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Chapter 10
There was such a thing as a person’s impression.
Some called it an aura.
Others called it presence, or atmosphere.
It had no tangible form, yet no one doubted its existence.
Because everyone understood how it was formed.
A person with a twisted disposition developed wrinkles as crooked as the expressions they had worn throughout their life.
Someone who spent their life smiling retained traces of that warmth in their face, creating an approachable and friendly atmosphere.
In the end, a person’s presence was a sculpture carved from the life they had lived.
From that perspective, the change in Elric’s demeanor was extraordinary.
The side of him revealed the moment he exposed his emotions was drastically different from what had come before.
To the Wibin couple, Elric suddenly felt sharp.
Not merely unfriendly.
He resembled a finely honed blade being swung right before their eyes.
The sort of presence that seemed capable of killing someone.
Or perhaps one that already had.
And that was the truth.
Elric had killed many people.
More than half of the life he remembered had been spent in places where killing was nothing unusual.
During the years when his identity was still forming, he learned how to survive by taking the flesh and blood of the living.
He learned how to weigh money against human lives.
He learned that such things were often treated as trivial.
Strictly speaking, he was a murderer.
In fact, he had once earned the nickname Sword Demon for the ghost-like ruthlessness with which he wielded his blade.
It was only natural that the Wibin couple—who had never been anywhere near such things—felt nervous under his changed presence.
After all, wasn’t atmosphere simply an extension of the thoughts people had when they looked at someone?
“That person seems kind.”
“That person seems dangerous.”
Such instincts only grew stronger through life experience and interactions with countless people.
Having spent their entire lives as nobles, constantly reading the expressions and intentions of others, the Wibins felt Elric’s transformed nature more keenly than most.
“So,” Elric said, still smiling, “I asked what you intend to do about it. Would you care to answer?”
The smile remained.
Yet it made one instinctively shrink back.
And in moments like this, a certain difference between kinds of people became glaringly obvious.
A difference born from the environments they had lived in.
The soldiers who had fought alongside Elric on the battlefield feared him.
They knew a stab from a sword meant death.
They knew violence was far removed from mercy.
They knew exactly how sharp Elric’s blade was.
When he appeared, they often fled in panic.
The Wibin couple, however, were different.
They had spent their entire lives as far from violence as possible.
They lived in a society where rude speech was criticized but never answered with physical harm.
A society that regarded violence as vulgar.
A society where conflicts were settled through words and politics.
They didn’t understand how frightening violence truly was.
They didn’t know how easily people died.
They didn’t know how simple killing could be.
And they didn’t know that there were people in the world who committed such acts as casually as eating a meal.
A puppy knows no fear of a tiger.
Why else would such a saying exist?
Why would a tiny puppy bark at a tiger several times its size?
Because killing intent was unfamiliar to it.
Faced with an oppressive atmosphere that tightened every muscle in the body, they felt wounded pride before they felt fear.
A puppy raised safely within a fence its entire life assumes a tiger is no more dangerous than any other large human.
The Wibin couple were exactly the same.
“Have you finished speaking?!”
Joseph shouted.
His voice was louder than at any point before.
His widened eyes and furious expression left no doubt he meant it as a threat.
The truth was that shrinking back had embarrassed him.
His reaction was instinctive.
A puppy’s desperate attempt to bark and show how frightening it was.
A way of licking his wounded pride.
That was the greatest difference between Elric and people like him.
“And what if I have?” Elric asked calmly.
His voice remained gentle.
His expression wasn’t harsh.
He was still seated comfortably on the sofa.
Unlike Joseph, Elric saw no value in raising his voice.
He knew methods that were simpler and far more certain.
If he truly wished to harm someone, he could simply draw a weapon and do it.
There was no need for pointless displays of anger.
Elvers Graham had once described it this way:
“A predator does not flaunt its authority. It knows that anything requiring display is not true authority.”
It was something Elric had heard while serving as Elvers’ escort during a hunting festival.
Unlike when he was a boy, Elric now understood that composure itself could be the greatest threat.
“Let me ask you something,” Elric said. “Do you possess any legal basis for claiming this inheritance? I am not asking about emotional reasons. I am asking about legal ones.”
In truth, Elric held the advantage.
He knew the inheritance legally belonged to him.
What right did they have to interfere with the wishes of the deceased?
Their intentions were already obvious.
Their clothing had become more extravagant than ten years ago.
Their eyes burned with greed for the inheritance.
And beneath it all lay unmistakable anxiety.
They were desperate for money.
“Well?”
No answer.
“None, then.”
And even setting the inheritance aside, Elric still held all the power.
“Indeed. None.”
Portman funded Wibin.
And Elric, as Portman’s eldest son, controlled that source of money.
If he truly wished to, starving them into ruin would be effortless.
Granted, Elric himself had not yet decided whether he would remain in Portman.
But the Wibins had no way of knowing that.
The couple fell silent.
Elric smiled.
“It seems to me that you are the ones indulging in excessive greed.”
“You rotten little—!”
“You should watch your tongue.”
Joseph flinched.
Fear and a sense of danger often brought clarity.
They cooled the mind and revealed truths hidden beneath emotion.
He had raised his voice because he believed Elric was someone who could be overcome through emotional pressure or appeals.
But if Elric remained rational, then Joseph was clearly the one who needed to tread carefully.
Only now did he fully realize it.
Elric rose from his seat, leaning on his cane.
“I may have run away for ten years, but I am still a Portman. My father named me his heir. And you live off Portman’s money. I assume I need not explain every detail for you to understand what that means.”
Suddenly, a dry laugh escaped him.
“When I think about it, this is rather absurd. The only person truly entitled to that inheritance is my wife, isn’t she? What made you think it belonged to you? What is your reasoning? Did you wish to be compensated for raising her?”
A memory surfaced.
The words that had ultimately driven him to run away ten years ago.
Pay back the cost of raising you.
The Wibins may never have said those exact words to Tiria.
But from their attitude, he could almost hear them.
Even if they had never spoken it aloud, Tiria must have sensed it through their behavior.
Shared experiences made empathy easy.
And what rose within him now was a form of revenge that bordered on self-satisfaction.
“Then repay the cost of feeding you,” he said coldly. “And stop being greedy.”
Of all the words he knew, the ones most capable of crushing a person had come from his own father.
Ironically, at this moment, Elric was imitating the very man he had hated.
“I’ll be leaving now.”
Tap.
Leaning on his cane, Elric turned to leave the reception room.
Then—
“Y-you think you’ll get away with this?! Do you even know who I am?!”
Unable to throw a punch until the very end, Joseph shouted desperately.
Elric turned his head.
Joseph’s flushed face looked strangely pathetic.
Smiling, Elric replied,
“Try whatever you like.”
His smile widened.
“I’ll be looking forward to it.”
Even then, Elric remained relaxed.
No threat came from those words.
Even if they struggled desperately to stab him in the back later…
Well.
He doubted they could be harsher than the battlefields of the west.
“One thing, though.”
His smile faded slightly.
“I don’t enjoy being patient twice.”
With that, Elric left the reception room.
Click.
The door closed behind him.
And then—
“AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!”
A shrill scream, almost like that of a young girl, echoed through the estate.
* * *
The carriage headed back toward House Portman.
As the scenery drifted past outside the window, Elric reflected on what had happened at the Wibin estate.
What welled up inside him was embarrassment.
And self-loathing.
His face felt hot.
I have no right.
Honestly, despite the way he had treated them, Elric didn’t consider himself a better person than they were.
After all, when it came to Tiria, wasn’t he just as guilty?
Even if he had assumed she had already left the estate, could that really serve as an excuse?
If the truth turned out otherwise, it would be nothing more than cowardly self-justification.
Then what did he need to do to become different from them?
“…Please stop the carriage for a moment.”
The carriage came to a halt.
They were beside the Portman wheat fields.
Tiria was there.
She was inspecting the wheat when her gaze landed on Elric.
She gave a slight bow before turning back to her work.
Elric stepped down from the carriage and walked toward her.
The soil in the wheat fields was far less stable than the road, making movement awkward.
“Excuse me.”
He couldn’t bring himself to call her wife.
Not yet.
It felt undeserved.
Tiria turned back toward him.
Her response carried a hint of curiosity.
“Yes?”
Her blunt manner was completely different from the parents he had just visited.
The contrast felt striking.
Perhaps that was why he felt less tense than usual.
For once, Elric managed a smile softer than any he had shown her before.
“Would you join me for dinner this evening? There is something I’d very much like to discuss.”
“Is it not something that can be discussed here?”
“I would rather not interrupt your work.”
He felt unexpectedly nervous.
What if she rejected him?
The thought worried him more than it should have.
So Elric waited anxiously for her answer.
And when it came, relief washed over him.
“If a somewhat late dinner is acceptable, then yes. Let us do that.”
Elric’s expression brightened.
“Thank you. Then I’ll see you this evening.”
They say that the person who ties a knot must be the one to untie it.
Tonight, Elric intended to apologize.
For leaving ten years ago.
