IBRIP l CH 80

Chapter 80 

No one knows exactly how Yudis killed Oscar. The original novel was told from Winter’s point of view.

But one thing is certain—if the relationship between Boris and Oscar isn’t fixed, there will be terrible bloodshed one day.

“If both of you are meant to serve me in the future, how can you already hate each other this much?”

The Emperor, who had been silently watching the chaos, finally stepped in to calm things down.

Only then did Boris and Oscar fall quiet and lower their eyes.

The Emperor’s expression turned serious. He could see that their hatred ran deep.

“I suppose it’s good I found out now…”

Then the Emperor looked at them and asked,

“Tell me what happened. Why do you two hate each other so much?”

Neither of them answered.

But Boris’s face had turned pale—clearly, he was the one at fault.

“Your Majesty, they’re still young boys. It’s not uncommon for boys at this age to fight,” Lord Radd tried to step in.

But the Emperor raised a hand to stop him.

“It seems both of them have forgotten the weight of their family names. If you don’t want this to turn into a family issue, then speak now.”

“…Because of Boris Rohia, the dog I had raised since birth died.”

Oscar was the first to speak.

He calmly asked the knights holding him to let go and straightened his clothes.

Then he knelt before the Emperor.

“Your Majesty, I deeply apologize for my behavior. But I beg you—please grant me one chance.”

Oscar looked up at the Emperor with eyes full of controlled anger.

“I want an official duel with Lord Boris. If I lose, I will never speak of this again. I want to settle this with my sword, as a true knight should.”

“If you win, will you ask to break his legs?”

“…No. I won’t. I swear on my name that I will be satisfied just by winning.”

His voice was serious. The Emperor turned to Boris, who looked like a guilty criminal, and asked,

“You heard him, Lord Boris. Do you accept it?”

Boris also pushed the knights away, slowly knelt, and said,

“Yes, Your Majesty. I accept Lord Oscar Tradi’s duel request.”

“…Very well.”

The Emperor looked at both of them and finally nodded.

“I will oversee the duel myself. If you both call yourselves knights, then prove it.”

His voice turned cold.

“I expect you to accept the outcome.”

In the original story, fate had already been written.

Maybe fate can’t be changed so easily after all.

In the end, they still ended up fighting.

My fingers felt cold.

Boris left for overseas studies after securing his position as heir—because of Oscar.

I had to stop this.

To protect the Tradi family from disappearing.

And also to stop Joseph from taking over the Rohia family while Boris was away.

***

My first tag game at the Imperial Palace ended in a complete mess.

Their duel was set for five days later—to give them time for their bruises to heal and prepare without excuses.

“Izana, I’m sorry. I ruined the game that was meant for you.”

“You did, yeah… but since you lost a dog you loved, I forgive you.”

To cheer Oscar up, I took him for a walk in the garden.

“Can you tell me more about what happened? Is that why you called Boris a monster?”

Oscar clenched and opened his hands, unable to calm his emotions just thinking about it.

He looked like he was unsure whether he should tell me.

“Oscar, I really want to know. If you don’t tell me, I’ll have to ask Boris myself.”

At that, Oscar quickly waved his hands.

“Alright, fine. Just don’t ask him. I’m afraid he might hurt you.”

Oscar sighed deeply.

Then, as he ran his fingers over his teacup, he began.

“…The Earl of Bluebell and my grandfather often had me, Joseph, and Boris spend time together. I’ll admit it—back then, we weren’t on bad terms. Actually, I got along better with Boris than with Joseph. We both liked swords, while Joseph preferred books.”

Oscar stared at his hands like he was forcing himself to stay calm.

“…Everything started when we decided to build a doghouse for Love, the dog I had raised since I was born. We spent three whole days building it. We cut wood, made planks, hammered nails—everything ourselves.”

He smiled faintly, remembering that time.

Then he placed his right hand on the table and showed me his palm.

“See this scar? I got it from hammering nails. I worked so hard. I wanted to give it to Love as a birthday gift.”

The scar looked deep and clearly old.

“But in the end, the house was too small for Love. I guess we were too inexperienced. I got a little frustrated and joked at Love, asking why he got so big.”

Oscar’s voice was full of regret now. His eyes were red as he whispered,

“But the next morning, Love could fit inside.”

Oh no. Please don’t say it…

“His legs were all broken. Boris did it. He broke all of them.”

…Boris broke a dog’s legs? Like some kind of psychopath?

Yes, Boris was rude. Based on how he treated me, he was clearly a jerk.

But… something felt off.

“Are you sure Boris did it?”

I muttered, trying to figure out what I was remembering. Oscar nodded firmly.

“He told me this himself.”

‘Didn’t you complain that Love was too big to fit in the house? I fixed it. Why are you crying?’

***

Oscar’s voice trembled.

“Our families settled it quietly. They said a noble family couldn’t fall apart over an animal.”

“…”

“Love never walked again. He just lay there crying. My father said… it was kinder to let him go.”

Oscar’s tears finally fell, and I could see how much he hated Boris.

“Love loved running in the fields with me. He could even smile—I knew all his expressions. I could tell when he was happy.”

Wait. Wait a second… I’m remembering something.

“So… I did it. I let him go with my own hands. My father offered, but I said I’d do it. He loved me the most.”

“…”

“I’ll never forgive Boris Rohia. That guy’s insane. Don’t ever trust him. The Earl of Bluebell said he was just immature and promised to teach him better, but look at him now.”

Ah. I remembered.

“I’m not going to cut off your legs just to make you fit in that bag. I don’t like unnecessary blood.”

“Oscar… you’re right. Boris is awful. But…”

“In my experience, once your legs are broken, they fold any way you want—backwards too. Same for people, I’d guess.”

“Bluebell failed. That guy’s a monster. Don’t go near him.”

Oh, my sweet potato…

“Oscar…”

I opened my mouth but closed it again.

Oscar was mostly right.

But one key part was wrong.

That psychopath wasn’t Boris.

It was Joseph Rohia.

And the Earl of Bluebell had kept his promise.

He saw the danger in Joseph and worked hard to make him “normal.”

And I had to admit—he did a great job.

So well, in fact, that no one noticed…

That the monster wore a mask and grew up hiding under angel wings.