"They likely don't know the location of the Emperor's Treasury. Even if they did, it's not something that can be opened so easily. After all, it lies within the forgotten ancient kingdom of the dwarves."
"You've come to your senses, teacher."
"Yes. Congratulations, Sir Guillaumevalt. Now that Young Master Adler has lost both arms, you are the rightful heir to Count Lantarik."
Brand said this, but there wasn't a trace of a smile on his face.
There was a deep, blood-soaked resentment in his expression.
'Of course. He served my father loyally all his life… but Father…'
Guillaumevalt, who knew the terrible things Count Lantarik had done to Brand, couldn't accept his congratulations at face value. Still, he wanted to find some way to make it up to him…
"D-Don't be ridiculous! As if this pathetic fool is some count!"
Adler, collapsed on the floor, screamed.
"Young Master Adler. You're finished. The vassals once supported you because you were recognized by the count as his successor, but now? In this state, with both your arms gone—what vassal would still support you? Especially when there are such clear traces of necromancy in the underground chamber? It's irrefutable evidence. You'd be burned at the stake without anyone raising a word in protest. Let me say it again. You're finished!"
Brand mocked Adler. But Adler, perhaps from the pain, was no longer in his right mind.
"How dare you! Don't make me laugh! I'm a successful creation! You, Guillaumevalt, and those corpses lying in the crypt! You're all defective failures! But you ruined me! Urgh. My… my arms! I have to reattach them! With necromancy, I can still reattach them! My arms!"
Adler crawled toward his severed arms on the floor. But Brand walked over and slammed his axe-spear down on one of the arms.
"Y-You bastard!?"
—Thunk!
Brand raised his axe-spear again and brought it down. Adler's arm was chopped into pieces. As he watched his arm being butchered like a hunk of meat in a butcher's shop, Adler gasped in horror.
"St-Stop it!"
"Aha ha. And why should I stop? When I told those bandits to stop—those agents loyal to Count Lantarik—they didn't stop at all!"
Brand, holding the axe-spear, was weeping as he laughed.
"They didn't stop at all!"
It was a grotesque sight. Laughing, crying, Brand minced Adler's arm with his axe-spear. The arm was already severed from the body, so Adler felt no physical pain from it—but the horrific scene made everyone watching feel a chill run down their spine.
"Teacher Brand."
Guillaumevalt called out to Brand. But that was all he could do.
He couldn't bring himself to stop him. With madness flickering in Brand's eyes, there was no telling what might happen if anyone tried to restrain him.
Then Brand's head turned suddenly toward Guillaumevalt. It was a chilling motion, like a predator turning on its prey.
"Do you think I've gone too far? Of course you would. Adler here is not the count. He probably didn't even know what happened to my family. But then, what about my daughter and son-in-law, my grandson? What sin did they commit to deserve such a gruesome death?"
"I'm sorry, Teacher Brand! But…"
"Yes, I know. Guilt by association is the revenge of the uncivilized. But how can it be that you inherit power, wealth, even legacy—and not guilt? If you inherit the benefits, you should inherit the sins, too! And I, as the father of my daughter and son-in-law, my grandchildren, I must—!"
"No! Stop!"
Azadin tried to intervene, but it was too late. In his rage, Brand turned and swung his axe-spear at Guillaumevalt.
Azadin threw a candlestick, slightly dulling the weapon's force, but it wasn't enough to stop Brand's brute strength.
And then, something unexpected happened.
Guillaumevalt blocked Brand's attack with his sword. He had anticipated that Brand, in his fury, might turn on him.
"Urgh!"
A tremendous force pressed into Guillaumevalt's body, contorting him as he was pushed back.
—Thud!
Though he had blocked the axe-spear, the strength behind it was overwhelming. Guillaumevalt rolled across the floor.
"Stop!"
Azadin finally managed to halt Brand. At that, Brand instead broke down in sobs and threw away his weapon.
"Uuuhhh… Please. I can't take it anymore… Just kill me instead."
"First of all, it would be more painful to keep Adler alive."
"..."
"And you, Guillaumevalt… are you all right?"
"M-My arm is broken."
"You're really weak, you know."
Getting your arm broken by a scribe—Azadin gave a wry smile as he turned to Guillaumevalt with a question.
"Do you want to get revenge on Brand? A mere scribe struck the future lord—you can't just let that slide, can you?"
"N-No, of course not… Ha ha."
Guillaumevalt shook his head.
"He has every right to be angry. I didn't know he'd suffered so much. I had no idea what my father and brother had done."
"I see."
Azadin gave a faint smile.
"Sir Brand. Young Master Adler's life is yours. But could you let Guillaumevalt off with just this?"
"I understand it in my head, but I just can't bear it."
"But look at that face. Just look. Doesn't resemble his father at all, does he?"
"..."
That was a little cruel—Guillaumevalt had always been self-conscious about his appearance.
"Beating down a child abandoned by his father for the father's sins—that's too much, don't you think? Let Guillaumevalt inherit Lantarik. That's the true revenge against Count Lantarik. The count would absolutely hate it. Wouldn't he?"
Azadin tried to reason with Brand.
"Indeed… Sir Guillaumevalt does not resemble the count."
Moved by Azadin's persuasion, Brand finally fell to his knees.
"My apologies, Sir Guillaumevalt. I… I lost control."
To think Brand could be calmed down by this!
Still, Guillaumevalt didn't feel entirely at ease. But the joy of having persuaded Brand outweighed the sting of the comment about his looks.
"It's all right, Teacher Brand. If anything, I should be the one thanking you for tolerating my presence. A broken arm is nothing, really."
By accepting Brand's apology, Guillaumevalt instead showed the grace of someone asking for forgiveness.
"How shameful… I feel like I'm going to lose my mind."
When Brand said that, Azadin's expression turned serious.
"Ah, don't lose your mind just yet. I like Brass Knight, but since you've come back to your senses, you should finish what you were saying about the Emperor's Treasury."
"Hahaha."
Brand let out a bitter laugh and gestured to Azadin.
"Let's go to the count's study. We'll search there for the count's personal notes."
But before the group could make their way to the study, the vassals arrived late. What they found was Adler, restrained and missing both arms, and Guillaumevalt, injured but still standing tall.
"W-What is this!?"
"Sir Guillaumevalt?!"
The vassals were shocked. The scene before them left nothing to interpretation.
"According to the laws established by the Eight Sacred Thrones of Yaegas, as the firstborn, I have come to act on behalf of my father, Count Lantarik, and restore order to this land. If there is anyone who would deny my birthright, step forward now."
Guillaumevalt stood proudly before the vassals.
It was the people of the Herald Clan, of the Arael's Faction, who had cut off Adler's arms—but the way Guillaumevalt spoke made it seem as though he himself had done it.
The vassals exchanged glances. But only for a moment. Soon, they all knelt before Guillaumevalt.
"Sir Guillaumevalt! You are the true master of Lantarik!"
"Please, lead Lantarik forward!"
"Y-You treacherous bastards!"
Adler was furious to see even the vassals had turned their backs on him, but the moment he lost his arms, the battle was already decided.
With Adler already captured, there was no vassal who would dare challenge Guillaumevalt's birthright.
In truth, none of them had been particularly loyal to Adler. The count had designated Adler, and since Guillaumevalt had yet to stand out at the time, they had merely gone along with it.
But now that Guillaumevalt had displayed exceptional talent, there was no reason to defy the kingdom's law and support the youngest son, Adler.
"Thank you. It was because of your devoted service that Lantarik has known prosperity. I have not forgotten your efforts."
Guillaumevalt praised the vassals who had so quickly flipped their allegiance.
The vassals, unable to hide their shame, blushed before Guillaumevalt. But Guillaumevalt bore them no ill will. His father had surely instructed them to support Adler, and their choice had been, in a way, loyalty to his father.
"I know that my father asked you to look after Adler. I understand that your presence by his side was an act of loyalty. But now, Salasma suffers from drought, refugees overflow, and an unjust war has brought death to our people. Even the treasury of Lantarik is empty. If I become count, I will restore our ties with Salasma and bring relief to our starving people. Your help is more crucial now than ever. Will you aid me?"
"Th-Thank you."
The vassals were relieved that Guillaumevalt had no intention of purging them. Instead, he meant to work them hard. There was a vast difference between mere mercy and keeping someone alive because they were needed.
Moreover, Guillaumevalt's words were both magnanimous and compassionate, naturally stirring admiration.
"Well then… I will see to the affairs of Lantarik with the vassals. Teacher Brand, please carry out what I promised to those who aided me."
"Understood."
With Guillaumevalt's permission, Brand headed toward the study.
"Shati!"
Before following, Azadin called to Shati.
"Use regeneration magic on Sir Guillaumevalt's arm."
"Do you really think I'm just some kind of walking medicine cabinet?"
"You don't want to?"
When Azadin asked, Midiam and Ishmael subtly reached for their weapons.
They had already extracted all the information they could from Shati. The only thing left of use was her green magic—especially the power of regeneration. If she refused to cooperate now, there would be no choice but to kill her.
"N-No!"
Shati was visibly frightened by the quiet threat from Midiam and Ishmael.
'For a naga agent, she's surprisingly timid.'
'So fragile…'
Then, Azadin stepped between them and spoke.
"That came off as a veiled threat, but setting that aside, I do have high expectations for you. You've been incredibly useful and dependable. Honestly, you've exceeded expectations, and I'm truly grateful each time."
"..."
"Please."
"Ugh, seriously. Warm-blooded creatures are impossible. Fine, I'll do it."
Shati agreed to heal Guillaumevalt's injury.
"Thank you."
Azadin grinned and followed after Brand toward the study.