Chapter 72
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 72
Chapter Title: Hey, I'll Take This One
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Hey, I'll take this one.
In the original story, Lucas Argent could be summed up in one word: scum.
A man desperate for recognition from the pureblood family members, yet utterly devoid of any talent worth showing.
That longing never turned into effort, leaving only frustration that festered into rage.
And the targets of that rage were always too lofty, too powerful.
The direct descendants of Argent.
Untouchable existences.
So he chose weaker prey instead.
Broken slaves, things too shattered to even resist.
In the original tale, he lived like trash until he was captured by Piel's group, sacrificed early on as fodder to demonstrate the kind of story this was.
Brutal, bleak, proving just how merciless revenge could be.
But—
Once I became that Lucas, the ending had already veered off course.
The problem lay in what came next.
Argent's bastard had succeeded in Proxy Blood Fate twice.
Once could be dismissed as coincidence.
Twice was different.
It meant he was no longer someone who could fade into the shadows—he'd crossed a line.
And this time, he was wandering in and out of Argent territory with Princess Evelyn's name attached to his.
Argent wouldn't just sit idly by.
So I was certain.
Soon, they'd reach out first.
That left only one option.
Overturn the board before they could strike.
With the backing of a patron even Argent couldn't touch lightly.
"It's been a while, Family Head Agram."
"Family Head Alain... I never imagined I'd live to see you stepping out of your territory. Quite the surprise."
"Haha. It's all thanks to your son. I owe young Lucas here a debt."
The location was a guest reception room deep within the Argent estate.
This wasn't a space for just any visitor.
Only royalty or families of equal standing could set foot here.
The walls were adorned with tapestries exquisitely embroidered with the ancient family crest, and the floor was covered in thick wool carpets imported from foreign lands.
Even the beverage on the table was too precious to call mere tea.
Leaves harvested solely from the high plateaus of the southern regions, brewed in silver strainers—top-grade leaves that left a subtle sweetness lingering in the mouth alongside a faint grassy aroma.
Family Head Agram held his teacup.
His movements were slow, his posture impeccable.
Yet no emotion surfaced on his face.
No surprise, displeasure, or wariness—all thoroughly suppressed.
The reason was simple.
This entire situation was utterly beyond his expectations.
No matter how adept he was at ruling the underworld and calculating countless variables, he hadn't anticipated another of the Four Great Families' heads visiting personally, sharing tea with a smile like this.
On the other hand, his four children—still too immature to fully embody the word "villain."
The eldest, Wolfram.
The second, Seratina.
The third, Walter.
And the fourth, Syl.
Cold sweat beaded on all their faces.
Their gazes wandered unsteadily, their tension plain as day.
And where their eyes lingered wasn't on Family Head Alain, who had marched into the heart of enemy territory.
It was on me, seated right beside him.
"Young Lucas, was it... Family Head Alain. I never thought I'd see someone like you addressing an Argent bloodline so 'familiarly.'"
"You got that right. The world's full of surprises when you live long enough. Isn't it, young Lucas?"
"Haha. Totally. Thanks to you, the mood's lightened up, and everyone's smiling. Nice, right~?"
As the two of us bantered like actual father and son, Agram's brow twitched ever so slightly for a fleeting moment.
...Not jealousy, surely.
If he'd react like this, he should've treated me better ages ago.
But pushing the joke further here would turn amusement into provocation.
This wasn't the time to press; it was time to draw the blade.
I glanced cautiously at Family Head Alain and winked.
The signal for the plan.
Without a hint of hesitation, as if it had been rehearsed from the start, he winked back.
And immediately spoke.
"Anyway. The reason I've come to see you with young Lucas is simple."
"...What is it?"
"I, Alain Raltos—want to become Lucas Argent's 'guardian.'"
"Guar...?"
"A guardian?!"
"The head of Raltos... for an Argent heir?"
In that instant, the air in the reception room visibly froze.
It wasn't just the four stunned children.
Even Agram, who had maintained his composure, showed the faintest crack in his suppressed emotions.
Considering he was the man who gripped and shook the underbelly of this world, this proposal blatantly defied common sense.
The Raltos family was seen as the weakest among the Four Great Families.
But not due to decline or incompetence.
Relief efforts, aid, mediation, and service spanning the Abellan Empire and the entire continent.
They had willingly depleted their own strength to embody the 'light.'
Argent, by contrast, was the polar opposite.
Slave hunting, smuggling, black markets, the underworld.
The family at the center of every profit structure deemed 'darkness' in this world.
For one head of such polar-opposite families to step forward and declare he'd take the other's child under his wing?
This went beyond mere connection or favor.
It was a declaration that could upend the balance of the empire's order itself.
Probably—
No precedent existed, even scouring the empire's records.
"Family Head Alain."
It wasn't Agram who broke the silence.
From among his children standing behind him, the eldest son Wolfram stepped forward and spoke.
"If that's a proposal made without grasping its weight, you should retract it here and now."
His voice wasn't loud.
But each sentence carried undeniable force.
"Lucas is Argent blood. For an outside family to discuss his fate infringes on our family's sovereignty."
"R-right!"
"That's going too far!"
Short voices of agreement followed.
"Raltos and Argent have never walked the same path."
He paused briefly, then fixed Family Head Alain with a direct gaze.
"Or more precisely, we've always stood on opposite sides."
The air in the reception room grew even heavier.
"A decision to take a child from such families under the guise of 'guardianship'... do you grasp the ripples it would send across the empire?"
He kept his tone steady to the end.
"I must ask if you've given that sufficient thought."
Proving his status as heir apparent, his words balanced politeness and caution with precision.
After finishing, the faintest smile ghosted across Wolfram's lips.
As if satisfied with his own rebuttal.
However.
"Good grief."
Family Head Alain casually blew his nose, then sighed like someone who'd lost interest.
"That's all you've got after winding up like that?"
"...Pardon?"
The air shifted a beat late.
"Ripples, balance, precedent—all valid points."
Tilting his head, he looked down at Wolfram like a naive child.
"But they're all built on a false premise."
The smug smile froze solid.
"You're treating young Lucas as an 'Argent heir' here."
Tap.
The family head's gaze now brushed over me.
"But here's the thing."
He turned back to Wolfram, continuing calmly.
"That kid's a bastard, isn't he?"
"...!!"
"Not on any official family register, not in the line of succession, not positioned to inherit Argent's power."
His fingers folded one by one.
"Taking a child like that under my wing infringes on family sovereignty?"
Family Head Alain chuckled dryly.
"If something that minor shook the empire's balance, this country would've collapsed ages ago."
"......"
Wolfram's mouth slowly closed.
The tower of logic he'd built hadn't just been refuted—it had lost all meaning.
Because the very premise of me being an 'Argent heir' didn't hold from the start.
Exactly.
A union between Argent and Raltos would indeed cause ripples.
But only if I were in line to inherit the family's power.
Right now, I'm just 'some kid nobody cares about getting a protector.'
Alain's words were understated, but every one was calculated to perfection.
"So here's what I want to know."
He lifted his head.
"Is this 'ripple' you're so worried about truly for the empire's sake?"
A brief silence.
"Or..."
This time, his gaze shifted slowly.
Toward Argent's patriarch, Family Head Agram.
"Is it about the internal dynamics of Argent?"
"Th-that's—!"
Wolfram's mouth flew open reflexively.
But the words never came.
Raltos's family head's attention had already moved on.
As if he no longer expected an answer.
The position of heir apparent.
The urgency to stand in for his father.
All those thoughts must have raced through his mind.
But the board was already tilted.
The moment someone other than the family head answered a question staked on the family's honor—it was another mistake.
And if that answer got refuted again?
It'd be Argent's next patriarch publicly dismantled before their arch-rival Raltos.
Agram couldn't possibly overlook that.
"Wolfram."
"Y-yes, Family Head."
"When did I ever permit you to speak in my stead?"
"...Pardon?"
The gaze that turned slowly wasn't forward, but behind.
A look looking down on him.
Only then did the blood drain from Wolfram's face.
His lips stiffened, words failing him.
"Know your place."
"...!"
No further words were needed.
The title of heir apparent meant nothing before that single phrase.
Along with his pride.