Episode 94

Dive’s residence wasn’t far from the mansion. The butler who had accompanied them on the lady’s orders stared blankly out the carriage window, clearly shaken. The death of his master must have hit him hard.

“…Lord Ian.”

Ian responded by simply turning his head.

“Since it’s just the two of us, I’d like you to tell me the truth.”

“About what?”

“Are you truly not involved with the lady in any way?”

“Hah, really now.”

“This is important to me.”

“Is that so? To me, it’s a pointless question.”

The butler looked puzzled. If Ian wasn’t involved with the lady, then why had she panicked so badly and refused to return to her bedroom? Anyone could tell that kind of panic came from someone whose secret had been exposed.

“If you two really have nothing to do with each other, then it feels like all this tragedy started because of my misjudgment.”

Had the servants not been whispering behind their backs, perhaps that night wouldn’t have been so tragic for the count, the lady, and Clark alike.

Ian chuckled softly and muttered, “Sarmon, was it?”

“Yes.”

“Sarmon, who said this is a tragedy?”

“…Excuse me?”

“Is someone’s death always a tragedy? Of course, it is for the count himself, but for those who wished for his death, what could be a greater blessing? I trust you understand that well.”

Ian had witnessed the suffering of the servants who were beaten and crippled, and the lady’s pain as she bore the burden for them.

Sarmon covered his eyes and sighed quietly. He had no idea what the right thing to do was.

“And even if it is a tragedy, it’s not because of your misjudgment, but because of the count’s damnable personality.”

Ian drew a firm line. Meanwhile, the carriage slowed as they arrived at Dive’s residence. It was quite far out, and there were few houses nearby.

“Hm. It’s surprisingly quaint and pleasant.”

A three-story house with a low roof. Compared to the homes of commoners, it could be called a palace, but for a noble, it was rather modest. The small garden had only a single willow tree.

“Isn’t that Butler Sarmon?”

A servant who came out upon hearing their approach recognized Sarmon and bowed. It was unusual for him to come in person, especially with a stranger in tow.

“Is Lord Dive inside?”

“Yes. He’s praying at the moment.”

“There’s bad news. Show us in.”

“Ah, yes. This way…”

At the mention of bad news, the servant went inside first. The interior of the house was nothing special, except for a dark-toned painting hanging on the wall.

‘Praying, huh?’

That was unexpected. It was rare to find devout people in the borderlands. The central regions had the Papal Court and were closer to magic, so reverence for the divine was more common.

But here, the lord’s power was almost equal to the emperor’s. Everything revolved around the count, leaving little room for religion to assert authority.

“Please wait here a moment.”

Creak.

The servant led Ian and Sarmon into the parlor. Aside from the owner, there seemed to be no one else attending the house—no sounds, no signs of life. Ian nervously rubbed the back of his neck and asked Sarmon,

“By the way, what kind of person is Lord Dive?”

“Lord Dive? You don’t know him well?”

“He’s not my brother, so how would I?”

Sarmon seemed to hesitate, unsure how to describe him. While waiting for his answer, Ian took a closer look around the parlor.

A red-painted birchwood cross, a tablecloth with geometric patterns, dried leaves, colorful bead decorations, and books stacked all the way to the ceiling without a bookshelf…

“Other than his unique taste, I can’t make heads or tails of it.”

Sarmon glanced once at the firmly closed door and cleared his throat.

“To be honest, I don’t know much about his childhood either, but I’ve heard that Lord Dive was extremely studious.”

“Studious?”

Since Sarmon wasn’t originally from Merelrof but a settler, he only knew bits and pieces from rumors.

“The count seemed uninterested in anything but money, but Lord Dive was different.”

Sarmon wanted to object but realized it wasn’t entirely wrong, so he let it slide.

“The count thought his studiousness was a blessing, but later said it was a curse. He read a forbidden book from abroad.”

“A forbidden book? What kind?”

“It was about the Under-God.”

“Ah, the Under-God.”

“You know of it?”

Ian let out a small breath of surprise. Though grandly named, it was simple in essence—a new religion born among the lower classes in a foreign land. At the time, it was just one of many heresies, but over time it grew in size and influence.

‘Bariel is outside its reach, but other countries had quite a headache. Religious wars even broke out.’

Since Merelrof handled trade for new goods entering Bariel, they naturally encountered such things. Ian crossed his arms and rubbed his chin.

‘Honestly, this territory is a mess…’

It was a wonder how it had survived until now. The count was a mentally unstable man with severe jealousy, and his only heir was a heretic. This was beyond a mess—it was a disaster.

‘Maybe it’s better to replace the head of the family, just like the lady said.’

If a heretic gained power, no one could predict what would happen next. In the long run, it could threaten not only Ian’s territory but Bariel itself.

Creak.

“Sarmon.”

“Ah, Lord Dive.”

At that moment, the parlor door opened and Dive entered. Ian had expected him to be close in age to the count, but he looked younger—somewhere in his late thirties. His features resembled the count’s, but his overall aura was very different.

He gave off the vibe of someone who would seclude himself and spend all day praying.

“I have received a response from the Under-God.”

“There is bad news.”

“Who has died?”

Startled by his clairvoyance, Sarmon nodded, but Ian just snorted in disbelief. Of course bad news meant someone had died. It was ridiculous how seriously Dive acted as if he’d made some great discovery.

“The count was attacked by a servant in the mansion last night. The doctor is currently stitching his wounds for the funeral.”

“Hah.”

Dive sighed in a way that was hard to interpret—part sorrow, part relief. He pressed his fingertips to his forehead and muttered,

“Serious condition, very serious.”

“And this gentleman beside you?”

“Oh, this is Viscount Ian, the new lord of the neighboring territory.”

Sarmon introduced him, and Ian extended his hand.

“Ian. I haven’t yet been granted a family name by the emperor, so just call me Ian. We have an imperial advisor with us, and Lady Lien Merelrof requested assistance, so I came.”

Dive glanced at Ian’s hand, reluctantly shook it, and returned the greeting. He had apparently heard rumors about Ian—the commoner-born illegitimate son who overthrew his father to become the new lord.

“What kind of help?”

“Starting with delivering news to Lord Dive like this, and handling various affairs of the mansion. Lady Lien is quite overwhelmed, so someone is needed to assist her.”

“Your sister-in-law is something else, bringing in outsiders instead of relying on family. I’ll prepare quickly. Let’s return to the mansion.”

Ian smiled and nodded. But even in this brief exchange, there were many things that didn’t sit right. Ian was young and from humble origins, yet he held a title, while Dive had none. There was a subtle air of condescension in Dive’s demeanor.

‘And he says he’s going back?’

It might be an overreaction, but Dive’s attitude made it seem like the mansion was rightfully his. Dive left the parlor to change clothes, and Ian looked back at Sarmon.

“Butler, do you want Lord Dive to become the new head of the family?”

Sarmon hesitated. The sudden question made it hard to answer. The count hadn’t been a good master, but he was at least competent in business.

But Dive? Since coming of age, he’d never handled any affairs and spent half his days praying, obsessed with a cult.

“If Lord Dive moves into the mansion, I think you’ll lose your place. You’re not tied to this family by tradition.”

A butler was someone the head of the family trusted to manage the household. Dive had only one servant, so if he returned to the mansion, that servant would likely be appointed butler.

“I have no say in the matter. I served the count and only wish to uphold the glory of Merelrof.”

“Hmm. Is that so?”

Ian raised an eyebrow and asked again, but no answer came.

They followed Dive back to the mansion. At the entrance, Ian spotted a familiar carriage.

“Isn’t that your carriage, Lord Ian?”

“Yeah. Beric must have moved quickly.”

Beric had gone to fetch Romandro and had just arrived. The knights frowned at the gathering officials and openly took a defensive stance.

“Lord Ian, what’s going on here?”

“Let’s head inside first. This gentleman is Lord Dive, the count’s only blood relative.”

“You’re an advisor sent from the royal palace?”

“That’s correct. Please accept my deepest condolences.”

“Condolences? It’s alright, really.”

Dive straightened his back and strode ahead confidently, already carrying himself like the master of the estate. Ian, watching Dive and his butler rush in first, exchanged a glance with Romandro—a silent signal to take a moment.

“Ian, I’m not quite sure what exactly happened here.”

“A slave stabbed his master to death. But something’s off about the estate’s knights. I think they’re planning to seize control of the manor while everyone’s distracted.”

“Seize the manor? You mean they’re aiming for the lordship?”

Ian gave Romandro a brief rundown of the morning’s events: using the scandal involving Lady Rien and the count as a pretext to oust her, and that Dive would likely be dealt with as well.

“On top of that, Dive is a believer in the Underworld God.”

“What? What day is this? Just when things couldn’t get worse, they do.”

“The Underworld God? What’s that about?”

“Beric, I’ll explain later. Just listen for now.”

Romandro grimaced in frustration. The borderlands really never ceased to surprise him. Of all heresies, the one worshipping the Underworld God was the most troublesome and despised—even among the central nobility, no one was unaware of it.

“So, from what I see, the best option is for Lady Rien to become the new head of the family. Even if what happens after she becomes lord is left to fate, it’s better to have someone we can negotiate with.”

“I agree. The knights are aggressive; who knows what they might do later. And the Underworld God nonsense? Ridiculous. Might as well tell them to shove it. Honestly, they look perfectly normal… tsk tsk.”

Ian nodded in agreement with Romandro’s assessment.

“Then we’ll intervene.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“There are many options, but I have to return to the capital soon, so we can’t drag this out.”

Beric, who had been quietly listening, suddenly lit up with excitement—like a dog sensing something.

“…I haven’t even said anything yet.”

“So, you’re saying we just kill them all?”

“You sure pick up on that kind of thing fast.”

But outright wiping them out isn’t an option—not without justification, and because Lady Rien must be the one to take charge of this matter.

“If we kill them, it has to be done carefully.”