Chapter 110
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 110
"Karl, my son… Where have you gone, leaving your mother behind? Karl…"
"Countess."
Peter patted the Countess on the back, comforting her in her grief. Seeing how close they seemed, the butler couldn't bring himself to ask for the man’s name again.
After comforting the Countess for a long while, just as her sobbing began to subside, Peter whispered in a casual, passing tone.
"This is no time for tears."
Gasping for breath, the Countess froze. As she wondered if she had misheard, the same voice drifted into her ears.
"If you only weep like this, who will avenge the Grand Duke?"
The Countess, who hadn't even registered whose arms she was crying in, reacted sharply to the word vengeance. Only then did she properly look at the person holding her. When their eyes met, the strange man, whom she had never seen before, mouthed a silent message.
"The Grand Duke did not take his own life."
"..."
"He was murdered."
The whisper was like a spell.
The Countess's vacant, unfocused eyes suddenly grew sharp. They flared with a fierce intensity, as if about to emit light, and Peter whispered again.
"I have something to tell you."
Glaring at Peter with burning eyes, the Countess sprang to her feet. Her sudden movement startled the butler and the maids. After sending them out, she locked the door of the prayer room herself.
"It wasn't suicide?"
"No, it was not."
As Peter spoke with absolute certainty, a shudder ran through the Countess. She began to laugh through her tears. Sobbing and beating her chest, she muttered, "Yes, I knew it was strange. My son was such a coward. There was no way he would have jumped from such a height. It makes no sense."
As the horrific image of her son falling to his death flashed through her mind, her grief and anger intensified.
"He must have begged for his life. Trembling with fear, he would have pleaded with the person who came to kill him."
The image of her son clinging to his killer's trousers, begging for mercy, shattered the Countess’s reason. Just moments ago, she had been too weak with grief to even stand, but not anymore. Seeing her turn toward him with eyes blazing with madness, Peter inwardly rejoiced.
The Countess asked, "Who are you?"
Peter showed her the Insignia of the Luxen King's Representative.
"I am a servant of His Majesty, the King of Luxen. His Majesty deeply laments that the star of Pelfe has fallen."
The Countess stared at the insignia in silence for a moment before asking, her expression noticeably calmer, "Who pushed Karl to his death?"
"Who do you think?"
Without a moment's hesitation, as if there was no need to even think, the Countess said, "The King."
The sneering, hateful face of the King of Pelfe rose before her like a phantom.
"He has hated Karl and me since childhood. He never considered his own mother's incompetence, always despising us as if I had stolen her place!"
"Everyone knows of that."
"He even hated that the Former King bestowed the title of Grand Duke upon Karl. Sitting on the throne himself, he still despised my son, who had to make do with a mere grand duchy! Karl was just as much the King's son as he was!"
"You must have suffered so much all your life."
"And in the end, he killed him. After stripping him of his title and wealth, he finally… finally did it!"
"You must lower your voice."
As the Countess choked back her wails, Peter spoke with a grave expression, as if imparting a crucial secret.
"The King was not the only one involved in this."
"Then who else…"
The Countess's voice trailed off. Peter waited patiently for her to reach the conclusion on her own. Her eyes darted back and forth as she connected the dots, and a moment later, she arrived at the exact answer Peter wanted.
"...Oscar von Reinhardt."
"Yes, that is correct. His Majesty, the King of Luxen, was truly appalled by the atrocious deeds of his own noble."
"I should have known the moment that subhuman beast approached my son…"
"The Marquis treats people like chess pieces. He doesn't hesitate to kill those who are no longer useful, and he even refers to it as 'disposal.'"
"'Disposal'?"
Tears streamed down the Countess's face.
"How dare he… 'dispose' of my son?"
"He and the King of Pelfe must have been of one mind."
Peter nudged her, letting her imagination run wild. In the Countess's mind, a vivid picture formed of the King of Pelfe and Oscar conspiring to murder her son.
Her boundless grief was instantly replaced by an equally immense rage.
"Help me. I want to avenge my son, no matter what it takes!"
The Countess's eyes burned like erupting volcanoes. Peter put on a troubled expression.
"It will not be easy. Your opponents are the King of Pelfe and the Marquis of Reinhardt."
"I have no desire to live any longer. If I can exact revenge on those monsters, what do I care for my own life?"
When Peter remained silent, the Countess grabbed his hand tightly.
"Please, help me. Surely the King of Luxen has a way."
Peter let out a heavy sigh, his face darkening with solemnity. "There is one way. However, it is something only you can do, Countess."
"What is it? Just say the word!"
A mother who had lost her child feared nothing. Seeing her ready to face death itself, Peter cheered inwardly.
It worked.
"First, let us get you up."
The Countess, who had looked half-dead moments ago, sprang to her feet. She began to move exactly as Peter directed.
Shortly after, a carriage was prepared at the back gate of the estate where the funeral was underway. Two figures, completely concealed in hooded cloaks, secretly boarded. Carrying the two passengers, the carriage sped toward a destination somewhere in Pelfe.
* * *
What the hell?
What is going on?
The eyes of Reinhardt's greatest Gold Digger darted frantically.
What kind of shitshow is this?
Dismay filled his shifting, glossy eyes. The situation unfolding before Abel Sting was something he had never imagined in his wildest dreams—or rather, a nightmare he feared would haunt him.
He was currently inside a carriage, which was hurtling madly toward some unknown destination.
The carriage wasn't particularly spacious. A single glance was enough to take in the entire interior.
Then, of all things, his eyes locked directly with those of the red-eyed devil. The moment their gazes met, Simon's crimson eyes swept up and down his body.
What are you looking at?
The creepy Simon von Bernheim had a knack for drilling his thoughts straight into another person's ears without even opening his mouth.
Abel scowled.
What is he, a rabid dog? Snapping just because our eyes met for a second.
As he grumbled inwardly and averted his gaze, someone suddenly nudged his foot. Though he already knew who it was without looking, Abel glanced down anyway. His forehead, which couldn't possibly furrow any further, hardened like stone.
"..."
This carriage—the land-based equivalent of a high-speed vessel—was a Reinhardt combat carriage. Coated in a special finish that prevented any light reflection, it was constructed from wood famous for being both resilient and incredibly sturdy, making it impervious to most attacks. In short, it was an eye-wateringly expensive carriage.
Its only drawback was its size. Since it was a combat carriage rather than a ceremonial one, a larger size would make it too conspicuous to enemies, and its sleek design was far better for maneuverability. Thanks to this, it was currently flying at a speed no ordinary carriage could ever hope to match.
The carriage’s maximum capacity was four. 'Maximum' didn't mean it sat four comfortably; it meant four people could, in theory, cram themselves inside. Abel had never seen more than three people ride in this carriage at once.
The problem was that the carriage currently held its maximum capacity of four, and those four were not squeezing themselves in equally.
The problem was, two of the four occupants—exactly half—had no intention of squeezing. They didn't even entertain the possibility that they should. Since those two had no concept of "fairness" to begin with and never considered compromising their own comfort, one couldn't exactly demand anything of them.
So what choice was there? The remaining two had to shrink themselves as much as possible.
The passengers were Oscar, Simon, Seo-ah, and Abel. There was no need to ask which two had to do the squeezing.
"You want me to ride in this? Why?"
Just before boarding, Abel had seen Oscar and Simon already occupying their respective seats and practically begged Barbara for an explanation. But she ignored him, simply loading Seo-ah's luggage into the carriage. Faced with Barbara's stern attitude, which clearly conveyed "stay behind if you don't like it," Abel had no choice but to shut his mouth.
All the while, he thought to himself that there was definitely some sort of goddamned team competition going on.
Seo-ah had struggled just to get into the carriage.
And no wonder. By the time she boarded, the carriage already looked completely full. Still, being petite, Seo-ah managed to squeeze in somehow. Surprisingly, Oscar even showed the courtesy of shifting his body slightly to let her pass.
But when Abel tried to shove himself in right behind Seo-ah…
In truth, the trouble had already begun then.
In the dim interior of the carriage, a blue-eyed wolf glared at him. Those piercing blue eyes seemed to say:
Why the hell are you getting in?
Though he felt wronged, Abel desperately climbed aboard anyway.