Chapter 8
A little while earlier, just as Abel entered the head of the family's room.
"Hmm..."
Sebastian was always waiting by the door, prepared to assist the heir should he faint or panic.
The first mage to arrive had fainted. The second, Lord Kaizen from the North, had screamed. What kind of reaction would Lord Abel show?
'I'm a little curious.'
When he closed his eyes and focused, he could sense the distance between Abel and the head of the family.
After roughly gauging the distance as it slowly grew shorter, Sebastian began his countdown.
"3... 2... 1..."
...
"Hm?"
However, Sebastian opened his eyes and looked toward the door, sensing an unexpected turn of events.
Judging by the distance he could sense, Lord Abel must have experienced death through the head of the family's ability.
He had expected some kind of reaction.
Yet, as if mocking Sebastian's expectations, Abel showed no reaction whatsoever.
'Did he faint?'
Could he have fainted like the first mage?
'No.'
No, that wasn't it. Sebastian's senses once again picked up Abel's presence as he began to move.
Thud!
A moment later, a noise burst from the head of the family's room.
Anyone could see that Abel appeared to have attacked the lord he served.
"Hahaha."
Yet even as he sensed what had happened, Sebastian gave a light laugh.
"Ah, truly. It seems Mist has brought quite an extraordinary candidate for heir."
The head of the family's philosophy was simple: when people die, their true nature is revealed more clearly than at any other time.
That was why the head of the family had prepared a trial in which he used hallucinations to kill each of the illegitimate children once, so he could see their essence and true nature.
Of course, this was something everyone in the family had experienced at least once.
'Ordinary servants experienced it once, knights roughly ten times, and elite assassins up to fifteen times, right?'
Sebastian had never underestimated the other illegitimate children.
They had endured it only because they had been warned beforehand that they would experience death.
A death one prepares for and a sudden death are both death, but the difference between them is like that between heaven and earth.
At this point, Sebastian was curious how long Abel could endure.
'Hmm...'
How long would he last? Judging from the fact that he was still moving and from the noises they could hear, he had already experienced death once.
Common sense suggested that ten times would probably be the absolute limit.
Even if the hallucination caused no physical damage, the mind was another matter.
"I don't know, Mist. You have probably spent more time with Lord Abel than anyone else in this mansion. What do you think? How long do you think he can endure?"
As he spoke, Sebastian looked at Mist, who had stood with her hands politely folded and hadn't moved an inch since Abel entered the head of the family's room.
"...Hard to say. I'm no different from you; I don't know Lord Abel either."
As she said that, Mist thought back to her conversation with Abel.
The answer she had reached by combining and extrapolating his abilities, temperament, and capacity.
"I think he could endure thirty times."
"...Isn't that greatly overestimating him?"
At Sebastian's words, she offered no rebuttal. She merely closed her eyes as though she had stated the obvious.
After roughly thirty minutes had passed.
Bang!
The head of the family's door flew open with a violent noise.
At the same time, smoke like fog engulfed Sebastian and Mist.
'Is this... cigar smoke?'
The smell of cigar smoke reached the tip of his nose.
Step. Step.
Before long, Abel emerged through the thick cigar smoke.
His hair was disheveled, but he showed no injuries or signs of internal damage.
His gait, breathing—everything about him was normal.
Abel exhaled cigar smoke as he began walking toward Sebastian.
"Welcome back, Lord Abel."
Step.
"You must be exhausted in body and mind."
Step.
"Shall I escort you to your room...?"
However, Abel ignored Sebastian completely and continued walking forward.
"The ability is a hallucination... Yet it's a hallucination that exists in reality... How do I counter it...? No, that attack was blocked, so something else... Hmm, I deliberately didn't use that, but maybe I should next time..."
Watching Abel walk forward while muttering to himself, Mist spoke to Sebastian, who looked somewhat flustered.
"...I believe Lord Abel failed to react because he was reviewing the battle, Chief Butler."
"Huh... That's remarkable."
The battle with his master, Lord Serban, was against the person ranked first among the Empire's ability users—the very opponent nobody wanted to fight.
Naturally. Who would want to experience death in a duel or battle?
Sebastian knew this well, having faced the duke himself and tasted death three times in a row through hallucinations.
Impressed by Abel's mental fortitude, Sebastian soon regained his composure and quickly issued orders.
"Mist, attend to Lord Abel. I'll check on the head of the family."
"Yes..."
After confirming that Mist had politely bowed her head, Sebastian immediately moved toward the head of the family's room, pushing through the thick cigar smoke.
'Hmm...? Is that breath?'
The first sensation he felt upon entering the head of the family's room was the temperature.
The temperature in the room had dropped far more than he could have imagined. It was about as cold as early winter.
As if to prove his thoughts correct, white breath swirled through Sebastian's field of vision despite being inside the building.
'Huh. He really went on a rampage.'
The head of the family's room, visible through the slowly settling cigar smoke, was practically half-destroyed.
One wall that had once shone brilliantly with all sorts of ornaments had been crushed as if struck by a giant,
while another wall bore conspicuous marks from being slashed to pieces by a sharp blade.
At the center of the half-destroyed room, the duke sat on the edge of the bed, covering his mouth with one hand.
"Is that you, Sebastian...? *Cough.*"
"Yes, Lord Serban. Lord Abel is..."
As he spoke, Sebastian examined the condition of his master.
Poison that had already penetrated to his marrow made him look as though he could die at any moment.
Though he was prolonging his life with an immense amount of mana, his body was in such a state that it would not have been strange for him to die at any moment.
Yet.
"Have you suffered such internal injuries?"
Sebastian's eyes began to grow cold as he looked at the dead blood flowing from the corner of the duke's mouth.
"Heh heh... Yeah, he got me with one blow."
"To think you could actually fight Lord Serban."
In the past, the Empire had been vast—far more vast than its administrative power could cover.
That was only natural, since communication magic tools capable of calling across great distances had not yet been invented.
That was why the emperor of the old Empire granted autonomy to the most outstanding among his closest retainers.
The family that became the ruler of the South through that autonomy was...
House Nebla.
Naturally, the head of such a family had to be powerful.
If the leader who controlled the underworld was weak, he would be nothing more than easy prey.
Chosen in keeping with that family's tradition, Serban was a powerhouse recognized as the strongest Nebla in history.
"What a monster..."
Even if the poison had kept him from his prime, his mastery of his ability was worthy of the title of strongest in the Empire.
And yet a man who had only just reached adulthood had managed to inflict internal injuries on such a powerhouse.
"Kheh heh heh."
Ignoring Sebastian's quiet admiration behind him, the duke let out a mad laugh as he tasted the metallic flavor of blood rising from his throat.
44.
The number of times Abel had experienced death, though he had yet to tell Sebastian.
“What a madman.”
Moreover, even those forty-four deaths had been closer to Abel deliberately dying.
A hallucination was a hallucination. It wasn't as though he was really dying.
Then it was better to experience death and land an effective blow on the duke.
That madman had acted on that judgment in the middle of the fight.
A judgment no one could make unless they had a screw loose somewhere in their head.
A monster? No, that wasn't it.
Abel wasn't some paltry existence that could be sorted into the category of monster.
...
To be honest, he had been more than a little disappointed in those supposed heirs the assassins had sent him.
One had fainted, and the other was the sort who let out an ugly scream.
Even if the family's current situation was poor, they were far too lacking in ability.
Amid expectations of the family's bleak future, an existence named Abel had appeared.
"...Cough."
Blood stained the bed once more. His own blood—what a sight!
It was exhilarating. Utterly exhilarating.
His strength, his mind, his body, his talent—he liked every bit of it.
"Sebastian."
Without even wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth, Serban smiled lightly.
"I won't... cough... state any opinion regarding the selection of the next head of the family..."
"Lord Serban?"
Yet even if he liked Abel, he could not simply hand over the position of head of the family.
Such a choice did not suit his temperament or the family's motto.
"Tell each of the illegitimate children."
He had intended to stand by and watch.
The two illegitimate children had inspired neither interest nor any other emotion in him.
What fun was there in interfering with a fight between such illegitimate children?
But circumstances had changed.
"To become head of this family, first seize control of the family."
He had not even intended to tell them the path to becoming head of the family.
And
"Report Abel's actions to me."
***
The battle with the duke. The garden he stopped at while walking along, replaying that battle.
Judging by the duke's personality, Abel had not thought he would bother tending a garden like this, but surprisingly, it was a proper garden.
After reclining in one of the terrace chairs provided in the garden, he tried to light another cigar.
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't smoke cigars here."
"Huh...?"
"I said not to smoke cigars."
But there was already someone else in that garden.
Her appearance looked strict at a glance. She was an expressionless woman with tightly pursed lips, though her blank expression had a slightly different quality from Mist's.
If Mist's expressionless face was one that completely restrained all emotion,
this woman's expression looked down on and dismissed everyone other than herself as being beneath her.
"Haa?"
In other words, she was what people called an annoying woman.