My Twenty-Six-Year-Old Noble Lord was a "masterpiece" cobbled together from gossip painstakingly gathered by the Shadow Brotherhood—seasoned with imagination, then written in flowery, elegant prose to resemble an epoch-defining romance.
Though no names were mentioned, anyone with half a brain could tell it was a thinly veiled jab at Count Philip.
I love these jokesters so much.
Wade eagerly read on, full of anticipation.
The story was told from the perspective of a wealthy female merchant who recounted her fateful encounter with a down-and-out young noble and their descent into a whirlwind romance. The tale was stuffed with every popular trope imaginable—tragic love, love triangles, returning exes—each one keeping readers hooked.
At one point, even a few powerful nobles entered the picture, and the heroine's heart began to waver toward them.
By the end, the merchant tearfully bid farewell to the young noble who no longer loved her. He left with most of her fortune, returned to his family, and successfully inherited the position of family head, washing away his reputation as a fallen noble once and for all.
Wait—
Wade reread the page, and realization dawned on him.
Isn't this basically saying Count Philip used to sell himself!?
"Lies! Utter lies!"
Count Philip tore the leaflet to shreds, his eyes bloodshot with fury.
"Slander! I'll have every last one of those bastards who dare defame a noble seized and executed!"
But his attendants exchanged uneasy looks.
The leaflet hadn't mentioned his name. All he had to do was deny it outright. So why was he reacting so… desperately?
A few attendants with normal inclinations quietly backed away. Others—those with more peculiar tastes—watched him with strangely sparkling eyes.
Lately, Count Philip had grown increasingly unable to control his emotions, as though his self-restraint had been stripped away. Yet he himself didn't seem to realize it.
When he turned the leaflet over, his rage erupted anew. He spat a mouthful of blood.
On the back was a sprawling list written in tiny script—over a hundred supposed lovers he'd secretly taken over the years!
For many nobles, having numerous lovers was something to boast about. But not for Count Philip.
Since his marriage, he'd only ever truly loved one woman—Sali's mother.
After her death, he'd sealed his heart. No one else could compare to the white moonlight that lingered in his memories.
"This is pure slander!"
Consumed by anger, he ordered his guards to shoot down the Shadow Brotherhood's airship!
But whether arrows or spells, every attack was stopped by a black barrier before they could even approach the ship. Nothing could touch it.
That only drove Philip further into madness.
And then—people discovered another kind of leaflet.
This one laid out, in excruciating detail, Count Philip's shady dealings over the years. Forget petty corruption or diluted potions—these were genuine crimes.
Years ago, for instance, to seize a newly discovered mine on the border, he had staged a monster attack. Countless guards from the neighboring city were killed or injured, and Philip swooped in to claim the mine for himself.
The neighboring city lord's beloved youngest son had been crippled in that "attack." If he were to learn the truth now—
These were the truly fatal blows.
Gossip could stain a reputation, but these… these could destroy him.
Philip didn't even have time to wonder how the Shadow Brotherhood knew so much. He could only order his men to gather every single leaflet they could find—at any cost!
But… the Shadow Brotherhood didn't rely on just one airship.
At the same time, ten more airships flew over the major cities, scattering leaflets like snow. Stopping them was impossible.
And these new leaflets were different from the ones in Bedford City. No noble scandals this time—instead, they detailed the bonfire upgrade system of Sein Dungeon, its incredible potential for the future, even quoting "endorsements" from renowned scholars.
Not only that—they described the mysterious visions seen within the bonfires, weaving them into a grand imagined epic, a tale dripping with hype and mystique.
At the end, the writer struck hard at House Bedford's attempt to monopolize the dungeon and issued a rousing call:
"Go forth! The world's history, hidden treasures, and strange creatures—all of it has been placed in Sein Dungeon by the Creator Himself!"
"Down with the vile, shameless House of Bedford! Take back the dungeon that belongs to everyone!"
To those unfamiliar with the Shadow Brotherhood's influence—it was simple. All rulers hated them. Countless attempts had been made to root out their so-called "tabloid guild," but their base had never been found.
Ordinary people, however, loved them.
Not only did they bring rare amusement to dull lives, but they also exposed injustices—at least, as long as those stories had enough flair.
The Shadow Goddess of Delight—one of the most mysterious deities—was said to be the Brotherhood's divine patron. Surely, they thrived under her blessing.
As Bedford City turned white with falling leaflets, Count Philip stared blankly at the sky, as if the heavens themselves had collapsed.
He was merely a borderland noble—far from powerful enough to ignore public opinion.
No—even dukes couldn't escape ruin once the Shadow Brotherhood set their sights on them.
What chance did a mere count have?
Count Philip had become the latest laughingstock.
Three days later—
Since the Shadow Brotherhood's strike, Count Philip hadn't left his manor. Not even his attendants had seen him.
His scandal had become the most popular gossip in town. Everywhere people went, they talked about it.
Adventurers who had once despised him now gleefully spread the jokes, even pooling their money to hire a bard to turn My Twenty-Six-Year-Old Noble Lord into a song—now the hottest tune in every tavern.
There was no doubt about it—this was personal now.
Since then, Philip had fallen completely silent. The guards lost their arrogance. Workers were no longer forced into the dungeon first. Even the planned ticket fees and taxes had been scrapped before they began.
Stranger still, miners began whispering about new monsters—serpentine beasts disguised as boulders, dragons dropping explosives from the sky…
Yet adventurers who went to investigate found nothing.
The monsters appeared suddenly, then vanished, as if the miners had simply dreamed them.
Though, there were rumors that one party had recently been killed by a falling bomb in the mid-levels—without ever seeing what had dropped it.
Meanwhile, in Val City—the neighboring city Philip had once schemed against—the people were outraged. Their lord issued a formal challenge to House Bedford, demanding vengeance!
Val even assembled a team of mages to bombard Bedford City's outskirts with magical artillery every day. No one was injured, but the psychological toll was immense.
Others who had been secretly wronged by Philip in the past now unleashed waves of curses and denunciations. Some hotheaded lords even marched their armies to the borders, threatening war.
Bedford was thrown into chaos. Even Sali was released from confinement to help the family put out the fires.
Throughout it all, Count Philip remained hidden away.
When people finally saw him again—seven days had passed.
Disheveled, pale, and hollow-eyed, his first words were:
"Seal off Sein Dungeon. No one is allowed to enter."