The Holy Blood Is a Forgery
The note delivered through the butler contained only two words.
Holy Blood. Forgery.
The reason the Duke flew into such a rage over those mere two words was simple. The Holy Blood, stored for centuries in the deepest part of the Winfred ducal vault, was not the genuine article but a counterfeit.
Holy Blood. The blood of a god, infused with divine power. One of only five Unique-grade items in existence on the continent. The explanation required no further elaboration. In a world where the entire empire worshipped the gods, the Holy Blood was an object whose value could not even be measured. And so, blinded by that very value, the ducal house had created a forgery of the long-lost relic centuries ago. Of course, a deception of that scale would have been impossible without the imperial family’s assistance.
‘It’s one of the deep, dark secrets shared between the imperial family and House Winfred.’
I slowly lifted my head.
“…”
The Duke glared at me with narrowed eyes. It was only natural. The shameful secret that no one should ever have known had just been exposed by a mere bastard son.
“You sent a note.”
A moment later, his voice, thick with fury, struck my eardrums.
“Claiming the Holy Blood is a forgery.”
Crack—
The note clutched in his right hand crumpled mercilessly.
“Speak. Tell me exactly what led you to that conclusion.”
He looked ready to draw the sword at his waist and sever my neck at any second, but I had no reason to be afraid. In this room, I held all the cards.
“I found it.”
“Found it?”
“Yes. I found the real Holy Blood, not the counterfeit stored in the vault.”
“…”
I had found the Holy Blood. And not some worthless fake, but the genuine article. At that shocking revelation, the Duke’s pupils trembled violently.
“…Nonsense.”
He denied it. Or more precisely, he doubted me. His eyes clearly said he could not trust the words of a worthless bastard. It was understandable. Discovering a legendary object that only appeared in ancient tomes would naturally provoke such a reaction. But from my perspective—someone who had experienced both possession and regression—it was merely amusing.
“Are you hoping it’s nonsense?”
I met the Duke’s gaze and let out a small, dry laugh. His eyes flashed with murderous intent. I could clearly read the killing aura that screamed he wanted to slaughter me where I stood.
“The reason I’m certain the Holy Blood kept in the vault is a forgery is simple. Recently, due to a certain event, I discovered the Holy Blood. And over the past several months, I’ve verified multiple times that what I found is the genuine article.”
I stared directly at him and continued.
“It is a law of this world that two Holy Bloods cannot exist beneath the same sky. In other words, doesn’t that mean the one stored in the ducal house is the counterfeit?”
My words seemed to strike a nerve. The Duke ground his teeth. Yet he made no further movement. It appeared he had realized I had not come here simply to spout empty threats.
“Who could have imagined it? That House Winfred would conspire with the imperial family to commit fraud in the name of the gods.”
Quite the bold accusation. I swallowed the rest of the sentence.
“…”
A heavy silence settled over the study. After letting out a short sigh, he asked me,
“…Where did you find it?”
“Do you really think I’d tell you just because you asked?”
“It seems you don’t value your life. There is always the option of killing you right here.”
“Would I have walked into this room of my own free will without any countermeasures? Go ahead and try. If you’re so eager to see your house exterminated for blasphemy.”
Kyle Winfred was a coward. He was stupid, vile, and arrogant in everything he did. Under normal circumstances, he would have folded immediately at such a threat and revealed every card in his hand. But that was not the case now. I intended to squeeze every last drop of profit I could from this deal with the ducal house.
“Hah. How amusing.”
The Duke’s voice was calm, devoid of any emotion, but I knew. He was quite shaken by the sudden change in Kyle Winfred’s demeanor.
“If by chance the Holy Blood you claim to have discovered is not genuine…”
That will never happen. After experiencing both possession and regression, would I really mistake something so simple?
“…Then you had best prepare yourself. Death will be the least of your worries.”
“As you wish.”
“Do you think I’m joking?”
“Enough. We’re short on time, so let’s get straight to the answer. Will you make the deal?”
I asked, eyes gleaming. The Duke tapped the floor lightly with his foot, lost in thought. A moment later, his tightly sealed lips finally parted.
“So.”
“What do you want?”
Finally, the main topic. This was not something that required any hesitation. I had already decided long ago what I would demand in exchange for the Holy Blood.
“Annulment of the engagement.”
“…”
“I want the engagement with Isabel to be broken off.”
First and foremost, the dissolution of my engagement with Isabel, without question.
“Very well. I accept.”
The Duke nodded readily. From the way his voice had softened considerably, it was obvious he thought breaking the engagement in exchange for the Holy Blood was an excellent bargain. Of course, that was far from the truth. I was not foolish enough to be satisfied with just an annulment.
“A blank check.”
“What?”
“Issue a single blank check in the name of House Winfred.”
The price I had chosen was money. In this damned world, the only thing one could truly trust was money.
At my demand for a blank check, his poker face finally cracked.
“I refuse.”
“Why?”
“There will be no blank check issued to a wretch like you. Certainly not one bearing the guarantee of House Winfred.”
“Hah.”
How ridiculous. Even in this situation, he was still spouting such nonsense. A hollow laugh escaped me involuntarily. If that was how he wanted to play it, then so be it. I had no choice but to revive the experience I had accumulated over years of playing the villain in the previous round.
“Do you want your house exterminated?”
“…What?”
The Duke blinked stupidly, as if he had misheard.
“I asked if you want your house exterminated.”
“You’ve finally gone mad.”
“You’re the one who’s mad. If it becomes known that a prestigious ducal house created a forgery of the Holy Blood and deceived the citizens of the empire, do you truly believe the imperial family will admit to their collusion and take your side? Don’t make me laugh. Why would they choose that when they could simply wipe out House Winfred and fill the national treasury? Even a flower garden in one’s head should have its limits.”
At my deranged threat, the Duke laughed as if it were absurd. Regardless, I drove the nail in deeper. If he refused the deal, I would erase the name Winfred from the continent entirely.
“A blank check.”
“…”
“There will be no compromise. Belger Winfred, just looking at that damned face of yours still fills me with irritation.”
After all, he was the one who had thrown Kyle Winfred’s life into the gutter simply because he was a bastard. ‘Thanks to him, the previous round was pure suffering.’ That was probably why my words came out so harshly. The number of scenarios he had ruined for me was more than I could count. A coldly calculating, utterly selfish, and despicable man. The choice he would make was already decided.
And that choice was…
“…Fine.”
Yes. Exactly that.
I nodded and met his eyes once more.
“Let’s start with the contract.”
“Contract?”
“Yes. In any transaction, one must first draw up a contract, wouldn’t you agree?”
How could I possibly trust you?
I shot him a look full of suspicion.
“Let’s use a Geas.”
“…”
“I’d like the highest grade possible. That way I can feel at ease trading with you.”
A Geas. A type of contractual ritual performed by staking mutual mana. Because it was sworn upon one’s mana, violating the contract came with severe consequences. Since they were exclusively issued by the Holy See, the price was steep. Moreover, the highest-grade Geas required a cardinal to personally notarize it, making it nearly impossible for anyone of ordinary status to obtain.
“…”
The Duke’s face flushed crimson then paled. I remained seated, the corners of my mouth lifting ever so slightly.
“Take your time considering it.”
Consider it all you want. As if any other answer would appear.
The deal concluded smoothly. I received the Duke’s personal confirmation that the engagement would be annulled and even succeeded in extracting a blank check that would serve as my future operating funds.
That very evening, the Duke immediately gathered a small group of elite personnel and left the mansion. He was heading to the location I had indicated to retrieve the Holy Blood. Thanks to that, the mansion was unusually quiet.
I, too, stayed shut inside my room and enjoyed the peace until the Duke returned. Yes, everything was perfect.
Except for one thing.
Scenario Progress: 3%
“Why the hell is this going up again?”
The main scenario had not even properly begun yet. Which meant that at this point in time, that damned progress bar should not be rising. The cause was also unclear. After all, I had not once left the mansion so far.
“Did the scenario get twisted?”
It was entirely possible that the scenario had gone off track because I was searching for Holy Relics instead of properly acting like a villain. Or perhaps there was another scenario route I was unaware of. I had to keep every possibility open. This damned system was perfectly capable of pulling some absurd stunt at any moment.
“Hoo…”
I looked at the food laid out before me. The dishes had quite an appetizing appearance that stole one’s attention. But one should never be fooled by their splendid exterior. Medieval cuisine always had something missing for a modern person’s palate—whether it was lacking seasoning, having a dry texture, or some other flaw.
Still, I had to eat to keep my strength up. I moved to continue my meal.
That is, until the urgent voice of the old butler came from beyond the door.
“Y-Young Master…!”
It was a voice far more agitated than his usual calm tone. As I rose from my seat to open the door, an odd sound began to leak through from the other side.
“No matter how much… even if you are the young lady… acting so recklessly is unacceptable…!”
The old butler’s flustered voice came in fragments. I walked over and opened the door.
And then.
“…!”
The person who appeared through the gap in the open doorway was none other than Isabel.
I glared at the butler standing beside her. He avoided my gaze with an apologetic expression. I turned my head to look at Isabel.
Her hair was wildly disheveled, and her eyes were red and bloodshot. I didn’t know what had happened, but it was quite a departure from her usual graceful appearance.
She kept her head bowed low and carefully clutched the sleeve of my garment.
“…Kyle.”
Her trembling voice was faint yet desperate. As if she were regretting everything that had happened until now.