Chapter 110

The Wastrel of Madness (2)

Adrian and Ellen clashed. This was the result.

THWACK! THWACK!

A savage beating, blow after relentless blow. Everyone trembled in horror.

... What they saw defied everything they knew. Because it wasn't Adrian getting beaten like a dog.

The deputy commander of the Royal Knights. A prodigious knight certain to become a Master within five years. One of the finest fighters in the Kingdom of Battenberg.

That very same Ellen was being beaten to a bloody pulp.

By none other than Adrian. The wastrel of a count's house.

... They simply couldn't accept the reality before their eyes. The Royal Knights could only stare blankly at the merciless violence.

"Wh-what are you doing?! Kill that wastrel bastard right now!!!"

Only Walter's command snapped the Royal Knights out of their daze. Fear and terror had stiffened their bodies, but they would not be cowed.

The Royal Knights were the kingdom's most elite order of knights. They stood on an entirely different level from ordinary knights. No one in the kingdom could stand against them.

"Don't rush in recklessly! Maintain formation!" the knight at the front shouted.

The Royal Knights attacked in perfect coordination. They were like a torrential storm—

"Wh-what is this...?!"

"Aaargh!"

But however fiercely a storm poured down, rain could not wet the sea. Adrian subdued even the Royal Knights in an instant.

Ellen, one of the kingdom's finest fighters, and the Royal Knights, hailed as its best, all lay on the floor.

... Walter couldn't accept it.

"H-how...?"

How could a mere wastrel from a count's house do this?!

"Y-you...!"

Walter picked up a fallen sword. The moment Adrian's eyes fixed on him, he realized how terribly mistaken he had been.

Adrian...was utterly beyond reason. He was a fucking wastrel beyond all reason!

'I-I'm going to die!'

BOOOOM!

The deafening roar shook his entire body. Yet he felt no impact. Opening the eyes he had squeezed shut, he found Adrian's face right in front of his.

"Your Highness, a Blacksmith I know well once said this, too."

Adrian's eyes flashed. They spoke.

"To a man holding a hammer, everything in the world looks like a nail."

Act up again, prince or not, and I'll hammer your fucking head into the wall like a nail, Walter. That was what he meant.

With those words, Adrian turned his back, leaving himself completely defenseless. Yet Walter couldn't summon the courage to swing his sword.

At some point, the crotch of his trousers had grown wet. Beneath it, a large yellow puddle was forming.

* * *

As I turned away after warning Walter—

◆The duration of the transcendent skill, Berserk[B-], has ended.

◆The rank of the skill, Promote Metabolism[B-], returns to its original rank of [C+].

◆The effects of the super-combination skill, Accelerated Heartbeat[E], expire.

Berserk[?] ended with perfect timing. It was a shame to spend the Sanity I'd worked so hard to accumulate, but...

'They were tricky opponents.'

The Royal Knights were still the Royal Knights. Ellen, in particular, was by no means a poor fighter.

In truth, I wasn't skilled enough to overwhelm Ellen. Even with Berserk[?], I wasn't capable of dominating him like this.

But Slime Cell[B-] had expanded my joints' range of motion, taking my movements and attacks beyond human limits. And by concealing myself from sight with Assimilation[C+], I had made my position and path of movement utterly unpredictable.

'There's no doubt.'

I had surpassed the Predator of my previous life.

As I dismissed the messages, the palace hall came fully into view, reduced to a complete shambles. No one had died, but it looked like the middle of a battlefield.

Ellen, beaten to a bloody pulp. The Royal Knights, sprawled across the floor. Walter, who had pissed himself. And Edmund, the lord chamberlain, utterly at a loss.

"Wh-what is this...?"

The lord chamberlain held a position akin to the king's secretary or aide. His duties were similar to Bernard's in Whitewolf county. But because he served a monarch rather than a territorial lord, he ranked as high as a count.

At the heart of the royal court, Edmund had witnessed every kind of political intrigue and scheme. He was a veteran who had weathered every imaginable ordeal and then some. But perhaps this was his first time experiencing anything as insane as someone running riot in the palace.

"Uh... Urrgh...!!"

Edmund had lost the power of speech. His face was pale, his gaze wandering aimlessly. Frozen in place, he was struck speechless by something beyond mere horror.

Even the lord chamberlain couldn't contain his shock. In other words, cleaning up this insane mess would be very, very, very difficult.

'The Sovereign of Darkness might have to intervene personally.'

It might appear in person and use the Authority of Oblivion to make this entire incident as though it had never happened.

And then?

All I had to do was observe the Sovereign of Darkness.

That was precisely the outcome I'd been hoping for. Either way, I had nothing to lose. Whatever tricks it tried, it would still be in the palm of my hand.

'Now, what's your next move?'

The darkness concealing the Sovereign of Darkness was already being torn apart.

Soon, the metallic clatter of armor came from the far end of the palace corridor. Knights were approaching in perfect formation.

"By order of the royal court, we will arrest those responsible for this disturbance! Any resistance will result in immediate execution!"

They were Royal Knights who had come to arrest none other than me. It was only natural after I'd run riot in the palace. And there was no reason to make trouble for them, too.

"I won't resist."

I obediently raised both hands.

But at that very moment, a piercing shout rang out.

"Absolutely not!"

Seraphia darted in front of me, placing herself between the Royal Knights and me with both arms spread wide. Her ruby-red eyes began to shine pure white.

CRAAAAACK!!

An explosive blast of intense cold engulfed the palace in an instant. The marble floor froze over. Sharp icicles formed on the ceiling and walls. White frost coated the Royal Knights' armor, and their weapons became frozen lumps of metal they couldn't draw.

And there stood Seraphia, wreathed in swirling, snowflake-like ice crystals.

"I won't let you arrest Brother!!"

As the frost-sharp cold spread into every corner of the palace, I closed my eyes and swallowed a sigh.

'... Iliana, what on earth did you make for her?'

* * *

Word of the sudden rampage in the palace spread in an instant.

Nobles from every region had already gathered in the capital for the court's social season. And rumors, even trivial ones, had a way of spreading like wildfire.

"Have you heard the news?"

"News? What news?"

"About what happened at the palace yesterday!"

The incident was soon the talk of the nobility. The rumors truly spread in an instant. And once they heard the full story, the nobles all had the same reaction.

"Wow!"

An exclamation of amazement.

"He's a complete fucking wastrel!"

Because there had never been another wastrel quite like him.

Adrian Whitewolf, the wastrel of a count's house. Everyone in the Kingdom of Battenberg had heard the rumors about him. But this rampage in the palace was on an entirely different scale.

"I hear Prince Walter was the target of his rampage."

What wastrel in all the world would dare go after a prince? And in the palace, no less. This was the work of a wastrel among wastrels, an act of madness only an absolute fucking wastrel would commit.

"A son of House Whitewolf really did that?"

"So they say. It seems Sir Ellen was seriously injured as a result."

"Sir Ellen... You mean the deputy commander of the Royal Knights?"

"Are you saying that wastrel beat Sir Ellen?"

"Is that...even possible?"

The unbelievable rumors swept through the nobility in an instant. Yet there were too many witnesses to deny them: the palace maids and servants who had been there. In particular, the revelation that the lord chamberlain, Edmund Harens, had witnessed it gave the rumors even greater credibility.

And so, wherever the tale was told:

"Wow!"

An exclamation of amazement. No, of horror.

"Sir Ellen really suffered such a defeat?"

"How could a wastrel do that to one of the kingdom's best fighters?"

"That's not all. I hear his younger sister smashed the Royal Knights, too."

"... What? What are you talking about now?"

Before they could recover from one shock, another story followed.

"How powerful must his sister be for the Royal Knights to have been utterly helpless?"

"This isn't something they can dismiss as a mere disturbance, is it?"

"Gentlemen, what are you discussing so animatedly?"

The rumors grew more exaggerated as they spread. And once again, wherever the tale was told:

"Wow!"

Amazement, horror, and shock burst forth.

"B-but..."

"What is this, a whole house of wastrels?"

"Like brother, like sister!"

"But aren't they completely unrelated by blood?"

"I believe so. As far as I know, the younger sister was adopted."

In any case.

"Of all people, he had to go after a prince."

"There will certainly be a price to pay for this."

"That's why they're being held in the palace dungeon now, apparently."

"Both of them?"

"Yes. They say the brother asked them to arrest only him, offering to take responsibility for his sister's crimes as well..."

"It seems they refused him in the end."

"Still, he tried to protect his sister to the very end."

The story reached even the ears of the many young noblewomen hoping to attend the court's social season.

"My goodness!"

Admiration, fluttering hearts, and excitement erupted all at once.

"Isn't he simply wonderful?"

"Trying to protect his sister even after something so terrible happened..."

"And a sister who doesn't share a single drop of his blood, at that!"

"The rumors call him a wastrel, but perhaps he's actually a very warmhearted, responsible man?"

"Oh, my...!"

The rumors were now spreading beyond anyone's control, taking on a life beyond the incident itself. Naturally, the streets of Battengart, the capital, grew even more boisterous.

"Prince Walter's a pants-wetter!"

"He was so scared of the wastrel he peed himself!"

Children made an even bigger joke of the rumor that he had disgracefully wet himself.

"From what I hear, Prince Walter insulted him terribly..."

"Perhaps Prince Walter was also at fault?"

Some cautiously wondered whether Walter had brought it upon himself.

"That's practically treason!"

"The capital will soon be unstable. Secure the supplies we'll need ahead of time!"

Merchants moved to adapt to the changing situation. Each class and social stratum interpreted the incident differently, leaving the entire capital abuzz.

But...

"Why hasn't the royal court made an official announcement yet?"

The royal court itself remained tight-lipped.

* * *

The tranquil view of the palace beyond the window stood in stark contrast to Queen Marceline's current turmoil.

"I told him so clearly to watch his behavior..."

But the damage was already done. She had to put things right. Queen Marceline calmly closed her eyes and sank into thought.

Adrian, known as the wastrel of a count's house. The rumors had now spread so uncontrollably that he was being called the Wastrel of Madness.

But that wasn't what he really was.

He had confined his attacks strictly to Ellen and the Royal Knights. He hadn't harmed so much as a hair on Walter's head. And Walter had hurled insults too vile to repeat.

With the testimony of Edmund, the lord chamberlain, she could neither deny nor distort those facts.

In other words, this had been anything but impulsive. It was an act carried out with meticulous calculation and a clear assessment of the situation.

And for that very reason...

"..."

She had even less idea how to resolve it.

Should she reprimand Walter? Or should she impose harsh punishment on House Whitewolf to uphold the royal court's authority?

What if she backed down? The court's authority wouldn't merely be tarnished; it would plummet.

This was a particularly sensitive time, with the royal succession in dispute. She was in the process of winning over noble factions to consolidate her position. If she failed to uphold the court's authority, she could lose a great deal of support.

One misstep could serve only to strengthen the position of Leon, the first prince.

In fact, the rumor that Walter had disgracefully wet himself had already dealt a considerable blow.

But what if she pressed charges? That would escalate the matter and complicate the situation, causing a major disruption to the court's social season.

Worse, this wasn't something she could settle by punishing Adrian alone. Seraphia, the young lady of House Whitewolf, had also been involved in the rampage.

If she were to hold them accountable, she would have to punish them both. But that...must never happen.

She could do neither one thing nor the other.

She worried, thought, and agonized endlessly.

She sought solutions, analyzed them, and explored them.

She deliberated, calculated, and reflected again and again.

She reviewed her thoughts, organized them, and refined them.

And the conclusion she finally reached was this.

GRRRK!!!

Queen Marceline could do nothing but grind her teeth.