isn’t it?”
Nonsense-!
“...The elders who remember those days wet themselves just at the mention of your name, and scratch their heads until they bleed out of terror. And you say it’s just the past?!”
“It was the folly of my youth. Everyone has a field they become passionate about in their younger days, and the field this old man was passionate about was simply the teachings of God. Back then, it was my entire life. Well, now I’m just an old man who has burned all his youth and has nothing left but bones.”
“…….”
“Hehe, smile, Count. This is the timing where you must smile. Hehe! With such a poor sense of humor, how would you mingle with the youngsters.”
Albert placed his hand on his face.
One might ask whether the act of a baron touching a count’s face could ever be tolerated, but no one would dare utter such words in front of this old man.
Before he knew it, Albert had forced the corners of Roden’s mouth upward to craft a smile, and Roden’s eyes grew moist, as if tears might well up at any moment.
Each time his hand made contact, Roden’s entire body was drenched in cold sweat, and he shivered violently as if freezing.
As his lips formed a forced half-moon shape...
“Hmm, that is a good smile.”
Albert, saying he was satisfied, gradually removed his hand.
“...W-Why have you come?”
The Count asked while trembling with fear.
He had to know what wrong he had committed so that old man would never appear again.
“Hehe.”
Was this the correct answer?
He was pleased.
It was undoubtedly a wise judgment befitting the head of a family.
Thus, he decided to alter his ‘original purpose’.
“Ah, it’s nothing major. There is a young man this old man has his eye on, and I heard he recently got entangled with the Count’s household. So I came to see for myself.”
“N-No way!”
“Count. You are a fine noble. Unlike the fools of the Aristocratic faction who think the world belongs to them, or the madmen of the Neutral faction, you are a member of the Royalist faction who understands the current state of affairs. Therefore, ‘please’ ensure that this old man does not have to pick up his cross. Could you do that for me?”
“…….”
“Hehe, I’ll take that as your answer.”
Swoosh.
The next moment.
Just as he had suddenly appeared, he suddenly disappeared.
“…….”
Roden fell silent.
He felt as if he had been possessed by a ghost, but feeling the lingering warmth on his face and the forcibly raised corners of his mouth, Roden realized that what he had just seen was reality, not a phantom.
And the proof that he had actually met him was...
“...Blood?”
It was blood.
And blood that hadn’t even dried yet.
It wasn’t his own blood. Nor was it Albert’s blood.
If he had to categorize it, this was definitely...
‘The blood of others, of other people.’
A chill ran down his spine!
He realized a fact he didn’t want to know.
That old man had already been drenched in blood before coming to see him.
The blood of others, not his own...!
Realizing this, Roden slowly lowered his head, his shoulders trembling faintly.
He realized what would have happened to his family if he hadn’t submitted first.
Something too horrifying to even put into words...!
Bang.
“Honey, I’ll say it again, we must demand justice from the royal family right this instant, ...honey?”
“…….”
“H-Honey? W-Why are you like this? Honey...?”
“…….”
“Are, are you crying?”
The Count wept, and his wife panicked.
She had never once seen him cry during their entire marriage, for he was an incredibly rigid and steadfast man.
But how could she know?
How relieved he was that he—no, his entire family—had barely escaped death.
How grateful he was that they were still alive and breathing.
And so, the Count wept, while his panicked wife had no choice but to slowly approach and comfort him.
And the next morning.
News arrived that a total of six newspaper companies and the merchant guild sponsoring them had been engulfed in flames and burned to ashes overnight, and the Count silently picked up a wooden sword and went to find his son.
This was the conclusion of the ‘trivial incident’ that had occurred on a moonlit night.