Chapter 119: Repaying a Debt
- Reira ☾⋆⁺₊✧ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
- Dec 19, 2025
- 8 min read
“Perhaps in the past, but the current Duke Melta is not someone Your Majesty needs to concern yourself with.”
“Too many nobles follow Duke Melta to simply ignore him. It wouldn’t be wrong to keep an eye on him.”
“That is precisely why there is nothing more to see. Old men are only preoccupied with protecting what is theirs.”
Marquis Mandalin chuckled and tilted his wine glass.
Each time he swirled the glass, the wine inside sloshed, producing a clear, ringing sound.
The wine in the glass was a deep red, like blood.
“Rather than speaking of a toothless tiger, might we turn to another matter? Would that not be far more beneficial?”
“Something else?”
“I mean matters concerning Your Majesty’s marriage.”
“That matter again?”
“Marriage is an important matter, after all.”
‘What matters is your power.’
Zerpheus muttered to himself as he looked into the eager eyes of Marquis Mandalin.
Marquis Mandalin siding with Zerpheus was not out of genuine support.
He knew full well that the Emperor, who couldn’t refuse his proposals, was the one whom he could sell off his flawed younger sister for the highest price.
“If we can't hold this position, even that important marriage will be meaningless.”
“Do not worry. No matter what happens, I will protect Your Majesty.”
Zerpheus let out a small chuckle as he watched the Marquis Mandalin thumping his chest for show.
Marquis Mandalin was one of the many fools in the capital whose thoughts were completely transparent.
He would mouth ‘Your Majesty’ with feigned deference, yet his gaze betrayed a mix of contempt and condescension for the half-barbarian Emperor.
'As expected, they’ll need to be dealt with too.'
Zerpheus sipped his wine as he looked at the nobles filling the banquet hall.
Ever since ascending the throne, he had kept an eye out for anyone who might be capable, but they were all the same.
They were no different from Marquis Mandalin and were nothing more than dogs of power.
They were nothing more and nothing less than tools to be used and discarded.
・・・・・
“Making something like this… the Emperor, is he out of his mind?”
Fenrir let out a sharp shout and swung his sword.
Even as one of their arms was severed and they screamed, the test subjects charged blindly at the enemy. They wore only human skin on the outside, but inside, they were like beasts without reason.
“Stop talking nonsense and focus.”
Berbe, back-to-back with Fenrir, frowned as she blocked the test subject’s attack.
There weren’t many of them, but the test subjects, relentlessly charging and unafraid of death, were exhausting to deal with.
“Don’t tell me you can’t even handle something like this.”
With a sharp, tearing sound, the neck of one test subject was cleanly severed.
Fenrir adjusted his stance and quickly stepped back to avoid the falling corpse.
“Whether it’s the head or the heart, you have to end their life in one blow. Otherwise—ugh!”
“Look who is talking.”
Berbe, who had cut down the attacking test subject in Fenrir’s place, openly clicked her tongue.
“How am I supposed to predict the attack of something that charges in even while cutting down its own comrade?”
Even in death, they stabbed straight through their own comrade’s body to attack the enemy.
Fenrir frowned as he looked at the soldiers’ bodies scattered across the ground.
If only they had felt no pain, but the faces of the dead were all twisted in agony.
“What a horrific sight.”
“You are making a rather obvious observation.”
Berbe sheathed her sword after dealing with the last remaining test subject.
Her body was drenched in sweat and blood from the long battle.
“You’re too cold-hearted.”
“The Young Master is far too frivolous.”
“To call your Young Master frivolous…”
"If you do not wish to hear me call you frivolous, then become the chief lord. That would make you more trustworthy to entrust my safety to than the position of Young Master, which could be lost at any moment."
Berbe replied calmly and crouched down to check the condition of the dead test subject.
“Unlike before, the body is not conditioned anymore.”
“Rather than being suited for fighting, the body is only accustomed to ordinary physical labour.”
"So, it is a civilian."
Berbe’s hand, rummaging through the corpses, came to a stop.
Among the test subjects, there were also elderly people.
“That’s what’s terrifying. They turned people who probably only ever wielded farm tools into fighting monsters.”
“In that case, if it were possible to endlessly make beings in this state…"
“They would become the strongest army.”
“…I wonder how far their experiments have progressed.”
Berbe’s expression darkened.
Just imagining the monsters from a moment ago charging together made her feel uneasy.
“If they can reveal this much, I suppose it can be considered complete.”
“Do you think the Grand Duke of Schwarhan can win this battle?”
“Of course, he has to win. If not, it’s over for us too. Realistically, the only one with forces capable of matching the Empire right now is the Grand Duke of Schwarhan. Moreover, there’s no way the Emperor, who despises Roaquin, would accept us.”
Fenrir shrugged lightly, but his expression wasn’t exactly bright.
The more he uncovered the shadows the Empire had been hiding, the more depressed he became.
This land was far more tangled than he had imagined.
“If things were going to turn out like this, it might have been better to keep a low profile in Roaquin for a little longer.”
Berbe got up from her spot and lightly stretched.
For someone making such a weak statement, her eyes glinted sharply like a predator waiting to hunt.
“Still, thanks to that, we get to enjoy the fresh air like this for the first time in a long while.”
“To be precise, it is thanks to Young Master’s personal interest.”
“Personal interest?”
Fenrir frowned.
“This was not the original plan, was it?”
“Plans change easily, and more than anything, no matter how unfilial I may be, slitting the throat of the person who raised me with my own hands is a bit much.”
“It was Young Master who brought up going to Schwarhan to take care of the Elder. You even said it could be handled quietly in a foreign land.”
Berbe nodded without any expression.
“It can’t be helped. I may like the Elder, but a leader can’t afford to be like that."
“That is why I follow Young Master.”
“Because of that?”
“After all, Young Master is someone whose reason comes before emotion.”
“Somehow, it sounds like you’re telling me not to think about anything else.”
Fenrir laughed playfully.
“I am not saying you should not do it, but if you are going to do it, do it properly. Is that not Young Master’s specialty?"
“What’s my specialty?”
“Smiling as you order others to drive the knife in.”
“Isn’t that a bit too harsh an assessment?”
Fenrir pouted, but Berbe continued with the next words calmly, without any change in expression.
“That is why I follow Young Master. The Young Master I know is someone who makes others pick up the knife and wield it."
"..."
“If Young Master wants something, make a plan to get it. I will act according to that plan and bring back whatever Young Master desires.”
“That’s the exact opposite of what the Elder would say.”
“Cher, that Elder is the sort of person who deludes himself into thinking he is the chief lord. Using the excuse of acting for Roaquin’s sake, he clouded the chief lord’s judgment and even set his sights on the bloodline itself. Is that not ultimately why Young Master was raised in his hands?”
For a brief moment, a rare change of expression crossed Berbe’s face, which usually showed nothing but disgust.
Cher had always acted as if he were an exceptionally loyal retainer, but he, too, was one of the vassals who had threatened the chief lord’s household.
Everyone knew why Cher had demanded the chief lord’s young son; they just said nothing out of fear of him.
“I am not blindly devoted to Young Master, but I respect your will. If you give a reason I can understand, I will follow it without question.”
“That sounds like you’d go along with even a mad scheme, as long as the reason is convincing.”
“It might be difficult to give a reason that would satisfy me, but I could perhaps overlook a passionate little love game once.”
“What a sweet temptation.”
“If Young Master’s first love comes to fruition, wouldn't that tiresome drinking habit finally come to an end?”
Fenrir’s first love was a story anyone close to him had heard at least once.
He seemed to think he hid it well, but whenever Fenrir drank, he would grab someone nearby and bawl, telling stories of the past.
Having endured such difficult years, there was at least the generosity to let him live, if only once, not as the young master, but as a man.
“So when are you going to do it?”
“Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t really intend to act on it.”
“Is it because of your position as the young master?”
“It’s more that the woman doesn’t like me.”
“So you lack charm, Young Master.”
“Lack charm? Me? I’m an amazing catch for a husband!”
Fenrir snapped back instinctively.
“So what does that matter? You are a man who cannot even win the heart of the woman you like.”
“What can I do if she already has a man she likes?”
“If Young Master were more attractive, you could have won her over, could you not?”
“No. I can’t do that.”
“As expected, Young Master, your charm is…”
“No, it’s not that. I won’t let her make that kind of expression.”
Fenrir lowered his head deeply.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t hoped for it.
He was no longer a powerless child, but a proper adult, fully capable of expressing his feelings. Moreover, feelings that had lasted a long time were especially effective at stirring the heart.
He knew that if he revealed how long he had harboured his feelings, the way she looked at him would change.
But when he was actually in front of her, he couldn’t say a word.
The moment he saw her face looking at another man, he instinctively realised it.
There was no place for him there.
“If you planned to give up, then why did you step forward? No matter how I think about it, it does not seem like you are merely after what the Grand Duke of Schwarhan is offering.”
“It’s nothing grand. I just… wanted to do something for her.”
“…What?”
“Back then, I ran away even when I saw Princess Neustein being bullied. I felt sorry for her, but honestly, I was scared.”
The child was quick to catch on.
Though he carried the title of the chief lord’s son, he knew better than anyone that his situation was no different from a hostage’s.
So he ran away.
He didn’t want to get needlessly caught up in trouble and suffer.
“But she was holding a kitten. Even though she was being bullied too, she held onto it until the very end. It was truly admirable, and it made me feel ashamed of myself.”
"..."
“Ever since I saw that, I wanted to become stronger. I wanted to have the strength to protect her the next time. But that’s not how it works. ‘Next time’ only matters if a next time actually comes.”
"..."
“That’s why I failed. Because I kept putting it off. And by the time I acted, it was already too late.”
Fenrir let out a small, bitter laugh.
He had always been late, waiting for a better opportunity, but not this time.
“So, this isn’t really about affection. It’s about repaying a debt, the debt I owe to the child who made me who I am today.”
“That’s certainly a better approach.”
“No matter what, isn’t it a bit much to talk down to me?”
“That was not something I said.”
Berbe gestured upward with her chin, wearing a look of disdain.
On the towering cliff above, a familiar face came into view.
“…Your Highness, Grand Duke of Schwarhan?”
“It’s been a long time.”
Cabelenus casually tossed his wind-fluttering cloak over his shoulders.
Watching that, Berbe quietly moved next to Fenrir and whispered in a soft voice.
“Indeed, Young Master, you do fall short.”
“Berbe.”
“The truth has always been bitter.”
Paying no mind to Fenrir’s complaints, Berbe simply nodded with utmost seriousness.
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