CHAPTER 19……………………………………..
“Apologies.”
“No—rather, it’s a relief you didn’t act rashly. Any injuries?”
“None. Everyone is safe.”
As he replied, Ruth’s eyes shimmered with emotion and pride.
Working in a noble’s manor, one riddled with all kinds of magic, was never easy for commoners. The pay was high, but many were injured or even lost their lives while working in noble estates—and that was considered normal.
After all, they were mere notches—the incompetent. To nobles, common laborers were nothing more than consumables.
But the Northdian ducal estate was different.
Ever since the blond duke he had served since childhood inherited the title, no servant in this manor had been treated like a disposable tool. Because of that, everyone who worked for House Northdian was filled with pride.
Just as they were nearing the West Wing, Rektarion turned around.
“Oh. And from now on, if any noble guests arrive, guide them all to the West Wing. Lady Eloa will be staying in the main residence.”
Ruth hesitated for a moment at the instruction.
The duke was known to be merciless to anyone outside his inner circle—especially to women. And after his conflict with Princess Cecilia reached its peak, there had been virtually no women who dared approach him for several years.
Yet now he had returned with a cute young lady in tow. When he had caught her as she stumbled earlier, all the servants had been so shocked their jaws nearly dropped.
Normally, he would have ignored anyone who fell.
“Perhaps…”
Looking at the thick gloves covering Rektarion’s hands, Ruth smiled warmly.
“Yes. I will serve her with utmost care.”
It was then, just as they were about to reach the West Wing, that a junior butler came running toward them in a panic.
“Master! Something terrible has happened!”
“What is it?”
“Count Royster has gone to the main residence!”
Even without hearing the rest, Rektarion understood. Upon hearing of his arrival, that impatient man must have entered the main residence without permission.
Just as he was about to say, What’s the problem with that?, realization struck him, and Rektarion immediately turned and ran toward the main residence.
“Damn it!”
At that very moment, the small, squirrel-like young lady was alone in the main residence.
The reception room became a powder keg in an instant.
After seeing Eloa collapsed limply on the floor, Rektarion turned his gaze to Count Royster.
“What do you think you’re doing, Count?”
Killing intent seeped into Rektarion’s voice.
“Th-that is…”
Count Royster felt cornered at being caught red-handed using magic by Rektarion.
Rektarion Eden Northdian—mage hunter and aura master.
A name that made every mage on the continent tremble at the thought of appearing before him. No matter how much one might look down on him as a notch, his fame and authority were undeniable.
Stammering, Count Royster scrambled for excuses.
“T-that notch woman was trying to touch the family heirloom, so I—”
“Enough.”
Rektarion raised a hand and cut him off. The firm gesture, unlike his usual mild demeanor, made the count flinch into silence.
Rektarion knelt on one knee beside Eloa, removed his glove, and brought his fingers close to her nose. Her shallow breathing was steady—she had only fainted.
“Phew.”
Letting out a sigh of relief, he put his glove back on and immediately lifted her into his arms. Seeing her unconscious state had turned his mind blank; for a moment, he wasn’t even aware of what he was doing.
As he stood, he paused.
‘Is this really the weight of a person?’
She was far too light.
“Please make sure I’m fed properly during the contract period.”
He remembered the condition she had stated, her round eyes like golden marbles.
‘Yes… I really must make sure she eats well.’
As he turned with her in his arms, Count Royster glared at them with a twisted expression.
Glancing at the gold clock atop the fireplace, Rektarion spoke.
“Count, that is a replica. And even if it were the real heirloom, attacking a woman who will soon become my wife and the Duchess of Northdian constitutes insubordination.”
“Insubordination?! Your Grace! You truly intend to make that notch woman your duchess? Lady Enrilke will never allow it!”
Royster shouted in outrage, but Rektarion merely scoffed.
“I fail to see whose permission I would need, aside from His Majesty the Emperor’s.”
For once, he spoke without a smile—a cold expression unbefitting the ever-smiling Duke of Northdian.
“And attacking an innocent non-mage with magic is a crime forbidden by His Majesty himself. If you don’t wish to be arrested on the spot, I suggest you keep quiet.”
A crime. That meant Royster had just handed Rektarion justification to attack him. A chill ran down the count’s spine.
“B-but she has some mana, doesn’t she? S-so she’s not a true notch. Th-that means I did nothing wrong.”
Had Eloa heard that, she would have clutched the back of her neck and collapsed again. Thinking that he seemed to be hearing an awful lot of nonsense lately, Rektarion checked her condition.
Her breathing was faint—she didn’t look well at all.
His impatience grew.
As he moved toward the door, Count Royster followed, spewing more drivel.
“The Dowager Lady worries greatly about you, Your Grace. Yet instead of heeding her concern, you insist on taking a notch as your bride! That is not befitting of House Northdian. Really now—what kind of house do you think this is!”
The barrage of nonsense finally made Rektarion stop.
“It is my house. Not yours. I’ve always thought this, but Count Royster…”
Under Rektarion’s oppressive red gaze, the count swallowed dryly.
“You seem to have no sense of your place. For a mere count to address me without permission.”
A cold smile crossed Rektarion’s face. The open mockery, unlike his usual demeanor, flushed the count’s face with humiliation.
‘For the husband of an aunt who died without ever seeing her children to inherit a title and dare call himself a cadet branch…’
It was laughable.
Perhaps the term notch suited that incompetent man, bloated with nothing but desire, far more than the feather-light woman in his arms.
There was no way Royster had entered this manor on his own initiative—the one pulling the strings must have been Dowager Lady Enrilke.
He had thought she would restrain herself a little after he inherited the title, but it seemed she was still desperate to meddle in Northdian affairs.
The foul stench he’d sensed earlier seemed to have grown stronger.
Even while reading the room, Count Royster couldn’t hide his irritation at being dismissed.
“Ahem! Even so, I am your uncle by marriage—your words are far too harsh—”
“Count.”
Finally losing patience, Rektarion smiled brightly.
“You would do well to stop testing my patience.”
Seeing the golden aura flicker at Rektarion’s fingertips, Count Royster clapped a hand over his mouth. He remembered the last time Rektarion had tried to “correct his manners”—he’d been slashed at the lips before he could even finish a single spell.
At that moment, servants who must have heard the commotion rushed in. Upon seeing the situation in the reception room, they gasped in shock.
“Master? That shout just now—”
“My goodness—Miss!”
Jace was among them. Rektarion immediately handed Eloa to him.
“Perfect timing. Take the young lady to her room. And call Elden.”
“You… you’re entrusting her to me?”
“Would you rather I keep holding her?”
Isn’t that usually how it goes? Jace wanted to ask, but with Count Royster present, he silently obeyed. As he took her, he too was startled by how light she was.
“Oh dear heavens. What on earth happened for the young lady to faint like this?”
“Hurry and fetch Lord Elden.”
The servants gathered around Eloa, whispering among themselves.
“Grr… these notch wretches…”
The servants had been trembling at his every word earlier, but now, with the notch duke present, they treated him as if he weren’t even there. Enraged, Count Royster began to lose his reason.
“When a notch becomes the head of the house, even the underlings grow insolent.”
At that, the servants’ eyes hardened. Insulting them was one thing—but insulting their proud master was another.
Loosening his tie as if weary of it all, Rektarion issued a warning to the root cause of the chaos.
“Leave my house, Count. If you appear before me again after this moment, the Royster family will be completely erased from Northdian’s lineage.”
“What?! Don’t be ridiculous! Who do you think you are, erasing Royster!”
“Oh dear. When I inherited the title, I believe I erased more than ten cadet branches. Surely you knew that?”
“…!”
Realizing Rektarion was serious, Count Royster trembled with rage.
‘A family I fought so hard to obtain—and a mere notch dares threaten to erase it from the lineage?’
The humiliation was unbearable. Just like he had done at Count Enrilke’s estate days ago, he felt he wouldn’t be satisfied until he made that arrogant bastard crawl on the floor.
“[Keno Baraksha!]”
It was his trump card—a sixth-tier fire explosion spell, cast with the intent to burn the entire manor to the ground. Blue sparks flared at his fingertips as massive flames prepared to erupt.
‘This time, even he won’t be able to block it.’
No matter how perfectly one wielded aura, surely one couldn’t cut fire. Bararing his yellowed teeth, he grinned.
But Count Royster had no way of knowing just how gravely mistaken that assumption was.
“Hah… Using magic before me again.”
A deep smile spread across Rektarion’s lips.
