Chapter 105

Chapter 105
It was hardly a shock.

Being the third-born of the House of Valdek, Lucian’s entire social standing and power base would evaporate if he were severed from his lineage. Jordi likely assumed that if his coup succeeded and he blocked Lucian from returning, the matter would be settled.

However, the variables shifted entirely if Lucian held the titles of Master of Asagrim and Duke of Grimaldi.

Even as a family exile, he would still hold the authority of a sovereign lord—and there was far more profit to be extracted from a man of that rank.

‘I anticipated this move. It’s expected. The only thing that truly puzzles me is how long it took that idiot to catch wind of it.’

By the time Jordi had allowed Hans to leave of his own volition, Lucian had already been granted Asagrim. Hans, naturally, had felt a sense of relief once he was safely beyond the clan’s immediate grasp.

Yet, the moment Hans stepped foot in Asagrim, Jordi dispatched agents to seize him and drag him back.

‘Had he known the second the Emperor signed the decree, Hans never would have been permitted to leave. On the flip side, if he’d found out only after I was officially installed, Hans would have been long gone, far beyond his reach.’

Jordi had stumbled upon the truth at a clumsy interval between those two points. His intelligence was quick, certainly, but it wasn’t instantaneous.

Yet, conversely, he had launched his coup the very second Grand Duke Sigmund drew his last breath.

‘The timing doesn’t align. Why was the news of my appointment to Asagrim so delayed, while the report of Father’s passing reached him the moment it happened?’

“My Lord, is something weighing on your mind?”

Eisen’s query snapped Lucian out of his thoughts. Realizing he couldn’t untangle the knot alone, Lucian decided to consult his companions.

“The truth is, Jordi’s timing is incredibly inconsistent.”

“Inconsistent in what way?”

“If you look at the sequence of Jordi’s maneuvers, the speed at which he receives information varies wildly.”

Lucian laid out his reasoning with practiced calm. His brother’s spy network was formidable, yet it lacked true real-time synchronization. There was a glaring gap between the treatment of Hans—who was freed only to be hunted down later—and the start of the coup, which began precisely as the Grand Duke fell. The discrepancy was too large to ignore.

“Don’t you find it peculiar? I can see the ‘why’ behind his actions, but I can’t figure out ‘how’ he’s getting his data for the timing to be this erratic.”

“Actually, I believe I have an explanation.”

“What? You do?!”

Lucian and the gathered retainers turned to Eisen with startled expressions. Eisen met their intense stares with a somewhat pained smile.

“Such things are common on the front lines. There are moments when news of a battle reaches you weeks late, and others where you hear a soldier’s dying breath as it happens. Usually, it comes down to the status and position of the source.”

“Are you suggesting he has two different sets of informants?”

“It is more a matter of how high-ranking the source is. The passing of His Grace the Grand Duke is an event that would be common knowledge almost immediately. However, your appointment as the Master of Asagrim was a private, unilateral choice made by His Majesty the Emperor.”

Lucian went still as he processed Eisen’s insight.

So long as he didn’t meddle in the internal politics of other noble houses, the Emperor’s word was absolute law. He had the sole right to gift any vacant territory under the crown’s direct supervision. In such cases, a report is usually only filed after the fact, meaning the news filters out to the public slowly.

“The source isn’t an inner circle member privy to the Emperor’s most private thoughts, but they are likely in the very next tier of nobility. After all, the Emperor spoke to you on a field of battle, not during a public ceremony at the Imperial Palace.”

“Does anyone come to mind who fits that description?”

“Several names fit, but I think I can narrow the list down. The Second Young Master left behind a few breadcrumbs before I made my exit.”

Breadcrumbs? From Jordi?

As the group looked on in bewilderment, Eisen released a heavy breath. Then, lowering his gaze, he began to recount the tale in a somber tone.

He described the scene of his departure from the family estate.

—

Eisen didn’t have a specific role or daily chores within the House of Valdek.

He was well into his twilight years, and his youthful achievements outweighed the combined efforts of a hundred lesser men. It was expected that he be treated as a venerated elder, moving only when the Head of the House gave a personal command.

Even so, as a man of the blade, he couldn’t bear total idleness. He spent most of his days in the secluded garden behind the training grounds, treating the quiet space as his personal outpost. After taking Felicia under his wing as a foster daughter, he had found purpose in training his successor, but even she had departed to follow Lucian.

He had planned to pass his days in quiet contemplation until they returned from the Northern campaign.

But on this particular day, a thick, suffocating tension hung over the manor—so heavy it ruined the flavor of his morning tea.

“…Something is wrong.”

Eisen narrowed his eyes, looking toward the training area. The air, usually crisp, was now thick with a sudden, violent bloodlust.

True to his intuition, no sooner had his cup touched the saucer than the silence was shattered by screams.

“Fall back! We are only here to root out the hidden traitors!”

“You are the traitors! You’re the ones starting this!”

“It isn’t a rebellion when the Second Young Master is simply claiming his birthright!”

So, the Second Young Master had finally struck.

It wasn’t a shock; Eisen had seen the shadows of this coming. Joshua lacked the spine for such a gamble, and since the other two brothers were away, Jordi was the only one capable of orchestrating a takeover.

Eisen shut his eyes as the shouting grew louder.

‘What is the best course of action?’

If the violence had reached this far, the primary objectives of the coup must have already been achieved. Even if Eisen intervened, the tide had likely turned. They would have secured the Fourth Young Master and the noble ladies hours ago.

Furthermore, the lines between ally and enemy were now hopelessly blurred.

‘…How bitter. Allies and enemies. Just yesterday, every one of them wore the Valdek colors.’

“Sir Eisen, I apologize for the intrusion.”

A polite, measured voice drifted from behind the training hall. The sounds of struggle seemed to have died down while he was lost in thought.

The gate connecting the training grounds to the garden creaked open, admitting a band of armed men. Eisen looked at the leader and spoke softly.

“Sir Handrik.”

“It has been quite a while. I hoped not to disturb the Sword Saint, but some of the insurgents have fled in this direction….”

“Save it. I can see the shape of things. Drop the pretenses and tell me what you want.”

Handrik winced at the freezing edge in Eisen’s voice. Steeling his nerves against those piercing eyes, Handrik raised his voice.

“You are to remain here for the next few days. We will ensure you have every comfort.”

“Ha, do you think by keeping me still, you can make the world believe I support this? The Second Young Master has a penchant for these transparent games.”

“Mind your tongue. Regardless of your status, Sir Eisen, any further slander against the future Grand Duke will be….”

“The future Grand Duke?”

Vwoom.

The air grew heavy as a wave of killing intent locked onto Handrik. He felt as though a single syllable more would result in a blade splitting his skull before he could blink.

“The successor is chosen by His Grace the Grand Duke, not by a whelp like you. If you don’t watch your mouth, I will be the one to remove your head and display it on the ramparts.”

Under the Sword Saint’s shadow, every knight, Handrik included, broke into a cold sweat. It was in that moment of tension that a new voice cut through.

“Father is gone, Sir Eisen.”

Jordi stepped out from behind the wall of knights. Eisen blinked, momentarily stunned by the declaration.

“That is unlike you, Second Young Master.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why tell a falsehood that is destined to be unmasked so quickly?”

“You believe I am lying?”

“Naturally. In a full-scale war, perhaps—but to suggest he fell in a minor skirmish against rebels? He is a man who leads from the front, but he is also a man who knows exactly when to hold and when to strike.”

“Variables exist in every battle. I received word he was killed yesterday by the treachery of those cowards. What limits are there for those who would violate the Grand Accord?”

“…Yesterday?”

Eisen’s eyes sharpened at the detail. The distance to the front lines was immense; to claim news had traveled that fast…

“Still skeptical? In an age where the crown utilizes enchanted relics to cross the continent in a heartbeat and knights shatter entire battalions, do you think there isn’t a single artifact capable of sending a message?”

“Are you claiming you possess such a device?”

“Let’s just say I have found a very helpful associate.”

“I have no idea what this associate told you to spark this madness.”

“Information of the highest importance. Such as how Father perished without naming an heir, and how the Emperor is currently faking a will to install Tristan as the next Head.”

Eisen watched Jordi in a long silence. He couldn’t determine if the young man was genuinely convinced or merely lost in his own lies. Seeing that look, Jordi gave a dark grin.

“Sir Eisen, why do you think I would risk this? Would I have moved if I thought Father was coming home? If I had to face his fury, I would lose everything.”

“….”

“Right now, you are the one hiding from the truth, not me. Father is dead on the battlefield. He died without naming a successor!”

That final shout was desperate. Seeing Jordi’s mask slip, Eisen realized the news was legitimate. His brow furrowed at the heavy realization of the Grand Duke’s passing.

“Second Young Master.”

“That’s enough. You are clearly overwhelmed. Stay here, rest, and find your composure.”

“Move. I am leaving.”

“And go where? Your duty and your family are right here!”

“The master I serve is not you. While he drew breath, His Grace the Grand Duke looked only toward the First or Third sons.”

“…!”

Jordi’s features twisted into a mask of demonic rage. Even if it was a truth he already suspected, hearing it confirmed by the Sword Saint was a different kind of blow. To have it stated so bluntly in front of his subordinates was humiliating.

“Sir Eisen!”

“Out of my way.”

Fwaaaa!

Refusing to listen further, Eisen took a step forward. A shimmering blue aura of mana erupted around him. It was a clear warning: he would use violence if they persisted.

Seeing that Eisen would not be swayed, Jordi gnashed his teeth.

“If you leave me no choice, then so be it.”

“Will you attempt to block me? Or will you try to kill me?”

“Neither.”

Snap!

“…!?”

As Jordi spoke, jagged black vines surged out from the shadows of the nearby flowerbeds. These dark tentacles tore through Eisen’s thigh in a heartbeat. Seeing the blood spray, Jordi spoke with a cruel sympathy.

“I am simply assisting in your recovery. You won’t be able to travel with a wound like that….”

“Hmph!”

Crash!

Before the sentence could finish, Eisen flexed his leg and slammed his foot into the earth. The black vines didn’t move an inch; it was as if they were trapped within his very muscle. As the shadows tried to pull away, Eisen used the tension to propel himself forward.

“You arrogant brat!”

Boom!

—Skreeeeeeee!

Snatching a wooden training blade from a nearby rack mid-leap, Eisen brought it down on the shadow of a stone pillar. The ground shattered and dust filled the air, followed by a gut-wrenching shriek.

Dark, oily blood erupted from the shadows, and a hooded figure crawled out with mangled hands.

“Gah… Argh!”

Despite being several yards from the point of impact, the shadow-dweller was in a state of total collapse. The shockwave of mana from the blow had reduced their bones and organs to a pulp. The figure collapsed, coughing up a pool of black bile from beneath their hood before going still.

“….”

“….”

The onlookers watched Eisen with wide-eyed terror. He had already yanked the black vines from his flesh and tossed them aside as if they were mere splinters. Steam was rising from the wound on his thigh, which should have been a crippling injury.

After testing the weight on his leg, Eisen addressed Jordi once more.

“You were saying something about recovery, Second Young Master?”