Chapter 19: Blind Trust (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 19: Blind Trust (1)
Roman's question was direct.
"Hans. Have you ever seen me taking drugs, or been in a situation where you suspected I was?"
"Excuse me?!"
Hans gasped in surprise.
Drugs?
Having expected a routine errand, Hans couldn't hide his bewilderment at the sudden interrogation. Seeing that reaction, Roman grew certain. Hans had meticulously managed Roman's daily life since long before the possession. He would definitely have the answers Roman needed.
"I am not testing you, nor do I intend to blame you," Roman said. "I simply wish to take some time to reflect on myself. I want to confirm how I lived—not through my own memories, but from a third-party perspective."
He offered no further excuses.
Memory loss due to possession would normally require a lengthy explanation, but Roman knew his current position made such justifications unnecessary.
It was a calmly posed question, but the dilemma was entirely Hans's to bear.
After a rare moment of hesitation, his expression turned serious as he made up his mind.
'The Young Master Roman I've served recently is not someone who speaks lightly. If he truly wants an objective perspective on his suspected drug use, I should tell him the truth.'
"...I have never seen you use drugs. However, there was a time when your behavior was rather strange, Young Master."
"When was that?"
"It was about a fortnight ago. You attended a social party for the first time in a while. That in itself wasn't unusual, but your state was... off, after you returned. From that day on, you avoided going out. You shut yourself in your room and demanded excessive amounts of alcohol every night, your face completely lifeless. That was why I suspected you might have dabbled in banned substances at the party."
The day Roman committed suicide.
Hans had suspected drug use when he looked at the man now possessed by Baek Joong-hyuk. Since narcotics were a rampant issue among the nobility lately, it was a perfectly reasonable suspicion to have regarding the Fool of Dmitry.
However...
"Other than that, there are no other circumstances to speak of. And now, I know how foolish that thought was. There is no way a young master as strong as you would touch such trashy drugs."
It was a suspicion that remained just that—a suspicion.
Hans believed in Roman. The sheer brilliance Roman had displayed during the subjugation of Blood Fang was something a drug addict could never achieve.
'A social party.'
Roman fell into thought.
It was a familiar clue. The original Roman's personality shift had occurred right after attending one, and not long after, he had made the extreme choice of suicide. Furthermore, the malicious rumors Flora had heard supposedly originated from a social party as well.
If so...
"Who hosted the social party I attended?"
The root of the problem. That was what mattered most.
And the answer was:
"You attended a party hosted by the Barco family."
Barco.
In an instant, the situation entered a new phase.
Hans's explanation was simple.
"You had known the eldest son of the Barco family for a long time. Although your relationship grew awkward once marriage talks with the Lawrence family began, there was still no noble youth who hung out with you as often as he did, Young Master Roman. So, attending the Barco family's social party wasn't particularly strange. Even though political interests became complicatedly intertwined, it didn't mean your prior relationship just vanished."
The eldest son of Barco.
Antony Barco was a man whose reputation was just as terrible as Roman's. That was exactly why they got along. Hailing from powerful families in the northeast region, the two men with trashy reputations often hung out together.
'They probably weren't close friends. With similar reputations, they likely just hung out as drinking buddies. But that relationship became tangled up over Flora. Antony Barco wanted to marry Flora, and Roman was no different. In the end, Roman won that battle. The Lawrence family, who utterly rejected Barco, decided that Dmitry was the better choice.'
The puzzle pieces fell into place.
Barco's invitation. If Roman's state had turned strange from that exact point onward, ultimately leading him to choose death, the cause was undoubtedly Barco.
'In a situation like this, the most reasonable deduction is that Barco drove Roman to suicide. If Dmitry and Lawrence unite, Barco won't be able to claim Flora, let alone Lawrence's fertile lands. The simplest way to solve that problem is to prevent the marriage from happening in the first place. Considering Hans mentioned that Barco had previously wanted a marriage alliance with Lawrence, their only remaining options would be to induce an engagement cancellation or create a situation where the marriage becomes completely impossible.'
The picture was clear.
The faction that benefited the most from Roman's death was Barco. Though he didn't yet know exactly how they had induced the suicide, they had clearly tried various methods to achieve their goal.
Spreading malicious rumors to force an engagement cancellation.
And finally, driving Roman to commit suicide.
'Trash exists wherever you go.'
The truth wasn't anything grand. However, it was deeply displeasing. Since he had decided to live Roman's life, the name Barco now grated on his nerves.
It was then that Hans spoke up.
"...Actually, an invitation to a party arrived from Barco a few days ago. I couldn't deliver it to you because you had entered closed-door training, Young Master. How should we handle this?"
"Barco invited me?"
"Yes."
A smirk escaped Roman's lips.
They were openly looking down on him. They were bold enough to brazenly send an invitation to meet again, even after whatever harm they had inflicted upon him.
'Annoying.'
He didn't like it. The name Barco. To live as Roman from now on, he needed to thoroughly clean up these irritating elements.
Therefore...
"Tell them I will attend the party."
Confronting the problem head-on. That was how Roman would live his life from now on.
* * *
The party was in two weeks.
With some time to spare, Roman went to find Kevin, who had been waiting for him while he was in closed-door training.
"What would you like me to do from now on?" Kevin asked, bowing his head.
Although he had accepted Roman's offer, the glaring problem was that there was seemingly nothing he could actually do for him. Kevin was merely a teenage boy. Born with talent as ordinary as a pebble rolling on the side of the road, no matter how much he had pondered over the past week, he couldn't figure out his purpose.
So, he asked. What was his role? Why had Roman taken him in?
Roman said, "I intend to use you as my sword. However, a person's usefulness is not decided by another's will. Therefore, I will give you three paths. From this moment on, you will choose for yourself."
A sword.
It was entirely unexpected. To use someone who had never even touched a blade in his life as a sword... It was a statement that defied common sense, but Kevin did not raise a single objection.
"The first path is to give up being my sword. If you are afraid of holding a blade and do not wish to shed blood, then become my hands and feet instead. By following Hans around, learning his duties, and carrying out the safe tasks I assign you, you will have fulfilled your role."
A safe option.
Roman did not force danger upon him. Forced danger created variables, and Roman had no intention of keeping a weak human by his side as a weapon.
"The second path is to guard my side as a sword. However, as a teenager who has lived a life far removed from that of a swordsman, there is no way for you to become strong in a short period of time. The world is not a beautiful fairy tale. To become strong at such a late stage requires a corresponding amount of willpower. If you choose the second option, I will test your resolve with the Bone-Twisting Technique. It is a method that inflicts the excruciating pain of twisting your very bones and muscles. This is not about mere verbal resolution; it is about proving your will through results."
It was chilling.
The Bone-Twisting Technique. The sheer terror emanating from those words made Kevin's mouth run dry.
But there was a final option. When Roman had first accepted Kevin, he thought that perhaps the boy might be able to endure this final trial.
"The third path is..."
Roman drew his sword.
Thud.
He dropped the blade before the boy.
"Cut off your own wrist with this sword. If you can endure the agony to the very end and achieve your goal even while inflicting such severe pain upon yourself, you will be able to grow strong faster than anyone else."
Staring at the dropped sword, terror washed over Kevin's face for the first time, shattering the resolve he had shown just moments ago.
The Mad Demon.
When Roman had first met him, the Mad Demon was nothing more than an insignificant boy who knew nothing of martial arts—just like Kevin.
Yet, how did such a boy grow to become one of the Four Heavenly Kings? Was it because of innate talent?
No. His monstrous growth stemmed from a terrifyingly powerful will.
'In the Demonic Cult's treasure vault, ancient martial arts exist. Among them, the Ghost Soul Demonic Art turned countless demonic humans—who sought strength through powerful demonic energy—into cripples. The Mad Demon learned the Ghost Soul Demonic Art to become a useful sword for me. By overcoming its hellish trials, he became a sword I completely trusted.'
The Ghost Soul Demonic Art.
It was an incredibly dangerous martial art. The moment one used it, their mind would be gnawed away by demonic energy, and they would be forced to exert power amidst the excruciating pain of their own blood vessels being slashed apart. It was an agony an ordinary person wouldn't dare to even imagine.
Just like the final proposal Roman had made, wielding martial arts through the sheer pain of cutting off one's own arm was exactly what the Ghost Soul Demonic Art entailed.
It was a realm that could never be approached with ordinary resolve. That was why he chose the Ghost Soul Demonic Art. While Roman didn't truly think Kevin could handle it, he wanted to at least give him the option.
"For an ordinary person to transcend the limits of talent, a corresponding sacrifice and will are required," Roman said. "You are already my person. Whichever choice you make, I will use you valuably. But your ultimate usefulness is yours to decide."
He handed over the right to choose.
Kevin swallowed hard.
His eyes, fixed on the blade, shook violently with fear. His mouth was so dry he didn't even have saliva to swallow.
Cut off your own arm.
It was unimaginably cruel. How could anyone do such a thing?
"Pant, pant."
His breathing grew ragged. He had no certainty that this was the right thing to do, but he held absolute trust in the man watching him.
He believed in Roman.
Just as Roman had saved him before, he believed that Roman would save his life this time as well.
"I will do it."
Grit.
He clenched his teeth—so hard it felt as if they might shatter.
Grab!
Kevin snatched up the sword. And the moment he was about to drive the blade into his own arm—
'Phantom Demon Art.'
Flash.
Roman's eyes flashed. At the same time, mana surged.
The martial art of the Demonic Cult.
As the Phantom Demon Art—a technique infamous for bewitching the souls of countless people—was unleashed, Kevin's eyes turned vacant. Then, he collapsed to the floor.
In Roman's reality, Kevin lay with his face buried in the dirt as if dead. But in Kevin's mind, nothing had changed from the moment he prepared to sever his own arm.
From this point on, he was trapped in a world of illusion.
Soon after.
Crunch!
Kevin's face contorted in absolute agony.