Chapter 50
Chapter 50
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 50
Chapter Title: Raise Muscles Instead of a Baby!
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No way could I beat Marc in a straight-up fight.
Marc was every bit as huge as Dietrich.
And not only that—the lackey named Stefan standing behind him was even bigger than Marc.
Exaggerating a bit, those two looked at least twice my size. Going toe-to-toe with them head-on would be downright stupid.
'We're not even the same age or strength. Fair fight? Give me a break.'
So, I had no choice but to use every trick in the book.
I charged at Marc while he was still blinded by the sand, rubbing his eyes furiously, and socked him right in the face.
I felt my fist connect solidly with his cheek.
Of course, right after that, Stefan—who'd been standing nearby—grabbed me and flung me to the ground, leaving me rolling in the dirt.
But watching red blood from his nose stain the sleeve he was scrubbing his eyes with? That made the ache in my bruised butt from hitting the ground feel not so bad after all.
Marc finally blinked his eyes open. Seeing the blood streaming from his nose, his whole body started trembling.
"Y-You...!"
"Heh. Does it hurt?"
Marc alternated between glaring at the bloody sleeve and my face, his lips starting to pout.
That's right. In a kids' fight, the first one to get a bloody nose loses.
So lose like a loser, Marc. Quit picking on the little kids and go cry to Mommy and Daddy.
"You little brat...!"
But even as his eyes welled up, Marc didn't back down.
He snatched up the wooden sword he'd dropped during the earlier commotion and raised it high toward me.
If that thing came down full force without him holding back, it'd hurt bad. I threw up my arms to shield my head.
I rolled sideways to dodge the swing, and the wooden sword slammed down with a sharp crack exactly where I'd been standing a second ago.
It gouged out a chunk of the dirt floor.
'Is he insane?!'
My palms were scraped raw from rolling, stinging like hell, but I didn't have time to sit still.
The moment I grabbed at the dirt for another handful of sand to throw, Marc swung the sword at me again.
With a sharp crack, an ice shield sprang up in an instant, encircling me completely.
Marc's sword crashed into the ice barrier and didn't come anywhere near me.
The moment Marc whipped his head around with a mix of shock and fury on his face...
"How dare you cause such a commotion?"
Huh?
I jolted in surprise at the voice—colder and deeper than I'd expected—and looked up.
There stood Grandpa.
A pale blue shimmer rippled around him.
Pale-faced Laura stood behind him.
The second our eyes met, she started waving her hands frantically, trying to tell me something, but I couldn't make it out.
'I specifically told her to get Dad!'
If Dietrich was off fighting some other kid, Dad was the only one who'd take our side.
I couldn't jump into a brawl without an adult, so I'd sent Laura to fetch him. So why'd she bring Grandpa instead?
Grandpa swept his gaze over us with eyes even icier than the shield he'd conjured.
Marc with blood trickling from his nose, Stefan hiccupping in shock at the sight of Grandpa, Joachim on the verge of tears.
And me, covered head to toe in dirt from rolling on the ground.
"Grandfather, what happened was..."
"All of you, follow me. You'll explain yourselves in my office."
Grandpa cut Marc off cold and turned to walk away.
I had no choice but to trail after him, and Laura came rushing up to stick by my side. She looked like she was about to burst into tears herself.
"I'm so sorry, miss. I was rushing to fetch the master when I ran smack into His Grace the Duke. He demanded to know where I was going in such a hurry, and I just... I ended up telling him everything..."
So it wasn't Laura's fault.
Even his own granddaughter like me shrank back in fear of Grandpa—not to mention Marc.
A mere maid like Laura couldn't have refused to answer the Duke's question.
"Sh-Should I go get the master right now?"
I glanced at Grandpa's back, along with the horde of secretaries following him, and shook my head.
"No. Don't tell Dad."
"Are you sure you'll be okay on your own?"
Better me stepping up alone than this.
If Dad found out Marc had tried to hit me with a wooden sword, he'd never let it slide.
And if things blew up from there, Marc might be the one in the wrong, but Dad would just end up on Grandpa's bad side for no reason.
'I can't let Marc slink away scot-free.'
I patted Laura's anxious arm—she kept stealing nervous glances at me—then picked up the pace to catch up right behind Grandpa.
So this is Grandpa's office.
Stepping inside for the first time, it had a profoundly solemn vibe.
A faint scent of leather from the book bindings hung in the air, and the walls held battle-worn helmets and swords.
Grandpa sat behind the massive wooden desk and once more scanned me and the other kids lined up in front of him.
"You first. What happened?"
Marc, whose nosebleed had finally stopped, was called on first.
He flinched, hunching his shoulders, then craned his neck like a turtle to peer up at Grandpa.
Even then, he didn't forget to shoot sharp glares at me and Joachim.
'That little...?'
I subtly hid from Grandpa's view and raised my fist.
Locking eyes with Marc to ask if he wanted another one, he twitched his lips.
"Stefan, Joachim, and I were coming back from sword training when this common... kid showed up out of nowhere and started throwing fruit and sand at us."
"Is that true?"
Grandpa turned to me after hearing Marc's version—one that conveniently skipped all the parts that made him look bad.
"Yeth."
"Why did you do such a thing?"
"Marc hits Joachim. Teases him callin' him a beggar too. Says Stefan's family borrowed money from his house and won't pay it back."
"Hey, that's a lie! I didn't do that, Grandfather!"
"If Marc din't say it, how'd I know? I never met Joachim or Stefan before."
"You must've heard it from your uncle! Your family are pros at slandering ours!"
How dare he drag my dad into this?
Does he think my dad's just like his uncle?
"Enough."
Thanks to Grandpa's chilling intervention, we both shut our mouths, but Mariella and Marc were still fuming and grumbling under our breaths.
"Mariella."
"Yeth."
"Even if what you say is true, that doesn't give you—as a member of the branch family—any right to strike Marc, the direct heir of the main line. Understand?"
Marc perked up instantly at those words, puffing up with arrogance.
He raised and lowered his brows at me like see?
"Isn't that right, Grandfather?"
But I couldn't back down that easily.
If I apologized and slunk away now, Marc and his uncle would just get even more full of themselves going forward.
"On the way here, Dad said he, me, Dietrich, and the prince should all use the same barracks."
"And?"
"Dad said it's the old way. If enemies come from outside, the family sticks together. The Northern Army always unites as one and wins."
"Did Leopoldt say that?"
"Yeth."
Grandpa fell silent for a moment.
Instead of chewing me out, he lapsed into thought, which made Marc the antsy one.
He burst out in a rage, trying to corner me.
"Why are you bringing that up now? You—a branch family girl—hit your cousin, and that's what you have to say?!"
"Marc gonna be duke later, right?"
"Of course!"
"Then can't hit family. Marc play nice with us, take care of us, then later good duke. We're all Northern people together."
"Don't make me laugh. When I become duke, I'll rule you all strong and dignified. A mere branch family nobody like you...!"
Gotcha.
I giggled inwardly while putting on a slightly cowed expression at Marc's vicious threat.
"Marc, do you really think that?"
Because Grandpa would step in for me!
"W-Well, I want to be a great and powerful Northern Duke like you, Grandfather."
"...We've ruled the North for so long because loyal branch families and vassals have steadfastly supported the main line."
"But they're all our subjects! Of course they should be loyal! Why do I have to worry about what the vassals think?"
The more Marc argued back, the colder and harder Grandpa's face grew.