MDBCD 03

chapter 03

Victor, who had been thinking for a long time, finally reached out and picked up the silver bell on the table, giving it a shake.

A clear metallic sound spread through the quiet office.

Through the half-open window, the summer air slowly seeped in, gently stirring the curtains.

The warm breeze carried the scent of grass and the heat of the sun-warmed garden.

“Bring me the newspaper.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

The butler, Willen, who hurried in at the sound of the bell, quickly noticed that his master was somewhat different from usual.

Something must not have gone well in the capital. Well, that would explain why he came back to the estate after so long.

Thinking that, Willen did not dwell on it and promptly brought today’s newspaper along with a glass of cold water.

In any case, his duty was to serve his master well, not to concern himself with the complicated politics of the capital.

“…July 1, 1867?”

It was only after he had completely drained the glass of water that a hollow laugh escaped Victor’s lips at the absurd date.

On the battlefield, even a single cup of clean water was a luxury, so Victor ordered the butler to bring him something to drink again. He added that he should also bring a cup of coffee.

Have I finally gone mad.

His last memory was of a temporary field infirmary. There had been a bombardment, and he had likely died there.

Yet now, with all his limbs intact, he had returned to four years in the past.

After calmly confirming that the articles in the newspaper described events he had already seen before, he soon walked over to the mirror.

It was something he rarely had reason or time to look at unless he was dressing for a banquet, but now it was extremely useful.

“….”

In the full-length mirror, a man with an imposing build glared back at him.

Surprisingly, the scar near his eye—earned during the great war with France—was completely gone. Or rather, it had not yet been formed at this point.

The knee that had been troublesome from a grazing bullet was also fine, and above all, his gaze was different.

A person who has survived countless brushes with death inevitably carries a killing intent in their eyes.

But the man in the mirror now was rather… handsome.

In other words, he did not look like a dangerous explosive.

“So this is what I looked like back then.”

He soon began unbuttoning his shirt.

Even inside the house, he usually buttoned it up to the collar and wore a vest—such was his suffocating preference—but now he had no choice. He needed to check his body.

“This gunshot wound is gone too. But this body is completely useless.”

The butler, who had returned with water and coffee, pretended not to hear his master’s muttering.

It did seem strange that his master had suddenly stripped in broad daylight and was criticizing what, to the butler, looked like perfectly fine upper body muscles, but in the long-standing house of Bayern, it was beyond one’s authority to question the head of the family.

Instead, the butler simply bowed at once to his master’s command.

“Go out and bring me the most famous journalist from the newspaper.”

“Understood. Would you prefer a political daily? Or someone from the gossip side?”

Victor paused briefly at the question before speaking in a low voice.

“Both. I’ll be placing a marriage advertisement.”

This time, even the experienced butler could not stop his eyes from widening.

The next day, Victor realized that he was still at his estate.

He had never imagined returning in this way. Perhaps God had scraped together what little mercy He had and granted it.

Thinking indifferently, his next action was to take out paper and write down everything he knew.

From small details like the personal information of officers and soldiers, to larger matters such as where and what battles had taken place.

And on the final page, he wrote in detail why he had been abandoned and how that had led him into a corner.

What had gone wrong, and why he had not been able to survive.

‘The war that will occur between France and Richter… at this point in time, I am the only one who knows about it.’

If preventing it was what God wanted, then he was willing to comply.

Even in war, attacking a place with wounded soldiers was against international agreements.

If such a rule was broken, not only the two countries involved but also surrounding nations were supposed to unite in condemnation.

But France had ignored all of that and launched an attack.

‘Which means our dear King of Richter must have allowed it.’

He had been caught between the grudges of two kings.

That was the simplest way to put it.

And because of that, his officers, his soldiers, and his doctors had died.

Crack.

Perhaps he had put too much force into his grip—his fountain pen snapped.

After silently mourning the remains of the pen he had cherished, he discarded it without hesitation and took out a new one.

For now, that was fine.

He was no longer at the point where he had to give guerrilla warfare orders while clutching charcoal.

‘First, I need to identify the most loyal subordinates.’

War reveals the lowest nature of people.

There were deserters and traitors, but there were also many comrades who had fought with him until the very end.

‘Abel.’

At that moment, the elegant fingers holding the pen came to a stop.

The only non-combatant.

The person who had tried until the very end to somehow keep him alive.

‘What did he say at the end? That I should survive?’

He did not know why such a miracle had occurred.

There was no way all of it had been a dream.

After thinking for a long time, his thoughts settled on Abel.

‘If I wasn’t the one who caused this miracle, then it must have been Abel. Perhaps Abel returned just like I did.’

If it was true that Abel had revived him…

Bayern always repaid its debts.

But what would be the best way?

Abel had said he was a commoner—where was he supposed to find him?

He at least remembered the school Abel had graduated from, since it had been in his records.

But that alone made it very difficult to locate him.

‘Come to think of it, Abel always cleverly concealed the truth.’

Victor had let it be, thinking Abel believed he hadn’t noticed, and even seemed a bit proud of it.

There was a difference between lying and hiding a few truths one did not wish to tell.

Yes, that much was…

“Woof! Woof!”

“Ahh! Stop that! A bloodline of Bayern behaving like some beast!”

“Grrr, woof! Woof!!!”

“You think I don’t know you’re doing this on purpose? I said stop! Oh, dear God!”

….

As he listened to the commotion outside, Victor’s expression instantly went numb.

The softness that had briefly touched his lips at the thought of Abel disappeared, and his posture stiffened.

Yes, Victor Bayern also had a few secrets.

Secrets he did not wish to tell anyone.

“When exactly are you going to send that one to a mental hospital?”

That evening, after he had fully grasped his situation, at the dining table—

His aunt, Genevieve Bayern, who had obvious scratch marks on her face, fumed with anger.

“The first one is so clever, so why is the second like that? For that child’s own sake, you must have him admitted quickly. At this rate, Bayern will become a laughingstock.”

Despite her age, Genevieve still wore her hair long, and she remained unmarried.

The reason for bringing up her unmarried status was simple—this was why she was currently staying at the estate.

After losing her share of the inheritance due to a near-fraudulent investment, she had been living here since around the time Victor’s younger sister, Susanna, died.

The house was large, and they rarely crossed paths. Moreover, someone was needed to take care of the twin sons Susanna had left behind, so Victor had readily agreed.

‘But it wasn’t as expected.’

The twins, now nine years old, had a very poor relationship with Genevieve.

If talk of a mental hospital had come up, that said enough.

‘What did I do at this time?’

As he simply stared without responding, Genevieve flinched slightly and swallowed her words.

“Well, it’s not as if Bayern’s honor would truly be tarnished by a mere child… but the second one’s condition is serious. You wouldn’t know since you’ve only just returned after two years.”

“A mental hospital, you say….”