The Terminally Ill Young Master is the Mad Dog of the Underworld-Chapter 277

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[Translator - Pot ]

[Proofreader - Kawaii ]

Chapter 277: Barclava

We stayed an extra day to recover from our fatigue and prepare to return to our respective territories.

“Something feels off.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Black Society’s execution unit. We didn’t kill every last one of them, did we?”

“Hmm, that’s true.”

Jeffrey stroked his chin.

“We didn’t get the chance to confirm. In the end, we were too busy trying to survive that hell.”

Taris chimed in in agreement.

“Now that you mention it, even the ones that kept attacking us vanished at some point.”

“If they had kept pushing, we would’ve taken a lot more damage.”

Exactly as Jeffrey said.

“It’s a miracle none of the Royal Guard died.”

Though there were plenty of minor injuries, and even a few serious ones. Still, for a first deployment, the outcome wasn’t bad at all...

“It’s strange though. Didn’t the Black Society used to go as far as self-detonating to protect their commanders?”

“Maybe even from their side, replacing an execution unit is too difficult now.”

Siena naturally joined the conversation.

“Or perhaps they always expected Gelberich to die. Maybe they were ready to cut him loose at any moment.”

“That... makes sense.”

If that was true, Gelberich’s entire life amounted to nothing more than that of a disposable soldier ant.

“Where could those guys have gone?”

Siena asked, concerned.

“I did manage to take down a swordsman who seemed like a second-in-command, but I’m sure there was a third commander still out there.”

Ghir, Drak, and Rudgarda all shook their heads.

“I didn’t see anything.”

“Same here.”

“Us too.”

“...It’s unsettling.”

I folded my arms.

“In any case, we can’t keep worrying about every single one that slipped through.”

“Right.”

“What matters is that we won, we survived, and we grew stronger.”

I looked at Siena and Ghir.

“You’ve all become far stronger than just a few days ago.”

And the one who gained the most from this battle wasn’t Ghir—it was Siena.

“I feel like my swordsmanship has reached a new level.”

“You’re the one who ended up the strongest again, aren’t you?”

Ghir smirked.

“I heard you came up with some weird new ultimate techniques again?”

I shrugged.

“Well, something like that.”

Soul-Slumbering Black Moon.

And Black Wings.

Both were techniques that emerged as the fusion between Ink Soul Sacred Shadow Technique and the Dark Mana deepened.

“In any case, if we’re going to keep fighting the Black Society as a common enemy, we’ll need to keep working together.”

“Aren’t we already allied from way back?”

Drak asked for confirmation.

“That’s true. Which is why this time, I want to form a solid alliance with Valkenhain as well.”

Not just as Allenvert the person, but also from the standpoint of the clan of Grunewald.

Restoring the alliance with Valkenhain, the clan that had once defeated Exilos together with us 200 years ago, was of utmost importance.

“That’s only natural, but before that, don’t you have something you need to take care of?”

Ghir pointed at me.

“You need to secure your position as head of Grunewald. Drak is already head of his clan, the Lady is the clear heir to Valkenhain, but you’re the only one who hasn’t been officially recognized. That lowers your standing.”

“Sharp observation. That one actually stung a bit.”

I nodded.

“But it’s not as easy as it sounds. My brother Verdzig has never once fallen behind me.”

Siena asked,

“Is the second son Verdzig still stronger than you?”

“Yes. But after this battle, I’ve gotten close to the mid-level of 7th tier—”

After a moment of careful calculation, I said,

“He’s probably about half a level stronger than me.”

“...A monster is still a monster, huh.”

Of course, Siena had heard plenty about Verdzig as well.

“If someone with that level of talent had ended up on the Dark King’s side, he could’ve become an absolute monster by now.”

“But he’s not the type to walk the path of the villain... That’s what I believe.”

Rudgarda nodded in agreement.

“He’s nothing like the bastards the Black Society raised, like Gelberich. If anything, he’s... quite human.”

“That’s true.”

“But probably, the only reason he hasn’t crossed the line is because of the Black Serpent Duke and you.”

“……”

I had the same thought.

“Come to think of it, there were plenty of times he could’ve killed me.”

Maybe he just didn’t want to kill me.

“I want to ask you something. What will you do if you lose to the second young master?”

Ghir asked.

“Then I’ll fall in line under him.”

“Seriously?”

“It’s only fair. And if it really doesn’t work out, I’ll go independent.”

Compared to how he was when I first awoke after reincarnating, Verdzig had become far more... human.

“If you do go independent, come to our clan. We’ll treat you like royalty.”

Drak offered.

“I’m not really into the whole assassin thing.”

“Hmm, then how about Valkenhain—”

I scoffed at both their invitations.

“What’s with you guys? I never planned on losing in the first place. I’m just saying I’m prepared if it happens.”

Ghir smirked.

“Oh yeah? For a sibling rivalry, it’s pretty soft.”

“Your clan is just way too brutal.”

Compared to a clan that thinks ‘mercy’ means cutting off limbs and crippling your martial arts, this was positively gentle.

“Speaking of which...”

Ghir continued.

“If you win, doesn’t that mean Grunewald, Valkenhain, and Svaltalfar are all united?”

“So?”

“In other words, we’ll basically be taking over all of Litvaleur—day and night, the whole damn place.”

“……!”

We burst into unholy laughter.

“Fuhuhuhu.”

“Hohohoho.”

“Kyahaha!”

I looked at the two and asked,

“Who’s going to be king?”

Siena joined in the madness.

“Should we flip a coin?”

“That might get intense.”

Ghir raised his hand.

“I’ll settle for being the Dark King of Litvaleur.”

“What kind of twisted bastard chooses the Dark King title?”

“Why the hell are you cursing me out?!”

“Forget that. Let’s go with Dark Emperor instead.”

“Dark Emperor? Doesn’t sound bad.”

Jeffrey, listening to our nonsense, muttered under his breath.

“If someone rats you guys out, you’ll all be arrested for treason.”

***

No matter how well-trained an operative is, they still need sleep.

After three days of fleeing with no rest, taking the hardest roads, the most remote paths, and the most exposed trails, the Black Society’s execution unit...

Was finally ambushed the moment they let themselves sleep in the mountains.

“Goddamn it! How did they find us?!”

The stunned agents of the Black Society hurriedly drew their swords, but their bodies, worn down by exhaustion, could no longer resist properly.

“Finally caught your tail.” ƒгeewёbnovel.com

The man who spoke—his name was well known to them.

“Karl Grunewald!”

The Eldest Young master of Grunewald had personally come for them.

“A bastard like you dares to stand against us?”

“Shut your damn mouth.”

Fwoosh!

A flame orb shot out from Karl’s hand and engulfed the Black Society agent, incinerating him whole.

“Gyaaaaaaagh!”

The blazing purgatory flame lit up the night and spread outward, surrounding the area just like us.

“Solar Heaven-Shattering Sword.”

The ultimate technique from the Solar Flare Sword Style instantly reduced the execution unit to ashes, and the knights who had been lying in wait swooped in to take down the lucky few who had evaded the flame.

“Guh!”

“Aaaaargh!”

“Shit, my body won’t move!”

They never realized it even in their dying moments.

Because Karl and his knights had already filled the area with mountain miasma poison and sleep-inducing incense before launching the attack, the exhausted and half-conscious executioners stood no chance against their well-prepared ambush.

“Area secured. No survivors escaped. Three prisoners captured alive.”

At his lieutenant’s report, Karl gave a firm order.

“Bind them tightly and make sure they can’t kill themselves.”

“Yes, sir.”

Karl looked down at the scorched ground, embers still smoldering.

“…It wasn’t exactly according to plan, but this should do nicely as a little gift for you.”

He intended to extract information from them.

***

“Everyone, return home safely.”

“Good fortune to you as well, my lord.”

“Don’t worry.”

“I’ll write to you.”

“…Understood.”

“You still have the token I gave you, right?”

“Of course.”

Siena stared at me with an unreadable expression before climbing up on her horse.

“With every farewell comes another meeting. Farewell, then.”

Once Siena and the Valkenhain troops had departed, Ghir and Drak came over to say their goodbyes.

“If something urgent comes up, find our branch chief. He’ll pass the word along quickly.”

“Got it.”

“Next time we meet, it’ll be with you as Grunewald’s young lord… or as our honored guest.”

“No need to rub it in.”

After sending off the two assassin brothers, it was our turn to leave.

“My lord, I can never repay this debt. As I said before, next time, I’ll be the one lending you a hand.”

I shook hands with Kailan.

“We may both be landless now, but next time, let’s meet as a duke and a count.”

I meant it half-jokingly, but Kailan replied with utter seriousness.

“Understood. When I report the territorial war to the royal family, I’ll do my best to push for the Black Society to be officially declared an enemy.”

“I’d be grateful, Count Webern.”

We turned our horses toward Grunewald.

***

While riding along the Lindella River, I chatted with my retainers about the upcoming duel with Verdzig.

“Come to think of it, what’s Somerset up to these days? Haven’t heard anything since he went into confinement.”

“I’ve heard he shows up from time to time to train, but there’s been no real movement.”

Jeffrey answered.

“Hm.”

Barclava, on the other hand, had grown into quite the fine young man—he even called me ‘big brother’ now and asked about martial arts.

‘I should make time to see him when we get back.’

I’d been so caught up in everything lately that I’d neglected my younger brothers.

‘Now that I think about it, what’s Karl been doing this whole time?’

Still no word from him.

***

Barclava had been summoned by his mother, Emengarde.

“Mother.”

“Sit, Barclava.”

With broader shoulders and a deeper voice than before, Barclava sat across from Emengarde.

“…You’ve grown so tall.”

He had already surpassed his mother’s height without even realizing it.

“Would you like some tea?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

Barclava politely declined.

“I see.”

Nodding lightly, Emengarde got to the point.

“As you’re aware, the battle for the next Clan Head will soon begin.”

“Yes.”

“I overlooked your association with Allenvert until now, but it’s time for you to ‘come back’ to our side.”

“…Mother.”

Barclava had expected this and came prepared with an answer.

“I can’t support Brother Verdzig.”

“Barclava, are you serious?!”

Bang!

Emengarde slammed the table and glared at him with fury.

“Are you truly saying you’d side with Allenvert over your own brother?!”

The old Barclava might have flinched and lowered his head at her outburst—

But not anymore. He was no longer a boy afraid of her temper.

“Allenvert is my brother too.”

“…!”

Barclava pressed her instead.

“Is it such a terrible thing… to side with a half-brother over a full one?”

“So now you think you can lecture your own mother?”

Emengarde, unable to hold back her rage, raised her hand.

“Go ahead and hit me. After all the beatings I took during training, your slap won’t even hurt.”

“Barclava!”

“If you’re not going to hit me, then I’ll take my leave.”

Barclava bit his lip and stood.

“…Please take care of your health. The evenings are getting cold.”

“!!!”

Emengarde’s strength gave out, and she collapsed back into her chair.

***

Barclava walked shoulder to shoulder with the Special Operations Division soldiers waiting outside the manor.

“Don’t you think you went a little hard on her? I heard shouting from inside.”

“…You guys are the ones who egged me on. Especially you, Chase.”

“Huh? We didn’t do anything!”

“Now you’re playing innocent. Bastards.”

“Ahahaha!”

And from the window above, Emengarde watched Barclava’s retreating back in silence.

…Her son, who no longer cowered under her anger.

[Translator - Pot ]

[Proofreader - Kawaii ]

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