Count Louis Beallon.
Rooted in the Duchy of Demisia, he was the head of an ordinary count’s household, with one son and one daughter under his care.
The Beallon family may not be renowned, but they had managed to weather life’s storms without making anyone feel burdensome, nor did they listen to anyone’s grievances.
In fact, Count Louis maintained an excellent reputation, occasionally earning praises from the common folk nearby.
His one son also held a fairly good reputation.
He had followed the teachings that nobles should conceal the truth and wield deception skillfully.
He believed it was a virtue not to raise his son with cruelty.
And thanks to this virtue, he considered himself honored to be one of the final candidates for the Grand Ducal Betrothal Contest of the Third Northern Duchess.
Perhaps the Beallon house could look forward to a brilliant future riding on the coattails of the Winterfell Grand Duchy.
Provided, of course, that the circumstances didn’t return unexpectedly.
—
“…Father!”
Kyle Beallon.
The son he had sent off with hopes of becoming the family’s beacon had returned.
Disheveled and in rags.
He had come back even before the contest ended.
And that son now stood before him, pleading.
“There was a predecessor…! So, I just withdrew and came back. I’m sorry for not living up to expectations…!”
“…….”
Count Louis gazed upon his son’s pale face.
The look in his eyes was enough to make Kyle unable to meet his father’s gaze.
And when his father silently pulled out a letter and tossed it down before him, Kyle realized that matters had unraveled contrary to his wishes.
“F-Father…? What is this…?”
“Read it. And respond whether what it says is all true.”
“Y-Yes…?”
Kyle hurriedly picked up the letter and began to read.
A moment later…
“Th-That’s a lie-!! It’s a blatant falsehood meant to slander me-!”
Kyle had to deny it.
The contents of the letter demanded it.
It was an ugly truth contained in that letter that disavowed the suffering he had escaped from.
And what his father had said rang true: Those who hide the truth and skillfully employ falsehoods thrive.
“Lie? Slander? Did I teach you that?”
“Y-Yes?”
“Are you trying to hide the truth with such a flimsy lie? And dare to disrespect your father?”
“F-Father-! How could I do that-!”
“Shut that mouth-! I thought I raised you well, but do you know how much it pains me to realize that was such foolish arrogance-!”
Kyle trembled like a scared puppy.
He feared the face of his enraged father.
What he thought was a haven suddenly felt like a pit of hell.
—
“I’ll ask you one last time. The contents of the letter. Is it true or false? You better answer carefully.”
With his father seemingly certain about the letter’s contents, Kyle could only recite the saying: ‘There is no sanctuary for those who flee.’
“It… it’s the truth….”
—
Moments later.
“Bring that brat in here and break his legs. I’m going to personally deliver him to the Grand Ducal Castle of Winterfell.”
The sound of a fleeing victim’s knees shattering echoed, accompanied by a blood-curdling scream.
Crack!
“Uwaaaahh-!!”
In a mansion that should have echoed with cheers of joy, where he’d hastily returned to his nest, only the heart-wrenching cries of despair resounded.
And that despair began to return to where it was meant to go, confined behind iron bars.
The fugitive, realizing he could not escape unscathed from the past, started to be escorted back to where he truly belonged.
Realizing that there could be no peace in the place he had fled to.
—
At the moment the fugitive’s despair echoed.
Lumia and Gelwood were facing off against each other.
It was a stark confrontation between someone trying to dig up a horrific past and another trying to cover up the foolish present.
“Even now, if you stop, I will devise a way to ensure His Grace the Grand Duke remains unaware. I implore you to consider this old man’s request, Your Grace.”
What am I supposed to stop?
How can I halt something that hasn’t even begun?
Is that all you can say, just to stop?
Why should someone whose duty it is to serve the Winterfell Duchy think of me first, and only spew that nonsense?
If you knew the truth, if you were aware of the incident at the academy, you should support the downfall of the bullies instead of trying to stop me!
“So, are you even willing to heed my command to not interfere?! Are you going to resolve the grudge I cannot release?!!”
Lumia’s ire erupted once again.
In her piercing eyes swirled unfulfilled hatred, perhaps a vendetta that could never be sated.
Her pounding heart sent a surge of bitter rage coursing through her veins.
That wrath boiled and evaporated her blood, and in the emptiness left behind bubbled forth an unquenchable new grudge.
Three long years of mockery and violence.
Three long years of suffering endured.
It was maddening to live with such injustice.
Returning to that day, realizing she had to “endure” was heartbreaking and pitiful for Lumia.
“I will devise a legal method to address the Grand Duchess’s grievances.”
A legal method?
“Don’t make me laugh! If there was a way for a grudge to be resolved through such methods, it would never have started in the first place!!”
What I endured was far from legal, so how could a legal recourse resolve it!
It was irrational verbal and physical abuse—how could it be judged reasonably!
Even my father, while hunting down the monster tribe, used to say such things!
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth!
Those monsters that indiscriminately slaughtered the people should be crushed without mercy!
“I will also arrange personal measures to ensure you can release your grudge. So please, spare the family’s tradition from further disgrace. His Grace the Grand Duke would surely deliver strict punishment if he knew.”
At Gelwood’s earnest plea, Lumia let out a sigh.
Or perhaps it was a sign of defeat.
[It’s disgraceful.]
That absurd statement quenched the torrent of rage that had filled her.
Her clenched fists relaxed.
Was what she had to endure in the past not an insult?
That the traditions of her family were more important than the hell she had to endure?
What truly malicious and bitter words they were, and with uttering them, Lumia’s intense gaze softened.
“If I hurt your feelings, I apologize, but please understand my own feelings; I can no longer simply watch Your Grace walk into hell once more. How could I just stand by and observe?”
Ha.
Haha.
Hahaha.
Oh, how amusing.
So even Gelwood, who was always so serious, has a sense of humor?
To say the step I’m taking to escape from hell is leading me straight back into it?
That’s quite a talent for delivering nonsensical remarks.
A bitter smile formed on Lumia’s lips as she spoke.
“So tell me, what do you want me to do? Should I also forgive Elden just because you did?”
“…That wouldn’t be the case. I merely wish for this betrothal contest to conclude safely, in a manner befitting its reputation and tradition.”
“Safely…?”
Lumia elongated her words.
Then she chuckled again.
“Safely” means being fair without bias.
“Safely” also means having nothing to worry about.
“Innocence (無邪) means not being evil.”
Among the three meanings, none resonated with the conclusion of the betrothal contest, which made me chuckle.
If there were even one meaning that would participate in this ending, there was only one way to achieve it.
“Bring me Elden Raphelion.”
“Uh…?”
“If you wish for the ‘safely’ ending you spoke of, there’s only one way. Return Elden to me. Then I will stop.”
“Uh…?”
Gelwood wore a perplexed expression.
He had liberated Elden as a price for testifying to the past, hiding a blemish on the honorable reputation of the betrothal contest, and handing over all the evidence of that blemish.
It couldn’t be helped.
The evidence Elden presented and the scar on his cheek were sufficient to create not mere blemishes but a significant rift in the dignity of the contest.
Moreover, he had sincerely apologized to the Grand Duchess and pledged to hold that sentiment in his heart from now on.
He could no longer retain Elden’s withdrawal, and Gelwood had thus released him in exchange.
He lowered his head with a sorrowful expression.
“…I’m sorry, but I cannot void the treaty. Please consider it a command from His Grace the Grand Duke.”
Then, he raised his head.
A smile spread across Lumia’s face.
That smile gradually widened until it became laughter.
Soon, Lumia began to laugh, clutching her stomach, and Gelwood could only register a mix of confusion and sorrow on his face.
“Hahaha—!”
“W-What’s so funny…?”
Fear gripped him.
Even someone dulled by various upheavals could still feel terror—Lumia’s laugh contained an indescribable essence.
After a moment, Lumia wiped the droplets forming at the corners of her eyes and stopped laughing.
“Gelwood.”
“Yes?”
Though Gelwood had borne witness to Lumia’s past and present, at that moment, she seemed like a completely different person.
He had thought the image of Lumia tearing up Elden’s note in the eternal snow garden was just a moment of madness.
He had assumed it was merely an impulsive act.
However, it appeared that was not the case.
That realization frightened him, and it dawned upon Gelwood how naïve he had been to wish for the betrothal contest to conclude safely.
“You allowed Elden Raphelion, who should have been the victor, to leave at his whim, yet you expect this betrothal contest to end safely? I see you can joke as well!”
That very night, as Elden set off for the party with Rachel, two letters were dispatched to the Caelid Duchy and the Rosfell Marquisate.
One from Deron of the Caelid Duchy.
The other from Blund of the Rosfell Marquisate.
The letters carried the same despair as the one received at the Beallon Count’s residence.
And in sending those letters, Lumia couldn’t help but feel a deep, melancholic regret.
No one was left to accept the letter at the Raphelion Count’s residence, hence no one to render Elden’s withdrawal void.
Her parents were deceased, and his mother was an orphan without a family.
Lumia was left with the absurd delusion that the world itself was aiding his escape.
Moreover,
For Lumia, unable to face the emptiness left by Elden Raphelion, the betrothal contest no longer held any meaning.
No revenge, no liberation.
All gone.
And that night, another letter departed from the Grand Ducal Castle.
It was an urgent letter from Gelwood, hoping for the return of Logan, the head of the Winterfell Duchy.
You may also like Mesugaki Tank Enters The Academy
