Chapter 150
Chapter 150
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 150
Chapter Title: The New Duke
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Eugene stared at the elders with an expressionless face, and Lanslo quickly whispered to him.
“As I mentioned, the Bartla Ducal House holds a particularly special position in Brantia. The reason the elders are acting like this is because they’re worried you’ll use helping the ducal house as an excuse to cooperate in seizing Brantia’s throne.”
Even so, this was beyond shameless—it defied all common sense.
Eugene coldly scanned the elders.
“They say the older you get, the less shame you feel. Doesn’t matter if it’s the Bartla Ducal House or whatever—no exceptions.”
“What!?”
“You’ve lost touch with reality. My army is outside right now. What do you think would happen to this castle if I gave the order?”
“……!”
The elders’ expressions drastically changed at the blatant threat.
“S-Sir! Are you abandoning your honor? Such despicable methods are not befitting a true knight…”
Eugene whipped his head toward Bjort, who had hurriedly stepped forward, and spoke arrogantly.
“Sir. I’m a member of the Clan of Darkness before I’m a knight. Don’t you know our clan is inherently despicable? Oh, and if you’re going to say it, make it ‘vile’ instead. Sounds more refined.”
“Pardon?”
Just as they looked at Eugene with eyes screaming, *What kind of guy is this?*, one of the elders bellowed.
“What are you all doing? Seize that madman at once! How dare he threaten the Great Bartla Ducal House!?”
The soldiers scattered throughout the area rushed in with a roar.
They weren’t armed only with weapons. A significant number held shields shaped like mirrors made of silver and copper. They were so-called anti-vampire weapons.
Shing!
Luke and Lanslo reflexively drew their weapons.
“Hmph! You waltz in here with just three men and no guards, and you talk big? Apologize now if you don’t want to die!”
The elders and soldiers were brimming with confidence.
Even though Eugene was a vampire noble, he was fully clad in armor, and unfortunately, he had his back to the sun with his helmet on.
Of course, it was coincidental, but it was enough to classify him as a vampire who hadn’t fully overcome sunlight.
“Apologize at once! If you do so now and pay appropriate compensation, we’ll let you leave peacefully!”
“These guys are completely insane.”
“You…”
Just as the furious elders opened their mouths to shout something else, Eugene raised his left arm.
Wooong! Clank!
The magic shield transformed from the gauntlet into shield form.
“Gasp!”
“Paracletus! How is the Guardian of the Heavenly Dragon…!”
Not only the elders and soldiers, but everyone in the castle who had come to gawk at Eugene’s group was stunned.
With Laplace missing, the treasured heirloom that had vanished alongside him suddenly appeared right before their eyes—they couldn’t wrap their heads around it.
“Y-You… No, Sir, how do you have the Guardian of the Heavenly Dragon…?”
“Paracletus is the treasured heirloom of the Great Bartla Ducal House! Hand it over immediately!”
“Did you kill him? Did you dare harm Sir Laplace!?”
Eugene smirked at the elders, who still hadn’t grasped reality.
“Cut the bullshit. If you apologize now and pay appropriate compensation, I’ll let you off peacefully.”
“……!?”
Everyone’s eyes widened as Eugene parroted exactly what one of the elders had said moments ago.
No, mimicking was one thing, but wasn’t the situation completely different now?
“Didn’t you hear? Apologize and compensate. Then I won’t kill you.”
“What nonsense is this! Hand it over now! The Guardian of the Heavenly Dragon is the main house’s sacred relic…”
“The one who owns the shield can challenge for the dukedom, right?”
“H-How do you…”
The elders shuddered at Eugene’s icy voice. Then Bjort, who had been at a loss, hurriedly spoke to them.
“Elders! The knight who came with Sir Eugene is from House Durak.”
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Lanslo of House Durak.”
Lanslo stepped forward with a grin.
“Durak! The House of the Lake Knights?”
The reappearance of the lost heirloom wasn’t enough—now a knight from Durak, the only house in Brantia whose status could rival the Bartla Ducal House, had shown up. The elders were utterly dumbfounded.
And in the chaos, they realized how Eugene knew about the Guardian of the Heavenly Dragon.
“Hey.”
Thud.
Bjort caught the item Eugene tossed him, and his eyes wavered greatly. It was a rolled-up parchment.
Unrolling it and scanning the contents, Bjort’s expression darkened as he addressed the elders.
“Elders. This is Sir Laplace’s handwriting and seal. He wrote it before entering Marin Forest to subdue the monsters there…”
The parchment was the affidavit that Knight Laplace and his forces had drafted before entering Marin Forest.
It stated that regardless of what happened in the forest, they would hold neither House Bosch nor Count Krollmarin’s house responsible.
“Knight Laplace of the Bartla Ducal House was killed by the monsters in Marin Forest. I avenged him and obtained this shield. Even so, are you claiming ownership belongs to you?”
“Urk…”
The elders’ faces twisted immediately.
By Eugene’s account, he was the Bartla Ducal House’s benefactor, and the house owed him a massive debt.
Moreover, heirlooms or otherwise, it was customary for the one who avenged a fallen knight to keep their belongings—there was no issue with that.
If anything, they should be the ones begging Eugene for mercy and leniency to return it.
The elders quickly exchanged glances. Reading their expressions, Eugene instantly knew which way the wind was blowing.
Even he would make only one choice in this situation.
The dead can’t speak.
“Hey, old-timers. Make the right call.”
“……!?”
“This is your final warning—and your chance. Choose wisely.”
Tss tss tss…
A bizarre aura began to rise from Eugene’s shoulders, contrasting sharply with his bone-chilling voice. Though invisible, everyone could feel it.
At the same time, Eugene slowly removed his helmet.
Under the still-hanging sun in the sky, his black hair and red eyes boldly revealed themselves.
And that delivered a greater shock than the appearance of Paracletus or Lanslo’s identity.
The elders were so stunned that their mouths hung open, unable to speak for a while.
“The… Daywalker…”
Someone’s voice broke the silence, and the elders shuddered simultaneously, as if snapping out of a spell.
Daywalker.
The highest noble of the Clan of Darkness—a mythical being who had appeared only a handful of times in Brantia, where vampires were plentiful.
Such a being had appeared in Bartla Ducal Castle.
Possessing the house’s heirloom and commanding a knight from House Durak, no less.
“P-Please, Sir. We’ve made a grave mistake. P-Please return it. It’s an indispensable treasure to the Great Bartla Ducal House.”
“We apologize. So please return the Guardian of the Heavenly Dragon.”
Their attitude flipped in an instant, as if their earlier bravado had never existed.
Vampires rarely leave their territories because they can’t enter uninvited places.
Conversely, that meant all villages and castles were safe from vampire attacks as long as they didn’t invite them in.
Even if invited and accepted, mirrors reflecting light and silver weapons made countermeasures easy.
But that held true only against ordinary vampires. Against a highest noble like a Daywalker, the situation changed entirely.
From the moment such a being entered, all means of subduing it vanished.
“Sir! We beg you!”
“Please show mercy!”
The elders’ momentum had crumbled. But it was still far from what Eugene wanted.
“Begging, my ass. Is this how you treat guests?”
“What do you…”
“My throat’s sore. A precious guest like me shows up, and you’re still lording over us from up there. Is that the way of the Great Bartla Ducal House?”
“Ah!”
The elders flinched and hurried down the stairs one after another.
Dressed impeccably but frail and unimpressive, the five old men lined up before Eugene. The size difference now had them looking slightly up at him.
Clank.
Eugene reverted the magic shield, Paracletus, to gauntlet form and looked down at the elders.
“I’ll ask. The owner of this shield can challenge for the dukedom. Correct?”
“Y-Yes… that’s correct.”
With no means to control the highest vampire noble, they couldn’t play word games anymore and nodded frantically.
“If you wish, we’ll formally proclaim your challenge for the dukedom and prepare the knight’s trial.”
“First, the Guardian of the Heavenly Dragon…”
“What if there are two?”
“……?”
At the sudden question, as the elders’ eyes widened again, Eugene continued.
“This isn’t the only heirloom of the Bartla Ducal House, is it?”
“H-How do you know that too…”
“Doesn’t matter what you old fogeys know. Anyway. What happens with two?”
“Uhmm. Well…”
The hesitating elders quickly exchanged glances among themselves and replied.
“You can skip the knight’s trial and immediately exercise authority as ducal proxy.”
“Proxy?”
They added hastily, preemptively terrified by his mere question.
“Of course, it grants nearly the same authority as the official duke.”
“That’s right. And this isn’t widely known, but the last three who were called Duke Bartla were actually ducal proxies. Anyway, first, the Paracletus…”
Shing!
“Eek!”
“S-S-Sir! What are you doing!?”
Eugene abruptly drew his sword, and the elders recoiled in terror.
Bjort and the soldiers, knowing they were no match, still raised their weapons.
“Watch closely.”
Eugene slowly waved Wolfslaughter, which gleamed mysteriously in the sunlight.
“With two for now. That means, from this moment, I’m the Bartla ducal proxy. Right?”
“Gasp!”
“Wolfslaughter! How is the Wolf-Slaying Sword…!?”
*How do you have two heirlooms? How can a vampire wield a sword infused with monster-slaying steel and silver?*
The questions, laden with multiple implications, were swiftly resolved.
A Daywalker who feared not the sun could naturally wield weapons lethal to monsters and undead.
“Well? Am I, Yann Eugene, now the Bartla ducal proxy?”
“……!”
The elders’ eyes shook violently amid their shock, mouths agape.
Denying it now would be impossible—they’d said too much themselves.
To deny it here would be to smear their own house’s honor with shit.
Arrogant and somewhat shameless they might be, but the Bartla elders weren’t so utterly depraved as to know nothing of honor.
“Y-Yes. We elders recognize you… as the ducal proxy of the Great Bartla Ducal House…”
Ziiing!
At that moment, a chilling vibration rang out, drawing all eyes to the source.
Woooong!
The black demonic spear let out a cry of ecstasy, soared into the air, circled once like a living creature, and settled into Eugene’s hand.
“……!”
In the face of this inexplicable sight, the elders froze like statues. Eugene’s voice drilled into their ears.
“I have Madarajika too. That makes three in total. Still just a proxy?”
“M-Madarajika! The Ogre Hunter too!?”
Paracletus, Wolfslaughter, Madarajika.
Three of the Bartla Ducal House’s Four Great Heirlooms gathered—an unprecedented event that left the elders reeling in shock, their aged bodies swaying.
The Guardian of the Heavenly Dragon and Wolfslaughter were well-known heirlooms even to them.
But Madarajika had gone missing over fifty years ago, its whereabouts unknown. The youngest elder was seeing it for the first time.
*He who seizes all the heirlooms by his own power shall be Bartla’s lord, prime knight, and guardian of glory, no matter who he is.*
The founding Duke Bartla’s precept, handed down for centuries, echoed in the elders’ minds.
“Ah, aah!”
“Great gods. Spirits of Bartla…”
The five elders gazed reverently at the three heirlooms and slowly bent their creaky old knees.
Then, as if by vow, they cried out in unison, brimming with emotion.
“We pay homage to the new Duke of the Great Bartla Ducal House!”
At that signal, everyone in the ducal castle knelt one knee in turn toward their new sovereign, bowing their heads.
“We pay homage to Your Grace!”
“Your Grace!”
A massive wave seemed to emanate from Eugene at the center.
And it felt like an omen for the Bartla Ducal House’s future.
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