《Prove your worth as a pathetic being by becoming the live-in son-in-law of the Grand Duchy.》
《Whatever it takes, become engaged. The aftermath will sort itself out naturally. You are our hope.》
《If you can’t become the son-in-law of the Grand Duke of the North, at least be a helping hand for the chosen betrothed and be of use to the family.》
*
A hundred noblemen, each assigned a unique task, participated in the Grand Ducal Betrothal Competition.
Since the contest didn’t consider social standing or class—only requiring noble blood—almost a thousand applications rolled in. Among them, one hundred were selected after screenings, competing in preliminaries and main competitions over a fortnight.
Finally, tomorrow marks the start of the last evaluation, and after fifteen days of living together, the ultimate winner will be decided.
With a rather high probability of 25%.
Some will prove their worth, some will become hope, and some will be of assistance.
It’s just fifteen days.
If they can endure for fifteen more days, they will write a new shiny history.
A brilliant new history.
Thus, the very thought of withdrawing from the final evaluation was something that couldn’t be fathomed, even in dreams. It was an unimaginable choice that only a madman would make.
And considering Elden Raphelion, who made that insane choice, as a lunatic was only to be expected.
A ripple of silence followed, like a gentle wave.
The first to disturb it was Kyle, the eldest son of a Count.
“…….Withdrawal? Have you been indulging in day drinking? Such jesting is utterly inappropriate before such esteemed individuals.”
“Haha. Right? Was the plateful you were hurriedly devouring your last supper?”
Blund regarded the withdrawal declaration as a jest, continuing Kyle’s mockery.
To them, Elden Raphelion was not a competitor. He was merely a tool for a better evaluation.
Just as he had always been in the academy.
Thus, Elden’s withdrawal declaration was indeed bad news for them.
It meant a public good to be exploited would vanish. Since he was never seen as a contender, his withdrawal wouldn’t affect their chances of winning.
Deron, who had been maintaining silence, turned to Elden with interest in his eyes.
“…What’s the reason?”
“How could a villain like me possibly be a candidate for the Duchess’ husband? I simply realized my place too late.”
Clink.
Deron placed his spoon on his plate and wiped his mouth.
“Realizing your place… I understand that, but who knew you’d be so weak? To give up the race just when the finish line is in sight?”
“I have lived a life walked over others. It’s far too unclean a life to join the noble family of the Grand Duke of the North.”
Elden spoke, looking at everyone present.
It was somewhat of a hint, but for those unaware of the Duchess’s true identity, it was merely the bitter self-reflection of a villain.
Of course, some felt the sharp sting of that reflection.
Blund finished his meal and swirled the glass of wine in his hand.
The ruby-red wine sloshed heavily.
“…Everyone gets hurt and inflicts pain in life. The world honors those who trample others, not those who are trampled upon. Surely you know this by now.”
Elden smiled.
It was a serene smile, one only someone who had renounced worldly desires could offer.
And it was also a bitter smile directed at a nobleman who praised wickedness.
“I know. It’s just that the mere thought of pretending to be noble while being evaluated, having made others shed tears of blood, makes me uncomfortable enough to withdraw.”
A slightly pointed voice echoed again amidst the lovely melody of the orchestra.
“After all, there are no eternal secrets in the world, right?”
It was a sharp critique of evil deeds, coupled with a chilling warning for those in the know.
While it contained a grave message, Elden could only sense the truth of the ages—those who cause a stench complain first.
Deron’s turquoise eyes began to glow with anger.
“…It almost sounds like you’re aiming your words at someone. Are you seeking atonement now, after all this time? But you see, that doesn’t return the tears of blood that have already flowed.”
And as Deron, the group’s leader, expressed his displeasure, Blund and Kyle crossed their arms or frowned in agreement.
“Lord Elden, you seem to have become quite a nuisance since I last saw you. No. It’s more fitting to say you’ve become weak.”
“The blood you were born with is simply destiny. You cannot go against it, and to do so, you must be ready to bleed. I wonder if you’re prepared for that kind of sacrifice.”
Elden let out a soft sigh.
This was the inevitable flow of things.
They had chosen deception over introspection since the latter part of the free chapters.
And now it remained the same.
The trio attempted to lecture him in retaliation to the rebuke.
They regarded anyone who reflected on themselves as foolish while dressing their own beliefs in eloquent phrases.
They were merely using his self-reflection for their own amusement.
Still, Elden understood them.
From the get-go, they were characters designed to be the unknowing targets of tragedy.
Expecting a shallow warning to spur reflection and reform was a nonsensical notion.
And frankly, he didn’t mind them using and belittling his reflections.
As Blund and Deron said, showing weakness in the aristocratic world was a detractor.
They were implying he was not fitted to be a person from the harsh Northern land.
Moreover, as a declared loser after announcing his withdrawal, digging into that point would only be a favor to him.
Mutual support, a good flow of things.
Elden chuckled.
“Haha, there wasn’t any specific meaning. Don’t worry about it. I simply shared my personal feelings since you asked.”
He offered just enough responsibility and duty expected from someone looking to escape the fray.
He wasn’t sure if it was noticeable, but why should he care any further?
After all, they were targets that well deserved the swings of the Third Northern Duchess’ sword.
In the name of the heroine, he ought to avoid further interference.
Elden set aside his empty glass.
From here on, he would let fate take over and merely observe the flow.
Of course, he’d thoroughly shed the burden of responsibility that came with being a transmigrator.
“And I merely conveyed my intention to withdraw. I haven’t heard any specific response yet. I simply informed you all beforehand, seeing you as ‘colleagues’ rather than competitors.”
There was no reason to ostracize them unless they caused him direct harm.
Yet if they did any damage, that would indeed be a different story.
Following Elden’s statement, Deron glanced at the evaluator and said.
“Well, don’t fret. If that’s your sentiment, so be it. Let’s finish our meal.”
Blund and Kyle nodded, and the hurried scribbling of the judge’s pens came to a stop.
With that, the first gathering of the final candidates came to an end.
Step, step.
I was walking down the hallway with Rendler.
The first gathering had concluded.
In a more monotonous and uncomfortable manner than I had expected.
I had no intentions of making enemies with the male leads of the novel.
Nothing could be more foolish than that.
I didn’t possess a saintly nature akin to Mother Teresa, nor was it guaranteed that one of the three would emerge as the final victor.
Thus, there was no need to overstep bounds.
What lay ahead was simply waiting for the Grand Duke’s approval of my withdrawal. Since I had fulfilled my duties as a transmigrator, my only task now was to observe.
It mattered not whether they noticed the hint and chose to reflect, ignored it, and acted regretfully, or even if they managed to go through this stage of retaliation to become engaged to the Duchess.
I intended to leave my fate in the hands of destiny and carve out my own future.
The pressing issue was…
‘What should I do first?’
What should a modern individual, suddenly thrust into the medieval era, prioritize?
More so for someone who had become a noble of a declining County?
Thanks to the knowledge and memories of the body I inhabited, I didn’t need to start by learning to read, but finding a way to restore the fallen household was beyond my capabilities.
Although the original Elden Raphelion aimed to elevate his family fortunes via a union with the Duchess, I sadly had no such plans.
Even if the family’s fortunes had dipped, it still quelled its status as a County.
Wealth typically lingers for three generations, or so the saying goes. Therefore, there was no need to cling to this betrothal game or fret about reviving the family’s wealth.
‘First, escaping safely from this place foretold of tragedy is key.’
The priority was to overcome the immediate crisis.
Even if my withdrawal was denied, it wouldn’t necessarily place me in jeopardy.
After all, there are numerous ways to evade this pitfall of regret, exhaustion, and obsession.
Withdrawing was merely the cleanest, surefire, and fastest method.
‘I want to hurry up and rest.’
As I rushed to my room, suddenly, the sound of weeping caught my ears.
It was behind me.
Curious about the noise, I halted and turned around, only for my gaze to land on the old butler hastily turning away.
……….
After a brief pause, I took a few steps forward. When I spun back around, the butler again faced away from me.
……….
His slight trembling shoulders, hands rubbing his eyes, and the sound of sniffles was all too telling.
“Could it be… that you are crying?”
Rendler shook his head.
“H-Hoho. O-Of course, t-that isn’t the case. I just got dust in my, Sniffle, eye. That is all.”
“Dust in your nose too, I see.”
“Hohooho. T-The d-dust is quite fierce.”
…Sniffle.
It was far too obvious a sign to brush off with flimsy excuses. With patience for a moment, Rendler finally turned around, his eyes glistening.
He then awkwardly smiled and lowered his head.
“I apologize, My Lord. It appears my emotions have gotten the better of me at this age.”
“…It’s nothing you need to apologize for.”
“I was simply moved by the words you spoke at the gathering. I’ve shown quite an unsightly side of myself.”
…Ah.
Was that the reason for the sudden tears that had come out of nowhere?
All I did was offer a warning to my fellow tragedy-bound characters, yet unintentionally, it seems I had stirred profound emotions in the old butler.
Sniffle.
With teary eyes, Rendler flashed a bright smile.
His face flushed with embarrassment.
“Please do not stare so blatantly at my disgraceful display of emotions. It’s intolerably embarrassing. I was just so overcome with joy. That’s all.”
“…….”
I suppressed the urge to say, ‘Even if you hadn’t told me, watching an old butler blush like a young girl is beyond uncomfortable,’ and merely turned around.
It seemed he was a character much more prone to tears than initially suggested.
To think he would shed tears over just a moment of reflection. Any act of kindness might lead to outright wailing.
‘Ugh. I should tread carefully around him.’
As I stepped forward to turn the corner with such thoughts…
“KYAH!”
Crash!
I ended up colliding with a woman briskly advancing toward me.
She was a maid no older than her teens, clad in a uniform adorned with the crest of the Northern Grand Duchy.
My site has received a lot of DMCA notices, lol. From now on, I will update the MTL on https://darkmtl.com/.
The site is fast and lightweight because there are no ads yet. However, the theme is different from Cybor-TL, so take some time to familiarize yourself.
Support me by donating at least $10, and you'll have the right to request any novel from Novelpia (excluding 19+ content) using a newly developed tool.