Chapter 44: Honorary Count Deon Hart (9)
Chapter 44: Honorary Count Deon Hart (9)
The Hart County residence, famous for being personally granted by the Emperor.
Even there, in the secluded forest at the back of the manor, a servant stepped foot.
Anxious gestures, trembling pupils. As if his intentions were anything but pure, he scanned his surroundings several times before finally raising his head and letting out a light whistle.
Flutter.
A bird, the kind you might see anywhere, landed on his hand.
He gently stroked the bird, tied a white slip of paper to its leg, and without hesitation released it into the air.
He had hurried in his own way, knowing that stalling for time would only cause trouble if someone spotted him.
"Is it all done?"
"!"
Startled, he spun around.
A neatly dressed old man in a tailcoat stood beside a tree, watching him, having appeared from who knows when.
It was a face no one employed in this manor could fail to recognize.
Rememver, the butler of this estate, distinguished by his silver-blue eyes and hair gradually whitening to the same shade.
With an unreadable expression, he watched the bird flying off into the distance, then lowered his gaze to face the servant.
"I had anticipated it to some degree, but that you would actually be a spy, of all people."
"B-Butler."
The panic was brief. The servant shut his mouth, abandoning any excuses he was about to make.
What the butler had seen was far too clear to explain away. That left only one option: to kill him.
Fortunately, this was a deserted forest with no other witnesses.
And while his opponent might not be a stout man, he was old. Even for a mere ordinary person like himself, killing him shouldn't be a problem.
Of course, he knew that the old butler before him was no ordinary person, having once subdued even the Revolutionary Army, but since he planned to use a weapon, it would pose little issue.
Having made a swift decision, the servant surreptitiously gripped the handle of the dagger in his pocket.
Before he knew it, murderous intent swirled in his eyes as he watched Rememver, gauging his reactions.
"The mastermind..."
"Aaaah!"
"...I suppose I should find out."
Sever!
The servant's head was cut off.
The head hit the ground first, then his body, running belatedly, toppled forward.
Rememver remained standing in the exact same spot, watching the collapsing body.
He didn't step back despite the servant's sudden death. He didn't scream. Nor did he show any sign of surprise or bewilderment.
He simply stared at the scene with impassive eyes, then slowly shifted his gaze beyond it.
A man in black stood behind where the servant had been, having appeared from no one knew when or where.
Rememver took in the blood-stained sword in the man's hand and slowly finished his sentence.
"As for the mastermind, it's obvious enough without looking."
It was surely the Noble Faction, a hostile kingdom, or perhaps the Revolutionary Army.
If he had to guess the most likely candidate, it would be the Noble Faction — specifically, someone like Duke Stave Illustar, their head.
Planting a spy even inside the Count's residence required a considerable amount of influence.
In that sense, a hostile kingdom was far too distant to exert strong influence, and it was unlikely that the Revolutionary Army, who lacked even a proper foothold and had to stay hidden, could place a spy in a hero's manor.
Of course, that alone wasn't enough to be certain, but the bird that had just flown off meant another person would be extracting its information. There was no need to dwell on this particular servant.
'It might be a little dangerous, but...'
If he were alone, maybe, but the Count had a knight order with him, so worrying was a luxury. If anything, he should hope the blood-drunk knights wouldn't slaughter every last attacker.
He waved his hand dismissively at the man standing still as if awaiting orders.
Without sparing a single thought for the man who vanished in an instant, Rememver looked down at the corpse staining the forest floor red and spoke, tossing the words out casually.
As if this outcome was only natural, his silver-blue eyes held no discernible emotion whatsoever.
"By the authority vested in me as butler, I shall dismiss you from service."
"They say Deon Hart has gone to subjugate monsters along the border zone. And with only a single knight order at that, no less."
Duke Stave slowly curled the corners of his mouth upward as he burned the slip of paper in the candle flame. His eyes, brimming with composure, slowly moved to rest on Cruel.
Just like that one time before, the silent demand for an answer was palpable, and Cruel responded.
"I will submit an assassination request."
"That answer again."
"..."
"You said the same thing last time. Back then, I simply thought you had forgotten the option of using the Revolutionary Army..."
—But now that I see it, that doesn't seem to be the case.
A sharp glint flickered through his purple eyes. Cruel accepted the gaze in silence, his own eyes slightly lowered.
In the suffocating silence, the Duke, who had been meticulously scrutinizing Cruel's expression, opened his mouth again, as if probing further.
"Why is that? Using the Revolutionary Army would be far more efficient than putting out a request."
It was only logical that people driven by a clear sense of purpose would try to kill with more fervor than mere contract killers.
It saved money and ensured a more certain kill.
And yet, Cruel had been subtly steering things toward submitting a request.
"...It seems you have no intention of explaining."
"It was shortsightedness on my part."
"I doubt that."
"..."
When no answer returned, the Duke let out an exaggerated sigh.
He casually brushed the crumbled ash from his desk and spoke in a flat tone.
"Well, very well. Go ahead and handle it as you see fit. What matters is the result."
"...Thank you."
"But it would be best not to handle it clumsily. It will only make you look pathetic."
"I will keep that in mind."
The conversation was over.
As he picked up a new document and began scanning through it, the Duke glanced at Cruel's expression.
The man stood there, revealing not a single trace of emotion, as always.
Knowing that nothing could be gleaned from that face, the Duke fixed his gaze back on the documents and muttered quietly to himself.
'I prefer a dog that obeys well.'
Let us observe.
Whether you try any pointless tricks, or not.
"Are you serious?"
The man who had silently assisted Cruel even during the battles at the demon realm's boundary line found himself speaking without thinking.
Even though he knew it was rude to ask again, he couldn't help it.
"Yes."
"Will it be alright? His Grace the Duke surely..."
Because there was no way the Duke wouldn't find out.
Senzer was deeply worried about how the Duke would take Cruel's actions.
The Duke was both highly intelligent and deeply suspicious. It was obvious that Cruel's life could be on the line depending on how he interpreted this.
That was why Senzer had hoped Cruel would only act on the Duke's direct orders, but—
"It's not like I'm saying I won't submit the assassination request. It'll be fine."
Cruel was firm.
"Submit the request, but add a condition. Say that we will pay half the promised sum for simply inflicting an injury."
"The additional costs incurred by the new condition..."
"Will be covered out of my own pocket."
What on earth was he thinking?
Just what did he want to do to Deon Hart?
Unable to even guess at the true nature of his feelings toward Deon Hart, Senzer studied Cruel's expression before eventually giving up on the thought and bowing his head quietly.
Silence bred misunderstanding. But trying to explain after the fact would be useless — no one would believe me anyway — and if the monsters vanished in the meantime, we'd be in trouble. So, using "monster subjugation takes priority" as an excuse to hastily change the subject, I found myself watching the subjugation alongside Lady Rien from atop our horses.
There was a reason Lady Rien wasn't fighting.
First of all, the Murderous Knight Order's skills were as insanely good as they were deranged, and more importantly, someone frail like me absolutely needed at least one escort.
Being dragged out to a place like this was bad enough; dying here on top of it would be genuinely unfair. I might not be able to accept it and come back as a vengeful ghost.
And as for another reason — well, the sight of Lady Rien getting mixed up in that spectacle just didn't suit her?
"Yaaah!!"
"Hey, you bastard! What are you doing?! You're driving the monsters this way!"
"Is it my fault you're the easiest target?!"
"That son of a bitch wants to die!!"
"Shut up and kill him!"
Smack! Crack!
Blood splattered everywhere, and monsters were torn apart.
The way they were mincing those monsters, I almost thought you'd get something similar if you mashed red pudding with a spoon.
And Lady Rien was supposed to go into the middle of that kind of pack and fight alongside them?
It did not suit her at all.
Lady Rien was what you'd call the epitome of a knight.
She had a style of cleanly severing her enemy's head. If she got wedged into that mess, she'd be drenched in blood in no time even without doing anything herself.
That would be a rather unpleasant experience for her. As long as there was a chance it might lead to a resignation letter, I had more than enough reason to hold her back.
That was when I had been lost in thought for a while.
"You wretches! What is the meaning of this!?"
"...Hm?"
At the voice full of rage, I reflexively raised my head.
I was about to ask why she was angry, but my gaze was blocked by a massive wall and couldn't reach Lady Rien.
Instead, I found myself making eye contact with a pair of eyes right in front of my nose.
"..."
"..."
My thoughts stopped for a moment.
A pitch-black face, a gigantic body, eyes glaring at me with resentment and fury. And to top it off, bared fangs, huffing as if about to tear me apart any second.
So this was...
'Shit, what the hell is this?!'
I was so shocked I couldn't even scream.
Pale as a sheet and frozen solid, I just stared endlessly into the monster's eyes.
I'd have liked nothing more than to just pass out on the spot, but this body of mine, which had never once moved according to my will, betrayed my expectations yet again.
Normally it collapses at the drop of a hat, but why was it holding up so well this time? At least I could be thankful I hadn't shrieked pathetically. If that counted as a relief.
I struggled to un-freeze my body and barely managed to part my stiff lips.
"What... is the..."
"Because we thought we'd been hogging all the fun."
"When we came to our senses, this was the only one left. Most of them ran away."
"Just about every means it has to attack has been severed, so it might not be much fun, but it's better than nothing. You should enjoy yourself too, my Count."
"You were just watching out of consideration for us, weren't you? There was really no need to yield to us. It's touching, truly."
What the hell kind of nonsense was this? Enjoy it? Enjoy what, you lunatics? Did they think I was one of them?
I might have understood if it were a joke, but the fact that I could clearly feel they were dead serious was even more dismaying.
And Lady Rien's reaction was even worse.
"Ah, is that it?"
Why the hell was she agreeing?!
Putting the squad members' words together, what they wanted from me became clear immediately.
In short, they wanted me to kill this monster.
Since they said the Count should enjoy himself 'too', that meant they wanted me to kill it as brutally as they had.
Replicating that wasn't the hard part.
I hadn't come here to play, so I was fully armed myself. I just had to pull out one of the daggers strapped all over my body and tear apart the helpless monster in front of me.
'But I'm not exactly keen on it.'
It felt like doing that would break something inside me. Or no, maybe tear it apart is more accurate.
And so I was hesitating for a moment.
'...?!'
A chill shot down my nape, and a gut feeling like my hair was standing on end made me twist my body on pure reflex.
It was nothing more than instinctively turning my body to find the source of that spine-chilling sensation, but luckily, that was what saved me.
Thunk!
"Ugh?!"
"My Lord!"
The moment I felt an impact against my shoulder, a searing sensation bloomed outward.
Acting on instinct, I clutched my shoulder blade and twisted my head to see what had caused the pain.
"An arrow?"
Judging by its position, it seemed like it had originally been aimed at my neck.
A monster wouldn't shoot arrows, so was it an ambush?
Then who? As long as they didn't want war, no opposing kingdom would target us when we hadn't even crossed the border.
'...Keep calm.'
I hadn't survived on the battlefield for eight years for nothing.
My combat senses surged back to life, and my mind began racing.
I could figure out the context later. What mattered first was the number of attackers and their positions.
Quickly, I rolled my eyes and scanned the direction the arrow had come from.
'They sure brought a lot.'
They'd even come riding on horseback, yet I hadn't noticed until they were within arrow range.
Ah, right. The monster subjugation had been blocking my ears and eyes. Why did these things have to be so big and loud?
'Then...'
How should I handle this...
That was as far as my thoughts went.
The world washed over white, and my mind went blank.
And by the time everything returned to normal, it was all over.