Chapter 79

Lucian hurried to grab the knight who was about to cut off his arm with his sword.

It wasn’t just a threat—the blade had already sunk into his skin, and blood was pouring out.

Had he stopped even a little later, with his enhanced strength, it would’ve reached the bone.

‘How much must this lunatic hate Calix?’

The sword is the symbol of a knight. The moment his body is injured and he can no longer wield it, for a knight, it’s practically the end.

And yet, he was willing to sacrifice an arm just to destroy Calix.

“First, calm down and explain yourself. What did Calix do to drive you to this?”

“Their crimes don’t even deserve to be listed! They shamelessly usurped the name of Grimaldi and divided the northern lords, so their sins—!”

“Let’s not talk about fighting for the cause. I may be young, but I’m not so naïve as to believe that.”

Lucian’s cold voice startled the knight, who had been ranting for some time.

It was clear he didn’t want to reveal the real reason and was trying to use the greater cause as an excuse.

After hesitating for a long while, the knight let out a deep sigh.

“There’s a grudge.”

“I don’t know what that grudge is. Is it personal? Or is it your lord’s grudge?”

“Both. Those Calix bastards did something to the lord I serve… eh.”

The knight hesitated again and again, glancing at Lucian as if struggling to speak.

But if he stayed silent now, not only would he fail to gain trust—he’d deepen the suspicion. In the end, as if giving up, he opened his mouth.

“They instigated a rebellion in the territory. We managed to suppress it somehow, but many died and were wounded because of it.”

“A rebellion? Don’t tell me someone without succession rights rose up in arms? That would be practically treason against the Empire.”

“No. It was the second son of my lord—no, the one who was the second son—who started the rebellion.”

“I see.”

Hearing the knight’s dull voice, Lucian nodded. Even if there was outside instigation, the one responsible for the rebellion was still a member of the lord’s family.

It was a scandal that happened within the territory itself—a situation far too shameful to tell others.

To have suffered such serious damage from a family rebellion meant, both as the head of the family and as a lord, a lack of capability.

‘So they didn’t just target Baron Harald. Looks like they dug into every territory with the potential for rebellion among the most radically opposed lords.’

A crime so serious that it would not only make them public enemies of the North, but could even lead to an extermination order with imperial approval.

At this point, it was clear they had crossed the line by far.

Seeing Lucian’s reaction, the knight, who had been bowing his head, burned again with fury and shouted.

“Their sins have reached the heavens! Not even the Eight Gods will grant them mercy anymore, so only punishment remains! We will support whatever you wish—so please, in the name of justice, punish Calix!”

‘Aha.’

At the knight’s cry, so fervent it bordered on desperation, Lucian smiled inwardly.

He was starting to understand why they were clinging to him so desperately.

‘They want to take revenge using my name as a pretext.’

No matter how much they had instigated a rebellion, without proof, it was impossible to mobilize a large-scale army.

A territorial war might be something the imperial family would find troublesome, but if the scale was too large, they wouldn’t let it slide.

And if they fought in a conventional way, one by one, they’d be crushed by Calix’s military power.

‘They plan to raise an allied force and use me as the justification to wipe out Calix. After all, there’s no better foothold than me.’

Even for Calix, trying to kill the third son of the Grand Duchy of Valdeck was extremely troublesome.

Moreover, Lucian had a legitimate claim to the name of Grimaldi—far greater than Calix’s—and connections that could inform the imperial family of the internal affairs without it seeming like rebellion.

For them, clinging to Lucian was the only way to carry out their revenge.

“I understand how you feel. Calix has committed too many atrocities to be forgiven. It’s about time they paid the price.”

“Does that mean…?”

“But not yet. I haven’t reclaimed the name of Grimaldi. Only when I punish them as the legitimate heir of Grimaldi can it be said that justice has been restored—don’t you agree?”

“Of course! If you ever need support, say the word at any time!”

Afraid Lucian would change his mind, the knight urgently pledged his support.

He didn’t stop at words—he even handed over a personal letter from his lord stating that, as long as they received permission from the imperial family, they would immediately come with troops to support him.

Lucian kept the letter and suppressed a smile.

‘With this, military strength is secured.’

Even as he thought that, he had no intention of starting a full-on war with the house of Count Calix.

He had gained reliable allies, but the enemy’s power wasn’t something to be underestimated either.

Even with imperial permission, charging ahead with half-baked strength could end in disaster.

‘The important thing is that now there are those who desperately need my existence, and who, if necessary, would be willing to raise armies for me.’

Lucian had the strength to protect himself.

He also trusted the abilities of Felicia, Raymond, and Hugo. But no matter how strong someone is, it’s hard to block ten attacks with one hand.

He needed another hand—strong or weak—and they had come, offering to be that hand.

‘Considering their circumstances, they’ll do everything they can to protect me, even if it’s just for revenge.’

For the house of Count Calix, who might have even considered kidnapping or forced repatriation as last resorts, the situation had become extremely uncomfortable.

From now on, the only option left was to face Lucian directly, in a fair confrontation.

And if it came to a head-on clash, Lucian was confident he wouldn’t lose to anyone.

***

A few days passed since then, and Calix sent another emissary.

“Greetings to young lord Lucian. My name is Marcel Herscher, I serve the house of Count Calix.”

The knight, with a lean build and a somber gaze, gave an impression completely opposite to Palmir, who had overflowed with arrogance.

As soon as he finished introducing himself, Marcel got straight to the point.

“I’ll be blunt. The count wishes to engage in a legitimate contest with you, wagering the name of Grimaldi.”

“A legitimate contest?”

Lucian tilted his head with a mocking smile.

“What nonsense. A contest is only necessary between people with equivalent rights. Isn’t it absurd that someone would try to compete with me, the maternal grandson of the former Grand Duke?”

“But you are not a northerner, young lord.”

Marcel replied without flinching.

“We’ve said it many times, and we’ll keep repeating it. You know it as well as we do.”

At such shamelessness, Lucian’s retainers, including Harald, all furrowed their brows at once.

It was clear that, unable to give up the name Grimaldi, they were clinging to any excuse possible, no matter the legitimate rights.

Scornful gazes pierced Marcel, but he stood firm, as if wrapped in invisible armor.

“As you know, many things have already happened in the North. Some have won, others have lost. If you now intend to annul it all, regardless of your reasoning, no one will accept it willingly or step aside.”

“And if I win this contest, they’ll just accept it? In a competition with no legal authority? That’s hardly convincing.”

“It will be a contest held before the eyes of all the North. If Calix proposes it and then backs down, who would ever follow us again?”

In other words, whether they liked it or not, they would have to abide by the outcome.

It wasn’t a flawed argument, so Lucian gestured for him to continue.

“Furthermore, this contest will follow an ancient northern tradition. If the young lord possesses northern blood, he won’t reject it, will he?”

“An ancient northern tradition?”

“The Hundred-Day Hunt.”

Bang!

“Those damn bastards!”

With wide eyes, Harald slammed the table hard.

Wood splinters flew in all directions as Marcel calmly bowed his head.

“I ask you to remain calm. I’ve only come to deliver the terms.”

“Shut up! Those slithering bastards don’t even bother to hide their tricks anymore! If you’re so eager to die, I’ll cut off your—!”

“Baron Harald.”

Harald, who was about to grab his axe, stopped at Lucian’s voice.

With a trembling hand, he forced himself to release the weapon and spat out his words in anger.

“If you weren’t a guest of young lord Lucian, your head would already be rolling on the floor.”

“I will keep your lordship’s consideration in my heart.”

The tone, far from grateful, made Harald flare up again, but at Lucian’s glance, he reluctantly sat back down.

Once the situation had calmed, Lucian looked at Marcel.

“What exactly does this Hundred-Day Hunt involve?”

Marcel gave a cold smile.

“As I said, it is an ancient tradition of the North.”

***

“For fifteen days, participants must survive in the snowy northern mountains. The one who returns with the most valuable bounty will be deemed the winner. A maximum of five companions is allowed, and bringing provisions is strictly forbidden.”

After sending Marcel off to continue the discussion in private, Lucian reflected on what he had just heard.

Originally, the hunt lasted one hundred days, but due to its extreme length and danger, it had been reduced to fifteen.

“It’s an interesting tradition. Stripping away all background and measuring only individual ability. The North is growing on me more and more.”

“Now is not the time to be so calm!”

Harald looked at him furiously.

“Do you really think those guys are aiming for a fair contest?”

“Of course not.”

Lucian shrugged while studying the map. The mountain range Marcel had marked as the contest site was marked in red.

“The proposed range is near Calix’s territory and surrounded by allied domains. Even if my supporters keep watch, it’s their backyard—they could set traps in secret.”

“Then you must reject the proposal.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’ve invoked tradition. If I back down now, the image I’ve built with the people will collapse.”

Harald fell silent.

If Lucian rejected a northern tradition, even those who had hailed him as a hero of royal blood would feel disappointment.

“At worst, all the recognition I’ve earned until now could vanish. They’d soon say that, in the end, I was just another southerner.”

“So you’ll accept the proposal knowing it’s a trap?”

“Yes.”

“What…!”

Lucian’s confidence bordered on arrogance, and Harald let out a disbelieving laugh.

Lucian added calmly.

“I’m not accepting it blindly. They also won’t dare to harm me directly and provoke Valdeck’s wrath. At most, they’ll try to harass me indirectly.”

“Just because your life isn’t in danger doesn’t guarantee victory. If you lose, you’re just handing them a favor.”

“It doesn’t matter. As long as I accept the contest, the result is irrelevant. What I need is the recognition of the North, not theirs.”

“…?”

Lucian smiled at the confusion on Harald’s face.

“What does it matter whether they recognize me or not? Under imperial law, the rights to the Grimaldi inheritance belong to me anyway. As long as the North as a whole accepts it, their protests are just noise.”

Harald blinked, stunned.

“Seen that way…”

It wasn’t a flawed interpretation. Even if the North maintained some distance from the imperial family, it was still part of the Empire.

Legally, the lands and assets of the former Grand Duke belonged to Lucian.

If the majority of the North acknowledged him and he claimed the inheritance, the house of Calix would look ridiculous even mentioning Grimaldi.

“But even so, they won’t give up their claims without resistance. Even if they acknowledge him, they’ll find excuses not to hand things over.”

“Then it’ll be enough to resort to public authority.”

“Public authority?”

“My lord.”

Just as Lucian was about to respond, Felicia’s voice came from outside.

“The inspector has arrived with an edict from His Majesty the Emperor.”