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Chapter – 06
“Then what you’re saying is… you’re planning to break Carlisle out?”
“As you can see.”
Silas gestured toward the unconscious knights on the floor.
“No brother wishes to have his nephew’s blood on his hands. And there aren’t many uncles who could stand to watch their nephew die—no matter how worthless or wicked that nephew may be.”
“I understand.”
Hestia nodded, completely agreeing with Silas’s words.
In the end, Silas and Hestia were thinking the same thing.
Was it because they loved Carlisle?
…Of course not.
If anything, there had been countless times she wanted to beat him to death herself.
Sometimes—just sometimes—she’d even thought about actually killing him in a fit of rage.
That was how enormous Carlisle’s list of misdeeds was—so long and exhausting that it was tiring just to talk about it.
And yet, here were Hestia and Silas, risking everything to save this hateful black sheep.
They both knew that once Carlisle disappeared, Duke Guntram would be enraged and would hunt down whoever was responsible—then make them pay dearly.
But it was a kind of twisted affection.
They despised and resented Carlisle—but couldn’t stand to watch their own bloodline end in tragedy.
“I can only feel sorry—truly sorry—for the families of the people who died in the fief… but I just couldn’t stand by and do nothing.”
“I feel the same way.”
As Silas and Hestia came to an agreement—
‘Huh?’
Carlisle realized that Silas and Hestia weren’t the only ones who had come for him.
‘Selena and Frey are here too.’
Through the window Hestia had climbed in, Carlisle saw two fleeting faces—Selena’s and Frey’s—peek in and vanish.
‘Let’s go. The adults can handle it.’
‘Okay, sis.’
Selena and Frey had also snuck in to rescue him, but once they noticed others were already there, they quietly slipped away.
‘At this rate, it’s going to turn into a full family reunion.’
Carlisle thought, half amused and half exasperated.
Then anger bubbled up—not toward his rescuers, but toward the real Carlisle—the original owner of this body.
‘You had family like this, and yet you still managed to live such a pathetic life?’
That wasn’t the only thought that came to him.
‘So… this is what family is like?’
The behavior of his relatives felt completely alien to him.
To him, family was…
“Your uncle came all this way, and still you won’t go?”
Hestia’s voice cut through his thoughts.
“What do you mean by that?”
Silas frowned, looking baffled.
“Carlisle said he won’t leave.”
“What?”
“I don’t know if he’s too dazed to understand the situation or if he’s simply given up on everything.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Is that true, boy? What your aunt said?”
“Yes, Uncle.”
“Why?”
“Uh… well—”
“What kind of ridiculous stubbornness is this? Do you have a death wish—?”
Silas, overcome by anger, didn’t even wait for Carlisle’s reply.
He strode over, grabbed him by the collar, and growled in a low, furious tone.
“Say it now. I’ll kill you myself.”
“……”
“Better to die by your uncle’s hand than by your father’s, wouldn’t you say?”
“……”
“Why aren’t you answering me?”
“…Could you maybe—”
“What?”
“L-let go… first.”
“…!”
Seeing Carlisle’s face turn blue, Silas realized he’d gone too far and loosened his grip with an awkward grimace.
“You weren’t planning to strangle him before you even got an answer, were you?” Hestia shot sharply.
“…My apologies.”
Silas turned away briefly, embarrassed, then glared at Carlisle again.
“Why won’t you go?”
Carlisle coughed and finally replied.
“Because I don’t want to live like that.”
“What do you mean? Are you afraid you’ll lose your comfortable life?”
“It would be a lie to say that doesn’t cross my mind.”
“You little—!”
“But that’s not it.”
Carlisle cut him off.
“If I run now, I’ll never get another chance.”
“What do you mean?”
Silas was taken aback.
That a notorious scoundrel like Carlisle would utter something that even vaguely resembled atonement was beyond belief.
“I’m trying to find my own way to survive. If I run now, that becomes impossible.”
“Find a way to survive? You?”
“Yes.”
He could flee now and later try to prove his innocence.
But if it turned out he had killed Alberto, that chance would be gone forever.
And then even a plea bargain to reduce his sentence would be out of reach.
“How do you expect to find a way to survive?”
“Well…”
Carlisle hesitated, unsure how to explain—
“What in the world is going on here?”
Just then, Maranello appeared at the perfect moment.
“…!”
“…!”
Hestia and Silas both froze awkwardly.
No matter who they were, neither could take Carlisle anywhere without the permission of Maranello—the man once known as the Grim Reaper of the North.
“If this grows any louder, His Grace will be greatly displeased. I must ask the two of you to return.”
Maranello quickly assessed the situation and politely suggested Hestia and Silas withdraw.
“That’s impossible, Sir Maranello,” Hestia replied firmly.
To her, Carlisle was like a son.
No matter who stood in her way, not even Maranello could easily stop her.
“Carlisle is one of the few relatives I have left. Besides, I swore to my sister that I would protect her children.”
“How could I not know that?”
Maranello smiled faintly.
“But the young master seems to have a plan of his own. Wouldn’t it be better to respect that?”
“You’re quite naïve, Sir Maranello.”
“Pardon?”
“You actually believe Carlisle has a plan?”
“……”
Maranello fell silent.
“Now that you mention it, that is strange. When has that boy ever made a proper plan in his life? The brat’s never even thought before.”
Silas crossed his arms, fully backing Hestia’s cynicism.
“Ahem.”
Maranello coughed awkwardly, trying to hide his embarrassment.
To be fair, given Carlisle’s past behavior, it was hard to imagine him having any kind of plan.
‘…These people…’
Carlisle squeezed his eyes shut in frustration.
But what could he do?
That was the price of possessing the body of a man whose reputation was already below zero—negative ninety-nine, even.
“I’m still here, you know.”
Unable to stand it any longer, Carlisle spoke up to remind them he was in the room.
“If you’re going to insult me, at least wait until I’m gone.”
At that, Hestia, Silas, and Maranello all awkwardly looked away.
“Maranello.”
“Yes, young master.”
“See the two of them out. I’m going to sleep, so keep it quiet.”
With that, Carlisle trudged over to his bed and slipped under the covers.
“Carlisle!”
Hestia shouted angrily, but Carlisle just rolled himself tighter in the blanket and stayed silent.
“Please, madam, calm yourself and hear me out,” Maranello soothed her.
“I know how the young master’s words must sound, but he isn’t speaking entirely without reason.”
“Is that so?”
“In any case, he wishes to rest. Let’s step outside for now and discuss this. Lord Silas, you as well.”
“A-ah, yes.”
Once Maranello had persuaded the two and led them out—
‘Why are they doing this?’
Carlisle, eyes closed, thought.
Why? Why would the Sigmund family risk so much to save this wretched man?
It wasn’t that he didn’t understand—his mind could make sense of it, but his heart couldn’t.
‘Because we’re nobles? Because we share blood?’
He gave up on the thought.
‘There’s no point trying to understand what I can’t feel.’
And with that, Carlisle pushed away the questions and tried to sleep.
The next day.
And the day after that.
Carlisle barely slept at all.
His earlier joke about a “family reunion” was starting to feel less like a joke.
“Carlisle, Carlisle, wake up, come on!”
“Young master, please, get up!”
Every time he drifted off, another relative or retainer showed up trying to break him out—and ruined his rest.
‘Maybe I should just post a notice.’
He seriously considered writing a sign: Not planning to escape. Do not wake me.
The one who suffered most for it was Maranello.
The old man had even brought a chair to sit outside Carlisle’s room all night, quietly turning away would-be rescuers so his master could finally sleep.
Then, one night—two days before the trial—a piece of good news arrived.
“Young master, Miss Evangeline has regained consciousness. The ritual succeeded.”
“Ah?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That’s good.”
That was all Carlisle said.
“You don’t seem very pleased?”
“It’s too soon to celebrate. I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“Well, that’s true, but still…”
“Could we go check on her at dawn?”
“That should be possible.”
A few hours later.
Carlisle slipped out of the castle with Maranello and met with Evangeline.
“They say it worked?”
“Yes! I tried it with my siblings, and it really worked! How did you even know about such a ritual—”
“You don’t need to know that.”
“…O-okay.”
Evangeline’s voice shrank under Carlisle’s cold reply.
‘That’s a useful trick. I’ll have to remember it.’
Carlisle thought this was one of the perks of being a “scoundrel”:
you didn’t have to justify yourself.
A simple dismissive tone shut down any unwanted questions.
Sure, people might dislike him for it—but who cared?
A scoundrel acting like a scoundrel was hardly surprising.
And now, with Evangeline properly subdued, she was calmer—better focused for what was coming.
“Well then…”
Evangeline cautiously extended her hand.
Carlisle took it.
It was time to uncover the truth of that night.
