Chapter 162
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 162
‘Damn it.’
The moment Malcolm saw Vincent’s gaze, he knew his son had made a mistake.
Unlike Malcolm, who had weathered many storms, his young son was likely unaccustomed to such tense negotiations. If he tried to hide a secret poorly, it was bound to show on his face.
Sure enough, Vincent soon spoke with a peculiar smile.
“So that’s the artisan’s spirit? To challenge it even if failure is certain? Impressive. You don’t even seem to have enough for travel expenses, yet you’re pouring your entire fortune into a single attempt.”
“...How many things in this world can one be truly certain of? Sometimes, you have to pour everything you have just to seize the opportunity to try.”
“True enough. The unfortunate part is that success rarely comes on the first try. But for some reason, I have a feeling you might succeed right away.”
“...!”
Even Malcolm, who had been maintaining his composure as best he could, failed to hide his bewilderment this time.
Had this man really figured out exactly which phrase his son reacted to in that brief exchange? He knew the man was a seasoned knight, but he hadn't expected him to be this sharp.
‘This is bad.’
Malcolm felt cold sweat soaking his back.
In the past, the Ancient Metal Smelting Method was nothing more than a laughingstock, but now it was a peerless treasure. He had no idea how the knight before him would change if he discovered Malcolm possessed such a secret. In the worst-case scenario, the man might kill them both to seize the method.
Malcolm was seriously considering whether he should flip the table and run right then and there.
“My apologies. My tone must have caused a misunderstanding. Even if you have a secret, I won’t pry it out of you by force. So, relax your face. You look like you’re about to kill someone.”
“...”
Despite Vincent’s words, Malcolm couldn't lower his guard. Everything would be over the moment Vincent, who held all the cards, changed his mind.
Eventually, Vincent clicked his tongue and revealed his true intentions.
“Since it seems you don’t trust me, I’ll be honest. We didn’t just come here to mourn Sir Eisen. We came to request an audience with Duke Lucian and seek enlistment.”
“...?”
Malcolm blinked at the unexpected statement. It wasn't as if the Duke was desperate for knights, so seeking enlistment out of the blue at a time like this seemed strange. Without a recommendation or connections, it was almost impossible, wasn't it?
Noticing Malcolm’s look, Vincent gave a bitter smile.
“Actually, I have a history with the Duke. It was a brief connection, but enough that he wouldn't refuse an audience if I requested one.”
“...!”
“The problem is, it’s not the kind of connection where I can ask for favors beyond a simple meeting. There’s a good chance His Grace might refuse my request, so I want to have some insurance.”
“Insurance, you say...?”
“For example, winning the Duke’s favor by recommending an exceptional artisan.”
Only then did Malcolm understand what Vincent was getting at. Right now, the Duke needed a blacksmith who could smelt Ancient Metal. In other words, discovering and recommending such a blacksmith would be a significant merit for Vincent.
“I don’t think it’s a bad deal for you either. What do you think? If you have the skills, wouldn't it be better to get a direct chance to show them to the Duke rather than competing in a contest?”
“Hmm.”
Malcolm fell into deep thought at the unexpected proposal. As Vincent said, there was nothing better than showing his abilities directly to Lucian. Unlike a contest, everything wouldn't end with a single failure. The Duke would likely watch patiently to see if he could produce results over time. If even a small, meaningful result appeared while the Duke’s patience held, he would be recognized immediately.
‘The problem is whether I can trust this knight.’
He seemed to be speaking openly, but one could never truly know another person’s heart. Accepting a good offer too hastily could lead to even greater trouble. However, he wasn't sure if he could escape safely if he rejected the proposal.
“...Then, would it be possible to meet the Duke immediately?”
After much deliberation, Malcolm offered the best compromise he could think of. If the man truly had a connection with the Duke, they should be able to meet shortly after requesting an audience. If Vincent hesitated or gave a vague answer, Malcolm planned to flee instantly.
Vincent nodded with a smile at Malcolm’s response.
“As soon as my companions return, we’ll go request an audience.”
“What? The Black Lions are here?”
“Yes. They identified themselves as Vincent, Widro, Jude, and Martin.”
Lucian’s eyes widened at the familiar names. Weren't they the ones who had accompanied him to Bornholm under Grand Duke Sigmund’s orders? He hadn't expected to see them again unless he marched on the House of Valdek, yet here they were, seeking him out first.
“They said Your Grace would only know their names and didn't provide their surnames, so I wondered if they might be imposters...”
“No, that’s correct. I only heard their names when we met before. That actually makes me more certain. Bring them in at once.”
At Lucian’s command, the official bowed and moved hurriedly. A moment later, four familiar faces from his past adventures appeared before Lucian.
“It has been a long time, Your Grace. Do you remember us?”
“Of course I do. It has been quite a while. It feels like only yesterday we left for Bornholm together.”
“We feel the same. Is Captain Raymond doing well?”
“He’s doing so well it’s almost a problem. What about you all? Have you been well?”
“...Unfortunately, we haven't. Everything went to ruin after the Second Young Master declared himself the Family Head.”
Vincent sighed deeply and vented about the hardships they had endured—how Jordi didn't care for honor at all, how the Black Lions had become a private organization for Jordi’s personal gain, and how they had eventually reached their limit and left Valdek.
“I don’t regret that decision even now, but we couldn't help but be strapped for cash. So, we shamelessly relied on our old connection and came to find Your Grace.”
“I see. Have you come to request enlistment?”
“Yes. Though it is a shameless request...”
“Understood. Swear your loyalty here and now.”
“Pardon?”
Vincent and his group were taken aback by the immediate answer, given without a hint of hesitation. They had come prepared to be coldly rejected, but it was going much smoother than expected.
“Your Grace. Is this truly alright?”
“What is?”
“Our enlistment. Your Grace is currently pursuing a greater cause. If word gets out that you’ve accepted the Black Lions, your reputation might be tarnished...”
“Tarnished? Nonsense.”
Lucian snorted at Vincent’s concern. From Lucian’s perspective, their worries were practically meaningless.
‘I value legitimacy and justification, but there’s a limit.’
In times of chaos, there was no such thing as a loyal subject without a single flaw. If he rejected every beneficial opportunity just to remain 'perfect,' he would be setting himself up to be remembered by history as 'a loyal subject who was destroyed by a vile scheme.'
Above all, the Black Lions were top-tier knights who were also skilled in covert operations. To cast aside such high-level talent just to appear 'clean' would be like announcing his own stupidity to the world.
“Stop with the useless talk and swear your loyalty here. Once the oath is done, I’ll put you to work immediately.”
“Y-Your Grace.”
“You must be tired, so rest well for the next month. I’ll have quarters prepared for you in the White Castle. Oh, and I’ll provide two months’ salary in advance as a signing bonus, so use it as you need.”
Moved by the unexpectedly generous treatment, Vincent and the other Black Lions looked at Lucian with tearful eyes. For a moment, the image of the late Grand Duke Sigmund seemed to overlap with the current Lucian.
Vincent wanted to kneel and swear his loyalty right then and there, but he still had information to deliver.
“We are grateful for your overwhelming generosity, but before we swear our loyalty, there is information we must share.”
“Information?”
“We met a blacksmith at an inn in the outer castle who claims to be able to handle Fairy Light. To be precise, he says he inherited a book containing the smelting method through generations of his family. Could he be the talent Your Grace is looking for?”
“...!”
“So, you’re saying you won’t help at all? Even though it’s to avenge our father?”
“Brother, please, calm down. What do you want me to do when I simply don't have the means?”
Joshua, once the Fourth Young Master of Valdek, was at his wit's end. He thought he had finally escaped Jordi, only for Tristan to barge in and demand money.
‘Damn it, I want to tell him to get lost, but...’
Joshua’s eyes flickered toward the window. Beyond the glass, the spears and swords of the army Tristan had brought glinted in the sunlight. If he lashed out at Tristan as he felt like doing, those weapons would be pointed straight at him. No matter how much he disliked the situation, he had to watch his tongue if he wanted to stay alive.
“I can hear your brain working from here. Are you looking for an excuse to kick your brother out?”
“Please, give me a break. There’s really nothing I can do for you. What do you expect from a tiny Viscounty like this?”
“You’re laying it on thick. To my eyes, you seem quite well-off.”
Tristan gave a sharp smile and stroked the ebony table. It was a silent pressure—asking how he could afford such luxurious furniture but not have money to help his brother. Unable to bear the mounting pressure, Joshua finally exploded in frustration.
“I didn't buy this! This was purchased by my maternal grandfather, the previous Family Head! Are you going to use household goods brought in decades ago as an excuse to borrow money?!”
“The previous Family Head, huh.”
At Joshua’s words, Tristan closed his eyes. The contrast between his current situation and Joshua’s was too stark.
“Right, you’re a Viscount now. Impressive. To think you’d bounce back after being kicked out by Jordi and inherit your mother’s side of the family.”
“...I was lucky. If my maternal uncle hadn't died of illness a few years ago, this never would have happened.”
“That luck is what’s impressive. Unlike you, luck hasn't been on my side.”
Joshua couldn't say anything to the sorrow in Tristan’s voice. It wasn't an exaggeration; Tristan had been terribly unlucky. Not only had he witnessed Grand Duke Sigmund’s death, but he had also lost his position as successor, and his mother, Lady Veronica, had been captured. Recently, even the support from his maternal family had been cut off after his grandfather died and an uncle he didn't get along with became the Family Head.
It was a world of difference from Joshua, who had escaped with his own mother, fled to his maternal family, and eventually inherited the title.
‘I heard rumors that Lady Veronica died long ago and Jordi is just covering it up...’
Though it was only a rumor, Joshua thought this horrific story was more credible than one might think. If Veronica were alive and well, would Tristan be targeting Valdek with such murderous intent? He would have hesitated to show his teeth out of concern for his mother’s safety.
The fact that he was openly preparing to attack Valdek suggested the rumor was likely true, and that Tristan knew it.
Joshua felt a pang of pity for the fall of the eldest son, who had once been considered a leading candidate for succession alongside Lucian.