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[Translator - Kiteretsu]
[Proofreader - Kyros]
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Chapter 35
“I hope that the House of Tyramin will put aside its resentment toward our House of Khazar moving forward.”
“!!”
“Rather than being like enemies baring their fangs at each other, I hope we can foster a relationship of proper growth through competition and reconciliation. As befits kin.”
Count Tyramin couldn’t respond—Chris’s words had clearly caught him off guard.
The two count houses.
Their relationship had been strained for a long time.
At first, it had been typical rivalry between branch families, but now it had escalated far beyond that.
They had become something close to mortal enemies.
And there was a reason for that.
“Isn’t this feud between our two houses only beneficial to the main house?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“You must know, don’t you? That the reason our two houses came into conflict was due to the main house’s covert meddling. They didn’t want the branch families joining forces, since that would pose a threat to their position—so they manipulated us.”
Count Tyramin drew in a breath.
Chris was speaking the truth.
It was a common tactic.
To solidify control, powers often pit their subordinates against each other.
Both counts had come to realize it.
They had belatedly understood that they had been dragged into the main house’s scheme—but by then, the rift between the two families had already grown too wide.
“…Are you saying you intend to rebel against the main house?”
“Of course not. I have no such intention. I’m just saying there’s no need to let ourselves be manipulated by the main house’s schemes when we know they’re wrong. I pledged my loyalty, but that doesn’t mean I’ve become some wretched dog.”
“…You’ve changed.”
Chris responded with a smile instead of words.
A confident smile.
A smile that said more than a hundred words could—a clear sign of how much Chris had changed.
‘Just what…’
Count Tyramin fell silent.
He knew the old Chris well.
How could a worthless delinquent have changed so completely?
His abilities were astonishing, and even his character was admirable.
To think he was trying to unite two feuding houses through this opportunity.
He was only fifteen years old, but he was no ordinary boy.
“Very well, we’ll do as you say. I’ll contact Count Khazar separately soon. As you said, there’s no reason to keep feuding when we both know it’s based on something wrong.”
“Thank you.”
“So, is that all?”
Count Tyramin looked directly at Chris.
“I get the feeling there’s something else you want from me.”
As expected, despite his size, he was a sly old snake.
He’d seen right through Chris.
“Yes, you’re right. I do have something else I wish to ask of you, Uncle.”
Chris subtly changed how he addressed him—calling him “Uncle.”
Count Tyramin noticed it, but didn’t point it out.
“I wish to become a Noble Heir. Please support me.”
“!!”
Count Tyramin’s eyes widened.
“Noble Heir? Are you serious? You’re from a branch family.”
“As far as I know, there’s no house law that says a branch family member can’t become Noble Heir.”
“Do you think that’s a valid argument? Even without a written law, not once in the history of the Dark Demonic House has a branch family member become Noble Heir.”
Count Tyramin was right.
It wasn’t explicitly forbidden by the house laws.
But that didn’t mean it was possible.
The fact that it had never happened in history proved how difficult it was.
However—
“So, do you think it’s impossible?”
“!!”
“I believe I can do it.”
Count Tyramin couldn’t say a word in response.
Of course, Chris had shown remarkable merit within the House of Tyramin this time.
He had seen how exceptional Chris was after shedding his former self.
But a branch family member becoming Noble Heir?
No—being Noble Heir wasn’t even the real issue.
To declare oneself Noble Heir meant to challenge for the position of next head of house.
It was an impossible task.
Yet—
“I don’t believe I’m chasing a vain dream. In fact, I believe I have a very real chance.”
“…Why is that?”
“Because I’m far more capable than the other Noble Heir candidates.”
Absurd confidence.
But it was Chris’s honest truth.
Born into a branch family?
An unfair starting point?
The pressure from the main family?
What did any of that matter?
He would overcome it all with ability.
Above all, his final goal was the summit of the Magus Empire.
The competition to become Noble Heir was nothing more than the starting line.
“Hah.”
Count Tyramin let out a hollow laugh.
It was the kind of talk that anyone else would mock—but strangely, he couldn’t bring himself to laugh at it.
There was something oddly compelling in Chris’s confidence.
An unshakable belief that he would succeed.
No—looking at the arrogant certainty in Chris’s expression, it made one wonder if, perhaps, it really was possible.
As Count Tyramin remained silent, unable to answer easily, Chris delivered the final blow.
“More than anything… doesn’t it anger you, Uncle?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m talking about the Marquess of Langham.”
“!!”
Count Tyramin’s expression hardened.
The Marquess of Langham.
The one currently leading the Dark Demonic House on behalf of the absent Patriarch Nordion.
It was the Marquess of Langham who manipulated events to drive a wedge between the Tyramin and Khazar families.
“He must’ve seen us branch families as nothing more than watchdogs guarding the gate, which is why he pulled such tricks. Of course, it’s not something we can formally protest.”
Chris spoke with a weighty undertone.
“If I take the heir’s seat, that’ll be revenge enough.”
“!!”
The current most promising candidate for succession, the Second Noble Heir, Ashid de Baron, was the son of the Marquess of Langham.
Not just him— the First Noble Heir, the First Noble Daughter, and the Third Noble Heir were all children of the Marquess. Knocking them out and becoming the next Head of House would indeed be sufficient revenge.
“…An absurd notion.”
“Is that so?”
“But it’s strange. I’m sure it’s impossible, yet I find myself wanting to root for you.”
Count Tyramin shook his head, then looked at Chris with piercing eyes.
“Here’s my answer. For now, it’s a no. Your words sound nice, but you haven’t proven anything yet. You’re not qualified to receive the support of House Tyramin.”
Chris read between the lines.
That wasn’t a “no.”
“You’re telling me to prove my worth.”
“That’s right. If you demonstrate that you’re truly worthy of becoming the noble heir, then House Tyramin will stand behind you.”
Chris grinned.
“It won’t take long. Please wait for it.”
It was a conditional acceptance, but that didn’t matter.
He would prove his qualifications with ease.
With that, their conversation came to a close — and Count Tyramin offered an unexpected additional reward.
“Take the Grey Pill.”
“Uncle?”
It was the item Chris had originally planned to request as compensation!
“You earned it, so it’s only right that you take it. Consider it a gift from your uncle to his nephew.”
Chris didn’t refuse.
“I’ll gratefully accept. And if you have any more gifts to give, I’ll gladly take them.”
“What? Hahaha!”
Count Tyramin laughed heartily — and actually gave him one more gift.
A beast summoning stone.
An artifact that allows one to store a magical beast and summon it at will.
Since it was difficult to keep a beast by one’s side at all times, magi who had mastered summoning arts would often store them in stones like this.
“It can store a beast of up to 4-star.”
“Thank you very much.”
Chris said it with genuine gratitude.
The higher the grade of a summoning stone, the more its price increases exponentially.
A 4-star summoning stone was certainly worthy of being called a treasure.
‘I can’t handle a 4-star beast just yet, but it’ll be useful later.’
Chris had managed to control Karazov, but that was only temporary — it wasn’t feasible to use him in actual combat.
To control a beast in battle, one had to be able to command its every move as if it were an extension of one’s own body.
In time, that would become possible.
Count Tyramin brought up another topic.
“By the way, how did you fight the hellspawn?”
“……”
Count Tyramin tilted his head.
“It should’ve been impossible for you to stand against a hellspawn with your current strength. How did you hold out until it was reverse-summoned?”
Count Tyramin clearly couldn’t even imagine that Chris might have erased the hellspawn.
Naturally so. It was supposed to be impossible.
He simply assumed Chris had held out and fought until the hellspawn was pulled back to Gehenna after a set duration.
Even just surviving a fight against a hellspawn was an incredible feat.
“Well…”
Using the Shine Blade was a secret that had to be kept no matter what.
Chris was about to come up with a vague excuse, but then — a completely unexpected voice interrupted.
“I believe I should be the one to ask that question.”
“!!”
Chris and Count Tyramin both froze.
Neither had noticed any presence approaching, yet someone had suddenly appeared beside them.
And as Count Tyramin recognized the man’s face, his eyes widened in shock.
“Chief Steward?”
“Yes, it’s been a while, Count.”
Pale as moonlight.
With a sculpted smile, the man bowed his head.
“I am Simon, Chief Steward of the Dark Demonic House. I’ve come to see Young Master Christian.”
* * *
Chief Steward.
That was Simon’s position.
“…Then I’ll leave you two to talk.”
“Thank you for your consideration.”
With a stiff expression, Count Tyramin rose from his seat.
He clearly didn’t like Simon.
Chris understood Count Tyramin’s reaction.
‘He really does give off an unsettling impression.’
People have instincts.
At a glance, you can tell whether someone is good or bad.
There’s no evidence behind it, but often, it turns out to be accurate.
In that sense, Chief Steward Simon definitely didn’t seem like a good person.
It was their first meeting, but the air around him reeked of danger.
‘But… is this really our first meeting? Why does he seem so familiar?’
Christian tilted his head slightly.
It was clearly his first time seeing the man — and yet, strangely, his face looked familiar.
It wasn’t just his imagination.
He had definitely seen that face before.
A face exactly like that one.
‘Did I meet him during the Age of Ruins?’
Chris quietly mouthed the name Simon.
Even the name felt familiar.
It wasn’t the first time he had heard it.
It was a name he’d encountered in his previous life.
Simon… Simon…? No way—could it be?
A sudden thought flashed through his mind, and Chris’s eyes widened.
He remembered!
Where he had heard the name Simon before.
“Is something wrong, Young Master?”
The Simon in front of him tilted his head.
“…It’s nothing.”
“Hm?”
Chris did his best not to show how shaken he was.
His heart was pounding.
Simon hadn’t been a particularly famous figure during the Age of Ruins.
But there were several extremely notorious individuals connected to him.
Simon… he was the master of the Blood Shadow Demon Corps.
The Blood Shadow Demon Corps.
A deranged organization responsible for indiscriminate slaughter and acts of terror, with no regard for whether it was the Magus Empire or the Faction of Light.
Their leader was a 8-star demon who later reached 9-star, becoming the tenth Demon King near the end of the Age of Ruins.
Because of that leader, the Hero’s party nearly met their end on multiple occasions.
And Simon had been that monster’s teacher.
That’s not all.
Chris swallowed hard.
In truth, being the master of the Blood Shadow Demon Corps’ leader might pale in comparison to something else.
Simon’s other identity—
He’s a direct blood relative of the Blood-Drenched Demon King.
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[Translator - Kiteretsu]
[Proofreader - Kyros]
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