Chapter 179: For You

Running the trading company naturally brought me closer to all sorts of information, and I learned the value of silence. Even in the dim light, I could tell his senses had sharpened; his mood had certainly darkened.

He quickly turned his horse around.

“Where does this passage lead?”

“……Some lead inside the mansion, others to secluded spots somewhere within the territory.”

“Versatile.”

“It’s for escaping in case of emergency. A single path wouldn’t be very useful.”

“Where are you headed, Master?”

As my eyes adjusted to the dark, the path began to appear. Dan followed the hand on his sleeve, lifting his gaze. At the crossroads, Deon paused, touching his lips as if lost in thought, retracing his memories.

Finally finding his answer, he began leading Dan in one direction.

“Mansion. There’s someone I want to see.”

A puppet Family Head from a distant branch, set up by greedy retainers.

It didn’t make sense why someone he expected to flee first would remain here. Hadn’t he run away from the mansion after Deon had only given him a slight scare? That was probably why he was staying at this villa.

If he fled once, what would stop him from fleeing again?

Betrayal or free will—Deon wanted to see the Family Head’s face and understand the real reason, whatever it might be.

“And he’s an opponent I need to eliminate anyway.”

“That’s true… but are you really going with just the two of us? It could be dangerous.”

“You’ll protect me, won’t you?”

“Huh?”

“You’re quite skilled with a sword now, aren’t you?”

Dan looked down at Deon, who was walking ahead, a hint of surprise in his eyes. Even in the darkness, his striking white hair was clearly visible.

‘It’s true I’ve become skilled with a sword… but still.’

Considering he doesn’t trust me… what am I supposed to make of this confident remark?

It was almost comical, yet no laughter came. Instead, after a short silence, he slowly began to speak.

“I dislike you, Master.”

“I know.”

“I resent you deeply, and even hate you a little.”

“I know that too.”

“Knowing all that, you’re still entrusting your life to me? I know you don’t trust me.”

I wondered where he was going with this.

Deon chuckled.

“Not trust you? If I didn’t trust you in this way, I wouldn’t be here alone with you in the first place.”

……

“I know you won’t just stand by and watch me die.”

Deon was certain Dan wouldn’t kill him. More than that, he was sure Dan would try to protect him.

“In the future you envision, I’m bound to be at the center. How could you possibly ignore my death?”

……

“For you, I’m a tool to achieve your goals, and ‘the goal’ itself. Isn’t that right?”

The prophecy of being the harbinger of disaster, the vow to follow it, and Deon Hart—the ‘disaster’ himself.

By coming this far, Dan was already on an irreversible path. The only way forward was to keep going, so how could he let Deon Hart, his guiding light and landmark, die?

‘…….’

Dan tried to speak, but Deon cut him off.

His fingertips touched a hard wall. At the dead end, they’d arrived before he knew it, Deon put a finger to his lips and hissed softly.

“Shhh, we’re here.”

……

Dan fell silent as Deon reached up, feeling for the ceiling. Finding the exit wasn’t difficult.

If his memory served him right, this place connected to a hidden space behind the bookshelf in the office. A place for the busy Family Head who had to work even at the villa.

Now, all I have to do is push this up…

‘…Heavier than I expected.’

Who designed this thing anyway? At this rate, I’ll be trapped and die in here, never even making it back outside.

Swallowing his irritation, he nudged Dan and pointed at the exit. Quick to understand, Dan stepped forward and easily pushed it open. Annoyance surged at how easily it lifted, but that was nothing compared to what came next.

“Pfft.”

…Damn it.

Eyes narrowed, he glared at Dan. Dan just shrugged, then mimed lifting something heavy with both hands.

‘Need a hand?’

‘You little…!’

Seriously, I need to track down whoever designed this thing and give them a piece of my mind. Oh, wait, are they already dead?

He confidently grabbed the edge of the exit to pull himself up, but his arms just trembled, and he couldn’t lift his body at all. Finally, after struggling for a while, Deon hung there and jerked his chin sharply at Dan.

‘Haul me up.’

‘Yes, sir.’

The awkwardness from their earlier conversation about trust had already dissipated. Dan chuckled and approached him.

Deon’s eyes narrowed at that annoying sight.

‘No, wait, lie down.’

‘Pardon?’

‘Be my stepping stool.’

‘…….’

A moment later, Deon, looking strangely pleased, and Dan, sporting a shoe print in the middle of his back, stood side by side. After instructing Dan to carefully close the exit, Deon checked the bookshelf that filled his vision and smirked.

‘We’re in the right place.’

Where would that Family Head be? Probably in the office or bedroom. I figured we’d check the office first.

This bookshelf blocking our view should swing open if you press and push here. Just as I was about to head out, a voice drifted from behind the bookshelf.

“We can’t waste troops here. You, go out and guard the mansion!”

“But what about basic guards…?”

“Where I am now is the safest place in the territory, you know? Out, out!”

So, he’s changed strategy from defending the city walls to guarding the mansion. The territory’s residents must have evacuated according to the imperial decree.

True, the Demon King’s army hadn’t bothered with the city walls, and they probably wouldn’t bother fighting to drag out a nobody holed up in his mansion, so they were likely to just pass by…

‘Still, it’d be safer to run. Why would he stupidly stay behind?’

Even now. It’d be better to keep at least one guard nearby, but he’d dismissed them all, choosing to stay alone.

…Either way, there wouldn’t be a better opportunity than this.

He winked at Dan, signaling him, then pressed and pushed a section of the bookshelf. The bookshelf swung open, and Dan shot out silently, pressing a sword—drawn from who-knows-where behind the Family Head—to the guy’s neck.

…!

“Scream and you’re dead. Anyone who comes in here, same fate. If you want to live, you’d better play along.”

Even the threat was clean.

The guy’s mouth, which had gaped open as if to scream, snapped shut. Deon returned the bookshelf to its original position and leisurely walked around from behind the guy’s back to the desk, facing him.

The guy’s eyes widened as he recognized Deon.

“You…!”

“Shhh—easy now. Keep your voice down.”

“How did you get in here…?! No, just spare my life… please, just my life…”

“We’ll see. Depends on how you behave.”

He dragged a nearby chair over and sat down in front of the guy’s desk.

Shedding the tense demeanor he always wore in the Demon Realm, Deon leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, and tilted his head as he spoke.

“Just a bit of personal curiosity, you see.”

……

“Why didn’t you run? Judging by how you’re only focused on defending the mansion, it seems your troops are stretched thin, and the territory looks deserted.”

……

“Answer me.”

As if to urge him, Dan pressed the sword closer. The blade pricked his neck, and blood slowly started to well up. Only then, seeming to grasp the threat, did a hurried answer come.

“I, I lost the Family Head’s seal.”

……

“…I lost it.”

Not that that’s why I was silent. But hey, if he’s going to be docile, all the better for me.

More than that, it’s a relief he doesn’t have some other motive… though, really, what an idiot.

“Just for that? You could’ve fled first and looked for it later.”

“Easy for you to say, but it’s everything to me…!”

“Your voice.”

“…All I have left is this position. Without it, I won’t even be recognized as a nominal Family Head.”

That measly seal is more important than his life, so he stayed.

Deon touched his lips thoughtfully.

“…So the retainers don’t know about this.”

“Yes, I told them I’d follow later, so they wouldn’t suspect anything. Given the urgency, they didn’t question it and fled as if they’d been waiting for the chance.”

“Hmm… good.”

The troops left here were hardly a threat—barely enough to defend the mansion. Insignificant troops you could ignore and pass by without a second thought.

And the Family Head before him was a nobody not even worth killing. Deon rose from his chair and smirked.

“I’ll let you live.”

!

Didn’t see any need to bother with him.

After all, if the Empire falls, the Family Head’s seal he’s so desperate for will be useless anyway. Besides, even if he had his reasons, staying behind instead of running deserves some credit.

Deon narrowed his eyes at the guy staring blankly up at him.

“We’re just passing through, not staying. So don’t try anything funny, just shut up and sit tight.”

He’d have to deal with the stigma of being a Family Head still alive in a territory the demons passed through—bound to raise suspicions.

He turned away, cold and detached.

“Now, close your eyes for one minute.”

“?”

“Open them before then, and you’re dead.”

!

Seeing the guy jolt in surprise and squeeze his eyes shut, Deon glanced at Dan.

‘Let’s go.’

‘Yes.’

The puppet Family Head from a distant branch, who hadn’t properly learned a thing, wouldn’t notice their movements as they intentionally muffled their presence. So, the Family Head, dutifully counting and keeping his eyes shut, suddenly paused at a question that flickered through his mind.

‘Deon Hart… did he always look like that?’

He seemed even more irritatingly handsome than before.

***

“As expected, Sir Deon…! You personally opened the city gates!”

“He just strolled out, opened the city gates, and strolled back!”

“Amazing!”

“Wait, Dan, was it? Human, why do you have footprints on your back?”

……

“Alright, everyone, that’s enough, let’s move out. We’re not staying here, so no dawdling or wandering off. Anyone who falls behind will be considered a deserter.”

***

The King of Sanguo called in. Nothing new about that.

– What in the world are you thinking!?

It was about time he figured it out. Or, rather, how could he not have?

Even as the loud voice echoed through the room, the Emperor remained unfazed, languidly lowering his golden eyes.

“I had something to tell you anyway, so I’m glad you contacted me first.”

His overly calm demeanor. Sensing something amiss, the person on the other end of the communication stone fell silent. The Emperor gently rubbed his left knuckles, which had been healing for some time now, with his fingertips as he spoke.

A voice as peaceful as spring sunlight flowed out.

“Eudoardo Deserte hereby announces the termination of the alliance with Sanguo.”

– …!”

“From this moment on, as long as I live.”

– …….”

“Don’t concern yourself with the Empire’s actions.”

No need to snoop, and certainly don’t help the Empire.

The connection between the Empire—led by Emperor Eudoardo Deserte—and Sanguo ends here.

– What… no, wait a minute…”

You’re smart, so you’ve probably already guessed what this means. Even if not for sure, you’ve likely sensed it instinctively.

But whatever it is, I have no intention of listening. How much you’ve guessed or sensed is none of my concern. The Emperor slowly raised his hand and placed it on the communicator.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m busy, so I’ll end the call here.”

– Wait…!”

Click.

The communication was cut off abruptly. The Emperor, who had been leaning back against his chair, slowly straightened up.

Being busy wasn’t a lie. Even without calling a formal meeting, nobles were already flocking in, clamoring to see the Emperor.

‘I told them to wait in the meeting room, so that’s where they’ll be.’

What else would he have to say to suppress and persuade them? Just thinking about it, a thick weariness coiled around his ankles and pressed down on his head.

The palpable weight of it all was enough to make his head droop, but the Emperor lifted his head proudly, without a hint of bowing, and walked towards the meeting room where the nobles waited.