Count's Youngest Son is a Warlock

―Lucion, my heart is racing so fast right now! I can even hear it pounding in my ears.

Ratta looked at Lucion with wide eyes.

Honestly, what Ratta said was true – it was a bit scary.

After witnessing firsthand just how intimidating Carson could be, Lucion couldn’t help but feel a bit scared.

But Lucion tried hard not to show any fear.

If he appeared weak, he would only be prey for Carson.

[Lord Lucion, I believe it would be wise to refrain from provoking Carson any further.]

Bethel, who was observing the situation, also cautioned Lucion.

In the first place, Carson was a person with a different temperament from Heint to keep in check.

Carson chuckled.

“I don’t like deals.”

‘I know.’

Lucion answered in his heart.

“I also dislike people attempting to outsmart me.”

‘I know that too.’

Lucion tensed up.

“That’s enough.”

Carson issued a warning.

Even though Carson didn’t have a weapon in hand, there was an undeniable sense of threat emanating from him.

[Lucion, it might be best to stop here.]

Even Russell chimed in, emphasizing that continuing to provoke Carson would not benefit Lucion in any way.

Furthermore, Lucion was well aware that Carson was not the type to engage in conversation with those he considered enemies.

“How long do you plan on sparing my life?”

But Lucion didn’t simply back down.

“Until you betray Heint and the Empire, or until I find you suspicious.”

“You’re quite generous with that.”

“Indeed. My patience knows no bounds.”

Carson maintained a calm smile.

Lucion licked his lips and continued speaking.

He had come a long way from struggling to express himself. Significant progress had been made.

“You most likely burned the corpses of the Neubra and Cronia soldiers to prevent the creation of undying soldiers, didn’t you?”

“I did. It’s standard procedure.”

“But that’s not enough.”

“Not enough?”

“Death is not the end. How many lives do you think were lost in the battle between Cronia and Neubra at the frontier? And with each death, the Warlock gained an advantage.”

A crease formed between Carson’s eyebrows, indicating that he had some idea of what Lucion was referring to.

“Cronia provided enough compensation to break down the frontier’s wall, which they were so proud of.”

“What?”

Carson reacted as if he’d been punched in the forehead.

Lucion’s mask turned yellow.

“I got rid of it, and you stabbed me for it.”

“What are you talking about, there was nothing there…”

“Of course there was nothing there. Nothing but knights from Cronia and soldiers from the Kingdom of Neubra.”

Lucion pointed towards his eyes.

“Just because you can’t see anything doesn’t mean there’s nothing there.”

His finger shifted from his eyes to his head.

“Think about it. Why would the Kingdom of Neubra be so eager to charge at a massive, impregnable wall?”

Neubra Kingdom.

Hand of the Void.

A fortress wall on the frontier.

And himself, the variable that triggered it all.

No matter how composed Carson was, it was a story that could shake him.

‘Because it’s true, more than anything.’

Lucion wanted to share this truth with Carson, not as someone hidden behind a mask, but as a brother standing before him.

He wanted to prove that he had become strong, to show that he was no longer just someone to be protected.

[That day will definitely come, Lord Lucion.]

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Bethel comforted him with gentle words.

“So, you’re implying that Cronia brought this upon themselves?”

Carson’s brow furrowed.

[He seems shaken.]

Russell said, observing the change in Carson’s emotions.

“Yes, the measures taken to safeguard the frontier have now turned against us.”

“That word now…”

“Because you were unaware.”

“What?”

“You had no knowledge of the Warlock, which led to the predicament you find yourself in. So, who do you think is responsible for this ignorance?”

Lucion chuckled, answering his own question.

“It was the priests.”

“You want to claim that they persecuted you?”

“It’s true. I don’t intend to defend a Warlock, but if I had known the information, I would have acted differently with Cronia.”

Lucion shrugged his shoulders.

“Now that you’ve heard everything, step aside. Heint and I have matters to discuss.”

Although he desired to assert himself, Lucion couldn’t bring himself to tell Carson to “get lost.”

“No. I have also decided to be part of this discussion.”

“Even your expression looks like it would turn my stomach.”

“I’m intrigued. I’m curious about what’s underneath that odd mask.”

[Your brother is under that mask, Carson. So, be gentle.]

Lucion almost burst into laughter at the sight of Russell resembling Ratta.

“You didn’t fight, did you?”

Heint rushed over, sensing the tension between the two.

“Fight? If I wanted to kill him, I could have, but I won’t engage in such childish behavior.”

Carson accepted the sword handed to him by Heint.

With a nervous expression, Heint watched to see if Carson would draw the sword.

“I said I wouldn’t kill him, so look away.”

Carson waved his hand, as if he were in a sour mood.

Heint felt uneasy about the gesture, but he didn’t want to provoke Carson’s temper at that moment.

“How much did we talk about?”

Heint was just conscious of Carson and intervened between him and Lucion.

“I mentioned having information about Twilo Sprikado.”

“Did you just say Twilo Sprikado?”

Carson responded.

“Okay. It’s an interesting story, right?”

“I must admit.”

Carson answered neatly.

Lucion fell into the sea with his injured body.

Luckily, it was summer, or else he might have frozen to death if it were winter.

If Twilo was responsible for the wizards’ actions against Lucion, he would have begged for death to escape the suffering.

“Oh, before I forget to ask.”

Carson had found a place in the east where undying soldiers were created.

The mansion belonged to the Tefellow Selga, and although he was a marquis, he was close to Twilo Spikado, who was of similar status as a marquis.

But the mansion had already been ransacked.

There was no way to find any clues.

It was obvious who had done it, since Twilo Sprikado’ information had just come out.

“Was it you? The one who looted Tefellow Selga’s mansion?”

[Wow. Did he really go there? You did well to arrive early. Or it could have been a real disaster.]

Russell expressed his relief.

“That’s right.”

Lucion replied with a chuckle.

Blatant lies only erode trust, and Lucion wanted to maintain the trust he had built with Heint.

“It was true what you said about being busy.”

Heint looked at Lucion with eyes full of sympathy.

“Here, take this, and don’t give me that look.”

Lucion handed over the organized documents to Heint, not to Carson.

His fingertips suddenly trembled.

It wasn’t his own reaction; it was Bethel’s joy that caused his hand to tremble involuntarily.

Heint felt suspicious after seeing Lucion tremble, but he didn’t bother to ask.

“Twilo Sprikado. This guy is the center of the nobles who joined hands with the Kingdom of Neubra, and he is also known as ‘The Owl.’”

Lucion summarized.

“He is conducting experiments to create undying soldiers and spread a curse throughout the empire.”

“A curse…?” Heint stammered.

Isn’t that curse the reason why dealing with warlocks is so difficult?

Not even the power of light can break the curse.

“I don’t know the exact location of the laboratory where the curse is being created, but I will find it. In exchange, I ask for one promise.”

Lucion sounded more serious.

“His end is mine.”

“Why?” Carson, who had been aiming for Twilo’s neck, asked.

“Because one of my knights died as a test subject for the curse. Can you give up on Twilo for that?”

[Lord Lucion…?]

Bethel’s joy was short-lived, quickly followed by panic.

[I, I’m okay with anything as long as that scum dies. But not my lord. I don’t want his blood stained on my lord’s hands.]

Russell’s eyes widened at Bethel’s words, but knowing how much Bethel hated Twilo, he couldn’t bring himself to speak.

‘No, Bethel. You’re my knight. I will be the one to plunge the sword into his throat with my own hand.’

Lucion looked at Heint, who was hesitant, and clearly informed Bethel.

Possess me and kill Twilo.

[I appreciate your concern for me. I am grateful, but I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself for my revenge.]

Bethel was sincere.

She was filled with happiness and joy.

[I also desire the happiness that you seek, my lord.]

Death was a concept associated with darkness.

Taking another person’s life was considered a blasphemy against darkness, and the more a warlock killed, the more corrupted they became.

Still, Lucion had offered to take up the sword for her sake.

Why shouldn’t she be pleased?

He was her precious and caring master.

[So, it must never happen that you fall into corruption. Remember? My wish is your wish, Lord Lucion.]

‘Okay.’

Lucion wanted to listen to Bethel’s wishes.

“I apologize, but I cannot fulfill that request, especially not in this case.”

Heint finished his thoughts and spoke cautiously.

He couldn’t see Hamel’s expression behind the mask, but he continued.

“It’s especially not possible if, as you said, he is the central traitor among the traitors. He must die by the sword of the Empire.”

‘Bethel. Don’t worry about me, just tell me your opinion. Do you agree with that?’

Lucion was ready to oppose it if Bethel disagreed.

[I agree. I hope he dies as a traitor and a monster in front of everyone, stealing away the future of many. That way, he will be forever remembered as a vile bastard.]

“Alright. Then is it okay if I have a moment alone with him after killing him?”

Lucion changed direction.

If Twilo, who was alive, died as a traitor and monster as Bethel hoped, then Twilo, who had become a ghost, must end at Bethel’s hands.

Heint nodded with relief.

“Yes, that will be fine.”

“I was originally going to meet the Emperor today, but something else has come into my hands,” Lucion said as he handed over a letter containing the information about the Fourth Prince, Owen Tesla, being a traitor.

This was both a warning and the reason why the Emperor had no choice but to meet him.

“Heint, deliver this letter to the Emperor. Only the Emperor must see it. Otherwise, I can’t

guarantee whose head will roll.”

With Carson now returning, it was time to leave the central region and meet the Emperor.

Lucion thought about introducing the organization then.

Now that the organization had grown to a size incomparable to the past, it was necessary to establish a solid presence within the empire.

“Ah, of course, it’s the Emperor who wields the sword, not me.”

Lucion issued a reminder that had almost slipped his mind as he turned around.

“Very well.”

Lucion strode forward briskly.

Carson snorted at the sight.

It was evident that he had lost track of the conversation.

However, Carson deliberately chose not to inform Heint about it.

It would be more fun that way.

“Carson.”

“Why?”

“Did you really see Hamel across the frontier?”

“You think I merely saw him? I stabbed him. I missed it, though.”

“Anyway, you saw him, right? If he dies, the empire will suffer tremendous losses.”

“I know, so stop talking.”

“By the way, why did you come this way? The main entrance is not here, is it? Where did the knights go?”

“I sent them to the mansion to rest, and I was on my way to buy macarons for Lucion. This way was a shortcut from that shop.”

Heint let out a laugh at those words.

“A shop open for business at this hour, and not even an inn?”

“Money solved it.”

“You’re always so consistent.”

“Did you get beaten up by Shaela?”

“Well, how did you… Dammit. I didn’t expect the Knights of Cronia to be so loose-tongued!”

“You should have been beaten up more. It seems Shaela was in a good mood after seeing Lucion.”

Heint was taken aback, and Carson sneered at him as he walked towards the mansion.

“Hey, Carson.”

Heint followed Carson and called out to him, but he showed no reaction.

“I told Lucion. Nevast is targeting Lucion.”

Only then did Carson turn around with a stiff expression, biting his lip.

“Lucion should know too. I understand why you’re trying to keep it hidden, but no matter how much I think about it, this isn’t right.”

“…”

Carson remained silent, raised his middle finger to Heint, and continued walking toward the mansion.

“Damn bastard.”

Heint muttered as he followed behind.