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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Yuziro
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After Eldmia left, Duke Lesrom placed the received document on his desk, sat down, and sighed deeply.
The relaxed demeanor he had maintained in the boy’s presence vanished, replaced by an expression of profound fatigue.
Perhaps he had misjudged from the start.
His instincts, honed over years in the viper’s nest of politics, told him so.
Eldmia’s hesitant, noncommittal response, delivered with a look of displeasure, had conveyed only the barest minimum of respect.
His initial decision to treat the boy favorably had been a stroke of luck.
“To think I’d live to see the day…”
He muttered.
No fear of the royal family, no concern for the nobles’ political games.
Throughout their conversation, the only emotions Eldmia had displayed were irritation and annoyance.
If it were mere youthful arrogance and ignorance, he could have laughed it off…
“The only thing they have in common is their youth.”
He mused.
Fifteen years old?
Aside from a lingering boyishness in his features, there was nothing about Eldmia that suggested his age. It felt like having tea with a caged predator.
Pushing aside the thought that this was unbecoming of his age, Duke Lesrom retrieved his communication crystal and infused it with mana.
As if waiting, the face of the man who had put him in this situation appeared in the crystal.
He had been waiting.
He’d contacted the king the moment he’d heard of Eldmia’s arrival, received his instructions, and promised to report back.
Offering a cursory bow to his liege, King Itsiel VII, Duke Lesrom began his report.
“I’ve secured a reprieve, a chance to observe. But don’t expect this to be resolved with a simple compensation.”
Their relationship wasn’t so formal that he needed to kneel before the crystal.
Though unacknowledged publicly, their bond was strong, bordering on friendship.
It was this bond that had allowed them to endure seven years of war and internal strife.
Ironically, those seven years of hardship had only strengthened their connection, but that was irrelevant now.
“The initial approach may have been flawed. His thought process is… different.”
“Let’s say someone subtly manipulated me, using my position and abilities for their own gain. I would naturally investigate, identify their motives, and determine if they were friend or foe. If they then offered an apology and compensation exceeding my initial loss, I would be inclined to view them favorably. If our goals aligned, we could maintain a positive relationship.”
Perfectly logical.
A matter of simple cost-benefit analysis.
But this fifteen-year-old boy, seemingly sprung from nowhere, saw things differently.
“Eldmia Egga doesn’t think that way. If you cause him a loss of ten and offer a gain of twenty, he doesn’t see a net gain of ten. He sees an enemy who tried to use him, regardless of the final outcome.”
He didn’t care about the resulting profit.
He saw it as bait offered by an enemy.
Perhaps he operated under the rather domineering assumption that he could acquire what he wanted on his own.
Therefore, he would retaliate ruthlessly, ensuring they wouldn’t dare try to use him again.
It appeared impulsive and reckless, but it was a calculated decision, which was the truly troubling part.
The only consolation was that, not being driven by emotion, he likely wouldn’t hold a grudge.
If they could maintain a positive relationship after that initial… outburst… Eldmia Egga could become a valuable ally.
Provided they didn’t pay with their lives for the mistake of provoking him unknowingly.
“This conversation confirmed my suspicions. He will hold us accountable for using the Margrave of Levien to eliminate Count Bosha and his faction.”
“He would do the same to the Emperor of the Empire.”
“He’s calculating the cost.”
Lesrom stated.
Determining the extent of their manipulation and the appropriate level of retribution.
Whether it warranted tolerance or outright hostility.
It was audacious.
How could one person challenge a nation?
But his past actions suggested it was possible.
“He’s not unreasonable. His calculations might seem absurd from a conventional perspective, but they’re logically sound. And he’s capable of… sentimentality. He’s not the type to resort to unprovoked violence.”
King Itsiel VII chuckled and stroked his beard, mirroring Lesrom’s own unease.
“The daughter of House Ogatorf maintains a perfectly amicable relationship with him, despite being assaulted in their first encounter. He seems surprisingly reasonable, as long as there’s no overt hostility or attempts at manipulation.”
“If that were the case, he wouldn’t have refused their considerable offers and chosen to work as a mere butler.”
Lord Ekaf was a loyal subject, but politically naive.
The regular reports never failed to mention Eldmia, the promising talent who had played a crucial role in portraying Lagnis as the tragic hero of Levien.
They also expressed the hope that the king would officially reward Eldmia for his service, given his tendency to refuse Lord Ekaf’s offers.
“If we can connect with him on a personal level, I believe we can steer this relationship in a positive direction.”
Personal.
A concept that felt increasingly foreign to Duke Lesrom.
There was no guarantee of complete absolution, but it was certainly preferable to someone dying.
“You don’t mean that.”
Eliminating someone simply because they were difficult to control would have left humanity unable to use magic.
Such an approach only led to stagnation.
Both Itsiel VII and Duke Lesrom understood this.
“Who knows? Perhaps he’ll uncover the identity of the demon commander before this is all over. If he shares that information, he might overlook this incident.”
The suggestion had been made lightly, but the king’s response was sincere.
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Leaving the Noble Quarter, I prayed I wouldn’t have to face that wily old fox a third time.
I never considered myself particularly intelligent, in this life or the last, but constantly dealing with people like him was exhausting.
Making sure I was justified in drawing my sword meant I couldn’t act without certainty.
The more these brilliant minds schemed and plotted, the fewer problems I could solve with a simple swing of my blade.
I hadn’t neglected my studies, but politics was a different beast altogether.
I honestly thought I’d never have to deal with it.
But now, two of the three women who cared for me were right in the thick of it.
“How did this happen…?” I muttered.
Lost in thought, I’d taken about twenty steps when Asirye emerged from the crowd.
Her serene expression was a welcome sight.
“That was quick”
She observed.
“Things… aligned, I suppose. He agreed to help.”
“You seem troubled.”
“I am…”
This wasn’t the place for such a conversation, so we agreed to discuss it back at the mansion.
First, we had to deal with the tail.
“What did you do with our shadow?”
“It wasn’t a shadow. It was Yen Tie.”
“Huh? Why her?”
Surprised by the unexpected answer, I blurted out the question.
Asirye removed her hood, smoothed her hair, and explained.
“She had a similar idea, I think. She anticipated you’d be followed, and planned to track them back to their source. She approached me first.”
So her promise to repay me wasn’t empty words.
Was this what it felt like to be a boss with a self-motivated intern…?
Never having been a boss, I found it unsettling.
“She seems quite competent.”
“She is. I suppose anyone who serves the Dream would be.”
Unlike me, who had found the Dream Worshippers unfamiliar, Asirye seemed to have heard of them.
What struck me, however, wasn’t Yen Tie’s competence, but Asirye’s ability to detect her, even in the city.
It made me wonder what kind of elf hunters could capture someone as skilled as Asirye in a city, no less.
I figured I’d encounter them eventually, given my habit of slaughtering every slave trader I came across, so I didn’t ask.
It wouldn’t be a pleasant memory anyway.
With my concerns allayed, we returned to the mansion, feeling considerably lighter.
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[I’m in the thick of ittttt]
T/N Got the same brainrot as me fr 😭🙏🏾