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Chapter – 11
“Your Grace! Look over there!”
Maranello shouted.
“Mm.”
Archduke Guntram lowered his left arm as he watched the soil take the shape of a human being.
Now that the ritual had begun, finalizing the verdict could wait.
“W-was she really a Spiritist?”
“The earth is forming into a person…!”
The townsfolk, who had been deeply disappointed earlier, now focused their attention on Evangeline’s spirit magic.
And then, the events of that day unfolded before their eyes.
— Hehehe! What are you gonna do to me, huh? Hic! I’m a direct descendant of the Sigmund family! My old man’s the Lord of Dekaron! Ha-ha! Hic!
— Damn, I’m so drunk… hic…
Slip!Thud!
— Which bastard was that! Hic! Come out! I’ll kill you! Hic!”
Naturally, since it was a true record of that night, the drunken antics of Carlisle were laid bare for everyone to see.
— Buuurp!
— Bleeegh!
The belches and vomiting were shown without any filter.
Ssshhh—!!!
Even his public urination—and yes, his manly symbol—were depicted in plain sight.
Of course, since it was made of earth, it wasn’t all that realistic…
“Look at that disgrace of a man.”
“Ugh.”
“Well… it’s… impressive, at least.”
The townsfolk clicked their tongues, utterly disgusted.
“‘Old man,’ is it…”
Archduke Guntram trembled with fury upon hearing how Carlisle referred to him.
Everyone curses their ruler behind his back, sure—but to have those words shown publicly was another matter entirely.
Carlisle, however, didn’t even flinch.
“Young Master, are you all right?”
“What about it?”
“Your drunken disgrace is being shown to everyone!”
“It’s not me.”
“Young Master, you should at least lie believably.”
“Think what you want.”
Carlisle answered flatly, not the least bit embarrassed.
It’s not the first time, after all.
This wasn’t his first public scandal—so why make a big deal out of it now?
Meanwhile, the scene shifted as the true events of that night came to light.
— Haa, haa!
— Who the hell are you? Hic!
— Y-you, who are you!? Haa, haa!
— Damn it! Why’d I have to run into this drunk bastard here of all places…! Haa, haa!
Carlisle and Alberto had run into each other by chance.
— How long did you think you could keep running?
— Told you to give up already. Stop making me sweat.
— Damn you. Because of you, two of our comrades are dead.
Then Geoffrey and his gang appeared.
— He’ll be unconscious for about an hour. Let’s clean up and leave before he wakes up.
— You mean, pin it on him?
— Why not?
— Yeah. Everyone would believe it if they thought that drunkard did it.
At last, the truth of that night was revealed before everyone.
“N-no way.”
Geoffrey’s face turned pale as he sat in the witness stand.
“You dare…”
Archduke Guntram’s eyes glinted like blades of ice.
“You wretched filth!”
Geoffrey tried to grab a vial of poison from his coat, but it was a pointless attempt.
Woom—!
The Archduke stretched out his hand, and a powerful vibration filled the air.
Crack!
“Aaaagh!”
Geoffrey’s wrist snapped and twisted grotesquely, the vial falling and shattering into pieces.
Ssshhh—!
The liquid was so toxic it hissed as it ate away at the stone floor.
“Seize him.”
“Yes, Your Grace!”
The waiting knights rushed forward, cuffed the fallen Geoffrey, and gagged him before he could bite his tongue.
“Mmph! Mmmph! Mmmmphhh!”
No matter how much he struggled, it was useless.
“How dare you not only frame my son but also perjure yourself and mock the court.”
Archduke Guntram’s fury was immense.
He had nearly condemned Carlisle to become a slave soldier—and even cut off his left arm!
Yet even so, he restrained himself.
Though he wanted nothing more than to dismember Geoffrey on the spot, something told him there was more to uncover first.
“I swear, you will pay dearly for this.”
“Mmph! Mmmph!”
The Archduke turned back to the court.
“As you all saw, the true culprit has been exposed…”
He looked at Carlisle.
“I hereby declare Carlisle von Sigmund… innocent.”
Though no one spoke of his past misdeeds, no one dared to question the verdict either.
No one was bold—or foolish—enough to do so when the Archduke had nearly taken his own son’s arm.
Ding!
A window appeared before Carlisle’s eyes.
[Notice: Infamy decreased by 100.]
[Notice: Reputation increased by 30.]
Infamy: 211
Reputation: –69
After the trial—
“What are you doing?”
Carlisle snapped at a nearby knight.
“Y-yes?”
“What are you doing, I said.”
“Wh-what do you mean, sir…?”
“The cuffs.”
Carlisle lifted his shackled wrists.
“How long do you plan to keep these on?”
“S-sorry!”
The knight hurriedly unlocked the cuffs.
“Ugh.”
Even though he’d only worn them half a day, his wrists were sore and bruised red.
“You did well, Young Master.”
“Yeah, it was close.”
He had nearly lost his arm. Even if they could’ve explained things later, a severed arm wouldn’t reattach itself.
“Young Master! I did it!”
Evangeline ran up to him, beaming.
“Yeah.”
“…”
“What?”
“N-nothing.”
She looked a little flustered by his indifferent reaction. The gentle smile he’d shown earlier was nowhere to be found.
“Aren’t you… happy?”
“Not really. Just glad it’s over.”
“I see…”
“Anyway, good work.”
Carlisle gave her a small compliment.
“From now on, you don’t have to worry about your siblings. You proved your power—people will treat you properly. Start packing.”
“Packing…?”
“You’ll be moving into the inner castle soon.”
“W-what!?”
The “castle” he spoke of was not the outer citadel where the commoners lived, but the inner fortress—reserved only for members of House Sigmund, their vassals, and a chosen few.
“I’m… going to live inside the castle?”
“You think Father would let someone who’s contracted an earth spirit live out there with the masses?”
“But…”
“You’re more important—and valuable—than you realize.”
“M-me? To you, Young Master?”
“What? Don’t be ridiculous.”
Carlisle frowned.
“You think you’re only special to me? You’re one of Dekaron’s greatest assets now.”
“…Oh. That’s what you meant.”
“What were you thinking?”
“N-nothing!”
“Even the royal family will want you.”
He gave her a meaningful look.
“Am I really that valuable?”
“Yeah.”
“I see…”
Just then—
“Young Master, may we escort Lady Evangeline? It’s by the Archduke’s order,” said Christian, arriving with several knights.
“Get lost.”
“Pardon?”
“I said get lost.”
“But it’s His Grace’s command…”
“She’s my personal maid—my property. Even Father can’t take her without my consent.”
Maranello nearly jumped out of his skin.
“Y-Young Master!”
“Am I wrong?”
Carlisle ignored him and looked at Evangeline.
“M-me?” she stammered, eyes wide.
Carlisle winked.
“R-right! I’m the Young Master’s maid!”
“You heard her,” said Carlisle coolly.
“Y-yes, sir.”
“Tell Father that if he wants her, he’ll have to ask me first.”
“…”
“Now scram.”
“…Understood.”
Christian bowed slightly and left with the knights.
“Young Master, why would you say that?”
“What?”
“Why make Lady Evangeline your maid?”
“Because I want to.”
“But…”
“Is that a problem?”
“…No.”
In this world, a noble’s right to employ a maid was absolute—no one could contest it.
“Then why speak so harshly to Sir Christian?”
“Because I don’t like him.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s not the first time. Just let it go.”
But truthfully, Carlisle despised Christian.
Christian—Archduke Guntram’s aide—was in reality a high-ranking spy planted by enemy forces.
The Carlisle he remembered knew all too well: Christian would one day kidnap or murder Evangeline and cover it up as an accident.
He could never allow that to happen.
Ungrateful bastard. Repaying kindness with betrayal…
Carlisle knew how his father’s trust in Christian would one day doom House Sigmund.
No wonder his words had come out so sharp.
And besides—being known as a “disgraced noble” meant he could get away with it.
Annoying as it’ll be, I’ll have to take him out properly this time.
Carlisle watched Christian’s retreating figure and quietly sharpened his resolve.
That evening—
Carlisle behaved as if nothing had happened.
Even after surviving such a close call, there wasn’t the slightest sign of joy on his face.
The only thing he complained about was the bruise left by the cuffs.
“This’ll take a while to fade.”
“Shall I fetch a healer, Young Master?”
“No. It’ll heal in a day or two. Still… it feels good to be free.”
“You mean the trial?”
“No.”
Carlisle shook his head.
“The formal suit. It was suffocating.”
“Heh.”
Maranello gave a faint laugh, still not used to this new version of his master—
The same man who used to insist on ornate clothing indoors was now lounging barefoot, shirt unbuttoned.
“What about Evangeline?”
“She’s well-guarded. There happens to be an empty residence in the inner castle—she can move in tomorrow.”
“Good.”
Just then—
Clack.
The door opened, and Archduke Guntram entered Carlisle’s room.
“Huh?”
Carlisle blinked, clearly surprised.
Is this about Evangeline? he wondered.
Feeling awkward, he greeted his father.
“You’re here.”
“Yes.”
“Have a seat.”
“I will.”
“…”
“…”
An awkward silence filled the room.
