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Chapter – 24
Shwaaa!
A black flash flickered—
and the blood-soaked Carlisle who had been strangling him suddenly vanished.
“…Young Master.”
In his place stood the elderly butler, Maranello.
But then—
Drip, drip…
Blood was pouring from Maranello’s shoulder, flowing down in thick streams.
“Maranello?”
Startled, Carlisle threw aside the bloodied Grimungand and rushed toward him.
Fortunately, it didn’t seem to be a fatal wound, but it was by no means shallow.
“Are you okay?”
“What… was that just now?”
Oddly enough, Maranello looked more shocked by something else.
Even while bleeding profusely, his eyes weren’t on his wound, but fixed on Grimungand, lying discarded on the floor.
“I asked if you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.”
Maranello pressed his wound skillfully to stop the bleeding, showing a calmness that spoke of long experience.
It wasn’t for nothing that he had once been called the Reaper of the North.
“But… were you having a nightmare, young master?”
“Huh?”
“Because…”
According to Maranello, Carlisle had been thrashing violently in his sleep, sweating profusely as if trapped in a nightmare.
Unable to just stand by, Maranello had tried to wake him—only for Carlisle to suddenly swing his sword, injuring him.
‘So… it was a nightmare.’
Carlisle finally realized he had been dreaming—
a nightmare about the real Carlisle.
It had been so vivid he couldn’t tell dream from reality.
But now, hearing Maranello’s explanation, he knew it had been just a dream.
“Thank heavens.”
“For what?”
“If it had been a servant instead of this old man, someone would have died tonight.”
“Oh…”
“Would you help me, please?”
“Of course.”
Maranello took off his jacket.
His skin had lost some elasticity with age, but his upper body was still muscular—no less than a young knight’s.
Carlisle helped him pour potion over the wound, stitch it up, and wrap it in bandages.
“Gently, if you please, young master.”
“…You’re exaggerating.”
When the treatment was over—
“It’ll be uncomfortable for a couple of weeks, but there shouldn’t be any lasting damage.”
“That’s a relief.”
“It is. But what kind of nightmare makes a man swing a sword in his sleep?”
“…I don’t remember.”
Carlisle couldn’t bring himself to tell him.
How could he explain that he’d seen the vengeful spirit of the real Carlisle von Sigmund?
“Then what about that sword?”
“…”
“That black flash… it looked as if the blade itself were made of shadow.”
“You probably didn’t see clearly—it was dark.”
“This old man may be aged, but my eyesight hasn’t failed me yet, hehe.”
“It’s just a rusty, chipped sword.”
“Then was it your ability?”
“Hardly.”
Carlisle denied everything to the end.
“Hmm.”
Maranello narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but Carlisle didn’t say another word about Grimungand.
‘Sorry… but I can’t tell you.’
The secret of Grimungand had to remain hidden—
at least until the secret of the royal family was revealed.
“For now, please keep that sword stored safely while you sleep, young master. I’d hate for someone to get hurt—or worse.”
“Alright, I will.”
Carlisle picked Grimungand up from the floor and carefully set it back into its stand.
“Then rest well. It’s quite late.”
“Yeah.”
Even after Maranello left, Carlisle couldn’t fall asleep easily.
—Give it back… my body… give it back… heheheh…
Each time he closed his eyes, the twisted face of the real Carlisle appeared in his mind, whispering in his ear with a hateful snarl.
But soon—
“…Looks like I’m the better one between us.”
He muttered softly, and closed his eyes.
* * *
The next morning.
“Young master, the Grand Duke requests your presence.”
“This early?”
“The sun is already high in the sky.”
Because of the previous night’s ordeal, Carlisle had overslept well past noon.
“I’m tired. Barely slept.”
“Are you planning to ignore your father’s summons?”
“I’ll go.”
He didn’t want to, but Carlisle decided to stay in Grand Duke Guntram’s good graces for now.
He already had enough reasons for his father to despise him—no need to add another and get shipped off to the front lines.
“How’s your shoulder?”
“Still sore, but healing quickly.”
“Good.”
After that brief exchange, Carlisle went to meet his father—
and found not only the Grand Duke, but also the Observer who had attended his knighting ceremony yesterday… and Evangeline.
“Why are you here?”
“…Well…”
Evangeline lowered her head, unable to answer.
“Wouldn’t a proper greeting be in order first?”
“You called me here.”
At Guntram’s curt remark, Carlisle answered dryly, then looked back at Evangeline.
“I asked you why you’re here.”
“…”
When she couldn’t answer, Carlisle turned to his father.
“Why did you summon her?”
“The royal family sent word.”
“The royal family…? Ah.”
A cold smile touched Carlisle’s lips.
‘Of course. Those rats wouldn’t sit still.’
The Sigmund territory of Dekaron was crawling with spies—
agents from rival houses and the royal court alike.
Even some of the knights secretly exchanged letters with the capital.
So news of a new elementalist—a contractor of the Earth Spirit—would have reached them by now.
Such a person was a strategic asset. It was only natural that the royal family would want her.
“They suggested sending her to the capital to study.”
“Of course they did.”
Carlisle nodded as if he had expected it.
“Carlisle von Sigmund, this is an opportunity for the girl. In the capital, she could receive a superior education and—”
“I refuse.”
Carlisle cut the observer off mid-sentence.
“What did you just say, Carlisle von Sigmund?”
“I said no.”
“You would reject the royal family’s proposal—?”
“Yes. I’m declining.”
“…”
The observer was speechless.
No one—no one—openly defied a royal order.
Even if it was phrased as a “suggestion,” it was, in truth, a command.
Even a notorious troublemaker wouldn’t dare to reject it so bluntly.
“This isn’t a wise choice.”
“Are you going to take her by force, then?”
“If necessary.”
A chill filled the air between Carlisle and the observer.
“You—do you want to go?” Carlisle asked Evangeline. “If you do, I’ll let you.”
“…No.”
Evangeline’s answer was clear. She didn’t want to go.
The observer looked helplessly toward the Grand Duke.
“Your son seems reluctant.”
“She’s his maid. I have no say in the matter.”
“The King will be displeased.”
“If it were up to me, I would have accepted readily.”
“Then will you stop me if I take her by force?”
“That, too, is my son’s right. I will not interfere.”
When Guntram answered, the observer turned back to Carlisle.
“You heard him. Even if I take her by force, the Grand Duke won’t help you.”
“Oh, so you’re going to take her by force.”
“It’s for her own good.”
“Alright.”
Carlisle nodded.
“Then go ahead.”
“Now you’re being reasonable.”
“But… I never said I’d let you live if you tried.”
Carlisle slowly drew Grimungand—and pressed its blade against Evangeline’s throat.
She flinched, trembling.
“W-what are you doing!?”
“As you can see.”
Carlisle’s twisted smile deepened.
“She’s mine. I’m not sending her anywhere. If I must, I’ll send her corpse instead.”
“Haah…”
“If you want her that badly, feel free to try and take her—by force.”
“You madman.”
The observer stared at him, aghast.
It wasn’t enough that he had defied the royal family—he was now threatening to kill a royal asset.
“You think you can get away with this, Carlisle von Sigmund?”
“I might serve the crown, but I’m not handing over my own maid.”
“Th-That’s—”
“If the royal family needs her ability, we’ll cooperate. But she’s not going anywhere.”
Carlisle’s tone was absolute.
The observer had no response.
He was merely a messenger of royal will—not one empowered to enforce it.
“I see. But every word and action you’ve shown today will be reported to the crown.”
“Go ahead. That’s your job, isn’t it?”
Carlisle snorted.
‘Let’s see what they do. They’ve got enough problems now that the gift of foresight has vanished.’
He knew the royal family wouldn’t dare retaliate.
The Sigmunds were the shield of the kingdom, protectors of the northern front.
The crown couldn’t afford to antagonize them—not when a barbarian invasion was looming.
An elementalist was valuable.
But the Sigmunds were indispensable.
After the observer left—
“What were you thinking?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know the observer speaks for the crown.”
“Maybe I don’t.”
Guntram sighed heavily.
“Wouldn’t it be better to just let her go?”
“I’d rather die.”
“…Hmm.”
The Grand Duke rubbed his forehead, weary.
The timing couldn’t have been worse—
tensions with the barbarians were rising, and now his son had picked a fight with the royal family.
But he couldn’t exactly seize his son’s personal maid and hand her over either.
“We’ll wait for the crown’s reply. But if they insist, there’ll be nothing I can do.”
“I thought you said you had no authority.”
“Sometimes, this is authority.”
Guntram tapped the sword at his hip.
“So it comes down to strength.”
“You catch on quickly.”
Guntram smiled faintly.
“I don’t prefer such methods, but when necessary—yes.”
“I’ll remember that. Then, if you’ll excuse me…”
“You may go.”
“You heard him. Let’s go.”
Carlisle pulled Evangeline along by the wrist.
They walked in silence for a while—
until Evangeline finally spoke.
“Um… young master.”
“If I upset you earlier, I’m sorry. But I had no choice. If I hadn’t done that, the observer wouldn’t have backed off.”
“It’s alright.”
She shook her head.
“I wasn’t upset at all.”
“Why not?”
Carlisle frowned.
She should have been upset—he’d literally called her property.
“Because I didn’t want to go.”
“If you went to the capital, you’d be treated better, you know.”
“I still don’t want to.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m from the North.”
“…I see.”
Hearing that, Carlisle felt as if someone had struck him over the head with a hammer.
