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Chapter 30
It was a relief he had used his remaining subordinates as shields. Otherwise, he would’ve been torn apart long ago.
Shuddering, Belgot opened his pouch. A bottle of pale sky-blue liquid shimmered faintly under the moonlight.
At least I managed to bring these.
High-grade potions were extremely rare—almost as valuable as currency itself. Usually, such potions were auctioned off, fetching outrageous prices.
Twenty bottles in total.
The quantity was smaller than expected, but still—twenty bottles. Even if he abandoned his base, that amount would be enough to live in luxury for the rest of his life.
Of course, he was supposed to hand them over to him, but surely he’d be allowed to keep one bottle for himself?
As he entertained that hopeful thought, Belgot let out a sly grin.
Then—
“!”
Thud! Thud!
Something heavy dropped onto the top of the carriage twice.
Startled, Belgot quickly drew his dagger.
What was that?
He swallowed dryly.
They had already been traveling deep within the forest for quite some time. Just a little farther, and they’d reach the main road—where he planned to switch to another carriage.
He only needed to hold out a bit longer…!
“Where do you think you’re running off to?”
“!”
Belgot immediately unleashed his mana, but before he could even counterattack, his breath was choked off.
“Guhk!”
Clatter—
His dagger fell and rolled into the corner, and his pouch of potions hit the floor with a dull thud. Clutching his throat, Belgot struggled desperately.
While Gilbert pinned the man down, Felix lightly kicked in the closed window.
“What a pain.”
He climbed inside with ease, frowning as he looked down.
“Kh… guh!”
“You were going to get caught anyway. Would’ve been better if you’d just given up earlier.”
Felix clicked his tongue.
The look on his face—like a demon just emerged from hell—made Belgot tremble violently.
A moment later, a yellow stain spread down his trouser leg.
“Take him away.”
The nobleman who fainted at the sight of the scene was dragged off by the knights. Winston, scoffing, turned to look at Maytal, who blinked in a daze.
“It’s really… Your Excellency?”
“Who else would it be?”
“Oh, my goodness.”
Same face as Felix, same ruined social skills, same cold tone, same atmosphere… even the air pressure was identical.
It had to be him!
“Lord Duke!”
Winston was right!
“Where have you been all this time! We scoured Angelo from top to bottom, and not even a hair of yours could be found! Do you know how worried the young master and I were?”
“Don’t cry. It’s unsightly.”
“Sniff… I’ll cry anyway! Just seeing you return safely has already fulfilled all the regrets of my life—huh?”
In the middle of his crocodile tears, Maytal’s eyes widened like saucers.
Following Winston inside was a man carrying an unconscious assassin over his shoulder. He dropped the body onto the floor.
“F-Father?”
“Ah, my boy. Been well?”
It was Dion—Maytal’s father and the duke’s direct aide. He waved cheerfully despite being splattered with blood.
Startled, Maytal glanced back and forth between him and the duke, his eyes trembling.
“W-Why… why are you two together?”
“Because we’ve been together the whole time, obviously.”
Maytal fell silent, speechless.
“Then… that means…”
“What you’re thinking is right, Maytal.”
Dion grinned.
“It was all top secret. I couldn’t tell you beforehand.”
Sorry!
He apologized boldly, then burst into hearty laughter—but soon, he glanced nervously at his son.
Sure enough—
“So you already knew before I even reported it? And you didn’t tell me anything?”
Maytal’s lips curled into a thin, dangerous smile as he tightened his grip on his sword. Sensing imminent danger, Dion quickly redirected the blame.
“It—it was His Excellency’s order! You know what he’s like!”
“……”
“You know his personality better than anyone!”
At that, Winston shot him a sharp glare. Dion flinched and coughed awkwardly.
“A-Anyway, looks like we’ve got work to do.”
They had wanted to arrive sooner, but the Black Cat assassins had been lying in wait, blocking the entire entrance. At least it provided a convenient excuse.
Still, if they’d been any later, the nobles would’ve been the ones causing chaos instead of the assassins.
“Haa…”
Suppressing his irritation and anger, Maytal turned to face the nobles.
They flinched in unison. Upon seeing Winston, they immediately froze like frightened mice.
Even though House Cazliden had been expelled from the Imperial Court, this was Proud—their own territory.
Then Winston moved.
As the enormous man stepped forward, the nobles flinched again. Dion hastily interjected.
“Your Excellency! Please, no intimidation!”
Winston said nothing.
Instead, he turned and smirked.
Oh no, he’s going to do it anyway, Dion realized instinctively.
Well, at least he’s not killing anyone. That’s already progress.
If Winston had really wanted chaos, he would’ve done it long ago.
Dion mentally picked out a few statues and jewels to hand over as “gifts” to the nobles. Maytal might have been inexperienced in large-scale negotiations, but Dion wasn’t.
When it came to bold, reckless spending—this mad dog of a friend was unmatched.
“Don’t worry, Maytal.”
“?”
“Your old man will handle this.”
Dion patted his son’s shoulder. Maytal looked up at him, unsure.
“It’ll be fine… right?”
Crash!
Glass shattered in the distance.
Dion smiled brightly.
“Remind me—how much does glass cost these days?”
Despite the noise, the “negotiations” went surprisingly smoothly.
…Well, with a fair bit of intimidation and a lot of money involved.
“At least it ended without too much trouble,” Dion sighed in relief.
For a moment, he’d feared it would turn into a full-on sword fight—but aside from a few broken windows, no real harm was done.
“Sometimes I wonder… what will become of Cazliden’s future,” he muttered.
“Don’t worry,” Winston replied flatly. “Give it a few more decades in this job, and you’ll understand. You can behave like complete trash and still hold power.”
Dion patted his son’s back, grinning. Maytal glanced sideways at him with a look of mild disgust.
“Such nonsense.”
Winston returned from inspecting the nobles’ rooms, his heavy steps echoing through the hall.
The nobles who had been huddled together had long since fled back into their chambers.
Dion greeted him with a bright, knowing smile.
“Good work. They were cooperative enough, I hope?”
“If they weren’t, what could they even do about it?”
“Ha, true enough.”
