Circumstances of a Fallen Lord - Chapter 137

Chapter 137

Count Doubless recalled the previous duke. From their first encounter, he was a perfect man. His family was honorable and wealthy, he had respectful parents, and he was incredibly beautiful. Moreover, he was talented and excelled in everything he did. A gentle and warm light always seemed to shine upon him.

“Everyone loved him. They praised him. But, I was different–only I knew his true nature!”

“His true nature?”

“That’s right. I was the only one who saw through his arrogance and hypocrisy!” The count suddenly became excited. The next words poured out quickly, “He smiled on the outside as if he were nice, but he was indifferent and aloof–you and your father both. Everyone must be so amusing in your Anies eyes! You, the rulers of the golden fields!” 

“…Did my father do something to you…?”

“I’d rather he have done something. The Duke and I met when we were ten years old. I tried so hard over the years to get along with him, but he didn’t care. When we met, he would nod his head to greet me without much sincerity; even if we made eye contact, he would never take the initiative to talk first. He was that way with everyone!” The count clenched his fist as he shook. He was as angry as if only two days had passed since he encountered the former duke.

Luisen felt so awkward. To think that the count–an unrelated man–could remember his father so vividly when even he–the son–could not do so.

“Those bastards–do they think I approached him because I liked him? No, I hated him,” the count continued.

During the count’s youth, there were many events where the lords of the Southern territories would foster friendships and networks amongst themselves. At such gatherings, the adults would praise the predecessor duke until spittle flew out of their mouths. ‘As expected, the blood of the vaunted duchy is different–what an outstanding descendant of a great family.’ Basking in everyone’s attention, the previous duke proudly boasted of his excellence.

In contrast, the count received no attention. Neither the household, nor the abilities, nor the appearance of the count surpassed those of the previous duke. The count’s abilities were decent when viewed in isolation but paled when compared with the duke. Through the previous duke, the count learned how a person could become so miserable and pathetic.

He was merely a successor to a county, lacking in presence and mediocre in ability; he was left in limbo. He was comparatively so dull, living and dying without significance.

Gradually, inferiority built up within the count, “It would have been better if he wasn’t so brilliant. He stood out no matter where he went.”

Even if he disliked it, his eyes kept lingering on the previous duke. If the duke couldn’t be seen, he looked for the man anxiously; any place without the duke couldn’t keep his interest.

Even decades later, the count remembered these youthful years well.

At a social gathering in the capital, he found himself hiding behind a pillar, observing the previous duke surrounded by his followers–always at the center of attention in the most splendid spot. Seeing that sight, a fire ignited within the count. Then, their eyes met. The count harbored some inexplicable hope, but the previous duke’s gaze merely passed him by indifferently.

He couldn’t forget the misery he felt at that time.

“This world is irrational. Why must someone have everything while others must be satisfied with nothing?” the count murmured melancholically.

‘Even you, as someone noble-born, lived your life without lacking anything, didn’t you?’ Luisen managed to swallow down a retort that threatened to erupt from his lips.

“That’s why I fell into devil worship.”

When his resentment against the world reached its peak, he met the cult leader of the demon worshippers. At that time, there were hardly any other members in the cult, so he could hardly call that person a leader. However, the count was fascinated by demon worshiping.

“Heretical worship made me special.” The count gained unimaginable strength through demonic worship.  With that power, he could summon monsters and manipulate other people.

“The cult leader’s words touched everyone’s heart–this world deserves its own ruination.” The count recounted his determination to bring the leader to his domain and their resolution to burn the world down. He imagined that when the demon worshippers grew in power and the world was thrown into chaos, the previous duke would kneel before the count, thereby proving that the count was also a special existence.

“I’ve been looking forward to that moment, but… I never thought that an unexpected thing could steal his life. I couldn’t endure it–my composure broke down.”

As an epidemic spread throughout the South, the former duke didn’t hesitate to scramble to contain it. Thanks to that, the epidemic was quickly treated and abolished. However, the duke died from that disease. 

His death was too sudden and noble.

The count attended the funeral; he sobbed before the tomb of the predecessor duke. The count could have won–he finally had the ability to win! He could’ve soothed his grudge!

To die at such a young and beautiful age–to leave the world in one swoop of a moment!

Futile! Everything was futile!

Now no matter what he did the count couldn’t surpass the man.

Even in death, the previous duke was perfect.

After that, the count floundered like a cripple for a while. He drowned in a deep sense of helplessness. At that time, the cult leader saved him again.

“The leader said–‘Isn’t there another Duke Anies that remains?’

The count’s eyes flew wide open: yes, the predecessor was dead, but the current duke–whom the previous duke cherished as much as his own life–remained.

What if he could overthrow the Duke of Anies and take the position of ‘Great Lord’ for himself? Unlike the predecessor, who inherited the position, he would have seized it by his own power, proving himself to be superior to the late duke!

“I had made up my mind. I would take for myself the previous duke’s position.”

Everyone had expected a fierce battle between the two princes for the throne as the king became decrepit in his old age. The count aimed for this moment. Taking advantage of the kingdom’s terrible turmoil, he had planned to bring down the Anies duchy.

He was worried that Luisen would resemble the former duke, but, fortunately, Luisen wasn’t even half the man his father was.

“Everything proceeded as planned…Until you suddenly surrendered to Carlton and threw away your ‘fool’ act.”

He had ignored these happenings at first. However, Luisen escaped the count’s grasp and ruined everything that had been planned. He was so angry that he contemplated killing Luisen before the young lord could mess up any more plans.

However, he changed his mind when he actually met Luisen. When the count met him again, the young lord closely resembled his father. Suddenly, the count had no desire to kill him; seeing the young lord’s face revived a deep resentment that roiled and boiled inside.

‘Let’s keep him alive–let’s have him kneel before me.’

The count would proceed as he originally planned. He would drive Luisen’s honor into the ground and erase the Anies duchy from the annals of history.

After the count’s long story, Luisen kept his mouth shut. He had no idea what he should say. Everything was just so, so unbelievable! ‘What in the world! In the end, my father or I did nothing wrong!’

He was worried that the former duke had somehow wronged the count, but everything was just the count’s delusions. All this havoc stemmed from the count’s inferiority complex. 

‘My life in the previous timeline… I suffered just because of this…?’

This reasoning was so unfair that Luisen didn’t even have the words to describe it. The memories of his miserable life during the past three years resurfaced; tears welled up in his eyes because he was just so angry and frustrated.

“How do you feel after learning the truth?”

“…You’re insane.”

“Hahahahaha!” The count laughed, pleased as a peacock. The pleasure of completely subduing Duke Anies coursed through his body.

“My Count.” One of the count’s knights entered the underground prison.

“Ah–the ritual is about to begin. We’ve been conversing for longer than I thought. Shall we slowly say our farewells?” When the count gave a signal, his knight pressed down on Luisen’s shoulder. The young lord struggled, but he could not overcome the well-trained knight’s strength. The count placed his hand atop Luisen’s head.

“You’ll fall asleep for a short while. When you wake up, much will have changed.” The count’s hand touched Luisen’s forehead.

Beeeeep–!

Luisen’s vision shook as a sharp, tinnitus-inducing sound struck and almost ripped through his ear drums. Intense dizziness flooded over him, and his mind drifted far away.

Luisen’s body slumped and drooped like a wooden doll with its strings severed. The count swept back Luisen’s hair with his fingertips. The count projected the face of the man he could never forget onto Luisen’s face. 

“You’ll wander for the rest of your life, watching over my victory,” the count murmured. He had a knight place the young lord in a cage and exited the underground prison. The ritual would begin soon. When all this was over, he would be able to forget the previous duke.

***

The count left the underground prison with a spring to his steps. Now, he was no longer concerned about Luisen–there was no one who would come to his rescue, and his plan should proceed smoothly. Still, just in case, he left two knights to guard the prison.

The count disappeared from the area, and the hall was shrouded in silence.

One.

Two.

Three.

…Ten.

Suddenly, the knight who had been standing on the right drew his sword. In an instant, he subdued and incapacitated the other remaining knight. It all happened so quickly that the other knight couldn’t even utter a scream.

The knight on the right took off his helmet.

It was Carlton, disguised as one of the count’s knights.