Of course it felt unfamiliar—he’d never been here before. Staring at the vague silhouette of the mansion, Kiole slowly stepped forward—
“Gah!”
He suddenly coughed harshly, as if sothing invisible had yanked him back by the collar. It was the result of Kishiar using his ability, but Kiole assud it was Yuder’s doing.
“Wh-what the hell?!”
“Oh dear. If you’re going to complain, direct it at , not Yuder. That was my doing.”
“Huh?!”
Even if their earlier conversation had eased so of the tension, the man was still Duke Peleta.
Kiole shut his mouth again, shrinking back, and Kishiar chuckled, the corner of his mouth curling beneath the hooded cloak.
“If you rush in unprepared, it’s dangerous. That place is surrounded by all sorts of defense chanisms—likely installed to ward off intruders.”
A chill ran down Kiole’s spine as he turned to look at the mansion again. It resembled so remote, seldom-used countryside villa. Was that kind of security really in place here?
“...Is it owned by my mother’s family?”
“Hmm? No. It’s owned by Duke Diarca. Managed by him too.”
Kishiar, as if reading his muttered thought perfectly, answered kindly. Kiole wanted to ask how—how he knew that, and since when—but he kept his mouth shut. He was starting to accept that people aligned with the imperial faction possessed outrageous amounts of skill and intelligence as a matter of course.
‘I didn’t even know my father owned that mansion... or that he had a secret path leading here. The steward said he’d never been here, either. I didn’t know, so chances are the rest of the family didn’t either...’
It had been his mother’s ho, and yet Kiole had never once visited. His father had never even ntioned it.
...But was that really natural?
As far as Kiole knew, none of House Diarca’s other villas were guarded this tightly. The thorough defenses ant there was definitely sothing inside. And since they’d co this far, it was highly likely that this was where the secret vault was.
“Glad to see you’re capable of making the right deduction this ti, without further prompting.”
Yuder Aile murmured quietly, looking at Kiole’s expression.
Thanks to their prior investigation, they already knew this mansion was suspiciously well-secured. That made it easy to determine the location of Duke Diarca’s secret vault. But Kiole hadn’t known any of that. If he’d been alone, he wouldn’t have even gotten this far, or he would’ve missed the signs entirely.
Without his usual loud complaints, Kiole took in the situation quietly and looked up after a long pause.
“...Understood. So... what preparations do we need to make to enter?”
The other three exchanged glances. Kishiar’s smile deepened just a little.
“Funny you ask—we were just about to explain. Actually, we’re the ones who need to prepare. You don’t have to do a thing. So just relax.”
“...Huh?”
They were about to enter the very heart of Duke Diarca’s secrets, yet Kishiar looked completely relaxed and amused. And that made it all the more terrifying. Kiole tensed and focused on Kishiar’s words.
A short while later.
The four of them stood in front of the old gate of the Dilejian estate—a place untouched by human footsteps for years.
Before any of them could say a word, a servant appeared from inside and asked coldly,
“Who are you?”
“Open the gate and let us in.”
The tallest of the four n replied in a commanding tone. The servant frowned in suspicion. The visitors were plainly dressed, with unremarkable horses—hardly the type of guests this place ever received.
“There was no word of any visitors. Please state your identities.”
“This is the master’s son.”
“I wasn’t told anyone like that would be arriving.”
“If soone needs permission to enter, then they are a guest. Are you saying even the master requires permission to enter? Or... are you claiming to be the master yourself?”
The voice was firm and elegant, allowing no room for rebuttal. The servant, without realizing it, felt the pressure mount. In all his years guarding this place, nothing like this had ever happened.
His tone softened slightly as he answered cautiously.
“...I’ve been ordered to allow no one beyond this gate unless they arrive in the master’s carriage. I cannot let anyone through without confirmation.”
At that mont, the figure standing at the back of the group pushed his hood back.
A cold, arrogant-looking young man stared back with sharp features and spoke in a harsh voice.
“This is such a pain. If it weren’t for Father, I’d have never co to this backwater dump!”
“...”
The servant’s eyes widened as he saw the young man’s face.
‘Wait. That face... that voice!’
The man who occasionally visited this mansion by carriage—
Though he had been strictly forbidden to ever learn the man’s na, he naturally ca to recognize his face and voice.
The arrogant young noble before him looked just like the master—uncannily so. If one imagined what the master must’ve looked like in his youth... it would’ve been exactly that.
It was undeniable: this young man had to be his son. Even if the servant wanted to deny it, he couldn’t.
Seeing the servant’s reaction, the man in the cloak pressed further, his tone more forceful.
“The young master ca here under the master’s orders. He’s here to retrieve sothing. If he fails to fulfill that order, the bla will fall on you. Can you take responsibility for that?”
‘Is there sothing I don’t know about...?’
The servant hesitated. In his mory, the master had always arrived alone. He’d never brought anyone with him. Under normal circumstances, these unexpected visitors wouldn’t have been allowed anywhere near the entrance. Anyone suspicious could be driven out—or even killed. That was the rule.
But the face before him... was far too similar to the master’s. He couldn’t act recklessly.
After a long pause, the servant finally said,
“Then, if you would please wait here, I will go inside and contact the master to confirm—”
“I’m thirsty!”
The ‘young master’ suddenly shouted, cutting him off.
The others imdiately followed suit.
“Did you not hear that?”
“Pardon?”
“He said he’s thirsty. How long are you planning to keep him standing here?”
“...”
“I don’t know how long you’ve worked here, but if you truly understand what kind of person your master is, you should know better than to make a foolish mistake.”
The pale lips beneath the cloak’s hood curled slightly as a voice cold enough to chill the spine threatened him.
The servant rembered his “master.”
A cruel man.
He rarely visited, but whenever he did, anyone who displeased him was dealt with harshly. He recalled the ti a young servant had dared laugh too loudly—only to vanish with a re gesture from the master.
That mory made his anxiety spike.
“...Very well. You may enter—but only the young master. The others must wait outside—”
“What?! No!”
The young master glared and shouted.
“You expect to enter alone when there could be assassins waiting to kill ?!”
“But—”
“Absolutely not! If my faaather heard this, you’d be fired on the spot!”
“...”
At last, the servant decided that it would be best to bring in the visitors and summon an older maid who was more familiar with the master’s affairs. Continuing to argue would only increase the risk that the responsibility fell on him—and that was sothing he absolutely wanted to avoid.
“...Very well. Please co inside.”
The gates opened, and the four of them stepped into the estate.
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