Chapter 48
Lucien’s confident smile froze in an instant.
His lips trembled faintly, and a panicked voice escaped between his clenched teeth.
“You two… what are you doing? Didn’t you agree to give me the magic stone?”
But despite Lucien’s words, the two men only averted their eyes and stood still.
At last, the smile vanished from Lucien’s face.
The lips that had been curled upward dropped sharply, and a flush of burning red—fueled by rage as much as humiliation—spread across his features.
Betrayed. They dared betray me.
Me, of all people… by worthless vermin like them?!
A thick vein bulged across Lucien’s once flawless forehead, pushing through his carefully combed golden hair. And then, with a snarl, he lunged at Emil.
“You wretch! A lowborn like you dares spit on the chance I granted you?!”
“Ugh—ahhh!”
He seized Emil by the collar with both hands and shook him violently. Emil’s head swung limply with the force, his eyes squeezing shut against the dizzying assault.
“You think you could ever be the aide to a grand duke?! You’re nothing but a useless peasant—”
“That’s enough.”
A large hand pried Lucien’s grip from Emil’s throat with effortless ease.
“The so-called ‘imperial opportunity’? Don’t make me laugh. You’re nothing more than a swindler preying on naïve souls, and now you dare to rage?”
Kyle snorted in open disgust and pulled Emil behind him, shielding him.
“Y-you…!”
“Your wife ran her mouth to mine. She shouldn’t have.”
Kyle’s eyes gleamed coldly as he stepped forward.
Lucien had a respectable frame himself, but against a former mercenary like Kyle, he was hopelessly outmatched. Forced to look up at a man a head taller, Lucien faltered, retreating a step.
But Kyle erased that space in an instant, closing the gap.
He leaned down, his shadowed face lit only by the sharp glint of his eyes.
Without blinking once, he bore into Lucien’s very soul.
“I’ve seen plenty of men like you before. Jackals chasing scraps of meat—latching here, latching there, wherever survival seems most convenient.”
His lips curled, revealing a flash of white teeth. It wasn’t a smile; it was the snarl of a beast about to bite.
“But you know something? In my mercenary band, there were no men like you. Because I killed them all.”
Lucien’s face drained to a deathly pallor.
Kyle watched him for a long moment, then straightened with a dry laugh.
Lucien finally drew a ragged gasp, staggering as if his legs had turned to water.
Kyle, back to his hearty self as if nothing had happened, clicked his tongue.
So much fear… over so little.
His low mutter was clearly audible to Emil. Crossing his arms, Kyle added with disdain,
“You claim to have a relative skilled in healing… perhaps that much is true. But whether he would agree to your request—that, I doubt.”
“Ghh…”
“If such a healer were willing to lend his hand to a pathetic man like you, he’d have done it long ago. A healer’s debt is owed to many, after all.”
Damn it. Damn it!
Lucien ground his teeth, forcing himself upright. Everything he had planned… ruined. How could he salvage this?
“Lucien Pismerrien.”
At that moment, Denok, who had quietly observed everything, finally spoke.
“Is this the political talent you boasted of?”
Lucien staggered as he turned to face him, searching desperately for some excuse, some escape. But Denok’s next words fell like a hammer.
“If so, I am disappointed. I must ask you to leave this place.”
“Your Highness, please, if you’ll just hear me out—!”
“Gerald. See him out.”
“Yes, Your Highness. This way, Sir Lucien. I’ll make sure you’re well escorted.”
Grinning ear to ear, Gerald slid his arms under Lucien’s and began to haul him away. Lucien struggled and twisted, but Gerald dragged him off effortlessly.
“Your Highnessss!”
Lucien’s wail echoed down the corridor until the sound was cut short. Vernon had shut the door.
Silence returned to the chamber.
Denok regarded the two men who remained.
“Now, it seems only the two of you remain.”
“…”
“…”
A heavy silence lingered. Emil glanced nervously at Kyle.
The truth was, Emil had never intended to hand the magic stone to Lucien in the first place.
Well… I did think about it. I thought about it a lot. But in the end, I didn’t.
Something about it just felt wrong.
To accept an opportunity with thanks one moment, only to abandon it the instant a “better” offer appeared?
That would make it far too easy to leave again, every time something brighter came along.
If I live like that… I won’t ever be able to give my heart fully to anyone.
Whether Lucien’s promises were true or not didn’t matter.
If what he said about the imperial administration was real, Emil could always apply after the trial ended.
At the very least, he wanted to finish what he had already started—without regret.
And just as he solidified that resolve, someone unexpected sought him out.
It was Kyle.
“Hey, Emil. That bastard Lucien didn’t fill your head with his nonsense, did he?”
Kyle’s fierce expression had startled Emil at first.
But it was kindness, really. He came to warn me, in case Lucien’s claws had reached me.
Of course, when Emil admitted what had happened, Kyle had erupted in fury.
“That damned cheat—doesn’t even know what fair play means…!”
“What’s wrong, Emil?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing, Chelsea!”
There had even been a brief commotion when Chelsea appeared, pale-faced at the door.
Still… he really is a good man.
While Emil quietly nurtured that sense of closeness, Kyle’s smile faded once more.
He stepped forward.
“This time… let me try.”
Denok watched the man limp toward him without a word.
The way he had revealed murderous intent, then so smoothly reined it back in—it left a lasting impression.
It was the aura of a man who had stepped countless times into battle and emerged bloodied but alive.
If Gerald’s sword was supple yet razor-sharp, Kyle’s style had always been more brutal, crushing foes beneath overwhelming force.
It was a pity that his injury meant that ferocity could no longer be unleashed so easily…
But his eye for men, his ability to read the flow of things—that still carried weight.
With a soft clatter, Kyle laid a magic stone on Denok’s desk.
The stone wobbled faintly as it settled, scattering blue light across the surface like reflections from the deepest sea.
“I’ve come to sell this to you, Your Grace.”
“And why should I buy it?”
Denok’s calm question drew a wide grin from Kyle—almost as if he had been waiting for exactly that line.
He raised three fingers.
“Three thousand gold.”
His voice rang steady and sure.
“For that price, I’ll make this domain the safest land in the Empire.”
