Chapter 49
Chapter 49
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 48
Chapter Title: Minster Family (1)
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After the hearing wrapped up.
Before heading back to the prison, I decided to stop by the family estate.
Sure, the Minster family was just a bunch of nouveau riche who bought their title with cash, but we still had some deep-rooted history.
After all, moneylending and contract killing weren't trades for the weak.
That's why we'd passed down a unique family elixir through the generations.
To outsiders, it was just ordinary potion water. But for Minster blood, its effects doubled.
Not quite on par with the top-shelf elixirs the royals guzzled, but damn good all the same.
The one bragging right for a family infamous for finger-pointing and scandal.
Popping that before the upcoming duel tournament would give me a real edge.
'But that old bastard won't hand over the family secret brew without a fight.'
Gripping the leather case, I headed for the Minster estate.
Inside was a gift for the man I called father.
A ring artifact from the previous imperial generation.
Bought it from that Bakar merchant, thanks to memories from my last loop.
Something that'd pop up at auction decades from now—I snagged it cheap ahead of time.
But don't let that fool you; the performance wasn't bargain-basement by any means.
As an imperial heirloom, it boosted the wearer's magic power handsomely.
Perfect for my materialistic, palace-obsessed piece-of-shit dad.
'Never feels right coming here.'
A flashy garden and a fountain that wasn't half bad.
On par with the lord of Berryhill's digs.
But land prices here versus that backwater? Worlds apart.
Dad sure knew how to rake in the gold, no denying that.
Too bad his personality and character were just as ruthless.
"You there?"
I rapped on the entrance gate, and out came a man in a crisp uniform.
Maybe ten years my senior, with jet-black hair.
"Derek Minster...?"
Definitely servant attire.
Yet he didn't honor me with a title, even though I was family.
"What brings you here? I thought you'd cut ties."
"Long time no see. Just swung by now that the hearing's done."
An event with the emperor himself in attendance—word would've reached the estate.
Still, the servant Tolman eyed me with the same apathy.
"Do you have an appointment with the patriarch?"
"Can't I see my own father without one?"
I shot back coldly, matching his attitude.
Tolman cleared his throat awkwardly, chewing his lip.
"Wait here a moment. The patriarch's with a very important guest today."
A guest?
I stood on tiptoe, peering through the bars.
Sure enough, a sleek luxury carriage parked at the entrance.
Tolman passed it and headed inside, got the okay, and returned.
"Come in. The patriarch's in the rear garden—wait inside."
He slammed the gate loud enough for me to hear on purpose.
No matter how many loops, the disdain never changed.
Whatever. Wasn't like I was hurt by it.
I was only here for the elixir anyway.
Once I had it, I'd never set foot in this shithole again.
"......"
The upside of being the snubbed son? Everyone treated me like a ghost.
No one—not Tolman or anyone—guided me inside.
Let me roam the estate freely, even to the rear garden where Dad was meeting his VIP.
Hands clasped behind my back, I strolled leisurely.
Tolman noticed my path too late and trailed after, but he was already beat.
I'd entered the sights of Damon Minster, patriarch of the Minster family.
He sat at a round table, sipping tea with a man.
A middle-aged noble with red hair like black tea leaves.
True to the servant's word, his guest was no small fry.
Tutton Grand Duke—closest aide to the crown prince, and the man who'd tried to reclaim Myoran.
"Father, I'm home."
The silver-haired patriarch, mid-laugh with the duke, looked up.
He recognized me, and his smile vanished completely.
"Derek. I'm with a guest—come back later."
"Won't be seeing you again anytime soon, so I figured I'd drop by."
Our reunion after ages felt stiff.
The duke, slicking back his red hair, turned to me.
"Derek—the guy from today's hearing, right?"
Impeccable uniform with the Red Lion insignia.
I locked eyes with a power player on par with Grand Elder Dark.
"Over quick, so it must've gone well."
"Yes. Fortunately, the false charges got cleared."
Dad shot me a frosty glare, signaling me to scram.
Like I didn't belong.
"The Holy See must've pulled out all the stops to drag you down. Impressive."
"Just got lucky. They couldn't produce a witness."
"Heard about that. Whatever you did, you handled it slick."
"How could a criminal like me obstruct the Holy See? They must've had their reasons."
Tutton chuckled, setting down his tea.
"Minsters sure master the poker face. Lying without batting an eye."
The duke rose, buttoning his jacket.
True to his house's fame for birthing the Sword of Crimson Flame, he cut an imposing figure.
"Leaving already? The butler's about to bring fine whiskey."
"Nah. Can't overstay between father and son."
Damon looked gutted—the hard-won audience cut short.
Then he turned a venomous glare on me, blaming me.
Tutton caught it in a flash.
With noble grace, he patted Dad's shoulder.
"Don't glare at the boy too hard. Thanks to him, we'll be seeing plenty more soon."
"Pardon...? Did Derek offend you somehow, Your Grace?"
The patriarch probed cautiously. Tutton eyed me steadily.
Recalling our clash over Myoran, he spoke.
"Nothing like that. Just saying your son's excelling at his duty—a bit too well."
"Thank you for the kind words, Your Grace. Please visit Berryhill yourself next time."
Tutton paused at my reply.
He lit a thick cigar with a flick of flame from his finger.
"You're nothing like your father. Mutant's the word."
Red eyes gleamed through the thick smoke.
In my past life, as the prince's right hand, he'd played a huge role in the first downfall.
His Crimson Flame Knights boasted top-tier combat prowess in the empire.
Pure military achievements outshone even Camillia's white cavalry.
"Thought Minster lands were full of worms underground."
Dad stared blankly as Tutton hyped me up.
The discarded son outshining the one who'd showered gifts? He looked torn.
But I didn't gloat at the patriarch.
Instead, I ignored him like air and focused on the red beast before me.
"Grew up in rough soil. Far from fine dirt."
Memories surfaced of clashing with him all-out.
My gaze sharpened to venom between silver strands.
"I like that. Love guys like you—no poisoning the well with schemes."
He'd suffered from the aphrodisiac ripple I'd triggered.
Yet no grudge in his eyes.
Like taking a fair hit in competition and shrugging it off.
That's why I stayed wary.
Fools and villains had holes; principled fighters didn't.
"If you lose the warden gig, come work for me. Got a staff spot open."
"Cleared the hearing—no reason for dismissal now."
The red lion clamped a paw on my shoulder.
Patting softly, sizing up the prey's meat.
"We'll see. Drop the tournament, and things change."
"What's the tournament got to do with my post?"
Tutton flicked ash from his cigar.
Tobacco flecks drifted weakly down.
"Dangerous outposts like Berryhill require annual combat tests, right?"
Yearly skill checks to curb corruption.
Was Tutton folding the tournament into that?
One of his duties: preventing official graft.
With the emperor's ear, he could've pushed it easy.
"......You got that agenda passed?"
"Done the day before your hearing."
The lion crushed his half-smoked cigar in the ashtray.
A chain-smoker only when entertained.
"Sharp as ever. Hope your brawn matches that brain."
Tutton left with a satisfied grin.
Count Minster hustled after to see him off.
"......"
League apart from the riffraff.
He'd known I'd survive the hearing and prepped the next move.
Makes sense—with massive smuggling profits from the East Continent at stake...
He'd oust me and snatch Myoran somehow.
Probably entered their East Continent experts in the tournament already.
To beat them, I'd need to grind harder.
Made Dad's elixir even more essential.
"Hoo......"
Dad returned from seeing off Tutton Grand Duke, exhaling deeply.
"You've gotten bolder while away, boy. Daring to interrupt His Grace?"
"He didn't seem pissed."
I plopped into the red lion's seat.
Sliced the cigar he'd mouthed like carving meat, took a deep drag.
"If anything, I showed up right when he was tiring of your bootlicking."
"Rough posting's made your mouth rough too."
I exhaled the harsh smoke smoothly.
"Not just rough—reputation's improved, as you saw."
"True. Baffling, but undeniable."
Count Damon resat opposite.
His serpent eyes pierced me sharply.
"So why're you back? I know you feel nothing for this house."
"Here for a deal."
I tapped the leather case with a finger.
"Your brothers are under investigation for the aphrodisiac mess. Looks like I'm the only one who can boost the family name right now."
"Thanks to you snitching on Deck's supply source."
"After how they bullied me in school, that's kid stuff."
"Cut the chatter—get to the point."
With Tutton gone, the patriarch reverted to arrogance.
To the ultimate materialist, I handed the ornate box.
Like an imugi spotting a yeouiju, he snapped it open.
Checked the imperial ring inside.
"Previous gen imperial. Artifact, top quality."
"Villa's worth in gold. Covers two years' bribes for Tutton."
Lifeless green eyes brimmed with the gleaming ring.
"What do you want?"
"Our family secret brew. Tears of Elwin."
Dad nodded, like he'd expected it.
But then.
He snapped the box shut and shook his head.
"Sorry, not enough."
"What? I'm taking the bigger loss here."
My eyes narrowed decadently through the thick smoke.
The old snake didn't budge.
"Would've handed it over back then. But things've changed."
Squinting like a shrewd trader.
He pulled a small glass vial from his suit pocket.
Prismatic elixir shimmered beautifully inside.
He set it leisurely on the table, playing hardball.
"If you were useless, maybe. But now? Plenty more to squeeze."
"Brutally honest."
"Why not come after Tutton left? Your fault."
"......"
No face for a bought-title noble.
That ruthless grit took him from hack assassin to imperial count.
"How much more?"
Damon flashed two fingers, like he'd waited.
This bastard father demanding two villas—one mansion—for the elixir.
"You know how potent our brew is. One sip, and tournament top ranks are yours."
Our family's stuff was legit top-tier.
No one else would sell this to scum like the Minsters.
Still soured the mood.
My forces were growing, but cash was tight.
"Need to think it over."
Might have to hunt those spirit herbs I scouted last loop.
Leave the prison a bit, but tournament first.
"I'm off."
"Time's short—the tournament's right around the corner, Derek."
What a father.
I clicked my tongue inwardly, rising.
That instant.
"P-Patriarch...!!"
Tolman dashed up from afar, pale as death—worse than with Tutton.
"What's got you scampering like that? Trifle, and it's discipline."
Damon eyed him pitifully. Tolman shook his head frantically.
"G-Guests outside."
"Guests? Only scheduled was His Grace."
Familiar footsteps approached.
Confident, dignified boot heels.
"This the Minster estate?"
The empire's first princess, Camillia Andalusia, entered the garden.
"......!!"
Dad's eyes—lifetime palace fangirl—went wide.
But the real shock was just starting.
"Derek, was going to tea with you—here you are."
The famously icy princess seeking out her disowned kid.
Not the eldest or second, but the youngest runt.
"Talking with Father?"
"Yeah, stopped by for something."
Camillia, arms crossed, glanced at the table.
Spotted the elixir vial, face blank.
"Mid-grade elixir? Looks weak for tournament prep."
Downgrading the family secret to "mid-grade."
The patriarch's ego twitched under his eye.
"Want something better? I can hook you up—not that middling crap."