Chapter: 625
As Duke Kurten welcomed his guests inside, he struggled to suppress the rising anger while continuing to explain the terms of the bet.
“I expect something from this wager solely to gauge the opponent’s resolve. Dealing with someone who arrives here half-heartedly is a miserable ordeal. If I could ascertain their determination in another way, I wouldn’t care about the stakes.”
For him, gambling was nothing more than a hobby.
He had no intention of taking anything from it; tarnishing the name of Kurten would be a disgrace.
He has always aimed to respect the strong while being respected in return, and here he was about to stoop to something that would belong in the Newman Count’s playbook. He could never show his face to his ancestors with that kind of shame.
“The Second Prince initially wagered his beloved sword. Knowing what it means for a martial artist to put their weapon on the line, I accepted the bet. The aftermath of that—acquiring his clothing—was just a way to honor the Second Prince’s desires.”
Sure, the emerging young challenger was exciting, but the root of the disgrace lay firmly with the Second Prince. Thus, blaming him felt utterly unjust to Duke Kurten.
“Benedict! How could you misconstrue such a thing after all the years we’ve fought together on the frontlines? Do I look like some trash relishing that kind of stuff!?”
“I’m sorry! I have no excuses!”
His outburst had escalated, leaving Benedict bowing deeply, and soon the rest of the company followed suit in apologies.
In that room, everyone tiptoed around the Duke, yet one person stood tall and unabashedly bold: Lucy Alrn.
“Yawn. How long are you planning to keep up the lunacy? If you keep on, I might take a nap.”
The Duke’s lips twitched upwards at her audacity. She was audacious for a girl who had done her fair share of naughty deeds; was she treating him as something less than an equal human?
“Don’t worry. By the time we finish chatting, my servants will have the bets prepared.”
“Then let’s hurry. You don’t have much time left; you should use it wisely.”
With her irreverent remarks causing a stir, the Duke gathered himself and glared with his crimson eyes.
“Before we move forward, let’s discuss the terms of your wager. What do you intend to wager?”
“Your eyes look rather sinister. Should I give you a kiss on the cheek?”
“What?”
“Not to your liking? I thought you had been staring at my lips so intently.”
Lucy giggled playfully, but no laugh escaped Duke Kurten’s lips.
The moment she spoke the word “kiss,” a murderous vibe flooded the room.
“Ha! Are the beasts surrounding me all desperate for my lips?”
Seeing him disarm the tension with disdainful humor, the Duke concealed his complex thoughts behind a smile.
He had heard of beauties shaking nations, but he never expected that the subject of such rumors would be this little girl.
It was a blessing that this girl seemed uninterested in anyone; if she were to hold someone’s hand, a civil war might just spark!
“Alright, enough of the jokes. For the terms of this wager, I’m putting up this mace.”
As the weapon was placed on the table, everyone in the parlor collectively held their breath.
The mace once wielded by Ruel, the hero who saved the world during the mythological era.
It was an artifact the church would eagerly covet—rich in historical value and boasting extraordinary actual abilities, and of course, Duke Kurten was aware of its legacy.
Lucy Alrn’s use of such a relic was well-known.
Thus, he thought she was trying to toy with an adult yet again.
No way was she throwing around something so precious lightly.
A thing to be relinquished only when one reaches the end of their life.
There was no reason for her to put such a treasure at stake when she had everything at her disposal.
“Feeling scared?”
“What?”
“You look frightened. Am I right?”
Scared? Me?
“Don’t worry, Sugar Duke. I’m not one to hope for big things from you. Accepting something from a dusty old man is just gross, you know?”
“Are you so certain?”
“Of course! I don’t plan to lose to a washed-up oldie counting down his days!”
“…Alright. I’ll accept your challenge.”
Logically, he should refuse this proposal. If he lost, he’d have to pay an appropriate price for the relic.
No matter how noble the head of a marquis family was, sourcing a cost equal to that weapon was a burdensome task.
However, Duke Kurten willingly accepted Lucy’s offer. The moment he took a step back, he sensed everything collapsing around him.
“Let’s go!”
I needed to determine whether this bold little brat’s assurance was just bravado or if she had some backup plan in mind.
*
[For heaven’s sake, think before you speak! Who puts their own gear on the betting table at such a critical moment!?]
The fact that he’d become the wager himself apparently aggravated the venerable one, who had been lecturing non-stop.
While he could understand the sentiment, I had my reasons too.
The larger the stakes against Kurten, the higher my chances of winning are.
It’s better to take a bold step than nervously skulk around with small stakes.
‘Who was it again who thought I was crazy for offering myself as a wager?’
Initially, I entertained the absurdity of betting myself, as it held high value and would allow me to leverage a negotiation if things went awry.
But the moment I pulled that card, the gasps from the crowd and even my grandfather were so loud I had no choice but to steer towards the weapon option.
[That’s craziness incarnate!]
‘Grandfather, think about it the other way around. I’m expressing just how desperate I am.’
To be honest, I felt none of that desperation. What I was currently contemplating was simply how to best enjoy munching on those humanoid pastries.
But saying that wouldn’t convince him, so I tossed out some sensible excuses.
‘It’s not that I want to; it’s just how it has to be.’
[…Tsk.]
Being a divine apostle has its perks, like making my empty words suddenly carry a weight.
[Do you think you can win?]
‘Probably?’
[What’s with that flippant answer?!]
Well, I can’t say for sure, can I?
Given my high luck stats and boosts from hero skills, I figured I would win. If I were behind a monitor, I’d be clicking away without breaking a sweat, but here? Reality doesn’t always adhere to my expectations.
‘Well, let’s just see. If it goes sideways, we simply flip it over.’
[Your unease never seems to fade…]
We were going with blackjack.
A straightforward game where whoever gets closest to 21 with their card numbers wins.
The dealer, a figure who swore his honesty to the gods, reminded me of the game in every sense.
As I soaked in the familiar scenery with a smirk, I adjusted to the murmurs around me and examined my hand.
An Ace and a 10.
Oh.
With face cards and an Ace worth 11 points, that makes 21.
*
Duke Kurten’s hand trembled.
Twenty-one.
Yet again, twenty-one.
Lucy Alrn’s hand repeatedly—again and again—totaled twenty-one!
Is that even possible in the real world? How could there not be a miss after starting the game?
“Sugar Duke, you don’t need to be considerate anymore. I’ve clearly won plenty, haven’t I?”
“…Next.”
“Wait, are you seriously still in the game?”
“Next hand.”
“Whoa! No way you’re that pathetic, Duke! You can’t be that unlucky!”
“Next hand! Hurry!”
Lucy Alrn, with her grip on the card, looked a bit careless. Her nervous fidgeting sent a clear message: she was definitely a rookie.
Initially, when we began, her hand movements had reassured me, and for a while, I thought it might just be beginner’s luck.
But not anymore. Lucy Alrn was definitely working some angles.
“Looks like I won again~ I wanted to let you win out of pity, but now I feel bad!”
Laugh all you want. So many have tried to outsmart me with such pathetic antics and ended up falling short.
“Funny, isn’t it? Is it that hard to draw a 21?”
Lucy Alrn, your fate shall be no different from theirs!
As the Duke fixed his gaze, determined to spot her tricks, he mechanically shouted for the next round, but the dealer shook his head with a perplexed expression.
“What?”
“Your Grace, it’s over.”
“No way, it’s only just started!”
“Duke Kurten, take a look at your hand.”
Hearing the First Prince’s words, he slowly lowered his head, confirming that his hands were completely empty.
“Eh? It’s already over? I just started to grasp what was happening.”
With a mocking grin, Lucy Alrn jabbed at him.
“Enjoy your game, Hoo-Hoo Duke. Just a tip: you might want to quit gambling altogether; you’re far too pathetic.”
“…Wait a second.”
That was an obvious provocation, but Duke Kurten was too overwhelmed to spare a thought for it.
“Just one more time.”
“Really? We’re doing this again? You’re no fun, Sugar Duke.”
“You don’t have to wager anything. If I win, just tell me how you managed that trick. That’ll suffice.”
“What happens if you lose?”
“If I lose?”
“Come on, you and I aren’t in the same league. I specially play with a worthless old fellow like you. You think I’d do that for free?”
As much as I disliked her mocking tone, the Duke had no retort. The reality was what it was.
“…What do you want?”
“Hmm, let me think about it.”
“Are you asking me to sign a blank contract?”
“If you don’t want to, then no worries for me. I’m perfectly fine; it’s a pain dealing with the stench of an old man.”
Hearing her giggles, Duke Kurten, in a moment of madness, nodded even against the pleas of those around him.
“Let’s start!”
With each bet, I had eliminated many possibilities.
Just this one! One more match should be enough!
Then I would uncover the tricks of this cheeky little girl!
“Whoa! Didn’t you say you were definitely going to win? Seems odd, did I miss something?”
Naturally, Kurten didn’t succeed after wildly thrashing in yet another losing bout.
“Pfft! You’re really pathetic!”
Now he had to worry about the devil standing before him and what she might ask of him.
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