Chapter 46
Chapter 46
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 46
Chapter Title: Victor’s Suspicion
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It was the night Julius cautiously laid bare his inner thoughts to Jerome.
In another place, there were those who likewise couldn’t sleep because of Jerome.
“This is weird. Something’s off. That guy’s aura has definitely changed.”
Victor kept tilting his head, as if he couldn’t wrap his mind around it.
Humans don’t change that easily. Absolutely not.
Just as a fly can’t turn into a butterfly, a person who’s a worm at heart can never shed their base, lowly nature.
Not even a few years ago, that guy would drop his gaze to the floor the moment their eyes met.
Victor had acted furious during his exchange with Jerome at the banquet hall, but in truth, he hadn’t been angry in the slightest.
No tiger flies into a rage at the yapping of a puppy.
Of course, it was deeply unpleasant that his father, Duke Dmitri, had sent him to play the fool in such a farce.
But personal feelings were just that—personal. As a member of the family, it was his duty to carry out the orders given by the family head.
So the moment Jerome arrived at the banquet, Victor had picked a pointless quarrel.
He’d found Wolfgang’s constant excuses eyesore and pathetic, but the fact that his father had dispatched him here meant Wolfgang’s reports weren’t complete nonsense.
And yet, the worm who couldn’t even meet his eyes properly...
Had brushed off Victor’s intimidation with astonishing calm.
So much so that Victor wondered if this was truly the same guy once branded a “worm.”
For a fleeting moment, an absurd thought crossed his mind: maybe it was just an empty husk, the soul swapped out.
“At the very least, seeing him converse with Prince Julius suggests the rumors aren’t entirely baseless.”
Lennon, captain of the Silver Eagle Knight Order, nodded in agreement with Victor’s assessment.
Jerome hadn’t looked like the Shield Family’s perennial headache in his eyes, either.
“Hmm... So how should we respond? I didn’t account for that idiot changing like this.”
Victor muttered as if he’d never imagined he’d be agonizing over someone like Jerome.
If Jerome wasn’t a worm after all, and the Shield Family was truly forging closer ties with the royal family, then the power they’d been steadily chipping away from the crown could shift dramatically once more.
Victor wanted no part of that scenario.
No one in the Sword Family craved the completion of the tower his father and liege, Braum van Dmitri, had built more than Victor did.
It was only natural.
When Braum passed, all that glory would fall to him.
“What do you think, Wolfgang?”
Wolfgang was stunned by Victor’s attitude—questioning him so casually after the brutal tongue-lashing earlier that day, as if nothing had happened.
But Wolfgang concealed his inner turmoil and replied evenly.
He was the Sword Family’s hunting dog. A dog had to move as its master commanded, or it would be boiled alive as a useless mutt.
“As you know, Great Young Master, the Spring Festival drags on not just because of the endless banquets.”
“Who doesn’t know that? That’s not what I’m—”
“Enough.”
Lennon started to rebuke Wolfgang, but Victor extended an arm to silence him.
“Continue.”
With Victor’s permission, Wolfgang picked up as if uninterrupted.
“Once the welcome banquets for nobles from all regions end after the first three days, the monster hunts begin.”
“So? What, you want to scare Jerome a little?”
No matter how much behavior changed, deep-rooted prejudices weren’t shaken off easily for a human.
In Wolfgang’s eyes, Victor still saw Jerome as a worm.
Jerome the Third Young Master’s reputation isn’t set in stone yet. We need to kill him now.
To Wolfgang, missing this chance meant no more natural opportunities to eliminate Jerome.
Now was the time—while the worm stigma still clung to him, at this very moment.
Having sorted his thoughts, Wolfgang spoke to Victor.
“No, Great Young Master. I wouldn’t suggest something as trivial as scaring him. Drive the monsters in the hunting grounds toward the Third Young Master. If the herd finishes him, perfect. If he slips out somehow, seize the chaos to...”
Wolfgang paused, his eyes gleaming coldly.
That icy gaze sent even Victor feeling a faint chill.
“You kill Third Young Master Jerome yourself.”
The voice that emerged from Wolfgang’s lips was colder than his stare.
“Kill the Third Young Master?”
Lennon, captain of the Silver Eagle Knights, furrowed his brow at Wolfgang’s resolute words.
“Is there any need to take on that much risk? If it provokes Count Carviot’s wrath, it could turn into a grave mistake.”
Count Carviot, ruler of Banten, was no mere border lord.
He stood as an absolute superhuman, rivaling their own lord, the great sword of Ikenia, Victor van Dmitri.
Thwarting the Shield Family’s alliance with the crown was essential, but slaying that man’s blood kin?
If anything went wrong, it would spiral beyond control.
Wolfgang shook his head slowly, as if he’d anticipated Lennon’s reaction.
“Not at all, Captain Lennon. Fail to kill him now, and Third Young Master Jerome will grow into a massive obstacle blocking the Sword Family’s future.”
“Evidence?”
Victor cut straight to the point with his curt question.
“You’re not basing this absurd judgment solely on beating you in that ridiculous food contest, are you?”
Victor’s skepticism was understandable.
Wolfgang hesitated briefly, wondering if he should reveal the elf princess scheme.
Misstep, and it could tarnish Duke Braum’s honor, his master.
But the hesitation didn’t last. Without it, he couldn’t convince Victor.
“Not just that, Great Young Master. After failing to secure food from Philador Kingdom, I took independent action...”
Wolfgang recounted how he’d used the elves to set the trap.
“...”
Victor’s eyes grew peculiar upon learning Jerome had shattered that flawless scheme.
“Hmm. So you’re saying...”
His gaze fixed unyieldingly on Wolfgang, who spouted this outlandish claim.
“Jerome crushed your plot to abduct the elf princess and rescued her?”
In truth, there’d been major clashes with the Holy Empire too, but even Wolfgang hadn’t realized that far.
“Yes. So Young Master Jerome is no longer the worm he once was...”
“Do you take me for a fool?”
Victor interrupted Wolfgang’s tirade with a cold face.
“Didn’t you say he moved ‘with’ the elves? Where’s the proof he resolved it himself?”
“...!!”
Wolfgang pressed on desperately. Victor didn’t believe Jerome capable of handling such an incident.
“No, Great Young Master! The Jerome I clashed with must have resolved this too! Please, trust me just once...!”
“Enough. I can’t stomach any more.”
Victor raised a hand to silence him.
“I’ve no reason to hear excuses from a dog that lost a fight. And when scheming to fracture the crown and Shield Family, I’ve even less to share with someone whose best idea is that crude assassination.”
“...!”
At Victor’s glance, Lennon nodded curtly and gripped Wolfgang’s shoulder.
“Baron Wolfgang, leave us. You’ve nothing more to say here.”
Even as Lennon’s powerful grip dragged him out, Wolfgang refused to yield.
“Great Young Master! No, we must kill Young Master Jerome this time...!!”
Bam!
After Lennon ejected Wolfgang and shut the door, he sighed.
“Tch. He was fairly competent once. No idea when he turned into such a fool, blind to reason.”
Hearing Lennon’s lament, Victor snorted.
“Hmph! Never liked him from the start, clinging to Father like that. A mere baron acting like Father’s closest confidant.”
Lennon shrugged slightly in agreement.
“So, what’s your plan?”
“What else? Show it to the royal family’s idiots.”
Shing.
Victor drew a precious treasured sword, highly valued even in the Sword Family, and held it aloft.
The blade caught the flickering room light, reflecting coldly.
“The vast gulf in caliber that leaves no room for delusions.”
A long smirk curved Victor’s lips as mirrored in the steel.
The night after sharing sapphire dragon liquor with Prince Julius passed, ushering in the second day of the Spring Festival.
Little had changed from yesterday.
The western and southern nobles still solidified their bonds among themselves.
The northern and eastern nobles quietly spent time with their own cliques.
The banquets, formalities long ossified.
Yet even these rote gatherings held meaning.
In the original history, after the great famine, most eastern nobles loyal to the crown would have mingled with western and southern factions by now.
And one subtle shift from yesterday.
“Good day, Young Master Jerome. First time seeing you at the Spring Festival.”
“Ah, Lady Marone. Nice to meet you.”
“I’d always heard you kept to yourself in the family estate, so I assumed you had no interest in events like this—such a shame. If it’s not too forward, may I claim one dance today?”
The woman extended her hand.
Daughter of Viscount Marone, whose lands neighbored ours.
“Of course, my lady. Shall we?”
Such scenes repeated several times.
From northern and eastern nobles alike.
The north recognized my shifted standing in the Carviot count family, given our proximity.
The east, half-doubting but having witnessed my rapport with Prince Julius yesterday, now sought to win me over.
Yes, this much I’d predicted. But the odd part was...
They’re too quiet.
The Sword Family stayed silent.
If eyes were watching, they’d see northern and eastern nobles gradually gathering around me as a bridge.
With Victor’s arrogant nature, he’d have already used yesterday as pretext to provoke me.
Dueling challenges, or siccing knights to stir trouble.
But Victor acted utterly indifferent to my actions, tending only to western and southern nobles.
Whatever. If nothing happens, it’s fine by me.
As I resolved to ignore it, assuming he’d watch during the banquets...
Thud!
“Urk!”
A dull impact echoed from the western and southern nobles’ gathering.
“You bastard! You splashed soup on my clothes?! Do you know how much this costs?!”
A portly noble thrust out his sleeve, smeared with a speck of food, jumping in rage.
“Wh-what are you talking about, young master?! He was passing by, but you deliberately bumped into him!”
Another noble protested his innocence against the fat noble’s antics.
Guren, son of Count Poltus.
Unlike his plump appearance, he was talented, already a mid-level Expert at a young age.
And the one beaten by Guren, along with his supporter protesting...
Were the ones who’d introduced themselves to me as heirs of Sapan, Mano, and Jackson territories.
In other words...
Part of Charlo’s crew, Saladin’s younger brother.