Chapter 143

“That is merely wishful thinking on your part.”

The Duke of La Mer, crushed beneath a weight that seemed capable of devouring him, struggled to respond. Eugène laughed at that. It was a cold, cynical sarcasm, reminiscent of Ebroin V when he heard nonsensical opinions from his servants.

“Wishful thinking? Do you mean to say that it is merely my wishful thinking for a group that cannot even decide whether a single life should be spared or ended, and scurries to plead with their superiors? Hardly. From what I have observed, you are little more than frogs in a well. Even in a place where anyone can enter, you brazenly displayed a petition in plain view for everyone to see, and yet, you did not even realize your own folly until it was pointed out. Pathetic fools, every one of you.”

“Yet you are now in the grasp of those very frogs. Whether your life is spared or ended lies entirely in their hands.”

“Oh my. Do you mean to call that a threat? You still have much to learn. Perhaps you must even learn a new way to instill fear in others.”

The same principle applied to human affairs as it did to conflicts between groups: except in truly exceptional cases, victory hinged on cause. More precisely, it depended on how many people believed in that cause. Duke La Mer understood that Eugène’s boldness stemmed from his belief that he possessed just cause. The Duke envied that brilliant confidence.

Everything Eugène said was true, yet that did not mean Duke La Mer had no internal rationale in reply. However, unlike his other relatives, he was painfully aware that his reasoning was nothing more than self-justification.

In truth, he had not joined this conspiracy for lofty ideals or a grand cause. He had joined it out of a more basic, personal, petty vengeance.

The Duke’s mother had endured a tragic life due to the fall of the Eastern territories. She suffered humiliations no lady should ever endure, and broken by grief, she withered and died young. Had it not been for theDalbernier Disaster, deliberately orchestrated by Armand IV to bankrupt the last fortunes of the Eastern nobles, she need not have lived out such a disgraceful existence.

He still did not know the true cause of his mother’s death. Was it the unbearable weight of a life so painful that it stopped her heart? Or, as whispered in secret gossip, was it the cruel revenge of a lady from the imperial house directed at her husband’s paramour, toward whom he was obsessed?

He despised himself. He loathed not only himself but also his relatives, parasites who had survived by sucking the blood of vulnerable women.

However, he hated Grand Duchess Alienor, who had humiliated and killed his mother, and the imperial family that had aided her with equal intensity.

Frankly, he did not know. He did not even know which side he was trying to destroy through all of this.

He did not even know who he truly wished to take vengeance upon.

“I am not attempting to instill fear. I am merely stating the facts as they are. To speak plainly, the only reason I have allowed you to live is due to my own personal favor. Regrettably, you have just demonstrated before my eyes why you ought not to leave this place.”

“The weather is cold, yet a frog croaks somewhere. It has not yet frozen to death, it seems.”

“…I hope that during your stay here you will be at peace. Since you are a guest under our care, at the very least you shall be treated as such.”

Duke La Mer offered a bitter smile to Eugène, whose tone was coldly mocking to the point of childishness, and rose from his seat. But Eugène did not even bother to reply anymore.

The Duke gave a slight, formal bow and turned away. Eugène remained silent, glaring at the man. As Duke La Mer left the room, the back of his head burned with discomfort from the sheer intensity of the glare directed at him. It felt as though a beast, crouched for attack, was observing him from behind.

But had he turned his head and seen what Eugène was doing, he would have been even more shocked. The chains, pulled taut with immense force, barely held his body in place.

However, the chains were not a weapon, and no matter how strong Eugène was, he could not break the iron links with sheer arm strength alone. Soon, the door closed, and from the outside came the sound of a key turning, as if it had been locked.

From then on, Eugène was entirely alone.

Only then did he finally allow himself to relax, letting his shoulders sag. Perhaps from the excessive exertion, his limbs ached, and the muscles across his back tensed painfully. His throat stung from shouting at the top of his lungs, the back of his head still burned, and, as if from the fever rising in his body, his headache worsened.

Eugène lifted his heavy arms, showing the first signs of muscle pain, to check his wounds once more, then returned to the bed with the chains clanking. When he collapsed onto it in exhaustion, the long-unwashed bedding stirred up dust with every movement.

Well, I have made it this far…

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***

…Is this the third day?

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All the windows were blocked, yet the persistent draught still seeped in, filling the room with cold. The unheated room was hardly any warmer than the outside.

To stay warm, Eugène had wrapped himself in every worn blanket he possessed and lay upon the cold bed. Three days had already passed since his absurdly executed abduction. He had not seen the Duke of La Mer since the first day, yet through these past days, he had learned all he needed about how the man treated his “guests.”

It was a hospitality devoid of any generosity.

Meals were provided twice a day, consisting only of bread and soup, and even then in meager portions. Water came in a single pitcher each day, and there was no means of replenishment, let alone for washing.

Most vexing of all was the absence of firewood. Late autumn nights approached temperatures close to early winter. But the servants did not provide any fire during the night, leaving Eugène to endure the frigid darkness, relying on a single thin blanket.

Even without this, it was already difficult to maintain body heat, as heavy iron weights were strapped to his hands and feet. But the treatment he had received was so harsh that even someone as robust as he found it hard to endure. In summer, it might not have been so severe, but given the season, he could feel his strength gradually draining with each passing day.

Rustle. Rustle.

But Eugène was not concerned with his weakening body at the moment. In the darkness, with no candle to light his way, he quietly glimmered with contemplative focus. It was the third day. The final day of the promise.

And still, there had been no news from the other party.

Though the letter had been sent unilaterally, he had expected the deadline to be honored. The other party was indebted to him, and not just a trivial debt, but a monumental one that had to be repaid if they did not intend to see him ever again.

– I will trust you one last time. But remember, this is the final chance I am granting you.

Eugène recalled the words he had written in the letter and pondered deeply. Even upon reconsideration, it did not seem lacking. Given the long acquaintance between them, the other party would surely have understood that his message was a final ultimatum.

Then what could the problem be? Surely it was not that his tailing had failed, leaving him unable to determine this location correctly…? Though unlikely, it was all he could think about, and eventually even that worry began to gnaw at him.

If that were the case, the situation had grown serious. Without the assistance of the ally he had expected, he would have to achieve his original purpose, even if it meant breaking the chains with nothing but a fork and a knife.

Rustle. Rustle. Rustle.

There was no way of knowing the circumstances outside; all he could do was speculate. He had been pondering for some time whether his plan might be compromised when the recurring sound jolted him to attention. A noise he had once ignored could not be dismissed repeatedly.

At first, he thought it was a rat. The room was so high it was almost like an attic, and rats were known to infest it nightly. But the sound did not come from the ceiling; it came from the fireplace.

What was unusual was not just the sound. Though the darkness made it hard to see clearly, he could hear clumps of old dust and soot falling from within the chimney. And before he realized it, a definite presence could be felt inside.

Eugène, still lying on the bed, slowly sat up and fixed his gaze on the fireplace. After a moment, a small foot, blackened with soot, suddenly appeared and waved through the air. The foot searched hesitantly for a surface, only belatedly finding the floor.

The child’s ankles jutted out from short trousers, and the knees were thin, bony, and emaciated. Small enough to climb down the chimney, the child flattened his body like a wary lizard, carefully surveying his surroundings. Only his eyes gleamed atop a face smudged black with chimney soot.

The gaze was unmistakable. He had seen it somewhere before.

“…Gecko?”

The sharp, cunning eyes, the gaunt outline, and even the characteristic movements. Eugène’s hopes for a capable ally evaporated when he realized the newcomer was nothing more than an absurdly young boy, and he called out his name in surprise.

“Shh! Be quiet. You will wake everyone in the house!”

Even though no one else was around, the startled boy pressed a finger to his lips in a sharp warning, then hurried over to Eugène’s side.

“What is the matter? Surely Chasseur did not send you here?”

Up close, the boy’s identity became even clearer. It was indeed Gecko. He rubbed his ticklish nose with the back of his hand, blackened from the ashes, and spoke brusquely.

“Who else would it be, My Lord? I now serve exclusively under him.”

“Chasseur joined hands with a child like you?”

Eugène asked harshly, thinking that if the man had truly done something so reckless, he would kick him squarely in the backside upon seeing his face. Even for a man who cared so much about his own safety, this was too much. He sent a completely clueless child in his place into a perilous situation where he should have stepped foot himself.

However, Gecko, apparently unbothered by the question, raised his chin cheekily and glimmered with defiance.

“What does age have to do with anything? If a person has the ability, they will be respected anywhere.”

The boy retorted boldly, but he never stood within Eugene’s reach. Even in the darkness, he seemed to have grasped the fact that Eugene was bound by chains.

He had plenty to say to this child he kept running into by accident, but such meddling was hardly what was needed right now. Letting out a deep sigh, Eugène cautiously glanced outside to check for any movement, and when he sensed nothing, he quietly spoke.

“Is Chasseur outside?”

“Of course. He has been here for three days already. But he could not find any way to slip in, so he sent me.”

His fear that the tail might have been lost was, it seemed, nothing but needless worry.

“He could not find a way to slip in…? Are there others staying in this mansion?”

“Others? There are a whole bunch of thugs swarming all over the place. Their vigilance is so tight that if you tried to sneak in and got caught, it felt like they would skin you alive.”

Gecko, having had to crawl down the chimney in the middle of the night to avoid their eyes, sniffed sharply in utter indignation and muttered complaints. However, for Eugène, it was nothing short of a blessing.

Whatever Duke La Mer had ordered, no one ever came near his room. Now and then, he sensed movement downstairs, but even that was not frequent, and the only person he had seen while staying here was the elderly man who brought his meals morning and night.

Because of that, Eugène had spent the past three days in a state of anxious tension, worried that this might not be the place he was looking for after all.

“My wrists and ankles are in shackles. Can you get these off?”

“Give me a moment. Lord Chasseur said this would probably happen, so he gave me lockpicks.”

Gecko pulled a thin piece of metal from inside his clothes and removed Eugène’s cuffs. His skill was not yet polished, so it took him longer than it would have taken Hunter, but as far as the end result was concerned, his work was decent enough.

Eugène got up and rolled his long‑stiffened wrists until they cracked. Watching him, Gecko stuffed the sliver of metal back into the filthy bundle of rags he carried and chattered away with questions.

“I can simply go back out through the chimney, but what about you, My Lord? Are you going to come out that way with me?”

No, that would not do. With a frame that size, he would certainly get stuck halfway…The boy studied Eugène’s shoulders, broad as a whale’s back, and frowned in earnest. But Eugène had no intention of indulging the child’s absurd expectation.

“No. I did not summon Chasseur here in order to escape. I have another purpose.”

He spoke the truth. If all he needed was an escape plan, he would not have bothered assigning someone to follow him. What mattered was not the tailing itself, but the ability to meet discreetly, away from prying eyes. And in that regard, even the Anti‑Chevaliers could not match a fence.

However, to the child who came unaware of the circumstances, the words hit like a bolt from the blue. Gecko stared up at him, aghast.

“… Pardon?”

“I shall be stepping out for a moment. Wait for thirty minutes. There is something I must send through Chasseur.”

Eugène climbed down from the bed with cautious movements and made for the door. He had seen the servant lock it with a key whenever he came and went, but unless it had been specially altered, it was only natural for it to open from the inside.

Gecko opened the door as a matter of course and stared, dumbfounded, at Eugène’s retreating back as he slipped out without a sound like some enormous cat.Huh? This is not the order I was given…?The boy was left blinking in astonishment at the turn of events.

Had he not been told that if he failed to get this man out safely, thatterrifying someone, whether the new boss or lord or whatever he was, would smash him to pieces? But by the time he came to his senses, Eugène was already gone, far too quickly to grab.

Has that noble gone completely mad after being kept prisoner? If he does not want to meet a grisly end, he ought to run for his life at once. This is absolutely not the time…

The cheeky child looked ready to cry as he stamped his foot in panic. Then a noise came from the ceiling, and he clapped both hands over his own mouth in fright. Even the ragged sound of his breathing felt dangerous. Heart racing, Gecko paced in helpless circles, his small head filled to the brim with only one thought: perhaps he ought to flee on his own.

It was the beginning of a grueling wait, where a single second felt like a minute, and a single minute felt like an hour.

T/N:Here’s a long chapter for the long wait! We’ll now be moving onto the final arc T-T Will be trying my best to finish the novel by this year!! Thank you so much for reading!