Chapter 24
Chapter 24
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: EP.7 – Irene Windler is the Neighbor Next Door (4)
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...Why did it turn into such a huge fight?
It felt like they'd run into each other out of nowhere and started brawling for no reason at all, hell-bent on killing one another.
It had started as a simple clash of auras, neither wanting to back down, and if anything, it was closer to an accident born from masculine pride.
So in the end...
'It's all that bastard's fault.'
Lee Han glared fiercely at the man, and the other did the same right back.
With his black clothes shed, the man's face evoked the image of some young nobleman.
A scar etched on one cheek hinted at a rough life, the kind that might stir sympathy in women and draw them in first.
...Which only makes me hate him more.
Lee Han growled, and the man growled back even harder.
They weren't dogs, so why act like this? But once you hated someone, refusing to yield and staring them down was just human nature.
Lee Han and Lark locked eyes again, ramping up their fighting spirit as they poised to strike at any moment.
This time, it wouldn't end in mere fisticuffs—they were ready to draw blades and go all out...
"......"
"...Sorry."
The overwhelming rebuke from an absolute authority was more than enough to quell their battle lust.
"...I see Duke Blake."
"I'll take that as a compliment. Thank you."
"Me? My neck's plenty flexible..."
"You filthy commoner! How dare you speak to His Grace like that!"
"I was perfectly polite, weren't I?"
"You wretch!"
The tension was rising toward another fight, but fortunately, the men in black grabbed Lark first this time, holding him back.
Lee Han smirked at Lark, who struggled futilely, while Lark ground his teeth in fury.
The duke pinched the bridge of his nose.
A certain man appeared in a mirror.
Not one meant for reflecting the viewer, but a mystical mirror that showed the face of someone far away.
A wondrous treasure that only a tiny fraction of mages could create, born through miraculous chance.
An artifact.
That had to be an artifact.
One worth as much as an entire castle, by price alone.
Only a scant few in the kingdom possessed the wealth and power to own such an item.
And right now, Lee Han was face-to-face with one of those elite few.
...But wasn't he supposed to be in his sixties?
What the hell is that? I'd believe it if you told me he was younger than me.
Lee Han eyed him with a different kind of dread, oblivious to his fear as the man slowly spoke.
"Y-Your Grace...! How can you say such gracious words to a mere commoner? You mustn't!"
One of the pinnacles of power in the Pendragon Kingdom.
Not a mere duke in name only, but the master of Galahad, whose prestige could rightfully claim the title of prince-duke.
For such a man to openly show 'regret' to a knight from commoner stock was simply unacceptable.
Beyond common sense, it was a matter of authority and station.
The nobility of royalty must always remain aloof and absolute.
Yet...
Duke Blake dismissed it as no big deal with a wave of his hand and instead scolded them.
Like he was telling them to quit embarrassing themselves.
But seeing this...
"Your Grace, how can you be so magnanimous...!"
"Urgh! Truly worthy of Your Grace."
"Indeed, true authority stems simply from Your Grace's presence, oh great one...!"
They were excessively reverent, like some cult worshiping a new religion. The duke's sigh grew longer.
Overzealous loyalty wasn't always a good thing.
...Watching this, Lee Han wore a peculiar expression.
'That is the [murderous madman]? ...No, he seems totally normal.'
Sure, his tone carried an overt disdain for others, but that was just par for the course among highborn nobles—like a passive skill.
Nothing to get hung up on.
But seeing this 'reasonable' side created an odd sense of dissonance.
Wasn't this just your average noble, not some mania-driven lunatic?
Lee Han's instincts stirred with doubt: was this really Duke Blake?
"I-I didn't say anything."
He stammered a half-hearted denial, but how could he fool the eyes of a lifelong politician?
The duke chuckled.
"Erm..."
He was just going to say it outright?
Now Lee Han was completely convinced.
Duke Blake was no madman.
At least, not right now.
On the contrary, he seemed more reasonable than expected—a proper [Your Grace] with a magnanimous air.
If not for the circumstances of this meeting, Lee Han might have respected him more.
He came across as a decent enough fellow.
'Ah, is this that trope?'
The classic from romance fantasies.
The monster-duke or grand duke or emperor who turns normal the moment he meets the heroine.
'Something like that, huh?'
As Lee Han had that fleeting thought...
"...No. I was just thinking rumors shouldn't always be trusted."
"Please be generous, Your Grace."
Lee Han bowed deeply, and Duke Blake held his anger no longer.
No—he deemed it not worth the effort.
From that man's perspective, Lee Han's life was less than a blade of grass, after all.
'Actually, works in my favor.'
Dealing with someone who looked down from on high was surprisingly easy.
They wouldn't dirty their own hands.
So as long as he faded from their interest, slipping out of sight would be simple—
"......"
"Is it okay to say that outright?"
Was casually admitting to spies in the royal court really fine?
Regardless of Lee Han's incredulity, Duke Blake continued.
As if what came next outweighed even that revelation.
And sure enough...
"......"
"......"
"Who got mentored by that guy?! All he ever did was beat the crap out of me!"
He couldn't help but snap at that part.
Mentored?!
Don't make him laugh.
The only things he'd learned from that man were how to take even harder beatings and how to toughen up.
Lee Han gritted his teeth, nursing the grudge of being forced into the knights' order, but the duke's reaction remained nonchalant.
"...Enough with the jokes."
"...Any proof that nameless soldier did it? Sounds more like rumor than fact."
"......"
"...Damn it."
The monkey in Buddha's palm.
That image flashed in his mind, perfectly capturing his predicament, and Lee Han finally bowed his head.
...I hate powerhouses.
The duke withdrew Galahad's entire force.
Lee Han didn't know why.
There had clearly been more to discuss, but Duke Blake wore a meaningful smile and withdrew gracefully.
As if their conversation alone had given him all the measure he needed.
As if all his curiosities were sated.
...Even though Lee Han still brimmed with questions.
Well, it probably wasn't important to the duke anyway.
'Tch.'
—Pisses me off.
He should be relieved that an overwhelmingly powerful foe who could kill him had left.
But he felt no joy whatsoever.
If anything, the fact that his lifeline had danced in someone else's hands left him utterly disgusted.
It hit him anew.
That he was still...
"Weak. Pathetically weak."
He'd thought himself improved from his past life.
Yet he remained a puppet in others' games.
Stagger.
Lee Han swayed.
He'd hidden it well, but his body was far from fine.
It hurt like hell, the wounds refusing to heal properly—nasty business.
That bastard's fists pack a wallop.
Highest praise for the hitter, utter hell for the hittee.
But what stung even more than the pain...
"...Not even giving the stick without the carrot."
Lee Han looked at the potion vial in his hand.
A potion.
Not some low-grade alchemist brew, but top-tier stuff made from troll blood.
50% purity, or something like that.
"......"
Normally, he'd have gladly accepted it.
But Lee Han's brow refused to smooth.
It felt like being toyed with.
Knowing someone had him completely figured out was infuriating.
...Still.
Gulp, gulp!
Lee Han had no intention of nursing that displeasure forever.
He downed the potion.
And vowed.
'I haven't lost yet.'
The strong don't always win.
The one who survives to the end—the one who finds 'happiness'—that's the victor.
Lee Han vowed once more.
To become happy.
...No matter what.