Third-Rate Villain Of Fantasy Novel-Chapter 53: The Duke Who Descended at Dawn

The Next Day

A man descended from the sky and landed lightly in front of Lord Kraus’ castle just as the Kraus family was preparing to depart for Merohim.

The morning air had been tense but orderly. Servants moved luggage. Knights stood in formation. Count Kraus was in the middle of seeing off his son when a ripple spread across the sky, as if space itself had exhaled.

Then he appeared.

Despite performing such a feat openly within Kraus’ territory, the man showed no hostility. He merely gazed at Count Kraus with calm, unreadable eyes. His expression carried a composed indifference, as though he had expected this exact moment.

"As expected," he said evenly. "I knew you would let them depart on this day."

Count Kraus’ expression darkened instantly.

"You... you bastard!!"

The man’s lips curved slightly.

"With your personality, I didn’t think you would advance the schedule. You really don’t go beyond expectations."

Arthur stepped forward, his voice sharp.

"Hey! Joachim!! If you’re coming, at least send a notice first!!"

"It’s noisy, Arthur." Joachim brushed invisible dust from his sleeve.

"You prepared the knights. You prepared escorts. You prepared defensive formations." His eyes swept across the courtyard. "I came because I thought it would be better to take them myself. Are there any complaints?"

"You were just trying to annoy me!"

"You know me well."

A few knights stiffened, hands drifting toward their weapons. The atmosphere grew heavy.

Arthur clicked his tongue. "You drop from the sky without permission, insult the Count in his own territory, and expect us to smile?"

Joachim tilted his head slightly. "If I intended disrespect, I would not have spoken at all."

"That’s not comforting."

Count Kraus raised a hand, stopping Arthur from stepping any further. His gaze remained locked on Joachim.

"You could have sent word."

"And give you time to refuse?" Joachim replied smoothly.

"I would not have refused."

"You would have argued," Joachim corrected. "At length."

Arthur crossed his arms. "That’s true."

Count Kraus shot him a glare.

"They’ll arrive faster with me."

Before Arthur could even open his mouth to object, Joachim had already made up his mind.

"Then I’ll contact you later. Goodbye."

White light bloomed around the wagon, bright and pure, swallowing Joachim and the horses whole. In the next second, they were gone—no sound, no wind, no trace. It was as if they had never been there at all.

The courtyard fell silent.

Only when the last remnants of mana faded from the air—like mist dissolving under the sun—did Arthur let out a deep, hearty laugh. He crossed his arms and glanced sideways at his son.

"Didn’t I tell you?" Arthur said proudly. "That man would appear out of nowhere at dawn, cause a commotion, and vanish before anyone could stop him."

He shook his head, amusement clear in his eyes.

"The bet was my victory, my son."

Damian sighed.

Before he could respond, the heavy doors of the castle creaked open behind them. Elena stepped out beside him, though neither of them had been present when Arthur made the wager the night before.

A faint morning breeze brushed past them.

"I should have realized I would lose the moment Father mentioned that the Duke was his old friend..." Damian muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Only someone close to you would act so shamelessly confident."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Shamelessly confident?"

"I meant reliable," Damian corrected quickly.

Arthur chuckled. "Hm. That’s better."

Damian turned to Elena, who was standing unusually stiff beside him.

"And Elena, you don’t have to be embarrassed," he said gently. "It was just a bet between Father and me. Nothing more."

Elena’s face reddened instantly—though clearly not for the reason Damian assumed.

"I-I’m not embarrassed," she replied too quickly.

Arthur narrowed his eyes with interest.

Damian smiled awkwardly. "If you still feel uncomfortable... just think of the Duke as my father, not yours. Then it won’t feel so strange."

That only made things worse.

Elena’s blush deepened until even the tips of her ears turned red. She immediately covered her face with both hands.

"T-That’s not what—!"

She couldn’t even finish her sentence.

Arthur blinked once... then twice.

"...Oh?"

Damian looked confused. "What?"

Arthur slowly turned toward his son, a grin spreading across his face.

"Damian," he said casually, "what exactly did you mean by that?"

"I meant what I said," Damian answered defensively. "She was worried about how she addressed the Duke yesterday, so I was just—"

Elena made a soft, distressed sound behind her hands.

Arthur’s grin widened.

"Addressed him how?"

Damian froze.

Elena’s shoulders trembled.

Arthur stepped closer, lowering his voice as though discussing state secrets.

"Son... what did she call him?"

Damian hesitated. "That’s... not important."

"It sounds very important."

Elena finally lowered her hands slightly, revealing eyes filled with mortified panic.

"I-it was just a misunderstanding!" she said. "I only... I thought... because of what Your Grace said yesterday..."

Arthur folded his arms again, thoroughly entertained.

"Ah. So it’s my fault?"

Damian cleared his throat. "Father, please don’t tease her."

"Oh? You’re defending her already?"

"I’m asking you to stop making it worse."

Arthur looked between the two of them—the flustered young lady and his overly serious son—and laughed softly.

"My, my. I leave for one evening and come back to find interesting developments."

"There are no developments," Damian insisted.

Elena quickly nodded. "Yes! None at all!"

Arthur hummed thoughtfully. "That’s exactly what people say when there are developments."

Damian exhaled in frustration. "Father."

Arthur raised his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. I’ll stop."

He turned his gaze toward the spot where Joachim had disappeared.

"That man hasn’t changed," he muttered, a faint nostalgia in his tone. "Still reckless. Still dramatic."

Damian followed his father’s gaze. "You two seem close."

"We survived too many things together not to be."

For a brief moment, Arthur’s expression softened—older, heavier with memories.

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Author Note

Thanks for reading the Chapter. I hope you liked it and continue to read more in future.