The Terminally Ill Young Master is the Mad Dog of the Underworld-Chapter 203

[Translator - Pot ]

[Proofreader - Kawaii ]

Chapter 203: The Eve of the Blood Crisis

In truth, what was there to say between Skella and me? We simply crossed through Grunewald Castle in silence.

Swoosh...

Chirp chirp.

The sound of waves and the sad chirping of night insects filled the air completely. Because of this, despite our terrible silence, our surroundings were not completely quiet.

"...You're impressive, young lord."

Skella, who had been quiet all along, spoke when we were about halfway through our journey.

"Impressive?"

I asked.

"Isn't that the same for both of us?"

I looked into Skella's transparent, red glass-like eyes. It was as if the cups of her eyes were filled with blood or wine.

'Even seeing her up close, it's difficult to gauge her level.'

Is she stronger than me? Maybe.

But the fact that I couldn't read her skills at all was likely due to the assassination techniques passed down in the Recrusa clan.

"...Why are you staring so intently?"

Skella asked.

"Pardon me. The color of your eyes is fascinating."

"A vampire's eyes shouldn't be beautiful enough to admire."

"Is that so?"

I pointed to my own eyes and questioned.

"Whether they're blue eyes or red eyes, does it really matter?"

"It does matter."

"Why?"

"Because they're the ominous eyes that symbolize vampires."

"I don't particularly think of them that way."

"..."

Skella quietly turned her gaze away.

"By the way—"

Was she trying to change the subject? I found it quite interesting how she spoke even while suppressing her emotions.

"It's the first time I've seen Lord Verdzig so agitated."

"Same here. Honestly, I was taken aback."

"...Perhaps only you could make that possible."

"That's not it."

I shook my head.

"It's precisely because of Father."

Just as with me and my father, it seemed that Verdzig and my father's relationship was also intricately intertwined.

"Skella."

She turned her head toward me.

"Aren't the shackles binding you uncomfortable?"

"..."

Skella looked at me with emotionless eyes, her thoughts unreadable, then asked:

"Are you mocking me?"

"Why would I?"

I waved my hands in denial.

"Not everyone plants thorns in their words like my brother."

"..."

Skella remained quiet for a moment, then nodded slightly.

"Indeed, that could be the case."

Could be the case? That was another curious response.

'Hmm.'

I thought about the two brothers of Svaltalfar and Skella side by side.

'Born with the fate of an assassin and raised as one.'

Assassin.

What is an assassin? They are those who make taking others' lives their profession. They kill their emotions and hone their skills. All for the sake of killing others.

The problem is that this isn't the life they chose.

'But it's not a life they can refuse either.'

If I, Karzan—

Or if Allenvert had grown up in such an environment and developed those talents, what would have happened?

'Could I have lived a different life than Skella?'

Well, Karzan was originally a troublemaker, so maybe he would have gone astray like Ghir.

'Or perhaps I would have led like-minded clan members to independence?'

However, Allenvert is a much kinder person than me, so he likely would have conformed to his given destiny and become like Skella.

Thinking about this gave me quite a strange feeling.

"Is it distasteful that if you abandon your shackles, not only you but your clan will die? Skella."

At those words, Skella tilted her head sideways and fell silent.

She's the type who thinks a lot before answering, this Skella.

"I suppose so."

Another peculiar answer.

"Does your heart burst and kill you? Or does your brain turn to mush?"

"You have strange interests."

"Contract magic, in my opinion, is magic created for sinister people who enjoy controlling humans."

I said.

"For those who don't trust people, those with paranoia who feel at ease only when binding humans with shackles, contracts, and schemes. That's what contract magic was created for, I'd imagine."

"..."

Skella asked with confusion.

"Can you trust people without such measures, young lord?"

"Of course."

Karzan has never made contracts with anyone. We simply shared our hearts and exchanged formless favors.

"Following our hearts, freely. Relationships between people, loyalty—they should simply be connected that way."

"Freedom."

The vampire murmured the word most distant from herself.

"What is freedom?"

"Freedom is..."

I briefly looked at the sea stretching along the coastline, then turned my gaze back to the scenery of Grunewald city with its ever-burning lights and the sailing ships resting in the harbor.

"Look at that view, Skella. What emotions does it evoke?"

"I wonder."

A dry answer came back.

"To watch if you want to watch, to walk if you want to walk, to lie down and sleep if you feel lazy. That, in fact, is freedom."

I continued, ignoring her response.

"When no one criticizes those choices, and I don't have to be conscious of anyone's reactions but can naturally choose for myself. To be able to leave the narrow room that surrounds me whenever I want, without feeling suffocated. That's what freedom is."

I turned to look at Skella.

"Isn't freedom not so grandiose a thing?"

"Then are you free, young lord?"

"Of course but the circumstances surrounding me are restrictive."

I answered.

"The moment I leave this castle as I please, there would be an uproar. The royal guard would make a fuss about escorting me. My vassals would give me a lecture."

But.

"If I want to do it, I can. Who would punish me? I'd have to bear the annoying consequences, but that's for later. Thinking that way, my mind doesn't feel particularly confined."

"..."

I couldn't tell what Skella was thinking.

"Young lord."

She opened her mouth.

"Speak."

"You've learned the art of concealment."

"...You know it well."

"I've been watching."

Then Skella said something unexpected.

"Although it may be inadequate, may I offer you a subtle advice on concealment?"

"...Refusing teachings is not the way of a warrior."

Perhaps this was her way of returning the favor? I didn't decline.

"The virtue of an assassin lies in immobility—in not moving."

However, Skella continued.

"But if I am among moving things, then I too must move to blend in naturally."

"...I suppose so."

"In other words, rather than making the surroundings adjust to me, I adjust myself to the surroundings. Killing the self and dissolving into the landscape. With such a mindset, one might reach 'the pinnacle of secrecy.'"

I pondered Skella's advice, recalling the principles of Whispering Snow in the Night and the abilities of the "Dark Star."

"Thank you, Skella. That was helpful."

"...!"

Skella widened her red eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"I was just thinking about when I last heard such words."

"..."

How pitiful.

But I didn't voice that thought.

"We've arrived."

I stopped in front of the annex and turned to Skella.

"Will you be watching me again?"

"Are you going to the underworld directly?"

"I'd like to, but..."

Today, I had already met my father, taken a short nap, and then met Verdzig.

In short, I was damn tired. Anyway, the task I'd assigned to Nagan and Zizek wasn't something that could be resolved in just one day.

"I plan to get a good night's sleep and go tomorrow night."

Skella nodded.

"Both tonight and tomorrow, I'll be watching over the night of Grunewald."

"I see. Watch carefully then."

My father's tacit approval and Verdzig's passive observation—having obtained everything I wanted, there were no more obstacles for me.

'Huten, wait for me.'

And make sure to cherish tomorrow's dawn well. For it will be your last morning.

***

Nagan, the man who came to lead half of the divided Bisakino Brotherhood.

Following Karzan's advice, he quickly filled the void left by Huten's disappearance.

"Half of the organization members armed themselves and declared non-intervention. Two-tenths refused to answer and remained silent, and the remaining three-tenths requested surrender."

Nagan nodded.

"Those who stayed silent are probably waiting for Huten's directive."

While Allenvert was meeting with the Duke and negotiating with Verdzig—

Nagan assessed the trends within the subordinate organizations and confirmed where they were aligning themselves.

"Three-tenths, hmm, three-tenths."

Those who surrendered and sided with Nagan fell far short of a majority. To put it simply—

"It means they fear Huten more than me."

"...Even the godfather couldn't handle him, so I guess that's what they're afraid of."

The godfather had strength befitting his position.

In comparison, Nagan's martial prowess, still young and lacking in experience, was certainly insufficient.

'Without the help of Karzan and Zizek, the organization would have likely fallen into Huten's hands.'

That obvious fact must have been clear to them.

"I suffer such humiliation because my skills are still lacking."

Nagan chuckled.

"Visit those who have surrendered and secure a firm oath from them. Then we'll attack those who declared neutrality but seem suspicious, as well as those who didn't respond."

He couldn't allow them to become Huten's reinforcements intact. Therefore, Nagan intended to cut off Huten's limbs through a lightning midnight raid.

"Let's move."

"Yes, sir."

"And send people to the other godfathers to confirm their intentions."

"Understood."

.

.

.

At dawn that day.

No less than seven subordinate organizations of the Bisakino Brotherhood were attacked.

However.

"It's the same here too. All the high-ranking officials have disappeared."

Only lower-ranking officials and organization members were left behind, and upon being attacked, they immediately threw down their weapons and surrendered.

"Did he take only the useful ones? Leaving behind those who wouldn't be battle-worthy?"

"Perhaps he's planning to feed that strange liquid to those with combat capability and turn them into berserkers."

"That fuckface."

Nagan clicked his tongue at Huten's cold-heartedness, who saw his subordinates in the organization merely as chess pieces.

"This bastard, what the hell is he thinking?"

An enemy whose intentions couldn't be understood... he never knew it could be so unsettling and frightening.

Nagan unconsciously thought of one man's face.

'Karzan.'

It was frustrating, but he felt that without Karzan's help, he could never handle Huten.

Nevertheless, he didn't show even a hint of fear in his expression. That was the virtue of a leader heading an organization.

"Let's go back. Only chaff remains anyway."

No matter how many soldiers there were, it was ultimately the commander's role to determine victory or defeat. No matter how many remnants were left, they couldn't change the bigger picture.

'In the end, the success of this matter depends on how well Karzan's strategy works.'

However, Huten wouldn't simply be defeated easily.

"Tonight, I'll rest cautiously, prepared for a surprise attack."

"Understood."

But Nagan wouldn't sleep.

...The eve of the blood crisis was passing by like that.

[Translator - Pot ]

[Proofreader - Kawaii ]