Genius of the Count's Family Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Even while accompanying me, Jayvolg couldn’t hide his confusion.

“Young Master, what brings you out into the streets at this hour of the night?”

“Maybe it’s because I’ve been cooped up inside too much—it’s stifling. If you vouch for me, the family will allow it, won’t they?”

“Hmm…”

It was probably because I was treated like an invalid.

Unfortunately, that meant I couldn’t just walk out alone in the middle of the night.

I had considered sneaking out, but you can’t easily fool the knights of the Pador family.

Not yet, anyway. My training isn’t that far along.

Jayvolg mulled it over alone for a moment, then broke into a wide grin.

“Haha! Well, that’s true. I am quite trustworthy, am I not?”

Was that just his own opinion?

Either way, thanks to him, I was able to slip out of the estate without a fuss.

Up ahead, I saw a lively plaza.

Street performers were putting on a circus show in front of a fountain, and a bard was singing to set the mood.

People were gathered around nearby shops in small groups, drinking and enjoying the night breeze.

You think I came out here to do the same?

That’s part of it… But I had another reason.

To find Ralph Pador, that bastard.

I sniffed the air, tracking the scent.

When I shook his hand earlier, I had smeared him with a trace-scent oil—a smell that wouldn’t wash off and would linger for at least a week.

For days, he’d stayed inside the Pador estate, and I’d been wondering how best to discipline him.

But fortunately for me, tonight he’d stepped outside.

Which meant, here, I could avoid the eyes of the Pador knights.

Perfect.

The lesson I had planned for him was going to be a bit… rough.

West… was it west?

Not far. I could be there quickly.

“Jayvolg.”

“Yes?”

“I’ll take a look around the market on my own. If you have any errands, go ahead and see to them.”

“Will you be alright, Young Master? What if something happens while you’re alone—!”

“Jayvolg, have you already forgotten that time?”

I pulled a needle from my sleeve. Seeing it, Jayvolg gave a small cough, as though recalling a nightmare.

“Come to think of it… I do have something to attend to!”

“I thought so.”

“Yes, then—I’ll take my leave!”

With Jayvolg out of the way, I could enjoy myself a bit.

On my way to Ralph Pador, I stopped at a general store and bought a piece of leather, roughly cutting eyeholes into it.

With that, I had my mask.

Now, let’s see what he came out here to do.

Following the scent trail, I quickly found a tavern. It was in a slightly secluded spot, with guards posted outside in a rather secretive manner.

Seeing the sign hanging out front, I couldn’t help but let out a quiet chuckle.

Well now… this gave me one more reason to bring out the switch.

These punks wouldn’t dare report anything that happened out here.

[The Giant’s Ale].

A tavern strictly forbidden to anyone under the age of majority in the Pador family.

Even if they got beaten black and blue, if they tried to complain later, they’d have to admit they were here in the first place.

How lucky can I get?

Just in case they’d come with any knights, I carefully checked the surroundings—but there wasn’t the slightest hint of a knight-level presence.

They had obviously snuck out.

I climbed up onto the roof without drawing the guards’ attention.

These weren’t Pador knights—guards of this caliber were child’s play.

I picked a spot on the roof that reeked like a public latrine, then used a light burst of air to make a narrow gap.

Through it, I could see several boys holding a boisterous drinking party.

Ralph Pador was there, along with the same brats who had laughed at me earlier.

Birds of a feather, as they say.

An eternal truth, proven once again.

These little shits were already going down the wrong path.

I considered striking right away… but perhaps I should first listen to their conversation.

You never know—there might be some unexpected information to gain.

The one who’d laughed the hardest earlier—the long-faced kid who looked like an ear of corn—poured some fruit wine for Ralph.

“Sir Ralph, thank you so much for arranging this for us!”

Ralph took the glass naturally.

“What’s so hard about investing in my future comrades? From now on, we’re brothers.”

“Brothers? How could we possibly…”

“Hmph. Compared to that trash cousin Deyan, you’re all far better. I don’t put much stock in bloodlines—it’s skill that matters! You’re not lacking in the least—your parents are all distinguished knights, and you’ve got talent too! So why would I ever betray you?!”

Perhaps moved by his words, the pig-faced one sniffled loudly and bowed his head.

“Thank you, Sir Ralph!”

Lastly, the weasel-faced kid—with slitted eyes and protruding teeth—raised his glass in a sly tone.

“To Sir Ralph and we Three Knights!”

“To us!”

These bastards…

I remembered every one of them.

Those unforgettable, grotesque faces—and that title, “Three Knights.”

They’d dragged the honor of the Pador name through the mud in every way imaginable.

Trash Ralph and his pack of rejects.

They’d once hounded me relentlessly together.

And now, on this most opportune of nights, they were all gathered here. That called for some special discipline… no—education.

The Ralph gang was so busy guzzling their drinks it was as if they feared someone might take them away.

“Mm…! Now this is it. The family’s way too old-fashioned. Why do they even forbid drinking? It’s not like we’re little kids—just a few more years and we’ll be adults anyway!”

Once the alcohol got into him, Ralph started badmouthing the family, and the pig-faced brat eagerly chimed in.

“You’re absolutely right. Ugh, to think that’s actually a tradition of the Pador family… When you become the head, Sir Ralph, you should change it!”

But the other two hesitated, exchanging uncertain looks.

“Still… even if Deyan is trash, the others aren’t, are they? Your older cousins, Sir Ralph… both of them, well…”

“That’s true. Sir Ras is already commanding a knight order, and Sir Mikhail is serving as a knight, earning fame all across the continent.”

At the mention of his cousins, Ralph’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

Bang!

He slammed his cup down hard, making his flunkies flinch.

“So you’re saying I’m worse than my cousins, huh?! Huh?!”

“N-no, that’s not what we meant—”

“Just you watch. I’ll surpass them all!”

The others exchanged glances, then hurried to refill his empty cup.

“Of course! We believe in you, Sir Ralph! Hahaha!”

Surpass them?

This punk couldn’t match them even if he trained for ten lifetimes.

Calling him a thimble compared to their basin might be too kind… In truth, their “vessels” were dozens, hundreds of times larger.

They were simply on another level.

If not for them… the fall of the Pador family would have come much sooner.

That much was certain.

Even so, not even those two could stop the family’s decline.

The opponent was a massive shadow—something that sought to swallow everything whole.

Anyway… there was no point listening to this any further.

They were just trading petty stories and showering each other with hollow praise.

I lay back and looked at the night sky, waiting until I saw them wrapping up before rising to follow.

Since they’d snuck out at night, they obviously wouldn’t take the main road home.

And, of course, I was right.

They avoided the busy streets, sticking to deserted alleys.

Heading straight into the classroom, are we?

How obedient.

I trailed after them, noting how they kept choosing paths with no one around. Suspicious little rats.

Alright… time to start.

First up for discipline—corn-face.

“Sir Ralph, remember this? ‘You have to run away.’”

Corn-face mocked me with a laugh, clearly enjoying himself.

“This is what he said. Pathetic—”

Thud!

“…?!”

Ralph and the other flunkies froze, staring at corn-face.

His lips were sealed shut—literally. The problem was… the “lock” holding his upper and lower lips together was a needle.

“Mmmph…!”

He tried desperately to pull the needle out, but the more he struggled, the sharper the pain.

“Uh… wh-what?”

“It’s the duty of anyone walking the path of martial arts to stay alert to their surroundings at all times. Etch that into your skull.”

My sudden voice made the rest of them draw their swords instantly, scanning the area.

“Who’s there?!”

As if I’d tell them.

Meanwhile, corn-face’s lips were swelling fast. I could have knocked him out instantly, but I didn’t.

Let him feel exactly how much filth that mouth of his spews.

The Tang Clan pays back a single slight with a hundredfold interest.

“Whoever you are, come out now!”

While they were spinning in circles, looking east, west, north, and south, I stepped gracefully into their midst and tapped weasel-face lightly on the back with my index finger.

“When searching for an opponent, you need to use more than just your eyes.”

“GYAAAHHH!”

Weasel-face screamed and swung his sword wildly behind him.

But by the time Weasel-face swung his sword, I had already moved smoothly to another spot—leaving his blade aimed straight at Ralph instead.

Clang!

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

To his credit, Ralph managed to block the sudden strike—well, he was of Pador blood, after all.

“I—I didn’t mean—!”

While Weasel-face fumbled an excuse, I grabbed Pig-face by the crown of his head and yanked him straight up onto the roof.

“Uwaaaah! Spare me!”

He flailed like a squid being hauled out of the water, his limbs flapping wildly as I pulled him away from the group.

I dragged the terrified brat deeper into a shadowed alley.

Thud!

“Gahk!”

Slamming him against a dead-end wall, I crouched down in front of him.

“You’re shaking.”

He squealed like a pig at slaughter.

“H-heeeek! Wh-why are you doing this?! Do you even know who I am?!”

“I’ll give you one lesson—when cornered, you need to be calmer than anyone else.”

“B-bullshit!”

Hopeless. Truly hopeless.

“It’s a shame you can’t even understand when it’s explained to you… If it were me, I’d be thinking of how to survive, using my eyes to take in the surroundings and my mouth to keep distracting my enemy without pause.”

Crunch!

I stomped down hard on several of his pressure points.

And then—

“Uuuaaargh…!”

Every hole in his body began spewing… fluids.

Wow. He really did drink a lot.

I heard footsteps approaching and slipped back into the shadows.

“Adolf…?”

“Ugh! The smell!”

Ralph and Weasel-face covered their noses, refusing to look at him.

So much for “brothers”—seconds ago, they were pledging loyalty, and now they were discarding him because he stank.

Pathetic.

Fear flickered in Weasel-face’s eyes as he turned to Ralph.

“R-Ralph, sir… Let’s run! We have to run!”

“Run…?”

Ralph grabbed him by the collar.

“You mean that running crap Deyan was talking about earlier?!”

“H-heeeek…!”

“I’m not using some coward’s trick like that!”

He shoved Weasel-face away. But even stumbling, the boy stuck to his plea.

“But there’s no helping this! Sir Ralph, this is exactly like Deyan said—f-for the future! No, forget the future—the family estate is right there! We could at least call the knights—”

“Shut up!”

I didn’t even need to dirty my hands—Ralph punched Weasel-face in the face, knocking him out cold.

Well, well.

They say giving honest advice to a king only makes him draw his sword.

Fool.

After dropping Weasel-face, Ralph gripped his sword in both hands, barking loudly as if to shake off his fear.

“Come out, you bastard…! Come out! Coward! You can’t do anything face-to-face, can you?!”

Go on, make a scene, you idiot.

“Fine—if you want it that badly, I’ll come out.”

I stepped from the shadows, and Ralph immediately retreated a step.

“Hhhhhh…! Coward! Only coming out now?”

“I’ll never understand people like you. Whether it’s with a sword or a needle—if you win, you win. Both of us are risking our lives here, aren’t we?”

“Shut your mouth! You’re nothing but a rat sneaking around like a petty thief!”

Ralph was clearly no longer thinking straight.

Looks like talking won’t work—some lessons need to be beaten in.

“Fine, as you wish. I’ll take you head-on with a sword.”

I picked up Weasel-face’s sword—still sheathed—from where he’d dropped it, not even bothering to draw it.

Ralph puffed himself up and charged at me.

“You’ll regret showing yourself—!”

Thud!

“Ghuuhhh—!”

First strike—right to the gut.

“First point deduction: failing to recognize your opponent’s skill.”

His upper body folded forward.

“Second point deduction: even after realizing it, you refused to acknowledge it and instead knocked down your own ally, closing off your escape route.”

I followed with an upward strike to the chin.

“Kueeehhhk—!”

His body lifted clean off the ground, arching like a drawn bow.

“Hhhhhaahhh…!”

“Third point deduction: stubborn pride turned into reckless bravado—a textbook example. Verdict: you fail.”

Then I went to work—shoulders, chest, thighs, calves.

Laid into him with the sheathed blade, making sure he got the full lesson.

There was no need for swordsmanship here.

Why waste a fine cow-slaying blade on a chicken… no, on trash like this?

Even that sword-obsessed Sword Immortal would understand my restraint.

Bam!

“Wh-who… who the hell are you…?”

“You blockheaded fool—if I planned to tell you, would I be wearing this?”

The mask covered my face for a reason.

“Oh, and go ahead—try telling someone what happened. You won’t have a single visible bruise.”

I’d made sure to inflict only internal damage, no marks. The hits were heavy, though—far above what he could handle. His insides would be burning.

“Hhhhhhkk!”

It was solid ground beneath him, but Ralph flailed as if drowning.

Finally, I gripped the sheath firmly, twisted my hips, and sent him flying like a kicked ball.

Thud-splash…!

“That’s what you get for making enemies… No, wait—”

Well, at least they were all out cold now.

And no—this wasn’t revenge. Not at all.

It’s just… habit.

Surely I’m not so petty.

I was simply teaching them—as an adult, as someone who’s lived longer.

Yes. That’s all.

It was for their own good.

Back in the Shadow Lord days, there were people lining up for even a single lesson from me.

These kids had just received a special lecture. They should consider themselves lucky.

Really… I’m too kind for my own good.

“This will all become flesh and bone for you one day, brats.”

They looked pathetic, sprawled out like that—but somehow, it suited them.

Especially Ralph Pador—a wild colt who didn’t even know his own limits. One day, even his own parents would cast him aside. Pitiful.

Poor fool. I guess I’ll have to watch over him.

See? I have a generous heart.

After wrapping up with Ralph’s lot, I headed to the fountain at the central plaza, where I’d agreed to meet Jayvolg.

He was already there, arms full of… something.

“Jayvolg, what’s all that?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

Looking closer, I saw both his hands full of wooden swords—each one engraved with his name.

He grinned.

“Oh, the blacksmith said these were good, so I bought out the lot. Training swords! Not bad, eh?”

“…”

“Would you like to try one, Young Master? They fit in the hand perfectly, it’s—”

This sword fanatic… will he ever change?

I gave up—everyone has their own path.

I waved a hand in refusal.

“No, you keep them. But why wooden swords? Even if they’re for training, you could’ve bought steel ones.”

“Ah, after our sparring match, I realized a lot. So until I’ve fully established my own style, I’m not touching my real sword!”

“…Alright. Do as you like.”

No point in stopping him. If it makes him happy, who cares.

“Anyway, Jayvolg, I want to explore the alleys a bit more. Can you come along?”

“Of course.”

I led Jayvolg toward the backstreets.

To avoid drawing suspicion, I really did stroll through all sorts of spots—window-shopping here, lingering there—until, at last, I arrived at the secluded alley where Ralph and his lot had been left.

“Hmm…?”

Jayvolg suddenly pricked up his ears, catching some sound.

Then, without hesitation, he grabbed one of his wooden swords and bolted toward the source.

Good. Go on, Jayvolg, find them. The more he “discovers,” the less anyone will think to question me.

I followed at a leisurely pace, feeling positively cheerful.

And there they were—

“Ghhkk… Aaaghhh!”

Corn-face, unable to even open his mouth properly, squirming in panic.

Weasel-face, sprawled out cold with twin streams of blood from his nose.

Pig-face, drenched in every kind of filth imaginable.

And Ralph himself, in the most pitiful state of all.

There are humiliations, and then there’s this.

I’d done it myself, but the sight was… satisfying. Like gazing upon a completed work of art.

“What… what happened here?!”

Recognizing them, Jayvolg rushed forward. I, too, hurried up—masking my true feelings—and shouted,

“Jayvolg! Now’s not the time for that—we need to get them back to the main house!”

I heaved Ralph onto my back and ran. Caught off guard, Jayvolg fell in beside me, carrying the others as we headed for the Pador estate.

The guards at the main gate rushed out in alarm.

“Y-young Master?!”

“Sir Ralph, too? And the others… what on earth?!”

“Take them to the family physicians immediately—hurry!”

“R-right!”

They began helping the wounded away, and before long, the Pador knights were gathering at the gate.

Once a decent number had arrived, I raised my voice to all of them.

“It looks like they were ambushed! The culprit must still be nearby—find them!”

“Yes, sir!”

The knights swept past us in a rush.

They could search until the end of time—they’d never find the culprit. After all… he was standing right here.

“Young Master, are you alright? I’ll carry Sir Ralph from here!”

It was the captain of the guard.

“I’m fine. Ralph is hurt like this—if I can help, even a little, I want to.”

“Young Master…”

The admiration in his eyes was impossible to miss—and I saw it mirrored in the faces around us.

“The spirit of the Pador family lives in you, Young Master Deyan.”

“It’s shameful that even grown men like us can’t match him…”

Yes, yes—say it louder. Let everyone know about the kind-hearted youngest son of the Pador family, who, even while hurt, looked after others first.

Now for the finishing touch…

Thump!

“Young Master, are you alright?!”

The captain and nearby soldiers caught me just as I nearly stumbled.

“Ugh…”

I looked up, wiping away sweat that wasn’t even there.

“I… I’m fine…”

The captain shook his head.

“Please, rest, Young Master! Your noble spirit is clear to us all! What are you all doing—escort the young masters immediately!”

“Yes, sir!”

…Huh. Turns out I have a talent for acting.

Ralph was being carried away. The farther he went, the deeper my smile grew.

A perfect end to a delightful day.

---The End Of The Chapter---

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