Count Linco's eyes turned cold.
One day, an emperor who resembled a black tiger fell. The one who felled that seemingly mighty master of the empire was an exceedingly frail woman. She had given the count courage.
“Do you not wish to take the ducal castle? You can do it. Count, if you and I join hands, it is possible. Simply tell me a few things I wish to know.”
The count glared at his son with eyes shining with a strange light, chewing over each word before spitting them out.
“Do you think the history of naming lands and driving in stakes to claim them as one’s own is so very long? In the beginning, the earth was created, the sea was created, and then people came into being. The land upon which we stand has ever changed its name. What does it matter if I change that name a little?”
“Then you were involved in the death of the previous duke. Hetvi joined hands with the Saxon Empress, did she not?”
At Edward’s words, the corners of the count’s eyes trembled. It was a secret shared only between husband and wife, never told to a soul. He poured strong whiskey with a harsh glug and drank it down in one gulp. Roughly wiping the liquor from his beard with his sleeve, he let out a hot breath and nodded.
“I did. …Had your grandfather been alive, I would likely have died by his hand. He would have hung my neck himself above the moat of Richmond Ducal Castle.”
“…….”
“I did not wish to live like a loyal dog.”
At his father’s confession, Edward sank deep into the sofa.
The figure of the duke came to mind. Perhaps it was because of his grandfather’s blood. Edward was suddenly seized by regret. If only he had known a little earlier, or if only he had been but a little older.
Edward shook his head, casting off his thoughts. If it could not be undone, there was only one choice.
“Then cut off the tail.”
“…….”
“Pin everything on Count Ruwen and cut off the tail. That is the only way to escape this trap.”
The count sat opposite his son with a grave expression.
“I want to do so. But the dungeon is currently guarded by Rexton and Isaac. How could I possibly get past them, meet Count Ruwen, and win him over?”
“Regardless of who stands guard, is there not someone who can meet the count?”
At Edward’s words, the count blinked several times before finally nodding.
“I see. …Yes, there is!”
He slapped his knee as though he had spotted light in a pitch-black maze, then burst into laughter at his son.
“Truly, you are your grandfather’s grandson.”
The descendant of the strategist Eliza Richmond had cherished most began to sharpen the knife aimed at her neck.
For to avoid death, one had no choice but to kill.