Chapter 32
Chapter 32
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: The Path to the Tower
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The continent's richest man and the real power holder in the neutral region of Legion, a blood relative of the imperial family.
‘Pierre de Bourbon.’
He lightly tugged at his pig-tail-like curly mustache, then swirled his wine glass with an elegant pose and spoke.
“So, you're saying you want to face off against that Strange in the next match.”
The hulking man in the black cloak bowed deeply.
“Yes, Marquis Pierre.”
“Hmm— that's intriguing. Not only has a Strange appeared in the arena... but he's showing hostility toward us.”
“He seems to be one of the collateral heirs who inherited Strange blood. Apparently, he's aiming for a Gold Class badge to enter the dungeon...”
“Aiming for a Gold Class badge to enter the dungeon? If he's truly a Strange, would he even need to?”
“That's why I thought he was lying too. And the response we got back was this.”
The hulking man opened the box.
Pereira's head inside revealed Strange's answer.
“Eek! T-take it away. Showing such an irreverent sight during a meal!”
“I'm sorry. But I felt the marquis needed to see this clearly. About what kind of relationship Strange intends to maintain with us going forward.”
“......”
“No matter how much they're called the continent's greatest swordsmanship family. They killed a Bourbon knight so brutally—we can't just sit idly by, can we?”
Pierre of Bourbon and Roys of Strange held the same rank of marquis among the five great houses appointed by the emperor.
The difference was that Roys had conquered the south himself to prove his power, while Pierre had claimed the seat by virtue of his imperial birth.
In terms of position, they were equals, but the two had walked entirely different paths until now.
Pierre found this incident hard to comprehend.
On this continent where the Glazer Family now held hegemony, it made more sense to join hands with him to keep the mages in check rather than viewing him warily.
Why provoke trouble first?
Hmm—
“Then let's do this. I'll arrange a match for you against that Strange kid.”
“Thank you, Marquis.”
“But make sure this doesn't create a rift between us and Strange.”
“What do you mean?”
Pierre swirled his wine glass and took a light sip.
Gulp.
“As Baron Duff knows, Strange is our biggest client. It's not just about their raw power—when thinking about future profits, it's better if we don't turn our backs on each other.”
“B-but. They started this—”
“That's. Why! I'm saying I'll host the match to clear up the misunderstanding between them and Sir Duff. With your skill as Baron Duff, beating that Strange kid should be a breeze, right?”
“......”
“Show him you're no pushover—no, show him how outstanding the Bourbon Knights are. Then set up a meeting to resolve this through talk.”
“Marquis Pierre, I'm sorry, but this isn't something we can just let slide. They killed my subordinate.”
Bang!
Marquis Pierre slammed his wine glass down on the table.
“The head that rolled this time belonged to one subordinate. But next time, it could be all of us.”
“......”
“The opponent is Strange. Proceed with utmost caution.”
Duff clenched his fists tight. He wanted to argue back against Marquis Pierre but kept his mouth shut.
Even if the conversation dragged on, he knew he wouldn't hear what he wanted, so he simply bowed to show his understanding before whispering as he left the marquis's room.
“Damn it.”
Butler Devery said to me with a perfectly calm expression.
“Young Master, I'll dispatch forces right away to wipe out the Bourbon Knights in Legion.”
His conviction was unshakable.
No matter how much imperial blood Pierre de Bourbon carried, he insisted we couldn't forgive the challenge to Strange and called for declaring war.
I took a short sip of the black tea in my cup and replied.
“No. I'll handle this myself.”
“...There's no need for Young Master to dirty your hands. They were in the wrong first this time, so Family Head Roys would permit a counterattack.”
“That's exactly why I want to handle the counterattack myself. Father would want that too. Since it's trouble I stirred up, I want to clean it up myself.”
Devery gazed at my face, hesitating for a moment before breaking into a bright smile and nodding.
“As expected of Young Master Din. To think so deeply about us at your age.”
What was that supposed to mean?
“If things go awry, the imperial family might punish us, so you're stepping forward personally to keep any backlash from surfacing later. Indeed, even hiding behind the Strange name, a mere butler like me... couldn't stand against a marquis of Bourbon.”
He seemed to be under some misunderstanding, but since it wasn't a bad line of thinking, I simply acquiesced.
“Then it's settled—I'll handle this. But I do have one favor to ask.”
“What is it?”
“I've got my next match in the arena coming up, and I learned Silver Class and Gold Class can end up in the same bracket?”
Devery stroked his chin with an intrigued look.
“That's correct.”
“I want to face the Bourbon Knights there, so could you make the arrangements to connect us? If the match gets set, I can wrap this up neatly.”
“The arena bracket...”
“Is it doable?”
“Of course—simple enough. The current Legion arena manager is one of ours from Strange.”
“The manager?”
“Yes. He was the captain of a mercenary band that made a name in the Northern War. Now he lives quietly under orders from Family Head Roys.”
First I'd heard of it.
Well, in my previous life, I never bothered looking into these sorts of people or felt curious, so even if I'd heard the name, it wouldn't have stuck.
“What's his name?”
“Jack. Jack Clark.”
“Jack Clark? Never heard of him.”
“You wouldn't have—he's stuck at Diamond Class.”
“I see.”
Then he was someone I'd never crossed paths with, even in my previous life.
I'd never set foot in Diamond Class even once, after all.
“Have him visit the mansion soon.”
“No need. I know the name now—I'll go meet him myself.”
“Understood. Then, give me the Bourbon Knight party name you want to face and your preferred date, and I'll set it up right away.”
“Sure. Haven't picked a date yet. I'll send the party name along with it through Rox.”
“Very well. Oh, and the auction you mentioned is tonight. I checked the listings—two ‘Beast Giant’ corpses are up.”
“Tonight?”
“Yes. If you'd like to inspect the items in person, just say the word. If you're going, I'll reserve seats ahead of time.”
That evening.
Thick clouds blanketed Legion's sky.
As light raindrops began to fall and pitch-black darkness swallowed the alleys, making it impossible to see even a step ahead, those lurking in hidden spots started emerging one by one.
“...You're sure that little brat is heading to the auction house?”
A black cloak shrouded in shadow spoke up.
The middle-aged man in hunter's garb scanned his surroundings with a terrified expression before replying.
“Yes, I saw it with my own two eyes. He left in a white carriage with someone called Butler Devery.”
“If even a shred of this info is fake... it won't just be you. Your family, everyone connected by blood—they'll all die.”
“T-that's right!”
Their exchange was brief.
The black cloak handed over a pouch heavy with gold coins. The hunter snatched it and vanished from the spot in a flash.
“Prepare.”
The figure in the black cloak raised a hand overhead from within the shadows.
At that signal, hundreds of knights bearing eagle emblems on their armor began sealing off the roads around the auction house.
Not the main thoroughfares nobles favored, but only the dim, unlit back alleys.
Step, step, step.
The hulking man in the black cloak approached the shadow.
“Nunes, failure means death for us all.”
The shadow dweller slowly stepped into view and replied.
“Leave it to me, Baron Duff. That said, even if this op succeeds, Marquis Pierre's in hot water. You okay with that?”
“Doesn't matter. This is our chance to burn bridges with that cripple Pierre and Strange entirely. Then we flip to Glazer.”
“Think that'll work?”
“Yeah. Talks with Glazer on this are wrapped up. The funds we've siphoned through Bourbon are plenty for the trip. Kill that brat tonight, and it's all sorted.”
Duff pulled back his hood, eyes gleaming with fervor.
The five scars raking across his face caught the light and shimmered.
“Time to sever ties with that pathetic Marquis Pierre. And head for the tower.”
Clatter, clatter, clatter.
Nobles in carriages began pulling up to the auction house one after another. The city's renowned tycoons chuckled and laughed as they filed inside. Guard knights gripped their weapons tight with each arriving carriage, bracing for intruders.
A few among them eyed their surroundings uneasily, on alert—these were the spies Duff had planted earlier.
“Heard Beast Giant corpses are on the block tonight. That true?”
A portly noble en route to the auction rubbed his belly as he asked. A gaunt man in a tuxedo straightened his attire before answering.
“It is, but I'd steer clear of bidding on them.”
“Why's that?”
“Butler Devery from the Strange Family dropped by this morning. Said they'd sweep up every Beast Giant—pass the word.”
“Strange?! Heh heh—lucky I heard ahead of time. Nearly slipped up there.”
“Slipped up? The manager notifies everyone before bidding starts anyway.”
“True...”
Duff's spy listening in perked his ears.
Once the talk wrapped, as the nobles entered, he glanced toward Duff's alley and scratched his neck.
Duff nodded from the shadows and flashed a sinister grin.
Whoosh!
The rain thickened into sheets.
Moments later, a white carriage rolled up.
Creak—
The carriage door swung open.
Step, step, step.
As the figure in the white cloak emblazoned with a cross emerged.
“We see Young Master Berddin!”
The knights guarding the auction entrance gripped their weapon hilts with white knuckles.