A Mercenary’s Rebirth Among Nobles — Chapter 106

Chapter 106

Under‍ Eisen’s gaze, Jordi‍ took a step‍‌‍ back without realizing‍⁠ it. The calm‍ he had shown⁠ just moments before⁠ had vanished; cold‍ sweat beaded on his forehead.

“As expected of you,‌ Lord Eisen. You‌ truly possess strength‍‌⁠ worthy of the⁠⁠ title of Swordmaster.”‌

“That’s‌ something everyone knows.⁠ What’s surprising is that the second‌⁠ young master didn’t‌‌‍ know it.”

“….”‍‍

“Even‍‌‌ more surprising is⁠⁠‌ that the second‍ young master has‍‌ received help from‌⁠ a mage.”

With‌‍ a complicated expression,‌‌‍ Eisen looked at‌⁠ the mage reduced‍‌ to a shapeless⁠ mass.

Eisen‍‌‌ knew better than‍ anyone the Empire’s‌ obsession with mages.⁠‌ Even for Jordi,‌‍ being found to‍ have hired one‌⁠‌ was not something⁠ that could go⁠‍⁠ without consequences.

And‍‍‍ yet, he had‍‌ allowed him to attack so brazenly,‌ right in front⁠‌‌ of everyone.

“Who‍ on earth is‌‌ cooperating with the⁠‍ second young master?‍ No, rather, who is he serving?”‌‍

“I…!”‌⁠

Jordi‌ opened his mouth,‌ irritated, but although he seemed about⁠ to shout, he‌ couldn’t utter a single word. Seeing⁠‍⁠ him close it‌‌ again, Eisen clicked‌‌ his tongue.

“Can’t‍ even bring yourself⁠‍⁠ to say His‌⁠ Majesty the Emperor?”‌‍

“Lord‌ Eisen.”

“That’s‍⁠ enough. Doesn’t seem‌ like I’ll get‍ anything more useful‌⁠ out of you.”‍

Eisen‌‌ threw away the‍ broken hilt of⁠ the sword he⁠‌ had used to‍‌‌ strike the ground⁠‍‌ and picked up‌⁠ another one.

It⁠ was just a common wooden training‌ sword, but in⁠ the hands of‌‍‌ the Swordmaster, it‌ looked more terrifying‌ than any sharpened‌ blade.

“I’ll‌‍⁠ say this one⁠ last time. Step⁠ aside.”

At that final warning,‌ Jordi trembled with‍‍ humiliation and moved‌ aside.

The‍‌⁠ knights who followed‌‌⁠ him also stepped back in unison,‌‌ clearing a path.⁠‌ Eisen walked down the opened path‍⁠ and stopped next⁠⁠ to Jordi.

“Oh,⁠‍ second young master.⁠ Where are the‌⁠ trusted men of the third young‍ master? I’ll be‌ taking them with‍⁠ me as well.”⁠

“Th-that…!”‍⁠‍

Jordi‍ raised his voice‌ unintentionally and froze.‌‌⁠ The Swordmaster’s eyes—within‌‍ striking distance—were icy‍⁠ to the core.

After‍ moving his lips‌‍ for a moment, Jordi shut his‍‌‍ eyes tightly and⁠ said,

“…I⁠‌ locked them up‍⁠ in the underground‌ dungeon not long‍‌‍ ago. Do as⁠ you wish.”

“Ha.⁠‍ The underground dungeon?”‌

A dry laugh escaped‌⁠ Eisen’s lips. Didn’t‍‌ that mean he had been using‌ the clan’s facilities⁠‌‍ however he wanted even before starting⁠‌⁠ the rebellion?

He‍ had asked the‌ question without thinking⁠ too deeply, but‍ the more he‍‍⁠ dug, the more‍⁠‍ reasons to sigh‌ he found.

“Second⁠⁠‌ young master, remember‍⁠ this well. The⁠‍ only reason I haven’t cut you⁠‍ down is because‍ I didn’t have⁠ permission from my⁠ lord, the duke.”‍‍

“….”‌

Jordi‍ twisted his face‍⁠ in humiliation, unable to reply. Leaving‌ him behind, Eisen‍‍ silently made his‌‍ way toward the⁠⁠ underground dungeon.

There‌ was no reason to remain in‍ that place any‍‍ longer.

***⁠

“…And⁠ it was in‍⁠ the prison where‍‍ we found them.‍ I was worried‌⁠ they might have‌ been tortured, but⁠ luckily, they looked‍ in pretty good⁠ shape.”

At‌ Eisen’s joke, Hans⁠ scratched the back⁠⁠ of his neck with an awkward⁠⁠‍ expression.

“To⁠‍‌ my surprise, they⁠ fed us pretty‌ well. It was⁠‌ stifling, but since⁠‍ they didn’t do⁠ anything to us,‌⁠‌ it was bearable.”‍

“You‌ should consider yourselves⁠⁠‍ lucky. If His‌‌ Highness hadn’t become⁠ a border marquis,⁠‍ things could have⁠ turned out horribly.”⁠

“In‍⁠ that case, I think they wouldn’t⁠‌ even have brought‌‍⁠ us back—they would’ve‌ just let us‌ go…”

Perhaps⁠⁠ because they’d grown‌‌ a little closer⁠ during the trip‌‍ north, Hans and‌‌‌ Ian joked around.⁠ Eisen also gave a faint smile,‌‍ as if it‍‌⁠ didn’t bother him.‌‌

However,‍ even in that‍ warmer atmosphere, Lucian‍‌ couldn’t smile at all.

Still,‌‌ Lucian couldn’t smile.‍‌‍

“Sir‍‌ Eisen.”

“Yes,‌ Your Highness.”

“Why‌‌ didn’t you kill‌⁠ Jordi?”

With‌ those words, the‌ cozy atmosphere froze‌⁠⁠ instantly. Only Eisen,‌ as if he⁠ had anticipated the‍‌ question, replied with‌ a bitter smile.‌

“Because‌‌ I do not‌ know the will⁠‍ of the duke.”‍‌

“My‌ father’s will?”

“When‌ someone faces death,‍‍ countless thoughts pass‍⁠ through their mind.‌ It’s not unusual‍‌ for values or‍‍ convictions to change‍⁠‍ after surviving a miracle.”

If‌ Duke Sigmund had‍‌ remained alive, perhaps‌‌ he would have‌⁠ cut him down‍‍ immediately.

But‍‌ the duke was‍⁠‌ dead, there was‍⁠ no designated heir,‍‌ and no one‍ knew what he⁠‌ had thought in⁠‌ his final moment.‍‌ For Eisen, it⁠ was impossible to‌‍ know what the⁠ right action was.⁠

“Interpreting the will of‌⁠ the dead for‍⁠‍ one’s own convenience‌ is a privilege⁠ of the living.‌‍‍ But as a vassal, I couldn’t‌ bring myself to‌ do it.”

“Do‍‍ you believe my⁠‌ father wished for Jordi to live?”‍‌‌

“I‌ don’t know. Maybe⁠‌ he ordered his‌‍ execution on the‍‌ spot, or perhaps‍ he hoped that,⁠ amid the family’s‍‍‍ chaos, even the‍ second young master‍ could serve as‌⁠⁠ a support.”

“You‍ feared that, depending‌‌ on the outcome,‌⁠ it might seem⁠ you interpreted your‍⁠‍ lord’s will to‌‍ your own convenience.”⁠‌

“Shamefully,⁠⁠ yes.”

Seeing‌ Eisen bow his‍‍ head with a guilty expression, Lucian closed his eyes.⁠‌ It was a decision made by‍ a truly loyal⁠ vassal who refused‌‌‍ to twist the‌⁠ will of his‌ lord.

But‍‍⁠ for Lucian, who‍‌‌ knew the truth,⁠‍ it was a decision bitter beyond words.

“It was an unavoidable‍ choice given your⁠‌ lack of knowledge,⁠ but it’s a decision you’ll regret‌ for the rest⁠ of your life.”⁠‍‍

“…What‌ do you mean?”⁠‌

“I⁠ heard a few⁠ things about my‍‌ father’s death directly from His Majesty‍‍ the Emperor.”

Lucian‍ spoke in a low voice, staring‌ Eisen straight in‍‌ the eyes.

“He⁠⁠ said that what‌‌‌ killed my father‌‍ was a black‍ tentacle that emerged‌‌⁠ from the shadows.”‌‍

“…!”‌

***⁠‍‍

Lucian⁠‍ explained everything.

The‌ conversation with the‌‌⁠ emperor through a magical artifact.

The‌⁠ mysterious black tentacle‍‍‌ and the death⁠ of Duke Sigmund.⁠

And Tristan, driven mad⁠ with rage.

“….”⁠‌

When‍⁠ he finished the account, Eisen stared‍ into space with⁠ a vacant look,‍ as if half‌ out of his⁠‍ mind from the⁠ impact.

The‍‍‌ Swordmaster’s silence lasted‍‌ so long that⁠‌⁠ someone was about‌‌ to speak when—‍⁠

Whoosh!

“Father!”‌‍

At‍ Felicia’s shout, everyone—including‌‍‌ Eisen—flinched. When they⁠ turned their heads, they saw a black energy creeping‍⁠ up Eisen’s thigh.⁠

“Sir Eisen!”

“Hng!”‍

huaaaak!⁠⁠‍

With‍ a short cry,‍‍ Eisen tensed his‌⁠ thigh, and the‍ black energy dissipated⁠ again.

Shaking off the remnants‍ of his corroded‌ trousers, he gave‌ a sorrowful smile.

“I’ve shown you something‌ shameful. Then again,‍⁠ I suppose there’s‌‍⁠ nothing more shameful‍‌ left to show.”⁠

“Sir‍ Eisen.”

“All‌ I had to‍ do was swing⁠ my sword once.⁠‌ And yet, out‍ of concern for‌⁠ my lord, I let my lord’s‍ killer slip away⁠ right before my⁠‍‍ eyes. Ha.”

Eisen‍ let out a laugh that bordered⁠ on tears. While‌ everyone remained silent,‍ Lucian stepped forward.‍‍

“What‍‌‌ was that black‍‌‍ energy just now?”⁠

“It’s‍ nothing serious. Just⁠ a scar left‍‍‌ by that mage.‍‌ A small cluster‍ settled in my‍ mana pathways and‍‌‍ has been trying‍ to devour my‍‌ body little by‌ little.”

“Are‍ you going to⁠⁠ be alright?”

“If‌‍‌ I keep suppressing‍‍ it, it’ll disappear⁠ in a few‌ days. Though it’s⁠⁠ meaningless now…”

Eisen⁠‍‍ murmured, eyes dim.‍ Although he looked fine, it was⁠⁠ clear that guilt⁠ was tearing him apart from the inside.

“Sir‍ Eisen, take this.”‌

Lucian⁠⁠ pulled out the⁠⁠‍ last nectar he⁠ had. Eisen, who‌ was about to‌‌ refuse thinking it⁠⁠ was an ordinary‍ potion, widened his‍⁠ eyes when he‍⁠ saw the softly⁠‍⁠ glowing liquid.

“What‍⁠ is this?”

“It’s‍ something that young‌ man created. A treasure with the⁠ highest efficacy among‌ all existing potions.”‌‌

Lucian‍ pointed at Ian.‌‍‍

Ian⁠⁠ scratched his cheek,‍‌⁠ embarrassed.

“It’s⁠‌ the masterpiece of‍⁠ my life.”

“Ho…”‍‌

Eisen‌⁠ let out a short exclamation, but‍ did not reach‌‌ for it. Lucian‍‍⁠ spoke first, noticing⁠ his hesitation.

“See⁠‍ for yourself. If‌ you’re afraid a potion made by‌ a novice could‍ harm you, I won’t insist.”

“…You⁠⁠ leave me no⁠ choice.”

With⁠ a bitter smile,‌ Eisen reached out‌ his hand. Although⁠⁠ he had only‌ saved them because‌ they were close⁠‌ to Lucian, a certain closeness had‌ developed during their‍‌ journey.

“I’ve‍‍ no choice but‌‌ to try it.⁠ If His Highness‍⁠ praises it so‍‌ much, it must‌‍ be an excellent‌‌ potion.”

With‍ a formal compliment,‍⁠‍ Eisen uncorked the‌ potion.

At‍ that moment, his‍ once-lifeless eyes flew⁠ wide open.

“This‍‌ is…!”

The⁠ mana emanating from⁠‍ the potion left‍⁠ him stunned. What⁠‍ elixir in the⁠‌ world released mana even before being drunk?

Rumble.⁠‌

The‍ moment Eisen drank‌‍ the potion with trembling hands, a pure energy exploded,‌ cleansing the mana‌‌ pathways.

For⁠‍‌ a Swordmaster whose‍ pathways were already‍ fully developed, the‌⁠ effect wasn’t drastic, but he instinctively⁠⁠⁠ understood it.

By‌⁠ drinking this alone,⁠‍ most knights could‌ surpass decades of⁠⁠ training.

Whoosh.⁠

‘The‍ cluster…!’

The‍ energy, cleansing the⁠‍ pathways like a waterfall, swept away‌‌ even the residue‌⁠ left by the‌ shadow.

While⁠ Eisen was left speechless by the‌‍⁠ overwhelming clarity—

“What‌‍ do you think?”‍‍

“Truly…‍⁠ impressive.”

It‌⁠ was a poor⁠ expression, but he‌‍ found no better⁠‌⁠ one. Lucian smiled⁠‌‍ upon seeing his‌⁠ astonishment.

“Yes. And the one‌ who created this⁠ impressive potion is⁠ precisely that young⁠‌ man.”

“….”‍‌‌

“Sir Eisen, you have⁠ saved the continent’s‌‌ future.”

Eisen‍‍‌ closed his eyes.‌ He knew it‌‌ was a consolation,‍ but they weren’t‌ empty words. That‌⁠⁠ potion truly had⁠ the potential to‌‍⁠ speak of the‌‍⁠ continent’s future.

“Third‍‌ young master… what‌ do you plan⁠ to do with this?”

Even‍ forgetting to address⁠‌ him as “Your⁠ Highness,” Eisen asked‌ with a faraway⁠‌ look.

Lucian shrugged lightly.

“Anything. But first, shouldn’t‍ I avenge my‌ father?”

It‍‍ was a promise⁠ to correct with‍ his own hands⁠⁠ the mistake Eisen‍‌ had made.

Consumed‍ by remorse, Eisen‌ closed his eyes⁠‌ like a sinner‌⁠⁠ who had found‌ a chance at redemption.

And‌‌⁠ with a voice‍‌ barely held together,‌ he managed to‌⁠ say one sentence.

“…Thank‍ you, third young‍‍ master.”

Lucian said nothing and⁠‍ gripped both of Eisen’s hands tightly, hoping to ease⁠‍ the regret of⁠ the old vassal, even if just‍‌‍ a little.

***⁠⁠⁠

There‍‌ were many stories‌‍‍ built up between‍‍ them, but the⁠ mental exhaustion was‍‌ even greater. The duke’s death, Jordi’s‍‍ rebellion, and the‌ mysterious collaborator.

They‍‌ were far too‍‍ heavy to resolve⁠⁠ in a single⁠‍ day.

“You⁠⁠ must still be⁠ tired from the⁠‍‌ journey, so rest‍ well. Choose any‌⁠‍ good room.”

“Are you sure that’s⁠ alright?”

“If‍‌⁠ the lord of‍ the White Palace⁠‍ allows it, who’s going to object?”‍

At‍ Lucian’s assurance, Hans,‍ Ian, and the⁠ others erupted in‌ cheers. Their lord had gone from⁠‌‍ being a young‌ noble of a great house to⁠⁠‌ becoming a duke.⁠‍‌

“Don’t‌‌‍ care what others‍ think. You’re all⁠ his youngest subordinates.‌⁠ If anyone mistreats‍ you for having‍⁠‍ been servants, discipline them immediately.”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

The‌‌ attendants replied firmly⁠ and dispersed. Only⁠‍ after no one‍‍ remained nearby did‌ Lucian follow Eisen‍‍ with a serious⁠‍⁠ face.

“Sir‍‌ Eisen.”

“Yes, third young mast…‌ Your Highness.”

“There’s‌ actually something I didn’t say before.”⁠

Eisen⁠ looked at Lucian’s face and smiled⁠⁠‌ faintly.

“I‍ know.”