Chapter 337
Chapter 337
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: EP.71 - Cowardice Isn't Exclusive to Villains (1)
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"...Haa."
A maid who would hear "cute" from at least five out of ten passersby on the street let out a sigh so deep it seemed to cave the ground beneath her.
Just from seeing her outfit—drab and faded compared to the trendy maid uniforms lately—anyone with a keen eye could tell she worked for a traditional, somewhat insular family.
"Anna, what's wrong? You've been like this for a while."
"Just... tired..."
Anna, a maid with a rather common name, had been sighing heavily for a bit now, so her colleagues couldn't help but worry.
She was usually so full of energy.
In response to their question.
"...I think I'm about to get fired."
"Why?"
"Did you make some mistake?"
"The other day, while cleaning... I ran into the Baron."
"What!?"
"Of all the luck..."
She ran into the Baron.
That single sentence was enough for her fellow maids to instantly understand why she was sighing.
Their workplace, the Loengrin Barony, could be summed up as a patriarchal household where everything was strictly controlled by the family head.
The late previous Baron had been somewhat kind, from what they'd heard, but the current head, Baron Rosés of Loengrin, was ruthlessly stern and intolerant of anything that displeased his eye.
Could you believe he even dismissed servants who'd faithfully served the Loengrins for centuries just because they rubbed him the wrong way?
He was that ruthless, and the current servants lived in constant tension, walking on thin ice, always on edge.
The only consolation was the generous pay.
"Haa, the pay's good even if it feels suffocating."
"How'd you even run into him?"
"I told you, I was just cleaning. And then we crossed paths by chance."
"Aigoo..."
They could only pity her for her sheer bad luck, and Anna's gloomy expression only deepened.
Then.
Clop, clop.
"?"
The maids instinctively turned their heads at the sudden sound of hooves, and they saw it.
"Oh my..."
A strikingly handsome young man on a pure white steed had pulled up right in front of the Loengrin estate's main gate.
"Where do you find someone who looks that noble?"
"Handsome and noble aren't the same thing."
"Then, does that face look wicked to you?"
"......No, it's positively saintly."
"Exactly."
The women's whispers softly stirred the garden, but it didn't last.
Huuuuuuh!
Suddenly, the young man on the white horse drew in a massive breath.
"─My name is Santa Ri Han!!! Lord of Loengrin! To defend my honor, I challenge you to a duel!!!"
Riiiing! An ear-splitting roar echoed across the vast garden and throughout the estate, deafening everyone.
It was an utterly tremendous shout, and women toppled over backward in droves.
It was just the sound of the yell, but it carried such overwhelming presence that a woman's body could hardly withstand it.
"He might be... dangerous...?"
Anna muttered, and the women nodded gravely...
"I kinda like dangerous guys..."
"......Your tastes are a bit..."
Tastes in the world are varied, after all.
Needless to say, no family head or knights would come out to deal with a ruffian bellowing like a lunatic in front of the estate.
Instead...
"Who might you be to cause such a commotion?!"
"Judging by your armor and horse, you seem like a young noble from a fine house. Please calm down."
The guards stepped forward to restrain the man.
Not only was his white horse clearly expensive at a glance, but his armor—impractical and flashy just to look costly—and his jewel-encrusted sword screamed "spoiled provincial noble."
He was surely one of the nobles who'd come to the capital for the Crown Prince's birthday celebration.
'Total spoiled brat.'
'One of those rumor-chasers. Probably trying to pick a fight with Loengrin to make a name for himself.'
'Handsome face wasted on an idiot like that.'
Rumors about Loengrin were swirling suspiciously thick lately.
Well, some of it was true.
But even so, this was Loengrin.
A house with centuries of prestige wouldn't show weakness to riffraff like this.
The guards were highly skilled too, and as they eyed him threateningly...
Slash!
"Deliver this to Baron Loengrin! If he sees it and still doesn't come out, tell him this is a warning that I'll resort to a show of force!"
"...?"
"Hurry!"
"My ears... they hurt."
The man, who seemed ready to barrel through stubbornly to the end, suddenly handed over a letter, leaving the guards blinking.
But.
"You can read the letter if you like. But the truth you'll learn from it is something you'll have to bear on your own!"
"......"
...Something felt off.
For a spoiled young master, his aura was unnervingly intense, and the guards pondered what to do with the letter...
"L-Let's pass it to the steward first."
"Y-Yeah, that's best."
Normally, they'd chase him off or burn it themselves, but they couldn't manhandle someone who looked noble, and his extraordinary presence ensured the letter reached the higher-ups.
Astonishingly, the whole process took less than ten minutes.
Confirming the letter had entered the estate, the man crossed his arms atop his horse and fell silent.
As if he'd never been shouting up a storm, brazen as ever.
"He's no ordinary pretty boy—he's got some grit."
"Yeah."
His sudden silence after achieving his goal was ridiculous, but somehow earning positive vibes—
"Huff, huff!"
The guard who'd delivered the letter came running back in a panic.
"Th-the steward summons you! He says... to enter the estate..."
"!!?"
Everyone gawked at the young man, unable to hide their shock.
But the young man glared at his blockers as if it were the natural course of events.
"Step aside. I need to meet your master."
"........."
...The guards weren't hypnotized or anything, but somehow they obeyed, parting the way meekly.
It just felt like they had to.
"......"
Rosés, deep in his work, didn't hide his displeasure.
Not just the interruption, but the sheer audacity of it.
"Has there ever been such a rude fool who barged into Loengrin without appointment or prior notice, Steward?"
"...My apologies, my lord."
"You shouldn't let such apologies happen in the first place."
"......"
"Haa, fine. What's the point talking to incompetents? Let's see that arrogant punk's face."
No sooner had Rosés spoken than the steward hurried out.
To carry out his orders, but even that irked Rosés.
No, he despised everyone but himself from the start.
"Annoying. Why is everyone so useless?"
He hated the servants.
Lowly things who dared backtalk under the guise of "advice."
He hated men.
Filthy faces and voices polluting his eyes and ears.
He hated women too.
Their nauseating perfumes, and their presumption to touch him.
...He despised humanity.
"Hoo-."
Suppressing his barely concealed loathing, Rosés skimmed the letter.
Casual as it seemed, he grasped the full content and context, and he—
"My lord, the guest has arriv—"
Bam!
...hurled his glass cup.
It hit like a potion bomb, not mere glass, but the steward—miraculously grazed only by a few hairs—survived, sweating coldly.
A direct hit would've been instant death.
Conversely.
"Quite the rough welcome. Does Loengrin threaten its guests like this?"
The young man who'd effortlessly dodged the glass shot Rosés a mocking smile.
"...Arrogant cur. You think I'd have sweet words after you dare hand me this? I ought to gut you."
"Hm, for a sacred knight's house, your tongue's rougher than a mercenary's."
"!!!"
Rosés shuddered in rage, ready to erupt again, but the young man pressed on undaunted.
Closing the distance as if nothing had happened.
Then suddenly.
"Let's talk alone. Better for focusing on the 'deal,' don't you think?"
"What makes you think I'd trust you?"
"Don't worry. I'm not fool enough to threaten you outright. Hm, or what? Are you scared of a nobody like me, Lord Baron Rosés?"
"......"
Crack!
"Shame about that fancy fountain pen. Guess you don't know the value of things."
"Shut up!"
Rosés gestured wildly with curses.
Toward the steward, who understood but hesitated to leave his lord alone with an unknown thug.
However.
"C-Call if you need anything."
He couldn't further irk his already foul-tempered master.
The steward shut the door and left, plunging the study into silence.
"Just the two of us now, my lord."
"...Enough with the cheek. Where'd you get this intel?"
Thwack.
Rosés tossed the letter at the young man without hesitation, who caught it smoothly.
It hit the floor—a letter in name, but essentially a document.
None other than.
"I was shocked too, my lord. Or should I say, Opium King? To think you're distributing this much opium in the south."
"I told you not to spout nonsense."
Indeed. The document detailed a trading company Loengrin secretly ran—and the opium it trafficked.
Opium imported from east and west in dozens of tons, spread across the continent.
If this came out, Loengrin—no, Rosés—would stand trial.
He'd committed every crime a noble shouldn't.
But.
"Hmph. You think this is enough to drag me down? That Loengrin's the only one profiting from this opium?"
"Oh? Admitting it now? That you and other nobles are united in trafficking opium."
"Admit or not, I'm saying a worm like you can't touch me. If you think this exposes me enough to threaten, you're brainless."
Rosés sneered at the young man.
Opium trafficking?
Yes, illegal, something that shouldn't be done.
-So what?
'I can wriggle out of this easily.'
No matter the evidence, there were plenty to take the fall for Loengrin.
Rosés felt no crisis.
Thus, the reason he'd met this arrogant youth alone was simply.
"Spill where you got this. Obvious, probably—plenty want me gone. But better to be sure."
Snap!
Rosés snapped his fingers lightly, activating a certain holy rite embedded in the study.
A rite to block sound and vibrations from escaping—originally for hiding presence, but perfect for clandestine dealings.
Crackle!
At the rite's activation, figures appeared.
Sacred knights who'd been hiding with the same rite. Or rather.
"...Demifiends?"
"Hoh, sharp eye. Whatever, your identity can wait. ...Make that arrogant maggot kneel."
Rosés commanded, and the demifiends lunged.
As Rosés moved to sip his tea to the tune of the man's screams,
Crunch!
...one demifiend collapsed.
"...?"
It happened in a blink, leaving Rosés frozen teacup in hand.
And suddenly,
"Thanks. Didn't expect you'd set the stage so nicely. Wasn't hoping for this hospitality."
"Y-You?"
"Well, as a token of gratitude, first..."
Thud.
"I'll take two front teeth."
Pop!
A crisp, crystal-clear sound rang out, and Rosés's front teeth came out easily.
As if they were fake, but alas...
Splurt!
The gushing blood proved they weren't.
...Unfortunately.