Chapter 17. The Enemy

It happened in an instant. Unable to withstand the sudden impact, the man's body fell backward. Beric mounted him and mercilessly pummeled him.

Punch! Punch!

“Uh...”

The others standing nearby watched the scene in a daze for a moment. No matter how sudden the attack was, this man wasn't the type to be knocked down by just one punch. He seemed like the kind who would grab Beric by the hair and throw him again at any moment.

But he was being beaten one-sidedly.

“Hey, stop it! Stop it!”

“Are you crazy! What are you doing! Beric!”

“Is this guy out of his mind!”

However, the man's reaction was strange. He lay there motionless, as if unconscious, collapsing pitifully. Only then did his companions rush to Beric in panic.

“Get back-!”

“Snap out of it!”

Beric's breathing was rough and irregular. He seemed to be on a rampage, as if he had taken some kind of drug. It took more than five trainees to finally pull him off.

“What are you doing!”

“What's going on?”

Deo and the instructors rushed over at the commotion.

The hulking man sprawled on the ground and Beric, who was thirsting for blood, were a sight that was hard to believe had been caused by just fists. If Beric had been the one lying on the ground, it would have made more sense.

“Haa... Haa... Hahaha!”

“He's completely gone mad! Instructor!”

“Beric just suddenly attacked!”

Beric, lying flat on the ground, burst into laughter. His expression of relief was quite a sight. The trainees who were pinning him down frowned in disgust. The instructor lifted Beric's chin with his foot.

“Beric.”

“Ah. Damn, this is it.”

“Beric!”

“You show your back to me in the middle of a sparring match, and you're a fool!”

His fierce roars were bone-chillingly intense. The instructor kicked his face as if it wasn't worth responding, and Beric's pained groan echoed.

“Take that one to the infirmary, and tie up Beric and take him to the punishment room.”

Everyone moved in unison at the instructor's command. Ian's gaze met Beric's as he was dragged away. Unlike Ian's calm expression, Beric's eyes were excited, as if he had just discovered a treasure.

‘Definitely a madman.’

Ian agreed with the trainees' assessment. Beric seemed to be one of the most insane swordsmen he had ever seen.

On the other hand, it also meant that he had no fear in battle. A warrior who fears death has no equal.

“Sir Ian.”

“Ah.”

Deo approached Ian, frowning.

“What did that guy do?”

The tone was not one of concern. It was more like a formal question. Ian brushed off his sleeve and replied.

“Nothing. He just got a mouthful of insults.”

“...We'll have to wrap up today, unfortunately. Lord Chel's condition and the chaos in the training ground.”

Chel was lying in the shade, catching his breath. His plump belly rose and fell with effort. It was just a matter of moving, after all.

Moreover, the blood pooled where the man had fallen, and the sound of whips and screams from somewhere was terrifying.

Chel realized once again that the training ground was not a place for him.

* * *

The next day.

The third official luncheon with Sir Mollin began. The flowers in the garden were in full bloom, making the surroundings even more vibrant. Mollin, Mac, and Degoir took the lead in the meal, much more relaxed than before.

“So, I asked the young lady for a favor at that time.”

“Ah, I've heard that story.”

“I'm sure Lady Mary knows about it too.”

There were no cryptic remarks or power struggles with Derga. There was no sign of any attempt to test Ian with tricky questions. The change was clearly due to their secret agreement.

After a long silence, Derga finally spoke.

“Sir Mollin.”

“Yes, Lord Brats.”

“Has Ian shown you around the estate well?”

There were suspicious aspects, but no concrete evidence. Chel and Deo knew nothing, and Broche had checked three times despite his busy schedule. There was nothing to criticize.

“The first outing was after lunch, and we went to the park. The weather was so nice that walking was a pleasure. The academic discussion was excellent, and the memories of that day are vivid.”

“...That's fortunate.”

“Oh, and Sir Ian, could you show us the room you mentioned last time?”

Room? What room? Ian briefly recalled the memory.

When Mollin first suggested going out, he had jokingly asked if Ian would show them his room.

Ian smiled at Derga and got up. The steak on his plate was already gone. It would be best to finish the meal and stand up if given permission.

“Is that alright, Father?”

“I would like to join, but...”

Derga wanted to join, but the presence of the secretary at the garden entrance was strong. He seemed to be moving around like a panting dog, indicating that there was urgent business.

“Lady Mary, please see the guests off.”

He inwardly sighed and looked at Lady Mary. His commanding tone was oppressive.

“Yes, I will.”

The atmosphere was even colder after the argument. At least he was maintaining some semblance of decorum in front of the guests.

Lady Mary wiped her hands with a napkin and smiled brightly. It was as if an actor on stage had changed their expression.

“Shall we stand up now?”

“Sure. I enjoyed the meal today. It was delicious.”

As everyone put down their utensils, the servants moved busily. One of them approached Lady Mary as if waiting and whispered something to her.

“Oh.”

“What is it, Lady Mary?”

“I'm sorry. Lady Merelop's attendant is waiting at the front gate.”

“Do you mean Lady Merelop of the neighboring estate?”

Mac asked, slightly surprised. Lady Merelop of the Merelop estate. Given their remote location, she didn't seem to be very well-known in social circles... but from Lady Mary's attitude, it was clear they knew each other well.

Lady Mary smiled in agreement. It was a smile filled with mockery.

“Yes. I have something to receive. Ian, could you show the guests to the room first? I'll have the tea brought in.”

Lady Mary asked for their understanding gracefully. Derga also said his final greetings and went to his office, while Ian led the guests to the annex room.

Creak.

“Indeed, they say a room reflects its owner. It's very vibrant.”

Mac looked around and complimented. The three of them sat on the sofas. Ian pointed to his chest, where the red brooch was, as he brought out parchment and a quill. Everyone knew what the red brooch signified.

“Thank you, Sir Mac.”

“You mentioned practicing your handwriting. May I see it?”

“Of course.”

Mac and Degoir chattered endlessly to fill the silence. There wasn't much time left before Lady Mary arrived. Ian wrote a simple sentence with the quill.

-What should I do?

-Is it possible to enter Lord Derga's study?

-I've been going up there to regenerate mana stones.

The opening line about the office. It was likely related to tax issues, as Ian had expected. Mollin hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully.

-We need to confirm the total grain harvest from the estate and the coal production from the Monne Mountains. Also, the tax rate for farmers from last summer to the present. If copying is too difficult, just write down the numbers and bring them with a seal.

So they do have a coal mine. But it's just coal, so it can't be a significant asset.

Even without a detailed list, a document with a seal could be considered a whistleblower's report, allowing for a forced search.

That's why nobles value seals so much, and why entrusting a seal is a common measure of loyalty.

-Are you saying the Brats family is embezzling taxes?

-For now, it's just a suspicion.

Ian pretended to hesitate and asked.

-Embezzlement is a serious crime that can destroy a family.

A pledge not to destroy the family was necessary.

If Brats Castle were to disappear, Ian's position would disappear as well. Moreover, with Derga's blood in him, he would likely become a palace slave. He would have to dedicate his life to repay the embezzled taxes.

-If I refuse to join the family, Sir Ian, you won't be part of the Brats family. You'll be spared the death penalty and won't have to cross the border. How good is that?

‘Look at them.’

As expected, Mollin didn't give the answer he wanted. He seemed to think Ian wouldn't know how to handle the situation afterward and didn't care much about it.

It seemed they thought that for a commoner from a brothel, this was enough compensation.

‘It's a reasonable choice, but it's a bit troublesome.’

Given his position, Ian couldn't openly demand the family's survival. To bring down Derga, he needed the palace's support. But if he showed too much depth in his thinking, it would be problematic.

“Oh.”

Ian let out an involuntary exclamation while deep in thought. Mac and Degoir turned at the sudden sound.

“Sir Ian?”

“I'm sorry. I bit my tongue.”

“Be careful. Even small wounds can be painful.”

Mollin's concerned tone didn't sound sincere. If he were dragged into this, there would be no way out. Ian refined the plan he had just thought of and wrote.

-Then I have a proposal.

-Please, do as you see fit.

A way to protect himself from the palace's punishment and to secure the estate's ownership. The saying goes, "The enemy of my enemy is my friend." Derga and the palace still had a common enemy.

-I will not join the family, but I will meet the Thousand Li Clan.