The Terminally Ill Young Master is the Mad Dog of the Underworld-Chapter 201

[Translator - Pot ]

[Proofreader - Kawaii ]

Chapter 201: It Takes Talent to Be Hated by Women with That Face

The reception room of Verdzig remained a quiet space that somehow evoked a strange tension.

'It's suffocating, suffocating.'

Verdzig's snake-like eyes were staring intently at me. I ignored them appropriately and took a seat.

'Something seems off.'

I felt that the source of this discomfort might be something else. So I spread my senses delicately and widely.

'To think I can use such refined

mana sense now. I've become stronger far too quickly.'

The level of mastery I've achieved as Allenvert—through learning physical training, cultivation techniques, and all sorts of martial arts including swordsmanship—was rapidly catching up to the lofty peak of Karzan's martial arts.

And at the point where the shadows cast from these two peaks intersect...

'My new martial art is being created.'

Come to think of it, among the skills I've acquired in this life, perhaps the most useful is how to utilize mana sense.

With Ulbhild's teachings, the profound principles of the Seven Stars of the Black Sea Technique, and the concealment technique called Whispering Snow in the Night, I had become qualified as perhaps the most capable scout.

In other words—

"Brother, it seems you have quite a trusted subordinate."

This meant that I could detect, albeit very faintly, the presence of a hidden stranger sitting in with us.

"Ah, impressive. I can see how much stronger you've become."

At my pointed remark, Verdzig nodded as if looking at a student who had passed a test.

"Does it make you uncomfortable that someone is listening to our conversation?"

"I don't have any particular reason to be comfortable with it either."

Verdzig smiled and then commanded into the empty air.

"Reveal yourself, Skella Recrusa."

Then, from within the shadows of the night, a form slowly began to become distinct.

"!"

It was like watching a white paint bleeding into black paper to create an image.

'Wow.'

I almost dropped my jaw.

Truly an astonishing level of concealment technique.

'An assassin?'

Silver-white hair, moon-pale skin, and blood-red eyes.

Too beautiful to be an assassin, yet too chilling to be considered beautiful—

A woman who seemed to have thoroughly suppressed all killing intent within herself was looking at me with indifferent eyes.

"Is she a vampire?"

"That's right."

"Impressive."

The level of concealment that this vampire named Skella had just demonstrated was in no way inferior to the concealment techniques displayed by the brothers of Svaltalfar.

'No, rather...'

Setting aside the level of martial arts and considering just the essence of concealment itself—

The concealment of this vampire, born with an innate familiarity with the night, seemed a dimension higher in quality than that performed by the direct lineage of the assassination clan.

'Unbelievable.'

He had a subordinate of this caliber? While surprising, it also seemed fitting for someone like Verdzig.

But what was most chilling was...

'With this level of concealment possible, she must be capable of performing reconnaissance and espionage at an extraordinary level.'

I thought that perhaps I had been discovered by this man more than I had assumed.

"By the way, Allenvert."

Sure enough.

"Have you met with Haglandere?"

Verdzig casually pierced deeply into my secret.

"..."

I maintained a poker face with superhuman patience. Just like when I was fleecing Ivan at gambling.

"You must have met them, of course."

"Why do you think so?"

I know that this counter-question itself is an admission to the question.

"Because they seem to be waiting for something. It appears they're having trouble with too many 'uninvited guests.'"

It wasn't difficult to understand what he meant.

Haglandere is under attack.

'That means their spirit medicines and herbs are that valuable.'

...And it also means that secrets are being brought to the surface.

'It's also a warning that Verdzig could attack them if he wanted to.'

You're playing a strong move from the start, Verdzig. If we were to compare this to chess, his style had become more aggressive and bold.

"Impressive."

Let me try to change the flow a bit here.

"Was it she who found out?"

I pointed to the vampire, Skella.

"Yes. You must be quite surprised."

Verdzig stroked Skella's chin as if showing her off. As if trying to flaunt his possession.

'Hmm? What's this?'

Something felt strange. Unlike usual, there was a strange obsession and madness in his manner.

"Before, you consistently exceeded my expectations."

That was probably the first defeat Verdzig had ever experienced.

"That's right."

I retorted provocatively.

"I thought you'd been quiet lately, but it seems you've been making thorough preparations beneath the surface."

If the opponent's move is excellent, isn't it proper aristocratic etiquette to compliment it?

Of course, this was also a way to buy time to think more about my answer.

"By the way, brother."

"Speak."

I was planning to turn the tables with a single question.

"Looking at her, it seems she has abilities specialized in reconnaissance."

I asked that based on a strange intuition.

"Why do you think so?"

This counter-question was essentially an acknowledgment of my statement.

"Because being good at concealment alone doesn't make one an excellent spy. Besides, I've heard that some vampires are born with special abilities different from humans."

"Correct. Just as there are humans born with martial talent and those without."

Verdzig nodded.

"Now, look at Skella. What do you think?"

"Well, she's certainly capable. It seems her existence played a decisive role this time—"

"No, that's not what I mean."

"?"

I tilted my head. What was this person trying to say?

"Isn't she beautiful? 'My' Skella, I mean."

"...?"

I blinked in confusion.

'Wait a minute, this guy.'

Now Verdzig's gaze looked different. Could that possibly be, not just obsession and possessiveness, but...?

"This is absurd."

Could it be some twisted affection he harbors for this vampire named Skella?

"Brother."

I asked with an incredulous heart.

"Are you planning to marry her someday?"

Verdzig replied.

"Of course. Though she can't be my first wife."

"...Wow."

That's clearly sincere. Verdzig's eyes were flickering with black flames of obsession.

"This is the first I've heard of a different species, and a vampire at that, in the Grunewald lineage."

"Yes, there has been no precedent."

Verdzig countered.

"But my father married a mountain person and gave birth to you, so what would be wrong with a vampire?"

"Well..."

I scratched my head as I answered.

"I suppose there's nothing wrong with it. Or is there? I'm not sure."

"Haha. You're quite free of prejudice."

Verdzig laughed as if surprised.

But originally, men of the underworld often have fewer prejudices than nobles. To be honest, I've met all kinds of races in the world of night.

'Naturally, you come to understand.'

That just as nobles and commoners are the same people, human races and non-human races aren't all that different.

"But weren't you already in marriage talks with other noble ladies?"

"My mother and the Bergen clan want that. But I haven't yet accepted or even considered it."

"Is that so?"

Then the problem lies elsewhere.

"She doesn't seem interested though?"

Skella Recrusa.

What lurked behind her snow-white expressionlessness was extreme contempt.

"It doesn't matter."

Verdzig declared.

"No, normally it does matter."

I waved my hands and retorted.

"Don't both parties need to like each other to get married?"

"What? Hahaha!"

Verdzig burst into laughter.

"Allenvert, you're naive in strange ways."

"..." frёeωebɳovel.com

I momentarily forgot how to respond.

Well, for a political marriage that might be true, but this isn't even particularly strategic, is it? To take a subordinate who hates him as a wife.

'With looks like a sculpture, why is he like this?'

I thought he might have quite distorted ideas about affection, romance, and such things between men and women.

To be fair, he's too extraordinary a person with too extraordinary a life to have normal romantic feelings...

'Unbelievable.'

To be despised by a woman despite being so handsome. That's quite a talent in its own way, isn't it?

'At least Karzan was an ugly, fierce underworld swordsman.'

This man is a handsome, talented son of a ducal clan. Why can't he live up to his face?

'Damn, suddenly I feel a bit sad.'

Recalling Karzan's life, I quickly shook off a slight feeling of depression.

"Brother, the relationship between you two seems quite strange to me."

I threw a sensitive question.

"Excuse my rudeness, but did you perhaps do something unforgivable to Skella in the past?"

Verdzig readily admitted it.

"Something like that."

'What a piece of trash.'

"What on earth did you do...?"

I asked with contempt—

"To be precise, it would be my maternal clan."

Verdzig smirked.

"Her clan has been bound by contract as vassals—or more accurately, slaves—to the Bergen clan for generations."

"!"

"A lineage subjugated through a hereditary contract."

"Hmm."

That means the Bergen Count clan has been ruling over the Recrusa clan for generations.

'Is such a thing possible?'

If it truly is possible, I suspect the method would be...

Subjugation through the "magic of contracts" that was once used on Gemini.

'I wonder. Even if a great magician like Geninghen were to intervene, would he be unable to do anything about such a contract?'

Or could the shackles be broken with Geninghen's power?

Somehow, I had a feeling that even a great magician's power would struggle to break such a malicious type of magic.

"Allenvert, I should actually thank you."

"What do you mean?"

Verdzig pointed at me.

"Because you attacked me over the matter of Evan, I was able to 'receive' her from my maternal clan as compensation for resolving the situation."

"...A person is not an object."

I said seriously. That was probably because I saw my past life in Skella.

'Wasn't I also the Dark King's discarded blade until death?'

"Allenvert, do you feel sorry for Skella?"

Verdzig asked, reading my expression.

"How could it be pleasant to be destined from birth to become someone's blade?"

"..."

I felt Skella's gaze briefly linger on me before disappearing.

'So she's not completely devoid of emotion.'

Well, perhaps beneath that extremely trained, cold rationality, suppressed emotions might be seething. After all, those raised as assassins learn all sorts of ways to kill their own joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure.

But—

"How can one be a complete human without joy, anger, sorrow, pleasure, and emotions? It's truly cruel."

"...!"

"..."

Different emotions dissolved in the silence of the two people.

'In that regard, perhaps Ghir, that bastard, at least retained more human emotions than his brother.'

Though he's insane.

"Allenvert."

Verdzig smiled enigmatically.

"You are indeed a 'kind' man."

"Rather than kind, please consider me just an emotional man."

"Right."

Verdzig nodded.

"Perhaps it's because you're so emotional that you can seclude yourself for seven years, then suddenly burst out one day as if you've become a different person, and swing about like this."

To that man, that would appear to be my weakness.

But I know that Verdzig's coldness and cunning make people fear him and turn away from him. Ulbhild did, Karl did, and Barclava did so.

'And even Father.'

Therefore, this is also a battle where the two of us compete with our values and beliefs.

"Allenvert."

Verdzig looked straight at me and asked.

"Then is your attempt to join hands again with the survivors of Eisenach—"

He asked as if he obviously knew my plan.

"Not just a strategy to gain the throne, but also because of the emotional reason that you simply miss your clan?"

I remained silent.

That was probably probing. To confirm whether his guess was right or not.

'Certainly sharp.'

Verdzig is a formidable strategist and politician. Based on the pieces Skella gathered, he succeeded in piecing together my intentions. I couldn't help but acknowledge that.

'The situation is clearly unfavorable to me.'

To thoroughly see through someone's intentions. That's no different from starting a war knowing all the enemy's formations, deployments, and operations.

'At this rate, my plans will surely go awry, and Verdzig will reap the benefits.

Using a bit more imagination, it's not impossible for Verdzig to destroy the Bisakino Brotherhood and devour the vacuum left behind.

"Can't you answer?"

Verdzig smiled with pleasure at my silence. He must be tasting victory. That's a clear fact.

Nevertheless, I don't intend to answer.

"Allenvert, I'll admit it. The picture you conceived was truly excellent. Above all—"

He seemed to have more to say.

"The process of you joining hands with that man Zizek in the underworld, intervening in the Bisakino Brotherhood's internal strife to make Nagan the new head—the picture you drew was truly outstanding. If successful, you would have had your own Shadow Blade."

I wasn't too surprised by this statement. I had already resigned myself to being exposed to someone during the process of responding to Huten's attack.

"Now I'll give you a trial, Allenvert."

I see my reflection in Verdzig's eyes.

"Can you withstand all my interference?"

"...Haha."

I couldn't help but laugh. Truly a fierce sword draw, and attacks difficult to break through.

But not to the extent that I couldn't handle them. It was impressive that he had deduced most of my activities and strategies with his wisdom and intuition, but.

'You don't know everything either, Verdzig.'

He's still unaware of my alliance with Rudgarda. And he doesn't know what Father's will is.

"Brother."

"Speak."

I intended to turn the tide with a single question.

"Do you think Father will tolerate your interference?"

Time stopped for a moment.

...Cracks appeared on the snake's face.

[Translator - Pot ]

[Proofreader - Kawaii ]