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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Cyno
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The servants, already prepared for luncheon, stood neatly lined up along the corridor in formal attire, bowing as I passed. Their faces were all familiar.
I patted each of them on the shoulder or stomach in greeting.
“Hey. It’s good to see you all again. You’ve been doing well?”
The servants exchanged glances, clearly bewildered. This kind of behavior from me was unprecedented.
But I didn’t care. Honestly, I felt more kinship with commoners and slaves than with nobles. During the Age of Ruin, when the nobles and knights had abandoned me, it was these people I fought alongside, sharing life and death on the battlefield.
An elderly servant stammered in flustered gratitude.
“Y-Yes, thanks to your kindness, we’ve been living comfortably.”
“That’s good. Take care of yourselves. Forget about your kids—your health comes first.”
“Ah, yes—”
“Alright, keep up the good work. I’ll be on my way.”
As I entered the dining hall, I saw a noblewoman with an uncomfortable expression and a young 13-year-old noble boy sitting quietly. Helen, who had become my stepmother after my mother’s death, and her son—my half-brother, Josef.
I barely glanced at them before taking my seat right next to the head of the table.
‘I have to see them again? Ugh, this is torture.’
My relationship with those two wasn’t great. It was mostly me bullying them, but even so, it wasn’t exactly pleasant for me either. Every time I saw them, I was reminded of my late mother.
On her deathbed, she had made me swear that the moment I became Archduke, I would kill them—the woman and son who had stolen my father’s love. That’s how deep the resentment between us ran.
Of course, I had no real intention of eliminating them now, but that didn’t mean I was about to play happy family either.
It had been the same in my past life. Josef and I had never shared any brotherly affection.
Well, except once. When I was leaving for the final battle, we had something resembling a conversation. Josef had asked, “You’ll come back alive again, right?” and I had replied, “Might be a bit harder this time.” That was as far as it went.
‘Whatever. If I just avoid them, it’ll be fine. Tch.’
A moment later, my father entered with several attendants in tow.
“My wife. I’ve returned.”
Only then did Helen’s face brighten.
“Your Grace. Welcome back.”
“How have you been?”
“Very well, thank you.”
Father shot me a sharp glance. Of course, he knew exactly how I treated Helen. He had eyes and ears everywhere in the duchy.
But he said nothing, instead turning to Josef, who had rushed over to embrace him, and affectionately ruffled his hair.
“Our Josef has grown so much since I last saw you.”
“Yes~”
“Good. And your grades?”
“I ranked first in the entire school again.”
I hate to admit it, but Josef was a once-in-a-generation genius. At five, he had memorized 40,000 ancient runes, astounding everyone. At seven, he mastered the notoriously difficult Prattha’s Political Treatise, shocking the world.
By ten, he had become the disciple of Grand Sage Bilke, headmaster of the Imperial Noble Academy, delighting Father. And recently, he had memorized an entire library’s worth of imperial political philosophy, even grasping its deepest principles, earning him the title of Bilke’s top disciple.
Ugh, what an insufferable brat.
‘Tch. Of course you ranked first—why even brag about it? Just wait. In eight years, none of that will matter. When the world ends, who’s going to care how many books you’ve read? Swords will be the only thing that counts. Heh.’
I smiled contentedly. In the past, I had been so intimidated by Josef’s genius that I couldn’t even lift my head in Father’s presence. But now, with some life experience under my belt, I could at least console myself with this petty victory.
And honestly, while I might’ve been a terrible student, my talent and dedication to swordsmanship were second to none. Sure, maybe I’d thrown myself into the sword because books made my eyes glaze over—but so what? I’d still reached Master-level swordsmanship by my thirties.
“Your Grace, the first course will be served shortly.”
“Very well.”
Father gently guided Josef to his seat before heading to his own. But as he passed me, I caught a shadow in his gaze.
I knew that look all too well. It was the frustration of a father who couldn’t make his illegitimate son his heir.
No matter what, Father could never replace me with Josef. That was the power of my bloodline.
‘Ugh, I have to see that look until the world ends? This is hell.’
In the past, I had resented Father for this. Logically, we were both his sons—why dote on Josef and not me?
Maybe that was why I had feared him so much back then. A beating was just a beating, but that look in his eyes had stabbed deeper than any blade.
I took a sip of the soup a servant brought me and glanced at Father.
‘He was so strong back then.’
Suddenly, the memory of Father’s death surfaced. I didn’t want to recall it, but his expression had triggered it.
On the day the demonic beasts overran the imperial capital, Father had come to me, gaunt and haggard. The man once called the Ironblood Chancellor now looked like a broken old soldier—small and insignificant.
Even now, the memory was bitter and sad—but also infuriating.
Before leaving for his final battle, Father had entrusted me with Helen and Josef—but not a single word of concern for me. Never mind that I’d survived countless near-death situations—it was still too cruel.
‘Fine. Let him have it. What’s the big deal about being Archduke anyway?’
I decided then and there to willingly yield the position to Josef.
In the Age of Ruin, it would all be a meaningless mirage anyway. No point clinging to it and living in Father’s shadow. Frankly, giving it up now seemed like the better deal.
“Father—”
“Ah, now that I think of it, Baron Tyben came to see me recently.”
Father cut me off mid-sentence. What an insufferable man.
“Baron Tyben?”
“Yes. Apparently, his granddaughter is with child.”
The moment I saw the anger in Father’s eyes, I remembered.
The baron’s granddaughter was Lilia, a classmate from the Imperial Noble Academy. She had flirted with me relentlessly before graduation, and since she was pretty enough, we’d slept together a few times. But it had become a problem—Baron Tyben had used her pregnancy to demand a formal marriage.
But as someone already betrothed, taking her as my official wife was out of the question. Father had quietly resolved the matter by granting the baron significant political concessions.
I scratched the bridge of my nose a few times before speaking calmly.
“And?”
“Surely you’re not asking because you don’t know who the father is?”
Oh, I knew. Too well.
“Of course I know.”
“Who is it?”
“Sir Leyton, her knight.”
Father’s eyebrows twitched violently.
“The baron claims otherwise.”
“He’s wrong. I’m certain. I know about Lilia and Leyton—”
I was 100% sure the child wasn’t mine. I’d heard it from her own lips and seen it with my own eyes.
After the capital fell and my retainers abandoned me, I had nowhere to go, so I sought refuge with Baron Tyben. I thought, at the very least, as the father of her child, they wouldn’t treat me too harshly.
But I was wrong. They drove me out with brutal cruelty. Desperate, I argued—but Lilia’s response was that the child wasn’t mine.
And she was right. The boy who appeared beside her looked exactly like Leyton. I mean, identical. I couldn’t even muster a proper protest before leaving Tyben’s lands.
“You’re absolutely sure?”
“Yes. If you doubt me, use magic for a paternity test.”
“And if it is yours? Then we’ll have no choice but to concede even more to the baron.”
“That won’t happen. Don’t worry about it.”
Father studied me intently before finally nodding. It seemed he’d decided to trust me. Not that a seasoned politician like him could miss the complete lack of deceit in my expression.
And when it came to Father, I always told the truth. Lying would’ve been pointless—he’d see through it instantly.
“Very well. I’ll handle the baron.”
“What will you do?”
“He tried to blackmail me. He’ll pay the price.”
There was murder in Father’s eyes. The baron had dared use his granddaughter’s pregnancy as leverage—only to be lying. The Ironblood Archduke wouldn’t let that slide.
I clicked my tongue.
“Let it go.”
“No. If he plays a foolish game, he should face the consequences. That’s politics.”
“I’ll settle it myself later, so don’t worry about it.”
“What do you mean?”
After being driven out of Tyben’s lands, I had met Lilia again—at Fort Steden, if I remembered correctly. At the time, I was leading 5,000 conscripts as a captain, while she was a lowly prostitute selling herself to slave soldiers just to survive.
The world had turned upside down so fast it was almost laughable.
My feelings at the time had been… complicated. Seeing a noblewoman reduced to selling her body for a scrap of bread was surreal. So when Lilia tried to flee in tears, I grabbed her wrist, handed her a bundle of jerky and some bread, and left without a word.
That evening, from a distance, I saw a woman—presumably Lilia—throw herself from the walls into the horde of monsters below, weeping bitterly.
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