“The House of Hevely’s businesses are all closing as of today.”

“Good.”

“It seems the Count of Hevely has also liquidated his houses in the capital and will soon retreat to the countryside.”

“Tsk. So he still managed to save enough to buy a country house.”

Listening to Aide Jector’s report, the Duke of Sorpel kept knitting his brows as if still dissatisfied.

“If you raise your son into that kind of creature, you take responsibility.”

“Juid Hevely did have a great many problems.”

Jector nodded to the Duke’s words, but inwardly he was full of questions.

‘Why all of a sudden?’

Juid—Count Hevely’s son—his atrocities were already common knowledge to anyone who cared to know.

Of course the Count had smothered things with money, but you can’t stop rumors from circulating among nobles.

The Duke of Sorpel would have heard those rumors often enough as well.

‘And yet he never once showed any interest...’

Then out of the blue he ordered an inquiry into Juid, and right after that he requested every document related to the House of Hevely.

And within mere days he smashed that house to pieces. He breathed on every business connected to the Hevelys.

It was only the faintest breath, but the result was enormous. In less than a week, all of the Hevely ventures were reeling.

‘Well, if a breath that light can stagger them, they were rotten from the start.’

In the end the Count liquidated everything and fled to the countryside.

“How dare he...”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing.”

The Duke of Sorpel gave a slight shake of his head, then asked something else.

“The Academy matter?”

“Yes, a reply arrived at once. They say they’ll tighten campus security after classes from now on. They received the donation you sent and the headmaster will call on you personally soon—”

“Tell them no need. Instead of wasting time on that, have them properly check whether there’s anyone else like Juid in that Academy! How dare he...!”

“Sir?”

“Nothing.”

What kept being “nothing” since a moment ago?

There was clearly something he knew that Jector didn’t, but he couldn’t figure out what it was.

Tilting his head, Jector shifted the subject.

“By the way, did you hear the news?”

“What news?”

“House Sephra is about to put a new mana stone on the market.”

The Duke of Sorpel cocked his head.

“Did they discover a new mana-stone vein?”

At present, most of the mana stones distributed in the Empire were monopolized in practice by the Marquis of Gavell.

If it had been anyone other than House Sephra putting out a new mana stone, the Marquis of Gavell would never have sat still.

He would have abused his power to halt the sale of mana stones or stolen all the suppliers. He already had a record of it.

Thinking that far, the Duke of Sorpel let out a dry laugh.

“With a new supplier in play, the Marquis of Gavell will be steaming.”

He never gave anything for free, and if you crossed him he’d pull every dirty trick to make sure you could never buy again. A loathsome man.

Because of him, neither the Magic Tower nor the Black Mages could ignore the Marquis of Gavell’s mood.

“However, it’s not confirmed, but...”

“There’s more?”

“Word from House Sephra is that the mana stone isn’t theirs.”

“Not theirs? What do you mean?”

“They’ll refine and sell it, but the owner of the mana stone is someone else.”

“Someone else?”

What a bizarre statement.

Did that mean the Duke of Sephra of all people was planning to sell on behalf of someone else, under their instructions?

“Huh...”

That man would never bother with something so troublesome.

“Shall I dig deeper?”

“As quickly as possible.”

“Yes.”

We’ll need a proper investigation.

****

Bang!

The study door flew open rougher than ever.

There was only one person in this world who would open a door like that and march in where he was.

Without lifting his eyes from the papers, the Duke of Sephra could easily guess who it was.

“What is it?”

No answer came back. Only then did the Duke of Sephra raise his head to look at his visitor.

Arsian was looking at him with a composure unlike any other time.

As their eyes met, Arsian stepped one pace closer.

“Listen carefully.”

When he finally opened his mouth, Arsian’s voice was just as calm.

Had this child ever maintained such ease in front of him?

“I’m not going to kill you.”

“......”

“I don’t care anymore what you were thinking when you did that to me and Sier. I still find you hateful and disgusting.”

Smack!

Arsian struck the Duke of Sephra’s desk with a sharp crack.

“So don’t die.”

“What?”

“Don’t you dare think of dying easily.”

“......”

“Live the rest of your life feeling how empty and useless everything you did was.”

The corner of Arsian’s mouth curled with a bitter edge.

“The Guardian’s egg? There will never again be such a thing in our house. I won’t take it out.”

I don’t need that trash.

“I’ll prove it.”

Arsian’s voice dropped even lower.

“That I can become as strong as I please without that trash.”

Bang!

“I’ll show you I can become stronger than anyone without some damn Guardian runt.”

So don’t die—watch carefully. See just how foolish your choice was.

As he looked at his father, who seemed so stupid he couldn’t say a single word, his lips eased upward.

He had said everything he wanted. Something inside felt cleared out.

The more he sorted his thoughts, the simpler the conclusion became.

‘Should’ve done this from the start.’

Only after hearing Camilla’s words did he realize it.

So what if it’s a Guardian. So what if it’s the headship.

From now on he would just live the way he wanted. He would no longer be tied down by this wretched house and his father.

Arsian turned his back without waiting for the Duke of Sephra’s answer. He had never intended to hear it in the first place.

Thud.

Left alone in the room, the Duke of Sephra finally set down the papers and pen he’d been holding.

“Hah...”

A long sigh flowed out of him.

In the eyes that had always looked bored ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) and empty of emotion, a small ripple appeared.

Fine. Even if it means prolonging this loathsome life.

“Please do that.”

So I can regret it until I die.

So I can feel the sting of my choice to the bone.

“Please.”

Another long sigh slipped from the Duke of Sephra’s lips.

Chapter. A Leisurely Routine

“Young lady, what are you going to do with all that?”

“I’m going to eat it.”

“Pardon?”

Cookies and cake, pie and fresh fruit juice—even more. A single basket was packed to the brim.

Chef Jellard, who had asked out of genuine curiosity, reeled at her answer. She meant to eat all that by herself?

“Anyway, good work.”

“Then, um, the... recipes...!”

“Ah, busy, busy.”

“Young lady...”

With the basket stuffed full of the snacks Jellard had made, Camilla left the kitchen at a brisk clip.

“Huh?”

But someone was waiting for her outside the kitchen.

“Brother, what are you doing there?”

It was Ravi.

“You. I need a word.”

“...This is about the mana stone, right? I told you we’d talk later.”

Ever since he saw the refined mana stone last time, he’d come looking for her at every turn to demand its source.

She fully intended to keep her mouth shut, saying she couldn’t tell since sales hadn’t officially begun yet...

“Did you get that mana stone from House Sephra?”

“Huh?”

They shouldn’t have started selling yet.

“Is that right?”

“Yeah. How did you know?”

“You have no idea how fast mages are with mana-stone news.”

Clicking his tongue, he fixed her with a steady look.

“You’re certain you got it from House Sephra?”

“Yeah.”

“How?”

“Arsian gave it to me.”

It wasn’t a lie. The mana stone she’d tossed to Ravi had been refined by Arsian himself, so it was no different from him giving it to her.

“You.”

“Hm?”

“Are you close with that man?”

Ravi’s face had twisted before she knew it.

‘What’s with him?’

The look urging her to answer was no joke.

What, did he know Arsian? She didn’t have any particular intel on that.

“Not answering?” 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

“...And if I say we’re close?”

“Are you insane!”

So that would qualify as insane.

“Are you really close?”

“We just ended up knowing each other, that’s all.”

“How does one end up knowing that kind of man?”

“Why are you like this?”

Why are you overreacting like that?

“None of your business! From now on, don’t have anything to do with him.”

What is he even saying.

“Then you don’t need it?”

“Need what?”

“The mana stone.”

“......”

“That mana stone’s going to be hard to get without a connection for a while. I hear mages are already scrambling to buy.”

“......”

“Still want me to have nothing to do with him?”

“I... don’t...”

“What was that?”

“Don’t...”

“What?”

“......”

“......”

All right then, human.

Leaving Ravi behind, clawing at his own hair and trapped in his dilemma, unable to finish a sentence to the end, Camilla sauntered away.

****

Thunk.

Resting under a tree, Arsian only opened his eyes when something hefty was set on his stomach.

“How leisurely.”

It was Camilla.

Arsian pushed the basket off to one side and sat up.

“I hear you made quite a mess in sword class.”

“It was training.”

“Oh, sure.”

He’d left half the kids in the practice yard half-dead, and that was training, was it.

“The rumor’s already spread across the Academy.”

Who knows what kind of murderous “training” he ran when he usually didn’t even bother attending class.

“Why are you so wet?”

“It was hot.”

Arsian pointed toward Spirit Lake. Looked like he’d just jumped in to wash off the sweat from training.

‘But...’

Oh...

Poke, poke.

“...What are you doing?”

“So you are a sword user.”

Look at that lean muscle.

In clothes he just looked scrawny, but with his shirt soaked and clinging, the muscles on his body sat in all the right places.

She poked a finger into them—solid.

Another poke, poke—

“I said, what are you doing.”

“Ah, sorry. It’s pretty.”

Camilla finally took her hands off him after poking at his arm muscles.

Any more and it would count as grounds for a harassment complaint. Restrain yourself.

“You must have really gone hard on training. Your face is still red.”

“......”

Arsian turned his head slightly.

“Why is a mage working that hard at sword training? You’re making the other swordsmen uncomfortable.”

It’s hard enough to be good at one thing in this world. If he’s going to be that good at both—oh?

‘Is that it?’

Was that why Ravi blew his top about Arsian?

To mages, Arsian might look offensive for not focusing on one thing and sticking his hands into another. And the same would go for swordsmen.

They could hang on all night and struggle to see results, but Arsian wasn’t like that.

“My brother says he hates you.”

“Whoever he is, tell him I hate him too.”

“Okay.”

Of course, that personality of his probably played a part.

But what good are envious, jealous looks. What good is it if they refuse to acknowledge him among themselves.

The person in question didn’t care in the slightest.