Chapter 146
Chapter 146
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: crow
Chapter Title: EP.36 – The Knight Hates Love Triangles (4)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The duke—no, Blake—had lived over fifty years without ever hearing such insolence from anyone.
It was only natural. Excluding the Knight King, founder of Pendragon, he was the greatest conquering monarch, hailed as the present king and war god, the legitimate son of the late king.
Born with talents as abundant as if loved by dragons themselves, no tutor could teach him for more than a fortnight.
After half a month, his knowledge would surpass even the tutor's.
Even after being stripped of succession rights upon selection by the demon sword, it was said the war god showed despair for the first time—proof of how exceptional a ruler he could have been.
Yet, even without becoming king, as the "Lord of Galahad," he remained outstanding.
He demonstrated what perfection meant by growing the Galahad family thirtyfold.
Politics.
Swordsmanship.
Commerce.
He excelled in everything, to the point where Galahad was now synonymous with Blake, a powerhouse no one in the kingdom could ignore.
Even the king probably couldn't speak casually to Duke Blake.
His presence and abilities were that extraordinary, leaving no one daring to raise their head.
...And so.
"-No way a royal has gone senile, so what the hell are you doing?"
"………."
...Blake was shocked that a knight he'd invited himself would utter such "outrage," yet the sheer freshness of it left him too stunned for anger.
Just one curiosity lingered.
"...Why are you angry at me?"
Why was this knight suddenly furious with him?
He simply wanted to hear the reason.
The knight...
"I'm not angry. I'm just telling you to snap out of it. Stop with the delusions."
It somehow felt like scolding.
"This isn't to 'Your Grace'—it's advice from the tutor teaching your children."
"...Advice, to me, of all people?"
"It's fine. Even a pathetic father needs it."
"……."
"Ah, not quite? Let me correct that. You're not just pathetic now—you're a failure as a parent. Even if you'd had a wife and kids, I doubt you'd have been a good father. You couldn't trust your child."
"...You're crossing the line now."
He couldn't stay silent once his late wife was mentioned.
Righteous fury surged; he could execute the knight on the spot without remorse—
"—Then why are you suspecting not just that Judia girl without proper investigation, but Irene Windler too?"
"………."
...Blake's hand twitched.
For the first time, bewilderment crossed his face, leaving him speechless.
The knight continued.
"You've been calling your foster daughter 'Irene Windler' since earlier. Like you want to make her a total stranger. You're doubting not just the redhead, but your own foster daughter too, aren't you? Am I wrong?"
"...And what's wrong with that?"
He didn't deny it.
As the knight said, he even suspected Irene.
The nagging doubt: what if the girl, the spitting image of his beloved, was something fabricated by the temple like Judia?
From then on, even his foster daughter seemed suspicious.
"Suspicions must be logical."
"That's the messed-up logic I'm talking about."
"……."
...Unyielding rebuttal.
"Because she's not silver-haired? Or because she's a mage? You say fairy blood explains it. And confirming bloodlines? Royals have ways, right? So why haven't you checked? Ah, maybe because Irene Windler might be a clone of your late wife? Hmm, could be. But here's what I'm curious about..."
-If you suspect her so much, why keep her around?
"……."
...This time, he had no answer.
Wise beyond measure, never at a loss for words.
"Can't figure out why you keep her close? That's why I call you a failed parent. You know the answer but pretend not to— that's the failing grade."
"...I know the answer?"
"Stop repeating yourself. You're pretending not to know, and it's starting to piss me off."
"……I'm genuinely clueless. What am I missing?"
For the first time in his life, Blake felt like a fool.
So disoriented, each word from the knight made his heart pound.
As if on the verge of grasping the core truth he'd overlooked.
Blake pressed the knight.
Spur the answer out.
To his urgent question.
"—Are you keeping her around just because she resembles your late wife? Or because your 'heart tells you to'? Looks like the latter to me."
"-------."
...A devastatingly simple answer, yet it struck Blake like a hammer to the skull.
Forcing him to confront the folly he'd denied... no, ignored despite knowing.
"Your Grace, you know it too. People sometimes live by instinct and impulse, not logic. So, what does your instinct—no, your heart—say about her?"
"……."
"If you still don't get it after that, I'll be disappointed. The man who made me feel defeat... turns out this pathetic."
"...Hah."
...In that moment.
Blake understood.
Why the knight was angry, spouting such bold words.
Of course.
'...I've been lying to myself too.'
The knight pitied his own dishonest self.
Blake couldn't even be honest with himself.
Endlessly doubting, denying his heart's pull.
...Dismissing his emotions as mere illusions of longing.
"One more thing? If you truly suspected her, you wouldn't have drugged her to sleep. You'd have confronted her outright. But you drugged her for a simple reason."
"……."
"'Don't want to be hated'—that's the psychology. Hearing your doubts would hurt her."
"……."
"Whether you're her real father? I can't say for sure. But this I know: all fathers instinctively hate being hated by their kids. And just seeing how you dread that proves you treasure her."
"...I."
"Don't lose what's precious and regret it later. ...Though people always do."
"......You might've stopped there."
...Somehow, Blake felt the knight was older, wiser.
His advice, and...
'That deflating punchline at the end... just like my late brother.'
Much older, now gone, yet evoked by a mere knight's face.
Was he seeing things?
......Damn, I went too far.
Lee Han's first thought, followed by the consequences crashing in.
Zing-!
Killing intent poured toward him.
'Weaklings wouldn't last a second.'
The servants' murderous aura was intense; one order from the duke, and they'd swarm him.
A perilous situation, proof he'd chosen a reckless path.
Yet.
'Still feels good to get it off my chest.'
No regrets.
Not because he could escape even if they all attacked.
Simply...
'Had to say it, or it'd eat me alive.'
Wouldn't rest until venting at the old man.
Regrets could wait.
Absurd.
Too smart for his own good? Or no one to tell him?
'How does he not see the obvious?'
One unspoken truth more.
Anyone with keen eyes or sensing "auras" would spot it instantly, but...
'They're like identical fish-shaped buns.'
Couldn't see details through artifact yesterday, but now he could.
The energy, the wavelength Blake exuded.
The overall "color" defining the man.
Probably each person's unique hue, since...
'Everyone's is distinct.'
Vital types like knights or mages shone brighter, and Lee Han saw Blake's vivid color matched the novice mage's.
DNA-match levels, screaming father-daughter.
...Yet the idiot denied it.
Handing off the redhead? Fine, but his speech and actions were infuriating as a dozen sweet potatoes.
'Is this the romance novel curse?'
Obvious resemblance, but the father blind to his daughter.
A cliché cliché.
Even more frustrating.
"I see. I already treasure her. Yet I doubted. It wasn't about blood—it's that I treasure her, and I missed that basic truth..."
"……."
...I'm going insane.
'Instinct pulling him, dripping honey, and he won't admit she's his daughter?'
No wonder mid-to-late romance plots turn soapy.
Seems solvable, never resolves.
'...Fine, I did what I could.'
But no more meddling.
Already overstepped into potential treason; open mouth again, and off with his head.
"Then I'll make my escape."
"...Spewing all that rudeness before leaving?"
"People only listen when you're blunt and rude."
"Haha! Hate to admit it, but true. My head still throbs."
"......Won't apologize."
"Ahaha!"
The duke laughed heartily again, but the servants' glares sharpened murderously. Lee Han met them boldly.
"Mad 'cause I insulted your lord?"
"Wrong house then. Blame yourselves."
...Looks of utter disbelief at the shameless gall.
Fair, since the farter was fuming, but Lee Han was serious.
They shared blame.
Of course.
"—Loyal retainers risk life to advise and reprove when their lord strays. But you let yours rampage unchecked. Be ashamed an unrelated fool said it first, you pathetic lot."
"What good's hundreds if eyes and ears can't discern right from wrong?"
Better none at all.
Lee Han's final parting shot.
"……."
The duke watched the knight's receding back.
Shrinking into the distance, yet it looked massively reassuring, like an unshakeable mountain.
"Grown remarkably. Immensely so..."
True growth.
Not mere power increase—everything about him had evolved.
Crashing life, pride, conviction head-on forged that eye-opening leap.
And the humanly matured knight dared "scold" him, unlike yesterday.
Undeniably humiliating.
"...Strangely, no resentment."
Despite the insolence, the duke felt only amusement, not displeasure.
Even at first meeting.
A hero hiding achievements.
He'd taken a liking, sensed a fine knight, and now...
"......I get Duchess Jenimia's feelings."
Keep those sparing no bitter truths close; beware sweet-talkers.
Perfectly understood why Marquis Tristan coveted him.
Silent servants reflecting on themselves proved he was a potent catalyst, showing true righteousness.
A knight of the royal path.
'Not just strong—observes his beliefs, eyes his surroundings. A gem.'
In an age of knights chasing politics and indulgence, such purity remained.
Tempting.
No lord could resist such trustworthy intrigue.
Suddenly.
"Hmm... adopt another son?"
-Bet it'd be fun having him around.
The duke mused a foster son might be nice.
Irene Windler would freak, but...
Tristan, now Galahad's overture.
In a way.
A "love triangle" of "high nobles" over one "knight."
"—What? Why's my mood soured suddenly?"
...The man himself would shudder in horror if he knew.