Szczecin Household (4)
"Captain Russell."
"How in the world did you come by such knowledge?"
He pressed the question as if he'd been waiting for it.
"If I said I read it in a book... you wouldn't believe me, would you?"
"Publishing a book like that would land the author on the gallows in no time. And needless to say, no forbidden tome would just be left lying around the inner castle anyway."
Calix racked his brains desperately.
Telling the truth—that he'd lived and died in another world before possessing this body—would only make them think he'd been poisoned and lost his mind.
A clumsy cover-up might even backfire and make things worse.
What he needed was a brilliant idea to fool this upright knight completely.
Then, like a bolt of lightning, one item flashed through his mind.
"Do you remember the dagger that pierced my chest?"
"Why bring that up all of a sudden...?"
"It was a family heirloom passed down from my mother. Legends say it holds mysterious powers. And this time, I obtained that power."
"Such a... thing happened?"
Russell responded with evident discomfort.
Calix didn't let up, pressing on relentlessly.
"Who could have guessed the secret to unlocking it was stabbing the dagger into one's own heart? Surviving the Slowly Creeping Death I drank, and gaining this unfamiliar knowledge—it's all thanks to that."
"Quite the marvel. A treasure like that should have a famous name..."
Doubt still lingered in his eyes, but Calix was certain his words were taking hold.
"Have you ever heard of 'Crea's Dagger'?"
"...What did you just say? That rusty old dagger wasn't just your lady mother's heirloom—it's actually Crea's Dagger?"
In truth, Calix had no idea what the dagger that stabbed him even looked like. He hadn't inherited those memories.
But there was no need to worry.
The tale of Crea's Dagger wouldn't become known to the world for a long time yet.
"That's what the knowledge I absorbed tells me."
"...I've heard of it. The story of a very special dagger inhabited by the vengeful spirit of the legendary assassin 'Crea,' said to pass on her power and knowledge."
In fact, 'Crea' was a woman, and inheriting the dagger's power required being female.
No bizarre ritual like stabbing one's heart was needed either—just a drop of blood on the blade.
But that was a secret no one knew yet.
Calix said nothing, merely wearing a faint smile.
For now, silence was enough.
"It's a hard tale to swallow, but... considering how you neutralized the Slowly Creeping Death and even poisoned Laila into submission, I can't dismiss it as pure fabrication. Hah!"
Russell gazed at Calix with a strange look.
It resembled the proud eyes of a grandfather watching his grandson grow.
"If it's Crea's Dagger, it's a treasure among treasures. And from a legendary assassin, descendants harboring grudges might still linger. This must be kept utterly secret. You haven't breathed a word to anyone else, have you?"
Russell's demeanor suggested he'd silence anyone who had, permanently.
"No. You're the first, Russell."
"Good. Be cautious yourself, young master. A careless word can return as a blade."
"I will. By the way, what do you make of Laila's statement?"
"...I'm not sure what you mean."
"She said Count Collin's movements were all being leaked."
Russell's body twitched. Calix had thrust straight at the truth he'd been avoiding.
"A knight aiming for Class 7 dies without dodging a monster ambush? Along with his entire escort of knights? Believing that until now would be naive."
"Ugh..."
He closed his eyes, deep in thought.
Calix's reason for bringing it up was simple.
He wanted Russell's power on his side.
But siding with one heir meant abandoning his vow to stay out of politics.
Reasonable suspicion about Count Collin's death.
There was circumstantial evidence, but no hard proof.
Complicated thoughts swirled in Russell's mind.
Sensing his ironclad convictions beginning to waver, Calix drove in the final wedge.
The motive that ignited humans most fiercely.
Revenge.
"Think carefully: why your lord perished, if it was assassination who was behind it, and how you'll avenge him once you uncover them."
Calix's voice wasn't loud.
Yet it pierced Russell's ears like a devil's whisper.
"The Kosalin family, highly likely one of the culprits. Then the countess from there, and Gramvine huddled in her skirts. When he inherits the title, can you truly exact revenge? Or have you resigned because it's 'realistically' impossible? Is that true knighthood?"
After long minutes with eyes shut in turmoil, Russell slowly knelt.
"I swear my loyalty to you, young master. But remember this: I've cast aside the convictions I've upheld for over sixty years, right here."
He declared it before Calix.
"Now I am the incarnation of vengeance, ready to cleave anything blocking my path—even my sworn lord."
Calix smiled in satisfaction at Russell's words, which spared even himself no mercy.
He'd fitted a leash of desire on a tiger that walked only the path it deemed right.
Riding a charging tiger risked being thrown and devoured, but it could reach the goal far faster.
A risk worth taking.
Not just a Class 6 powerhouse, but currently the county's top authority. Securing his oath of loyalty? This risk is nothing. Seizing the county's power will be much easier now.
Feeling upbeat, Calix flashed a grin and joked.
"Captain Russell, rise. A Sword Owner pledging loyalty to a greenhorn without even a knighthood? I'm afraid of who might see."
A knight fallen from conviction.
Reason enough for self-reproach.
To keep him from crumbling mentally, Calix needed to boost his ego just right.
But Russell's reaction differed slightly from expectation.
"Worry not, young master. I will make you strong, no matter what!"
A chill ran down his spine.
The vibe suggested he'd drag Calix off to basic training hell for five weeks right now.
Time to redirect his zeal.
"Ha, ha, ha! More pressing matters first. The countess used vile poison, and left key evidence and a witness. This could dismantle her faction entirely. The first step in revenge."
Mention of vengeance ignited flames in Russell's eyes.
"Well said. What must this old man do?"
Just say "bite them!" and he'd charge off to do it.
But nobles had their dignified ways.
"For now..."
Calix and Russell's discussion stretched on.
Dawn was breaking.
With preparations complete, Calix slumped into his chair, exhaustion hitting.
Too many events in a row? It felt like a sleepless week.
Though less than 24 hours had passed since opening his eyes in the Eren Continent.
He rested briefly in the prep room adjoining the county castle's Grand Hall.
A spot where servants waited before serving banquet food—and the best place to eavesdrop on the hall.
The Grand Hall, where all major and minor county affairs were debated and decided.
From early morning, nobles gathered in twos and threes.
The one who summoned them: Stera Countess, the mastermind behind Calix's poisoning.
She sat smugly on the jade throne reserved for the count alone.
The vassals flinched at the sight, but none dared point it out.
They'd sensed something massive had gone down overnight.
With the entire knight order on high alert all night, how could they not?
"Everyone's here."
She masked her lower face with a small fan, feigning sorrow in her voice.
"Some of you may know already, but yesterday the first young master attempted suicide again. This time with Slowly Creeping Death."
"Tsk tsk, isn't that the infamous suicide poison? Better abandon hope of survival."
As if on cue, Chief Treasurer Gidrus chimed in.
He was infamous as the countess's closest confidant.
Reactions split: some stifling laughs, others gloomy.
About a year ago, Count Collin—Calix's father—led the Blue Lion Knights' elites on a joint monster subjugation and got massacred.
Since then, the county's vassals divided into three factions.
Those insisting first son Calix inherit, those pushing clever Gramvine, and neutrals.
But with Calix dead, factions meant nothing. Only one choice left.
Unease swelled among them.
Meanwhile, sensing the moment, Calix asked Russell, waiting beside him.
"Ready?"
"Even if your path leads to hell itself, I'll walk it with you. My lord."
Viscount Russell Naigel.
As county regent, he was the vassals' focal point—practically the arbiter of the succession struggle.
Moreover, the only Sword Owner remaining in the county.
In the Lock Kingdom, dubbed the land of knights, Class 6—Sword Owner—held meaning beyond mere strength.
If Class 4, User, was the gateway to knighthood, Sword Owner was the pinnacle.
Beyond lay the continent's top 100 powerhouses, practically in the heavens.
In a kingdom where knights formed the ruling elite, gaining Sword Owner status made one an object of envy.
The immense prestige was only natural.
But...
The vassals' eyes weren't on Russell.
They fixed on the slender, beautiful youth entering with him.
The boy's face was still pale, his frame gaunt as ever.
Yet the vassals felt they were seeing someone entirely different.
His eyes.
Gone were the fragile orbs that seemed ready to spill tears at a touch.
In their place burned fiery passion and mountain-like resolve.
In truth, the vassals' shock at the boy's entrance was minor.
Stera Countess, who had ordered the hit herself and received confirmation of success, looked ready to faint.
"Ca... Calix... how...!"