Chapter 27: What Happened at the Social Party (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 27: What Happened at the Social Party (5)
The stinging shock left Benson, a knight of Barco, so stunned that his mind went entirely blank.
'...I was slapped?'
His cheek burned.
As someone who had always walked with his head held high under the Barco name, the sheer humiliation of being struck in public was harder to swallow than the physical pain. He knew his assailant. He knew exactly why Roman Dmitry had struck him. Yet, Roman's reputation as the "Fool of Dmitry" only fueled Benson's rising fury.
"Where does this bastard think he's— Gah!"
Slap!
His head whipped to the side again.
Flustered, Benson clutched his cheek and tried to block, but Roman's hand fell once more.
Slap!
Slap! Slap!
Once, twice, three times.
Benson wasn't even given a chance to counterattack. Roman didn't even wait for Benson's head to snap back to center before striking him again. Benson's posture, which had been so defiant just moments ago, began to shrink. His head spun. Pain rapidly overrode his petty pride.
Stumbling on weak legs, Benson flailed his arms and pleaded desperately, "P-please...!"
It hurt.
It hurt so damn much.
Though he had lived a life accustomed to violence and pain, Roman's strikes carried a terrifying, oppressive force that rendered him completely helpless.
Only then did it click.
He had made a terrible mistake.
But Roman gave him no opportunity to apologize, nor any room for excuses. Even as the commotion drew the attention of the nobles inside the party hall, who began spilling outside to watch, Roman continued to ruthlessly strike Benson's face with an expression of absolute coldness.
Blood splattered.
Teeth shattered.
Benson's buckling legs gave out, sending him crashing to his knees. Before long, with his hair disheveled and his face a bloody mess, he was desperately clinging to Roman's leg.
As the situation grew increasingly severe, Kevin and Chris finally stepped in.
"My lord!"
"You have punished him enough! He is a knight of Barco. For the sake of our relationship with them, it would be best to stop here!"
His subordinates' words were entirely logical. They were offering loyal advice. Yet Roman, his face lightly flecked with blood, merely glanced back at them.
"I decide what constitutes a sufficient punishment. Chris, Kevin—what penalty do you think is appropriate for a knight who slanders me, the eldest son of Dmitry? Even if this bastard dies from this beating, it is merely the price for the words he chose to utter. There is no such thing as going too far."
There was no benevolent lord standing before them. Only Roman.
Benson had crossed the line Roman had drawn, and in doing so, he had coaxed out a fraction of the Heavenly Demon's innate cruelty.
Sophisticated social skills and care for one's subordinates were necessary elements to maintain power, but ultimately, a solid throne required something else to protect it.
Punish one to warn a hundred.
That was his clear standard of justice.
Roman was demonstrating to everyone present exactly how he dealt with those who dared to cross his line.
And just as he grabbed Benson's face to strike him once more—
"What on earth do you think you are doing?!"
Antony Barco had arrived. He stared at the scene before him, unable to believe his eyes.
Roman Dmitry was daring to discipline a knight of the Barco family, in front of everyone, at a Barco social party. It was an egregious overstepping of authority.
His face flushed so red it looked ready to explode. Antony Barco shrieked in fury.
"Roman! Even if you are the eldest son of the Dmitry family, I will absolutely not tolerate you laying a hand on a knight of Barco! Stop this instant and apologize for your insolence!"
The conversation they had shared in the secret room was completely forgotten. He had bowed his head earlier for the sake of mutual interests, but being openly humiliated in his own home was not something he could just overlook. He felt the weight of the countless gazes shifting between him and Roman. The surrounding nobles held their breath, their faces filled with amusement and morbid curiosity.
This was why Antony Barco raised his voice with such authority. He believed Roman had crossed the line. In this moment, he felt entirely justified in his rage.
But Roman remained unfazed.
"Why should I apologize?"
Still gripping Benson by the hair, Roman looked at Antony Barco. His voice was chillingly calm.
"When I stepped out of the party hall, I overheard this knight of Barco slandering me. He made remarks belittling the Dmitry family, talking about knowing our place. And then, right before my eyes, he dared to lay a hand on a member of the Dmitry family. Antony Barco, do you truly believe I am the one in the wrong here?"
"...Even so, you've crossed the line!"
"The line. A line, you say."
Roman let out a soft chuckle.
Antony knew it too. He knew Benson was entirely to blame for this incident. The only reason Antony couldn't back down was to save face in front of the crowd, not out of any genuine desire to protect his knight. Antony's eyes practically begged Roman to yield just this once to preserve his dignity, but Roman had absolutely no intention of playing along.
"I told you during our conversation in the secret room. Personal grudges can easily ruin the relationship between us, and by extension, our families. From this moment on, you had better make your stance clear. Will we maintain our current relationship, or will we tear at each other's throats every time we meet, just like that flushed face of yours is doing right now? My patience is not as vast as you might think. So, choose your stance. Right now."
The onlookers gasped in shock.
What they had initially assumed to be a minor scuffle had escalated into a confrontation threatening the relations between two powerful families.
This was exactly what Roman had intended.
The original Roman Dmitry had been a fool. He was an idiot who, despite having the backing of the Dmitry family—the true powerhouse of the northeast—could never command respect. That wasn't anyone else's fault. It was the failure of the original Roman Dmitry, who never knew how to leverage his own strength. Now that he had begun a new life, Roman intended to correct that mistake.
'My name is Roman Dmitry.'
The eldest son of the Dmitry family. He would show everyone that he was a man capable of speaking with absolute authority, even when facing the Barco family.
Benson was merely a pretext.
From the moment he set foot in Barco's social party, Roman had been looking for an opportunity to prove his worth, just as he had won over the other nobles with his conversation. However, it couldn't look forced. It had to arise naturally from the opponent's mistake. Like a predator locking onto its prey, Roman had seized upon Benson's blunder.
He had bared his fangs.
Faced with Roman's terrifying aura, Antony Barco could not hide his panic.
'Damn it.'
Roman's hostility, combined with the watching eyes of the crowd, pressed heavily upon him. He wanted nothing more than to lash back. But doing so would make this mistake irreversible.
Their private conversation had made it clear that Roman was a changed man. His warning that a personal grudge could ruin relations between their families was no empty threat. If that happened, Barco would be the sole loser. With Lawrence's fertile lands and Flora Lawrence nearly within his grasp if he just endured a little longer, there was no reason to jeopardize his grand plans by needlessly bruising Dmitry's pride.
Slowly, Antony Barco began to rationalize. Forcing himself to ignore the watching crowd, he realized he had only one viable option.
"Come to think of it... you are right," Antony said, his voice strained. "If a knight of Dmitry had slandered me and laid hands on a member of the Barco family in my presence, I would have meted out the exact same punishment. This is entirely our fault."
He backed down.
Even as he swallowed his pride, he offered a hollow excuse, claiming he would have acted the same way just to save what little face he had left.
That was all Roman needed. Smiling, Roman pulled Benson's head forward.
"You agree, don't you?"
There was no need for further words.
As Benson looked up at him with eyes filled with sheer terror, Roman slammed his head down toward the floor and muttered, "Grit your teeth."
At those words, Benson squeezed his eyes shut.
*
Ultimately, Benson had to be carried away on a stretcher. His face was beaten to a bloody pulp, and the spot where he had lain was stained with a pool of blood and shattered teeth.
The party was effectively over.
Roman wiped the blood from his hands with a handkerchief and walked out of the venue, followed by Chris and Kevin.
On the way back to the estate, Kevin, who had been following Roman in silence, spoke up. He wore an expression of deep guilt, looking as if he had committed high treason.
"...I am sorry, my lord. You had to go through that trouble because of me."
He felt utterly miserable. If only he were a proper knight like Chris. Then Barco's knights wouldn't have dared to pick a fight with him, and Roman wouldn't have been dragged into such a mess.
Chris chimed in as well.
"I apologize too, my lord. Even after seeing Kevin get struck and hearing the Dmitry family insulted, I did not take action. If you wish to discipline me for this, I will gladly accept the punishment and ensure this never happens again."
Chris possessed the strength to fight back. Yet, he had held back for Roman's sake. Had he known Roman was willing to display such open hostility toward Barco, he would have drawn his sword and fought from the very beginning.
Roman stopped in his tracks. He turned to look at his subordinates and spoke in a calm, measured tone.
"You made the best choice you could under the circumstances. I know holding back wasn't easy. Thank you for enduring and waiting."
This incident was not their fault.
On the surface, the Barco family was powerful, and Roman Dmitry was not supposed to have the authority to treat them so lightly. Had Roman blindly picked a fight with the Barco family without being prepared, it could have led to a disastrous outcome in front of everyone. Chris and Kevin understood this. Though they recognized Roman's immense personal strength, they knew his political standing was still unstable. Thus, they had swallowed their pride and endured.
However, that did not mean their response had been perfect.
"Acting rashly invites disaster. Your choice avoided the worst-case scenario, but it was not the answer I wanted. From now on, learn to judge how to act when someone spits in your face. Once you understand that, today's situation will never happen again. At least in the northeastern region of the Cairo Kingdom, there is no one powerful enough to spit on the Dmitry family and expect us to just take it."
Back when he lived at the very bottom of society, Baek Joong-hyuk had possessed no power. That was why he had resorted to using tools, eventually becoming the king of the 12th Cave by crushing the previous leader's skull with a stone.
But then and now were different. When you had no faction, you could do whatever you pleased. But once you carried the weight of a faction, your choices carried the lives of your comrades.
Therefore, one had to know how to bide their time.
If the time was not right, he would wear a smile. But once he decided the moment had come, he would slice his enemy's throat without a moment's hesitation, no matter how reckless it might seem. By living this way, he had crossed countless lines of death.
Chris and Kevin's judgment was the best they could manage, but if they had truly understood how to read the situation, they wouldn't have just stood by and endured today. Whether it was the Barco family or Blood Fang, if one truly understood the extent of Dmitry's power, they were opponents that could be crushed without issue the moment they crossed the line.
"And," Roman continued, "even if you encounter an opponent you must endure, burn their face into your memory. Simply biding your time is entirely different from helplessly bowing your head. Since we will eventually trample them underfoot, you must never lose the venom in your eyes. I am not a man who can tolerate anyone standing above me. If you wish to follow me—a man who will live a life placing everyone beneath his feet—you must adapt to my way of doing things."
At that moment, Chris and Kevin realized.
Roman Dmitry...
...was a man destined to rule.
To be worthy of standing by his side, they could no longer limit themselves to the boundaries of ordinary common sense.
Roman walked ahead, and Chris and Kevin followed close behind. Staring at Roman's broad, dependable back, the two men walked with a sense of trust far deeper and more unshakeable than before.
The Heavenly Demon Cult.
The legendary power that had once dominated an entire era in Murim was slowly beginning to take shape here, in the Cairo Kingdom.