MFWSP 60

Chapter 60

“This man is no longer the Marquis. I hope you understand that, as the heir, I wish to spare your lives.”

As the knights began to stir, Tristan raised his hand again to halt them.

“What did you just say…?”

“Show us the ‘Eye of God.’”

Tristan ignored the agitated Marquis and spoke clearly.

“I heard through the communication stone that you successfully returned with the Spirit Tree’s fruit. I would like to see the document stating the transfer of the title.”

I took out the contract I had made with the Marquis and handed it to him.

An indescribable emotion flickered across his eyes as he read through the contents.

“I waited so long… I was working behind the scenes with the knights and servants, yet it always felt out of reach… And yet, it happened in just half a day.”

“Your behind-the-scenes efforts shouldn’t be dismissed so lightly.”

I stepped back from the knights as I spoke.

“Seeing them follow your command at this moment proves that.”

“They’re still deciding. Trying to figure out where the true authority lies. Which means we should act quickly.”

Tristan chuckled wearily.

“With my father’s seal, the requirements for succession are met.”

He turned and looked toward Karsiel.

“And with a royal present, I now request official recognition of the title.”

Tristan knelt on one knee before Karsiel.

“I, Tristan Adellon, will inherit the title of Marquis, and until I return to the arms of God, I will do my duty to enrich the Empire.”

“The Imperial House grants this request.”

A broad smile spread across Tristan’s face. I silently admired his judgment.

Though informal, the declaration he just recited was the ancient form of a succession oath, rarely seen anymore.

By invoking that unnecessary tradition, he made a bold statement to the knights—showing them who now held the true power in the family.

“Karsiel Parnassus, First Prince of the Empire, commands in the name of the Imperial House: There is no other master of House Adellon but you.”

Karsiel spoke with weight behind his words, as if understanding Tristan’s intent.

“Your will is now Adellon’s will.”

One by one, the knights’ expressions began to shift.

Of course they were conflicted.

Karsiel was a war hero revered by most of the Empire’s knights. As the First Prince, he was someone they could hardly defy.

Though trained to obey their master, the question of who the true master was clouded their judgment.

Some of the knights slowly turned their eyes toward the Marquis.

“…What are you doing?”

The Marquis asked sharply.

“Are you questioning me? You lowly insects?”

“My lord Marquis, please show us the Eye of God.”

Sir Dean stepped forward on behalf of the knights.

“Is it true that you agreed to pass on the title?”

“…”

“If not, then why are the young lord and Third Young Master standing against you?”

“How dare you! Who are you to question me like that?!”

The Marquis’s eyes bulged in disbelief.

“As the young lord said, we risk our lives to carry out your commands! But to kill His Highness the Prince and a Duke?!”

Sir Dean shouted, clearly frustrated.

“If you’re demanding our lives, at least give us an explanation we can understand!”

“Silence! This is my land! I need no explanation to use what belongs to me!”

The Marquis shouted in fury.

But that outburst was a mistake.

Disappointment flashed across the knights’ faces, including Dean’s, and all of them turned to the young lord—as if they had agreed in advance.

“…Knights deserve a lord who values them.”

Dean said with a bitter look.

“We are knights of House Adellon.”

He declared calmly.

“From this moment, all Adellon knights present here will follow the orders of the new head of the house, Lord Tristan.”

Veins popped on the Marquis’s forehead, while a triumphant smile spread on Tristan’s lips.

The knights remained still, united in their decision.

“I see. Very well.”

Tristan said.

He stood up from his kneeling position before Karsiel and turned to the knights.

“As my first command as Marquis—!”

He shouted.

“No one here is to be harmed! Even reaching for your swords will be considered treason!”

“We obey your command!”

Those who had gripped their swords slowly released their hold.

Their gazes now followed only Tristan, leaving the Marquis behind.

“Nonsense!”

The former Marquis—no, the deposed Marquis—shouted in rage, trembling with fury.

“To say such drivel with me standing right here—urk!”

Before he could finish, Tristan’s hand clamped around his throat.

“I’ve waited so long for this moment.”

He murmured coldly, staring into the widened eyes of his father.

“You should’ve let go of your greed. Now, in your old age, you meet a miserable end.”

“Kuheeeurk…!”

Tristan’s grip tightened, veins bulging on his hand.

The Marquis choked and sputtered several times before collapsing, foam at his lips.

“Take him to his room. And send that one back home.”

Tristan gestured to the fallen Marquis and the still-trembling Nekal, giving orders to the knights.

“Give them food. But they are not to leave the room. As long as they breathe, they’ll see nothing but the walls and ceiling of their chamber.”

“We obey the Marquis’s command!”

The knights responded swiftly, as if they’d never been confused about who to follow, and dragged the two men away.

“…Will you investigate this?”

Once the sound of footsteps faded, Tristan turned to Karsiel and asked.

“You’re asking me?”

“As the First Prince present at the scene, whether or not to investigate is up to you.”

Tristan said bluntly.

“The Marquis tried to assassinate a royal, a duke, and his own son… Certainly a first in the Empire’s history.”

Karsiel responded slowly.

“On top of that, he used a long-forbidden form of magic. It would be justified for him to lose his title.”

Tristan swallowed nervously at that.

“But the spell is already broken, and accusing the victims now seems unnecessary. Letting you handle his punishment might be simpler.”

“Then… you’ll let it go? House Adellon will be allowed to survive?”

Hope flickered in Tristan’s eyes.

Despite living under a wretched father, it seemed he still dreamed of leading the house properly.

“What do you want to do?”

Karsiel turned suddenly to me.

“You’re giving me the choice?”

I tilted my head.

“All of this was your doing. From the moment you made that bet, you must’ve envisioned this outcome.”

Karsiel said, as if reading my thoughts perfectly.

“It’d be foolish for me to dictate the ending after following your lead the whole time.”

He crossed his arms and chuckled.

“You have full authority. Do whatever you want—destroy the house or preserve it. No one here will object.”

A smile slowly spread on my lips. Not because the issue was resolved, but because he trusted me.

Karsiel had compassion for the downtrodden, respect for warriors, love for the Empire’s people, and manners for nearly everyone he met.

But earning his trust was no easy feat.

Even Grace, in her second life, had never fully gained it.

I glanced at David, who simply shrugged as if it had nothing to do with him.

“It’s up to the Marquis.”

I finally said to Tristan.

“The son of Adellon must accept the result of the bet. If you want your house to survive, keep the contract. The second condition hasn’t been fulfilled yet.”

“The second condition…”

Tristan narrowed his eyes, recalling the contract he had reviewed earlier.

“You mean opening the house to His Highness Karsiel.”

He chuckled softly.

“That’s all? I was prepared to offer half the domain.”

Without hesitation, Tristan approached Karsiel and kissed the back of his hand.

“As long as we both live, House Adellon will stand with you. The Duke and David are my witnesses.”

Then he stepped back and added,

“Whatever assistance you need, just say the word. Our fate is tied together now. Betrayal is not an option.”

“I’ll remember that.”

Karsiel smiled and turned to me again.

“It’s over. Unless there’s something else, let’s get changed. It would cause unwanted rumors if Lady Apellemion walked into the banquet hall in a strange man’s clothes.”

He said.

“There are still several days left of the banquet. If you allow, I’d like to escort you there.”

“I allow it.”

After replying, I turned to look at David.

He was staring into space with a dazed expression.

“David?”

“…Sorry. It just feels strange.”

He scratched his head and answered.

“What does?”

“I’m not used to freedom. Unlike my brother, I had no plan for what to do once Father was gone.”

He said, absentmindedly touching his wrist.

“Even when he wasn’t around, it felt natural to act as he wanted…”