The next day.
In the afternoon, near the end of the knights’ daily routine, an unexpected guest ca to the living quarters.
Arendt returned to his room and was about to head to the training hall when he noticed a commotion at the entrance and stopped walking.
The knights were blocking the entrance and making a fuss.
Rider, who had just felt a movent behind him and turned his head, spotted Arendt and made a noise.
“Arendt?”
“…What is it?”
Arendt approached them with a serious expression. Then, the knights who had been gathering like a cloud began to slowly retreat.
Only then did the man surrounded by the knights co into view.
He was a tall man who would not be outshone even among knights with good physiques. His dark red hair was neatly arranged, and his dark eyes gave off a sense of bluntness.
It was clearly the first ti he had seen this man.
However…
‘Why do I feel uneasy?’
Arendt, who had been staring blankly, soon realized that the man was looking straight at him.
That wasn’t all.
The knights who had gathered in groups of three or five each looked at Arendt and the man in turns, each with a look of defeat or bewildernt.
In that situation, there was only one thing Arendt could say.
Standing there with his chin slightly raised, he spoke in an arrogant tone.
“Is this your first ti seeing such a handso person?”
…
It was a magical phrase that instantly put an end to the noisy atmosphere. The knights’ faces distorted miserably, and the visitor’s face also hardened.
Rider wiped his face, expressing everyone’s feelings.
“…That little bastard.”
“What is it? Why are you guys doing this?”
Arendt shoved his hands deep into his pockets and walked towards them. Even with that action, the visitor did not take his eyes off him.
As the knights slowly stepped back and the strange man continued to stand upright, Arendt naturally found himself facing the man.
He was probably in his mid to late twenties, and his face looked younger than that of Laius and Cantares.
The man was much taller than Arendt, so he had to look up at him, but for so reason, his stomach felt like it was turning as he stared at his face.
Then the man finally opened his mouth.
“Are you saying you won’t even call brother anymore?”
“Ah…”
Only then did Arendt recall the portrait of Count Eckhart that he had seen in the archives so ti ago. Now that he thought about it, the man looked quite similar to the portrait he had seen then.
‘Was it Arcus von Eckhart?’
He was an unknown character who did not even appear in the novel.
Arendt scratched the back of his head.
“I don’t think we were close enough to be happy to see each other again. Are you upset?”
He could feel the knights around him getting startled by those blunt words. Arcus’ face also hardened even more.
“Seniors, if there’s a guest for , you could have just called over. Why are you all making such a fuss? Tsk, there’s no common sense.”
“Look at this guy…!”
“Don’t make a fuss unnecessarily.”
At that mont, Richt’s voice was suddenly heard among the knights.
Rider who was about to vent his anger stopped and stepped back.
Richt, who had co closer with brisk strides, stood in front of Arendt and Arcus.
“I’m sure they stopped you at the entrance, but it looks like you used a lot of force, Lord Arcus. If you had told us the purpose of your visit at the entrance, word would have reached Arendt.”
“I’m sorry, but I feel like I won’t be able to see my little brother if I don’t do this.”
Arcus responded calmly.
“I heard that he tore up the letter that our father sent him a while ago. If I had sent a servant to inform him of my intention to visit, he would have already run away.”
“I think it is up to Lord Arendt to decide whether or not to respond to your visit.”
Accordingly, Richt’s voice also lowered slightly.
Arendt sighed deeply and waved his hands.
“It’s okay, senior. As for what’s the matter, well, I don’t think it’s worth asking.”
“Father said he wanted to see you for a mont.”
“This suddenly? Without even consulting ? What do you plan to do if I have any schedules or prior commitnts?”
“Then there’s no choice but to ask for the other person’s understanding.”
“Aha, so you’re saying you don’t need my understanding?”
Arcus’ brow furrowed slightly as Arendt responded indifferently.
It seed necessary to slightly modify the interpretation of the character ‘Arendt’.
He is not a young master who ca from a good family and lost his temper due to the strong wind blowing at him… but a guy whose natural temper beca even worse due to the nagging of his family mbers at ho.
“You’re still the sa.”
So, who is acting?
Arendt, with his hands deep in his pockets, tilted his head deliberately.
“Did you think people could change so easily? What should I do? I think I promised to train with senior Arthur from now on, or maybe I didn’t.”
The mocking intention was clear.
As Arcus’ face crumpled, Arendt struck first.
“I don’t know what you’re trying to say, but it’s not you who should be upset right now, it’s . You’re the one who ca in so recklessly.”
“What?”
“I think I’ve already expressed my desire to not see you. I’m not seven years old. Do you think I’ll co when you tell to and go when you tell to?”
Arendt’s tone, which was lax, suddenly changed. Arcus was montarily lost for words at the sight of his ice-cold eyes.
Suddenly it occurred to him that Arendt had torn up his father’s letter. That must have been what he ant.
The atmosphere suddenly beca tense and the knights began to look at each other.
Arendt kept his mouth shut and glared at Arcus, but Arcus, speechless, could only move his lips wordlessly.
‘I guess he never thought he’d be counterattacked.’
He must not be a stupid guy, because he didn’t say anything rude or dare to do anything here, even though he was embarrassed.
If Arendt had been dragged out obediently, it would have ended in a montary incident, but if he displayed his will, there was no room for excuses.
He thought that this much exploration was sufficient for now.
Arendt took his hands out of his pockets and shrugged.
“Let’s stop arguing here. Since my father called , I can’t not go.”
“What?”
A panicked cry ca from the knights. Richt also raised his eyebrows slightly.
“Wasn’t it a rejection?”
“I’ll be back. As for permission to go out… since Senior Richt is here, you can tell Captain Laius.”
Richt nodded with a short sigh at the hand that lightly tapped his shoulder.
“Okay, I understand. Just make sure to co back before it’s too late.”
Without responding to those words, Arendt quickly left the dormitory. Arcus was still standing there as if he was nailed to the spot, staring at his back as he walked away with a stiff face.
Richt spoke to him.
“Lord Arcus, I will accept this ti’s rudeness as a mistake, but I hope you will be more careful next ti.”
“…Yes, I’m sorry.”
After a mont of silence, Arcus calmly apologized and bowed his head to the knights. Then, he walked slowly and followed Arendt out of the dormitory.
Thud.
The door closed, and after the two people had completely disappeared, Rider muttered vaguely.
“What the hell was this fuss…?”
There was no one who could answer that question.
Arcus walked ahead, keeping his mouth shut and not saying a word. Arendt followed suit, just staring blankly at his broad back.
It seed like the story was much more complicated than he thought.
To be honest, it was a bit annoying.
He had spent much more ti alone before coming to this world in the first place, but now he has beco entangled in this annoying blood relationship.
‘He seems quite overbearing.’
It was said that you could guess the parents’ personality to so extent by looking at their sons. He could easily guess how Count Eckhart usually treated Arendt.
At this point, he was starting to wonder what kind of person Count Eckhart was.
“…It seems like you get along well with your colleagues.”
At that mont, Arcus, who had been walking silently, finally spoke. It was about what had happened earlier.
“That’s not possible. They are all people who are upset because they can’t change .”
“It didn’t look like that to .”
“Then your eyes are sprained, brother.”
Only then did Arcus glance at Arendt.
Arendt added without avoiding that gaze, “But aren’t they better than a father who doesn’t even bat an eye whether his child ends up in a dungeon or not?”
“That was the result of your reckless actions. It’s definitely not sothing a father should be responsible for.”
“If soone acts rashly, shouldn’t parents usually hit them with a smack to bring them to their senses?”
Arendt responded imdiately, as if he was talking about soone else’s business. Then Arcus stopped walking, turned around, and in an angry voice, he snarled:
“You were the one who disobeyed your father and ran away from ho. How shaless of you to say such things now.”
“I don’t particularly hold a grudge over that. I never wanted that. It could have just ended like that… I don’t really understand why he insists on eting now.”
“Father must have his own will.”
“Brother, don’t you have an ego?”
Arcus frowned at the words that ca out of nowhere.
“What?”
“You’ve been speaking on behalf of our father all this ti, so I’m wondering if you have any thoughts of your own.”
That was the clue Arendt picked up in this brief conversation.
All of Arcus’ words were referring to Count Eckhart as the subject, such as Father, our father, your father, etc., without revealing his own intentions at all.
“Without even a single word of greeting, you continued to say: Father wants to see you, you are the one who disobeyed Father, Father must have an agenda… You just keep repeating the sa things. I’d rather talk to a parrot who has learned to speak well. At least that would be cute.”
Arendt leaned in closer and complained.
“It looks like you don’t even want to punch your ugly little brother in the face. Well, I don’t have any intention of getting hit just because you’re angry.”
“…What are you trying to say?”
“Nothing. I just told you what I felt. I find it a bit strange. My brother isn’t my father.”
Arcus’s fist clenched at the infinitely light answer.
“Because you can’t ruin your father’s work just because of my words. In that case, it would be better to save even a single word. Did you get the answer?”
“Yes?”
Despite the absurd question, Arcus simply turned around and started walking again.
“…Ha, really.”
After a while, Arendt rubbed the back of his neck and burst into laughter.
This makes it certain.
There was definitely sothing seriously wrong with Count Eckhart’s parenting style.
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