Chapter 101

“I’m deeply disappointed in you, Pneuve.”

“I have nothing to say, my lord.”

“Against a child who hasn’t even fully grown yet…”

Kukulo Del Conti didn't hide his displeasure.

He stroked his thin lips a couple of times and then poked his question.

“You didn't go easy on him, did you?”

“I gave it my all.”

“Ugh...”

If it were up to his temper, he would have exploded in a fit of rage, but he couldn't.

Pneuve Freira was one of the three guests the Del Conti family was proud of.

He was far too useful to be reprimanded just for losing one duel.

Kukulo was vicious, but he wasn’t stupid.

“Viscount Rampo, you say. I'll remember that name. I don’t know where the ruined Verchellos found a guy like that...”

He decided to investigate the name Viscount Rampo.

It was probably a fake title, but there was no harm in checking. Kukulo stroked his thin mustache.

“Crushing the Verchellos will have to be postponed.”

He had lost a duel he was so sure he would win.

More than one plan had gone awry.

He groaned unintentionally.

“The butler’s nagging is going to be endless.”

The thought of having to discuss the plan all over again made his head ache.

That Bartole, he’s too impertinent for a butler. Pneuve watched Kukulo silently from the side.

“This is a total pain in the ass.”

***

“You worked hard, Serena.”

“Not at all, it's I who am indebted to you, your eminence.”

Bishop Hille's eyes, as he looked at Serena, were warm.

His smile, despite his stern expression, was also warm.

He always felt apologetic.

In his heart, he wanted to stand by the Verchellos, with whom he had a long-standing relationship.

However, his position as a bishop would not allow it.

“Let us go to the city together. Our church carriage is here.”

“It’s alright, your eminence. I have business to attend to nearby.”

“In that case, I will not insist further. I will surely be of help next time.”

“Your words are thanks enough.”

Bishop Hille began to walk away.

Soon, two men in clerical attire appeared and attended to him.

His position as the Bishop of Merion was not low.

He was not an old man who would have agreed to officiate a mere duel if not for his friendship with the Verchellos.

Bishop Hille said he was sorry he couldn't be of more help, but Serena was simply grateful.

If he had not been the officiant of the duel, Kukulo would have surely resorted to foul play.

Something like bribing the judges, for example.

“…Speaking of which, Viscount Rampo.”

Serena slowly turned her head.

“He’s the most dangerous man in all of Merion, they said...?”

Serena de Verchello’s eyes widened.

Her raspberry-colored eyes searched for the victor of the duel but found no one.

She soon realized she was alone.

“…Did he already go back?”

***

A small bell jingled.

It was attached to the door of the Art Gallery Lamponé.

“Welcome, Lady Serena.”

Shion greeted his guest with a face that seemed to ask what had happened.

“How was the great warrior I sent you?”

“…Are you asking because you don’t know?”

Serena wiped the sweat from her forehead.

She had not stopped walking from the duel site, and her breath was ragged.

Shion nonchalantly offered her a chair and a drink, but the girl refused.

Instead, she exclaimed with a hint of indignation.

“You were there! You are that great warrior!”

“Me? I don't know anything about the mysterious Viscount Rampo.”

“You’re not even trying to hide it!”

She sighed in disbelief.

Shion’s shop name, Art Gallery Lamponé.

The name of the mysterious great warrior, Viscount Rampo! Besides, he had even revealed his face.

It wouldn’t be strange at all if Kukulo Del Conti walked by, saw Shion, and thought, 'Wait, is that son of a bitch him?'

“…No, I’m getting too excited. I’m sorry.”

Serena de Verchello caught her breath.

There was something more important than who Viscount Rampo was.

“Thank you so much, Shion.”

She took hold of her skirt and slowly bowed her head.

This was the greatest show of respect a family head of Verchello could offer.

It didn't matter at all that Shion was younger than her.

“The Verchello family is deeply indebted to you.”

“Don't mention it. It was a job for which I was paid, wasn't it?”

“It was a result that couldn’t be obtained with that amount of money.”

She knew it herself.

The pouch of coins she had given Shion didn't even add up to one gold coin.

Compared to the monthly salary of twenty Erta gold coins paid to Del Conti's guest knight, Pneuve Freira, it was mere pocket change.

“Please add the difference to my debt. I will repay you no matter how many years it takes.”

“I don't intend to take any more money from you, my lady.”

“No, please let me repay you.”

The result of this duel was very encouraging for the Verchellos.

It might even mark the end of their long decline and become a stepping stone for their revival.

It was tantamount to a declaration that the Verchellos were not just a name but had hidden potential.

“Lady Serena.”

Shion smiled faintly.

He was still as delicate and beautiful as if he couldn’t even swing a single sword.

“Do you think I... or rather, do you think Viscount Rampo moved for that meager amount of money?”

“…Then why?”

“Let me ask you an impertinent question.”

His smile deepened.

“What do you hope for from the Verchellos, my lady?”

“…That is a very rude question.”

The Verchellos’ situation was dire.

On the surface, they seemed like a fallen old noble family, but in reality, it was even more serious.

They had lost all their family businesses except for one, and they lacked the minimum manpower to maintain it.

Every month, she worried about paying her employees’ salaries and living expenses.

It was an excessive burden for a nineteen-year-old Serena to bear.

Shion must have known the reality of the Verchellos.

Yet he asked what she hoped for from the family. It felt painful to Serena.

Still, she couldn't answer.

“…Its past glory.”

“Is that even possible?”

“…Please stop, Shion.”

How much more impertinent was he going to be?

“I would like to just be grateful; if this continues, I might get angry.”

“Since I’ve already been rude, please let me finish my words.”

Spouting whatever he had to say, regardless of how the other person felt, was one of Shion’s specialties.

No, in fact, it was closer to a hobby.

“How can the Verchellos, a family that can’t even bear its own name, possibly regain its past glory?”

“…I told you to stop!”

Her voice rose without her realizing it.

Serena herself knew better than anyone that it was an impossible task.

The noble Verchellos, one of the two families representing the Bururade Peninsula.

How she longed for and ached for those days.

Even Serena, who had not experienced that time herself...

“Why are you being so rude? I thought you were a more dignified person, Shion!”

“Well. Why do you think so?”

The young head of the Verchellos got angry.

Shion didn't care.

Instead, he raised his index finger to his lips.

“Because I believe it’s possible.”

“…”

She was speechless.

Ripples spread in her raspberry-colored eyes. She slowly parted her lips.

“…What is possible?”

“What else? The Verchellos are regaining their past glory.”

Serena closed her mouth again at the strange forcefulness.

Shion’s words, a blonde boy who was only eighteen years old, held a strange momentum.

“It’s not a difficult task, my lady, there are only a few obstacles.”

“…That’s hard to believe.”

“Yes. I’m sure it is. You don't have to rush.”

Serena’s face was pale.

She looked like she might collapse from exhaustion at any moment. It had been a long day.

“We have plenty of time. We can talk about it over a meal.”

“…”

“Wouldn’t it be exciting just to think about how I, or Viscount Rampo, can help you, my lady?”

His intentions were unreadable.

That strange forcefulness, the smile on his lips, the deep blue eyes—she couldn’t read the meaning of any of it. But his words were sweet.

They were excessively sweet for a nineteen-year-old girl tired from her long struggles.

Serena took a step back.

She almost fell as the strength left her ankles, but Shion caught her.

He held her slender wrist with a soft touch. Serena's face, suddenly holding hands with him, turned the color of raspberries.

“Of course, I will expect something in return, Lady Serena.”

Shion led her to the door.

“Please come find me whenever you feel ready.”

And you should buy the first edition with Viscount Mustas's commentary, shouldn't you?

Shion’s words were sucked into her ears.

Serena walked away as if entranced by something.

“I’ll be waiting with great anticipation.”

***

“I love those raspberry-colored eyes.”

Shion muttered softly after Serena had left.

“What do you think, Amethus?”

“I don't think much of it.”

The jade-eyed man was now beside him.

He had been there from the start, but Serena hadn’t noticed.

When Amethus decided to hide his presence, there was no one in Merion who could find him.

“Anyway, take this, Shion.”

“Oh, !”

“It’s a genuine work by Holst.”

“Good.”

Shion took the painting Amethus handed him and put it in a frame.

I should sell this to Duke Deleone for a high price, he thought.

He chuckled with excitement.

The jade-eyed man looked displeased.

“By the way, how long are you going to keep playing the art dealer?”

“What's wrong? The earnings are consistent. I’ve made more than enough money in the past seven years.”

Shion Pollinglight was a regressor.

He had come back nineteen years in the past and knew the future.

Amethus had the nickname the Diviner.

His keen intuition easily distinguished truth from falsehood. When the two of them worked together, difficult things were rare.

“That’s why I’m asking, Shion.”

Amethus asked sharply.

“We've been hiding for seven years. No matter how much I complained, you just said we had a lot to prepare.”

Shion wiggled his chin.

It was as if he was telling him to continue.

“But now you’re suddenly getting involved in the Verchello duel? With a childish lie like Viscount Rampo? If that’s the case, why were we hiding for seven years?”

“It took you so long to drop the formalities, and now you’re so comfortable, Amethus.”

The Regressor Prince didn’t lose his smile.

“Why did I suddenly reveal myself after hiding for seven years… The answer is in your question.”

Has it been that long since they escaped from the Cordis Empire?

It meant it had been seven years since Kifkos with the gold tooth, Niko Nereyades, the Breath of Light, and the Succession War and Regression.

The regressor, now with an eighteen-year-old body, let out a chuckle.

“Seven years is a long time to be in hiding.”

The jade eyes widened.

“…Is it finally time?”

“Yes. Finally.”

A strange heat radiated from him.

They had made a promise.

They shared a destiny.

They were bound not by trust but by hatred that was like a direction.

The name of that hatred was Cordis.

A master and a servant to topple the empire.

“We’ve gathered a lot of money. We’ve also built connections all over the West. I’ve become a tremendous tycoon, so I could live lavishly for the rest of my life.”

He laughed. The air grew heavy.

Invisible hands swirled around.

Their number was in the hundreds.

Their power was different from when he wielded them in his eleven-year-old body.

This was his true power.

“But what does that have to do with anything, Amethus?”

Seven flames flickered in his blue eyes.

They hadn’t disappeared after seven years; instead, they had grown even more intense.

If that empire remained standing, what could possibly satisfy him?

“Our work begins. So, first and foremost…”

The Regressor Prince and the Diviner faced each other.

“…We must make Shion of Merion known.”

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