Chapter 70
“If you do that, your mother and younger sibling will die.”
Lerazie answered coldly, cutting him off.
Only when the man saw the gleaming blue blade did he finally grasp the situation and nod quickly.
By now, the Emperor’s men would already be swarming around the man’s residence.
If it became known that Lerazie had failed to assassinate him, the Emperor’s next move was obvious.
“He’ll brand him a traitor and execute his entire family.”
“So if you want to save your family, leave. When the surveillance eases, you might be able to hear news of them.”
Even so, no news of the man could ever reach his family.
They had to believe he was dead—only then would his family be safe.
Realizing this truth, the man wept silently. He covered his mouth, his shoulders shaking as he cried—a pitiful sight.
Lerazie did not comfort him, nor did he soothe him. He simply stood by the man in silence.
“…Thank you.”
At last, having let go of his lingering attachments, the man rose to his feet.
“You must now abandon that name, Baron Fromm.”
The man flinched at Lerazie’s words, then gave a slight nod.
Before boarding a smuggler’s ship bound for another country, the Baron gave his final farewell.
“I will never forget this debt. And please… take care of my family.”
Lerazie answered only with a nod.
Moments later, the ship left the harbor. Once the flickering lights disappeared completely, the black sea sank into silent slumber.
“Your Highness.”
Aegis called to Lerazie from behind.
He, too, carried a rare solemnity.
“Did you retrieve it?”
“Yes.”
Turning around, Lerazie saw a large, long bag—like a burlap sack—at Aegis’s side.
For a moment, a shadow passed over his face.
He lifted the bag. Its heavy weight was undeniable—the weight of a life.
A life now departed.
“The body was a little thinner from illness, but the build is nearly identical.”
They had buried the deceased, then stolen the corpse immediately after the funeral.
A necessary deception to fool the Emperor. But that didn’t mean there was no guilt.
Even in death, dignity should be preserved.
“…”
Sensing his lord’s unease, Aegis quickly added,
“We compensated them well. As much as they wished. They said they would move once the mourning period was over.”
“You’ve done well.”
Carrying the bag, Lerazie strode forward.
“Return to the capital first.”
He always handled the final step alone.
He didn’t want to drag others into danger.
“Yes. Please be careful, Your Highness.”
Knowing his master’s heart, Aegis bowed deeply before vanishing into the darkness.
Lerazie circulated mana through his body and leapt into the air.
Before long, he arrived at a warehouse on the outskirts of the capital.
The moment he opened the door, the stench of oil rushed out. Aegis had prepared it ahead of time.
All sorts of messy crates and trash were piled against three walls.
At the center stood a chair bound with ropes, beside a table littered randomly with blades.
It looked like a secret chamber prepared for dragging in victims and torturing them.
Lerazie walked to the center, setting the bag down beside the chair.
Moments later, with a deafening boom, the warehouse exploded, engulfed in flames.
The next day, every newspaper in the capital splashed Baron Fromm’s “tragic accident” across the front page.
Days later, reports spread that the once-feared serial killer—who had terrorized the capital—seemed to have resumed his spree.
The articles featured photos of gruesome torture tools found among the charred remains, alongside descriptions of the killer’s brutality.
And while those who knew the truth kept their silence, the news spread far and wide.
Nearly two weeks later, Lerazie visited the Verdí estate.
“His Highness, the Seventh Prince, has arrived.”
“Lerazie?”
Calliope sprang up from her seat and rushed down the stairs. Through the open front door, she saw Lerazie entering.
Seeing his unscathed face only fueled her anger.
Really? Not sick, not injured—yet not a single word of news?
“It’s been a long while, hasn’t it?”
The biting tone slipped out without her meaning it.
“How did such a busy man find the time to come here?”
“I’m not busy anymore.”
A vein bulged on Calliope’s forehead.
“Damn it. He doesn’t even consider the people who worry about him, does he?”
She was just about to unleash a barrage of words when, behind Lerazie, a mop of fluffy green hair peeked out.
“Prince Arsène?!”
In an instant, Calliope’s scowl melted into a bright smile, as if she’d never been angry at all.
“He said he was sure he had a way—and he actually did it, didn’t he?”
Glancing at Lerazie, she quickly approached Arsène.
Placing her hands on her knees, she bent down to meet his eyes.
“Welcome to our home, Your Highness!”
She even waved her hands cheerfully. Lerazie let out a dry sigh.
“Looks like you’re happier to see him than me.”
Still beaming at Arsène, Calliope whipped her head around and snapped,
“Of course! Have you no shame?”
Then, turning back with a gentle smile, she took Arsène’s hand.
“Would you like to see your room, Your Highness? Shall we go together?”
As she made to leave swiftly with Arsène, Lerazie grabbed her.
“Wait—what about my room?”
“…?”
“…?”
Calliope looked at him as though he’d grown another head. Lerazie’s golden eyes wavered fiercely.
“Wait. You were the one who told me to come here. You said there was a nice room. You even said you’d remodel it. That wasn’t when you were drunk, either. So why are you acting like this now?”
When his expression silently asked, Calliope retorted,
“Do you really need to ask?”
“Yes.”
“…”
“Wait, don’t tell me you expect to just move in—”
The murderous glint in her eyes made Lerazie stumble back with both hands raised in defense.
“For someone who’s usually annoyingly perceptive, you’re dense like a bear at times like this.”
He’s doing this on purpose, isn’t he?
She muttered under her breath, then turned away sharply, the air around her going icy cold.
Click! Like a lightning strike, realization hit Lerazie.
“…She’s sulking—no, she’s angry.”
He recalled how she had come running down the stairs earlier, almost tripping in her haste, only to flare up at him the moment she saw him.
No way…
“…Were you worried about me?”
“Of course I was!”
Calliope’s voice trembled.
“You vanished saying you had somewhere to go, then for over ten days—not a word, not a message.”
Once she started, she couldn’t stop, the words tumbling out in rapid fire.
“Did you ever think about the people left waiting, not knowing if you were alive or dead? And now, after two whole weeks, you show up shamelessly like nothing happened?”
Lerazie’s mouth fell open.
“Wait, hold on, I—”
He stammered, utterly tongue-tied.
It wasn’t that Calliope Verdi was angry—he had seen far worse outbursts from her at the Academy.
What shocked him was something else entirely.
“She worried… that much? About me?”
Calliope Verdi?
It was almost impossible to believe, but her expression left no room for doubt. And so, before he realized it, Lerazie muttered,
“S-sorry.”
“….”
Calliope’s sharply arched brows twitched—then softened.
Clearing her throat with a small cough, she spoke primly.
“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”
Lerazie frowned.
“You heard me.”
“I really didn’t.”
Her feigned innocence was infuriating, but since he was guilty, he had no choice. Lerazie repeated himself.
“I didn’t know you’d worry so much. I’m sorry.”
“O-oh… okay.”
Not expecting such a straightforward apology, Calliope’s eyes widened.
But her surprise faded quickly, swept away like dust—because Lerazie immediately got to the point.
“Now tell me which room is mine.”
“Ha. Be honest—you only apologized because you didn’t want to sleep outside, right?”
“No way! Do you think I’d be so opportunistic?”
You absolutely would. Calliope narrowed her eyes.
“Anyway—where’s the room? You’re not going to tell me?”
Unbelievable. Calliope glared at him, stubbornly standing her ground.
“Head out the back, walk a hundred steps northeast, and you’ll find your room.”
Lerazie mentally mapped out the route—then his face twisted.
“That’s the stables.”
