Szczecin Household (2)

A small silver jar.

It seemed to have been shoved into a corner and forgotten during cleanup.

He crawled over urgently and pried open the lid. A foul stench assaulted his nose.

It was rotten goat milk.

It must have been sitting there since before his suicide attempt.

But the smell made it hard to bring to his lips.

Can I really call this yogurt?

The poison known as Slowly Creeping Death would completely vanish from the game a few years after the start.

That was because word would spread that a simple fermented drink called yogurt was the perfect antidote.

He wasn't sure exactly what year it was in game time right now, but since the poison was still in use, it had to be early game.

The problem was whether rotten goat milk could truly be called yogurt.

Of course, his mind was convinced this was the answer, but the stench made him hesitate to actually drink it.

"More reliable proof..."

Just as he tried to ignore the hard-won solution and cling to a sliver of hope—

The third warning message appeared. He'd lose consciousness in one minute. No time left.

"Crunch! Laila, you're dead. I'll make sure to get revenge!"

Calix ground his teeth. No other way.

He closed his eyes and gulped down the rotten goat milk.

"Kuwaaack!"

He vomited endlessly, as if his esophagus were burning away, then blacked out.

When he opened his eyes, the old knight named Russell stood beside him with a worried expression.

"Are you coming to?"

"What? Déjà vu? Or did I die and restart?"

"What...? Pull yourself together. What happened to your room? And why are you sleeping on the floor? I tried waking you, but you wouldn't stir, so I was about to call a healer."

"Haa... Guess I survived."

Calix let out a sigh of relief.

He couldn't tell if it was because he'd vomited the poison right away or if the rotten goat milk had indeed been the antidote as expected.

The important thing was that he was alive.

Dragged to an unfamiliar world, and just thirty minutes after waking, force-fed poison and staring death in the face—it forged an iron resolve in his heart.

He never wanted to feel that terror of facing death again.

I'll... survive no matter what it takes.

He shed the petty constraints that had bound him before.

If pain and death were real here, then this was reality.

This isn't Earth—it's the Eren Continent. I'm in a noble house rife with intrigue. The power struggle has already begun, and failure means death. No time to slack off. Get it together!

Calix squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them and first summoned the status window of the man before him.

Hmm, viscount... and Count Regent?

Calix quickly recalled info from Heroes Destiny.

A Count Regent was usually a temporary position that arose when the previous count died suddenly without naming a successor.

Often filled by the captain of the territory's direct knight order. At 58, he wasn't active-duty. Probably a former captain.

Favorability of 72 means he's highly respected. With someone like that as regent, there hasn't been major chaos. Stubborn loyal soldier disposition—no worries about betrayal or coup.

Plus, Russell was the one who used top-grade potions without hesitation to save the original body's suicide attempt.

Someone trustworthy, or at least politically aligned.

But trusting him with the near-poisoning incident was another matter.

No evidence.

Laila was thorough enough to retrieve even the remaining potion bowl. The vomited poison mixed with stomach acid—doubtful if this world's tech could prove it.

Still, better safe...

"Russell... um, Count Regent."

Unsure how the original Calix addressed him before arriving in Eren, he hesitated, then used the title cautiously.

Thankfully, Russell's reaction was utterly normal.

"Yes, Young Master. What is it?"

Gauging his mood and relaxing, Calix explained what happened step by step.

"So..."

Unfortunately, Russell's response was exactly as Calix predicted.

"...I'm sorry, but as Count Regent, I have a duty to manage the territory impartially until a successor is named. If your claim is true, the culprit behind the poisoning is likely Stera Countess, but she's the mother of Gramvine, the other heir. Publicizing this without evidence could backfire on you, as it might heavily influence the succession."

"Evidence? My stepmother is from Kosalin Viscountcy. And the maid who just brought the medicine belongs to that family too. Isn't that enough circumstantial evidence?"

He tried persuading earnestly, but Russell was unyielding.

"Laila is a maid under Stera Countess, so Kosalin affiliation is no issue. Accusing without solid proof or witnesses just gives ammunition to the opposition. You must act more wisely."

Watching Russell maintain strict neutrality, Calix finally grasped his disposition fully.

Damn! He didn't save me because he's on my side—he's just a total stickler for rules!

Irritated, Calix raised his voice.

"So I should just sit back while a maid from my rival heir's faction brings me medicine in this precarious situation?!"

"Sigh, it seems you've truly lost part of your memory, Young Master. The Szczecin household is in dire financial straits, with budgets slashed to the bone. We're grateful Laila helps with family duties. You know this—or are you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠deliberately ignoring it?"

Stung by Russell's pointed remark, Calix calmed his excitement and took slow, deep breaths.

He might give away that he'd lost his memories.

As cold reason returned, his mind raced.

Fine, then I'll get the evidence. That bitch ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠who poisoned me probably thinks I'm dead, right?

Among the countless scenarios from the game, there were many like this.

He simulated future events in his head step by step.

Finally, calculations complete, he spoke to Russell.

"Alright, we'll skip that. But I have one request. You can grant that much, right?"

Russell felt a strange sense of unfamiliar confidence from Calix.

Just before dawn, as the moon set—when watchmen felt the deepest fatigue.

A small shadow climbed the inner castle walls barehanded, without gear.

Her thin leather night suit clung tightly, revealing her figure perfectly.

Full breasts, slim waist, wide hips—the intruder was clearly a woman.

She scaled the walls—tall enough for twenty grown men—like a spider, reaching a small vent with iron bars.

She pulled out an oil-soaked cloth and rubbed the bars.

To slip through the narrow gaps, too tight for anyone but a child.

Guards patrolled, but never dreamed someone would infiltrate via the sheer outer walls' vent.

Striking at this blind spot, she reached the count's castle's most secure area—heading for Calix's bedroom.

No guard at the door?

Laila felt intense unease and hesitated. But she couldn't dawdle.

Might be for the best. Finish the job quick.

Kiiik—

The hinges screeched like thunder. Laila watched warily for a long time, ensuring no one came.

Seemingly unheard. She sighed in relief and entered.

Glancing at the bed, white sheets covered up to the face. Like a corpse.

She started to pull them back but stopped. No time.

With the guards on high alert and security tightened, something's wrong with the Young Master. No need to check the body.

Perhaps unconsciously avoiding it, since it was a mission she hadn't wanted.

A bitter smile escaped her.

She'd convinced her superiors for a rare poison. He'd gone peacefully, without pain.

She soothed her faintly pricking conscience.

Turning, Laila pulled a paper from her bosom and placed it on the desk. Then took Calix's seal from the drawer.

Stamping the pre-signed suicide note completed the task.

Forensic analysis might reveal mismatched handwriting, but no matter.

The security chief was now in her faction starting today.

That was when it happened.

"Don't move."

A cold metal blade touched her nape.

"One twitch, and I'll sever your head without mercy."

She knew the voice's owner.

Russell Naigel, called the last loyalist of Szczecin County.

Former captain of the Blue Lion Knights.

A Class 6 swordmaster.

Any funny business, and her head would roll before she blinked.

With a slightly trembling voice, she said,

"It's too late. Calix is dead. The late Count's blood now flows only in Young Master Gramvine."

Laila's top priority was survival, above all. She couldn't die pointlessly here.

"Revealing his assassination now would just sow chaos. The county would be devoured by hyenas."

She desperately persuaded Russell.

"The one you serve loyally isn't some young master—it's the Szczecin family, isn't it?"

But the reply came not from Russell, but another.

"Just as I expected."

She knew this voice too.

But she couldn't believe it.

It was Calix, the young master she'd poisoned.

Laila's face was ghostly pale.

"H-how?!"

"Slowly Creeping Death... Quite the thrilling experience."

Calix picked up the suicide note from the desk.

Not his writing—the forgery Laila had just failed to plant.

"Poisoning is small fry in noble house intrigues. I know that. But you know getting caught is trouble."

"Tch!"

Laila clicked her tongue and whipped out a dagger in a flash.

Planning to take the nearby Calix hostage and escape.

But she had no real grasp of a two-class gap.

Before she could step toward Calix, a black shadow shot like lightning.

It grazed her dagger wrist.

A bone-cracking sound, then a scream.

"Aaaagh!"

Despite Calix being within arm's reach, she couldn't move.

Instead, clutching her dangling wrist, she collapsed there.

Calix gazed indifferently at the fallen woman and continued.

"And even if caught, you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠must never leave physical evidence or witnesses. Assassinating a noble carries heavy punishment—even for another noble."

Pointing to the forged note in his hand.

"Physical evidence here..."

Locking eyes with Laila.

"And witness right here?"

The moment their ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠eyes met, Laila felt her body freeze.

Like a herbivore facing a ferocious predator's killing intent.

She fainted on the spot.