Heroes Emerge in Turbulent Times (Or Not)
"Damn it! Damn it! Where the hell is it?!"
Michelin ransacked the lord's office indiscriminately. He'd killed the lord amid the chaos of the sudden monster appearance. It had been an impulsive choice, but he felt no regret. If not now, seizing the lordship would have been impossible.
"The lord's dead, and all that's left is that wastrel son! I'm just one step away from becoming lord!"
But to smoothly take over the lordship, he needed that. A simple coup to swallow the territory wouldn't end it. For the future, he had to inherit the position officially. For legitimacy, he absolutely needed that...
"Is this what you're looking for?"
"Gasp?!"
Michelin Baron whipped his head around. It was Ian, the lord's one and only son, slowly approaching while holding a single sheet of paper.
Michelin swallowed hard without realizing it.
What the...? The atmosphere's completely different...
Ian walked in with bloodstained clothes and face uncleaned, looking like a vengeful ghost come to punish his father's killer.
"Wh-what are you? How are you here right now...?"
"To inherit the lordship, you'd need to forge the will, right?"
Michelin's shoulders jerked sharply. It wasn't just that Ian had hit the nail on the head—it was that he, the fool Michelin had dismissed as trash, had figured it out.
"What are you talking about...?"
"Don't play dumb. We both already know everything."
Ian Armeyna. For some reason, the hated man's surname suddenly came to mind.
"Stealing the lordship is fine and all, but you still lack legitimacy. Once the chaos settles, people will say you have no rightful claim."
Ian waved the paper demonstratively.
"So you figured you'd forge the will and add one line: 'I bequeath the lordship to Baron Michelin.' With your only rival being a wastrel with the worst reputation imaginable."
Michelin's wrinkled hands trembled faintly. He'd never once considered the idiot before him a worthy opponent in his entire life. Yet this speech and demeanor were like a completely different person!
"...So you beat me to it and took the will."
"Don't take it too personally. I need a weapon to protect myself too."
Ian smirked. Seeing that smile sent chills down Michelin's spine.
This guy's onto everything!
He knew who killed his father. He knew what Michelin was trying to do now.
Yet how could he stay so calm? His father's killer was right there, rummaging through his father's office!
Why are my legs shaking?
Deep down, the baron knew why. Fear. An emotion he'd grown distant from with age and power. A veteran of treacherous politics and merchant intrigues, he couldn't accept feeling it toward this brat.
"Well, no need to make it complicated. Let's negotiate first..."
"Hand that over!"
Deciding there was no point in arguing further, Michelin drew his sword. He swung with intent to end it in one blow, but the brat dodged effortlessly.
"...What the hell? You crazy bastard. You think you can kill the lord and his son and cover it up?"
"You already know everything I've done! It's all or nothing now. I'll send you to join your father! I'll just write a new will!"
"You idiot. You think that'll fly?"
"Without you, the territory has no lord. I'll crush any dissent with my soldiers—no one will dare complain! Why do you think I've rotted away in this backwater for years?!"
He kept swinging, but the bastard dodged nimbly every time, infuriatingly so.
"Grr! You monkey bastard...!"
"Hey, calm down and let's talk. I don't want to fight. I want to join hands."
"Hah! When your life's on the line, the lies come easy. It sounded convincing for a second. But do you think a political veteran like me would fall for that bullshit?!"
Michelin pinned Ian against the wall and thrust with his full weight, determined to finish it this time.
Whoosh!
Suddenly, Michelin's body slid forward uncontrollably. He'd stepped on papers scattered earlier while searching the office.
BAM!!
"Arghhh!"
Unable to stop his momentum, Michelin crashed hard into the wall. His bad luck? That spot held the lord's favorite hunting tools.
"Ah, wait."
Thud! Thunk! Thud!
Ian had no time to react. The fallen hunting tools pierced Michelin's head, chest, and gut in sequence.
Michelin convulsed, then went still.
"...What kind of moron dies like this."
Ian squeezed his eyes shut in disbelief at the absurdity.
He had zero intention of killing Michelin or claiming the lordship. Quite the opposite. With gates turning the territory into hell, he planned to dump it on this noble, grab some assets, and bolt to the Academy.
"Now there's no one to appoint as proxy lord!"
The one who could handle the story and the one to offload the position were both dead. All that remained was this rural dump with gates popping everywhere!
His peaceful academy life... no, his academy youth... gone just like that?
BAM!
"That's far enough, Baron Michelin! Your crimes have all been revea—"
Right on cue(?), the door burst open. Tavi entered with the vice-captain and knights, blinking in surprise. She glanced at the baron on the floor, then back at Ian.
"Young master? What...?"
"Ah, I didn't kill him."
Ian raised both hands defensively.
"Y-yes...?"
"He lunged for my father's will, slipped, slammed into the wall, and got impaled by the falling weapons. Died on his own."
"R-right, I see..."
Tavi averted her eyes from Ian's gaze. How could that even make sense? Someone slips, and just so happens to get skewered by weapons?
But no one could point it out!
Oh god. I got it all wrong.
When Ian said he'd talk to Michelin Baron, Tavi thought it was a ploy to separate him from his private soldiers and lower his guard.
In truth, it was to avenge his father with his own hands. And in such a gruesome way!
Shoved three hunting tools into him. Treating the enemy not as human, but beast—and using the lord's own tools to ensure vengeance.
Tavi had been puzzled by Ian's calm reaction earlier. For someone whose father was murdered overnight, he seemed far too composed.
But that was her mistake. Ian wasn't composed at all. He'd been quietly burning with rage inside, sharpening his blade of revenge with cold precision.
...Is this really the same wastrel young master I knew?
Speech, attitude, personality, even actions—nothing like the thug from before. It almost seemed like that trash act had been deliberate.
"Tavi."
"Y-yes?!"
Tavi startled at Ian's call. Maybe because of the gruesome corpse right there, she felt herself tense up involuntarily.
"You don't suspect I killed the baron, do you?"
"N-nooo...?!"
She bit her tongue by accident.
"I really didn't kill him. Total accident. Don't misunderstand."
"O-of course! I know it was an accident."
"He tripped on his own and ended up like that. You don't believe me?"
"I-I do!"
"Hmm, sounds like you don't."
"......"
For the first time in her life, cold sweat trickled down Tavi's back. It was a reaction unbecoming her usual composure. She even took a small step back from the blood-soaked Ian.
His blatant suspicion made Ian genuinely frustrated.
"Sigh! Anyway, fine. Will the baron's 'accident' cause problems?"
"N-no... It should be okay. He died in an 'accident,' after all."
Whether such an absurd accident was possible didn't matter. What mattered was no one could question it.
"Baron Michelin is the lord-killer, a traitor. Once we reveal his crimes, there won't be issues."
"Still, handle the cleanup properly. Explain the wounds to confirm the lord wasn't killed by a monster. Secure any other evidence like weapons."
"Yes, I'll ensure it's handled without issues."
"Does the baron have any children?"
"He's single, no family. Distant relatives exist but no real contact."
"Then claim his private soldiers and assets for the territory for now. We'll confiscate them once his crimes are confirmed."
Ian turned to the dazed vice-captain.
"And Vice-Captain Hanson."
"Y-yes, young master!"
"Can I count on the knights being on my side?"
"Of course. We swore loyalty to House Armeyna."
"Then capture the baron's soldiers from the hunt, interrogate them, and get confessions. Promise reduced sentences if they admit he ordered it."
"We'll handle it flawlessly!"
"Good. Dismissed."
As the knights filed out, Tavi sidled up to Ian.
"Um... young master, what now?"
"No heirs, so I'll handle his body. Can't leave the 'accident scene' looking ugly."
"...I see."
"It was purely an 'accident,' but it's not unrelated to me."
"Yes, I think so too."
Ian meant it as a favor, but Tavi interpreted differently.
Even disposing of the body to leave no evidence. Chillingly thorough.
"Sorry to ask in the chaos, but come back after handling things, Tavi. We need to discuss the future."
"Understood."
As she hurried off, Tavi glanced back at Ian.
He really seems like a different person...
No trace of the old wastrel. Heroes emerge in turbulent times, they say. Perhaps this territory's crisis had awakened the man named Ian.