Chapter 106
A foreboding feeling washed over Hannibal. He suddenly remembered Smith’s slip of the tongue earlier when he handed over Count Arthur’s letter.
“Y-Yes, my lord. Lord Benton… no, ah, Count Arthur told me to deliver this.”
Seeing the situation now, it was obvious the two of them were in cahoots.
Why on earth would his father conspire with some Duke Benton to disgrace their family?
Hannibal couldn’t understand him at all.
He turned on his heel and strode toward the detached wing. The moment he reached his father’s room he flung the door wide open without knocking.
“You’re late, Hannibal.”
The first voice to greet him was Gray’s.
“You coward…!”
“Enough—don’t come any closer!”
As soon as he grasped what was happening, Hannibal glared at him with murderous eyes, but Gray stood his ground confidently and Hannibal couldn’t take a single step forward.
Because Anne lay unconscious, threatened by Gray’s well-honed dagger.
The blade hovered perilously close to her throat, as if it could slit it at any second.
“Do you have no honor at all?!” Hannibal barked in disgust, but Gray paid him no mind.
Hannibal was ready to rush in at the slightest opening, but because Anne was being held, he could only hesitate, his toes faltering.
Gray curled his lip at that hesitation.
“If I can’t have her, neither can you. I won’t hand her back in one piece, Hannibal Clyde.”
He snickered like a madman.
“You despicable brat…”
Not long ago this man had begged and cried for love — and now he revealed a murderous intent.
And frustratingly for Hannibal, he was utterly unable to act against that threat.
Gray’s sneer deepened. Even while facing a near-explosive Hannibal, he toyed with the silver blade, twirling it by Anne’s neck as if enjoying himself.
“Duke Benton, have you forgotten our appointed time?” Count Arthur stepped in, having watched from a corner while the two faced off for a while.
Miss Mighty had taken the golden key, so they needed to meet her without delay. Only then did Gray nod toward Count Arthur.
Arthur took a pocket watch from his coat, checked it, and then approached his son.
“Hannibal.”
When called in a weary voice, Hannibal snapped his head around with sharp eyes.
“Father, what are you plotting with Gray? Why—why would you betray your family and house?”
Arthur made no special reply to the predictable resentment and suspicion. He simply trudged forward and held out his hand.
“Hand over Asad’s ring.”
Something distant and unfamiliar lay behind his father’s calm eyes. Hannibal had no room even to feel the sting of disappointment or sadness.
He wanted to throw his father aside and kill Gray right then.
“Father!”
Seeing that Hannibal did not move, Arthur stepped closer, took Hannibal’s hand, and gripped it.
“Is Anne Pero really your weakness, Hannibal?”
At those words, the tightness in Hannibal’s clenched fist dissolved. With a look of contempt, Count Arthur removed the ring from his son’s finger.
“Father, what did Duke Benton promise you? Is it worth betraying the Clydes?” Hannibal could only hand his own hand over helplessly and bare his teeth at Gray.
He watched, powerless, as the ring was slowly taken from him.
Because of the scum standing behind the Count, clutching Anne and threatening her with a blade.
“I made a bargain with the witch, Hannibal.”
A bargain? That was the first Hannibal had heard of such a thing, and his eyes widened.
“You probably thought that Clyde was only there for you. Just like your mother.”
Arthur’s eyes flashed with a crazed light as he glared at Hannibal.
Hannibal had never known warmth between father and son, but this was the first time he’d seen his father spew such long-bottled feelings; he was simply bewildered.
“Clyde will pay for a lifetime of putting me aside.”
The bitter hatred he spat out was aimed beyond his son.
“Father?”
Arthur gripped Asad’s ring tightly in his hand and continued.
“Why would you give your heart to a mere maid, tsk tsk.”
With a look of disgust he turned his back on Hannibal.
Then the Count stepped beside Gray. Gray still held the blue blade close to Anne’s throat.
Hannibal cried out in alarm.
“Do not hurt Anne, Gray Benton. If you have even the slightest feeling left for her, you wouldn’t dare harm her.”
Count Arthur added his voice to Gray.
“Release the maid now. We’ve already gotten what we wanted.”
“No. I’m taking Anne with me.”
When the Count blinked in surprise at the unexpected reply, Gray pulled something from his coat and spread it open.
A small handkerchief-like cloth dropped to the ground and immediately glowed, a large magic circle appearing as it shone.
“Hannibal, if you move, Anne will not be safe.”
If only he had been a bit more rational, a bit less frightened.
Maybe then Hannibal could have done something to stop Gray. But from the moment the silver blade flashed by the face of the unconscious Anne, he had been completely frozen.
“You can’t take Anne into the Witch’s Forest—”
“Shut up and follow me!”
Gray shouted as he slung Anne over his shoulder, and the light that poured from the magic circle swallowed even the hesitant Count Arthur.
The cloth—and the light—vanished with a soft pop, and in an instant the space where they’d been stood empty, leaving only Hannibal, dazed and alone.
The Witch’s Forest?
Besides Clyde, a witch’s contractor and contracted blood-bound could enter the Witch’s Forest.
Hannibal looked down at his right index finger, now empty.
Why had they gone to the trouble of using Anne Pero to snatch Asad’s ring? It must mean someone had to go into the Witch’s Forest.
Who could it be? Could it be the First Prince’s scheme? And what had Duke Benton offered his father as a price for such cooperation?
Hannibal hurried toward the main house’s underground floor. The guards standing watch at its entrance were startled to see him arrive at such a late hour.
“My lord?”
“Tell Oliver to lock up servant Smith and find all of Duke Benton’s men. Especially check the life and safety of Jamie Pero. And tell Victoria to keep the manor safe—we’re going to the Witch’s Forest.”
He was too rushed to wake the footmen or call for the steward to relay orders properly.
“Yes, sir!”
The guards were descendants of reliable families that had guarded the Clydes for generations. One of them ran off to carry the orders.
Hannibal, having dispatched the message, immediately took out a movement scroll as soon as he entered.
Without hesitation he tore the page, and the light swallowed him quickly.
“Oof!”
With a thud, Count Arthur and Gray landed near the Witch’s Forest.
Anne collapsed over Gray with a flop. The Count eyed him reproachfully as if he’d brought a heavy load and clicked his tongue.
“Why did you bring her here! Hannibal could be on our heels this moment!”
“And what could he do if he came?”
He’d seen earlier that Hannibal had been helpless. Gray set Anne down on one side and snorted.
Count Arthur, still looking grim, added his warning.
“There’s no point in needlessly provoking him.”
“You were so quick to scold your son—are you secretly afraid?” Gray taunted.
A seasoned warlord of the West facing a newly minted duke from the capital wasn’t a fair match.
It wasn’t only about military might.
Arthur stared at the forest, its blackness more oppressive than the night sky, and spoke.
“Be careful now that we’re at the Witch’s Forest. The witch Moira isn’t merciful unless it’s Clyde.”
“Isn’t the Count a Clyde as well? You came to keep a promise to the witch, yet you appear worried.”
“The Duke knows the witch’s power.”
Arthur smoothed back his hair slowly. His fingertips trembled a little.
Gray, who had only recently learned that Arthur had a contract with the witch, peered at the forest with no small curiosity.
“Well, we’ll see when we meet her.”
The Witch’s Forest was densely packed with gnarled, twisted trees so tightly interlaced that even a child’s hand could not penetrate them.
As if forming a solid wall, the growth annoyed Gray.
“Where is the entrance?”
He paced around; it was his first time in the Witch’s Forest.
“The witch will open it when the time’s right. She already knows we’re here.”
“Is it because we don’t have the golden key that it won’t open? If so, Miss Mighty should hurry.”
Just as Gray and Arthur stamped their feet in impatience, a wide band of light formed behind them and Miss Mighty appeared.
“Right on time.”
Arthur welcomed Miss Mighty, but Gray, impatient, reached out immediately.
“Give me the golden key.”
Miss Mighty twitched her brow at Gray’s anxiousness—more frantic than the Count’s—and promptly floated the golden key into the air.
“And Asad’s ring?”
Arthur stepped forward at her question.
“Here it is.”
The ring flew from his hand into Miss Mighty’s waiting palm.
“…!”
The two men watched her in alarm, but Miss Mighty soon handed the floating golden key back to Count Arthur.
“Phew.”
The Count finally let out a relieved breath; he had feared Miss Mighty might seize Asad’s ring and keep the golden key as well.
“Then let’s go in.”
“Indeed.”
When Miss Mighty nodded at the Duke’s words, Count Arthur clenched the golden key and stood at the forest’s edge.
“Witch, we have come to keep our promise!”
At that moment the Witch’s Forest, which had no visible gaps through the thick trees, began to stir and move.
The trees flexed like supple animals and parted, opening a path in an instant.
“Wow.”
Gray couldn’t help but exclaim. Miss Mighty, however, kept her gaze fixed steadily on the Witch’s Forest.
“This is…the entrance.”
A path that had never been found before stretched straight from the beginning of the entrance into the unseen interior.
“Let’s hurry. Before Hannibal catches up.”
