SSS-Rank Hunter Reborn: Private Tutor to the Count's Bastard Son

The moment he climbed the stairs and set foot on the 3rd floor.

Ferda suddenly stopped walking. Something was a bit different from usual. After a moment, he realized what the sense of unease was.

'The windows...'

All the corridor windows were wide open.

It wouldn't have been Aaron's doing. That guy knew Silvan disliked sunlight. Then who on earth had opened the windows? Ferda frowned and closed the windows one by one.

Click—

When all the windows were closed except for the last one, the corridor became dark again. With a satisfied expression, Ferda walked toward Silvan's room.

Just as he was about to knock lightly and open the door as usual.

'Huh?'

He sensed people inside. Not one, but two.

He hadn't heard about this?

Ferda cleared his throat, then politely knocked on the door.

Knock knock—

"Young master, it's Ferda."

No answer.

After counting to 5 internally, he carefully opened the door.

What appeared next was a dazzlingly bright room.

And a bundle of blankets rolled up on the bed with a middle-aged man standing guard beside it. The bundle of blankets would undoubtedly be Silvan.

Then who was the man next to him?

'It's a face I've never seen.'

But strangely, he looked somehow familiar. Meanwhile, a sword scar carved near the man's left eye caught his attention. The moment he saw this, someone came to mind. One of the characters from the novel.

'Could it be...'

With narrowed eyes, he observed the man's appearance.

Well-groomed gray hair and brown eyes. He had somewhat rough skin and wore a white shirt with a black vest. After seeing his attire, he could finally realize who he was.

'Ayl Dünov, the Arcdute family butler.'

On the surface, he seemed like someone who would have been quite something in his heyday, but it wasn't his heyday—he was still quite something now. He was one of the top five strongest people in Count Arcdute's territory.

Meanwhile, a familiar voice was heard.

"Ferda!"

Silvan, who belatedly noticed Ferda's presence, smiled brightly. Though he sprang up from the bed, he didn't let go of the blanket in his hands. It was probably because of the sunlight filling the room.

"Did you sleep well, young master?"

"Oh, yeah. But why suddenly..."

As he continued speaking with an awkward expression.

Silvan's gaze turned to Ayl. Soon he made an expression of understanding the situation. When he closed his mouth, Ayl suddenly cleared his throat.

"Ahem! This is the first time seeing you like this."

A stubborn tone. Moreover, with a clearly condescending gaze.

Ayl looked at Ferda as if viewing someone far below his station.

"I'm Ayl Dünov. I serve as the mansion's administrator and head butler."

Though he already knew this information, it would be good to introduce himself here. Ferda bowed his head slightly.

"I'm Ferda Inosid. Young Master Silvan's..."

"The introductions are done, so hurry and prepare. There isn't much time left."

Ayl cut off his words.

Then Ferda looked at Ayl with a bewildered expression. What was he suddenly supposed to prepare? Then Silvan, who had approached at some point, grabbed his collar.

"F-Ferda. So, well..."

He seemed to want to explain the detailed situation.

But Ayl's words were faster.

"The Count has invited you to breakfast."

***

Whion Jel Arcdute.

Head of the Arcdute Count household and one of the kingdom's Sword Masters.

A war lord with a notorious reputation for his ruthless methods, while effectively serving as a gateway to stop the barbarians beyond the southern desert.

He was also Silvan's father.

There was other miscellaneous information, but nothing that would be helpful in the current situation.

'If anything, it would be his relationship with Silvan...'

There was quite a persistent bad relationship between the Count and Silvan. That's why the Count kept Silvan at a distance. Of course, Silvan didn't know this fact yet.

'First, this development wasn't in the original.'

Throughout all seasons of "The Savior", the Count had never invited Silvan to a meal or come to see his face. At most, they'd had a few minutes of conversation when he first visited the Count's castle.

But why did he suddenly invite him to a meal?

That wasn't the only question.

'Why was I invited?'

The Count had called Ferda along too. If only Silvan had been invited, Ayl wouldn't have needed to wait for him.

"Hey, who closed all the windows?"

Then Ayl's displeased voice was heard.

Awakening from his thoughts, Ferda immediately spoke.

"Sir Dünov."

"Call me head butler. I quit being a knight long ago."

A tone clearly showing annoyance. As if telling him not to talk to him.

But getting information came first right now.

"Head butler. Though it's presumptuous, I'd like to ask..."

"I suppose you're curious about why you were invited to the meal."

His intuition was ghostly quick.

When Ferda nodded as if flustered, Ayl continued.

"Since the Count personally selected you, he probably wants to see your face. I don't know, but they say your father has a long relationship with the Count."

Ah, he remembered.

There was such a 'setting.' It was so faint he'd forgotten.

The reason Ferda became Silvan's tutor was nothing special. He was easy to use appropriately, and if something happened, it could be handled roughly without consequences.

But why him among all the many fallen noble offspring?

The answer was simple.

'Settling old ties.'

Once upon a time, the Count had owed a debt to 'Ferda Winteress's father.' It wasn't to the extent of owing his life, but it was an ambiguous debt to ignore.

'Count Arcdute hated being in debt.'

It wasn't just dislike—he was described as tremendously hating it. To the point where you'd suspect he had an obsession. But that alone didn't resolve all the questions.

'Still, it's not enough to be invited to breakfast.'

What he'd recalled was just the background of how Ferda became Silvan's tutor.

Being invited to breakfast was a different matter. If this had even a little connection, he should have been invited in the original too.

'Under these circumstances...'

He had no choice but to meet directly and confirm.

About what scheme he'd invited himself and Silvan for.

While having such thoughts, they'd arrived at their destination before he knew it.

"Just to be sure, you don't have any weapons, right?"

At those words, Ferda quietly nodded.

He'd left it on the desk because of all the chattering. On the way back to his lodging, he'd tried putting it in inventory too, but the chatter still didn't stop and he thought he'd go crazy.

While sighing internally, Ayl spoke again.

"There are things you need to know before entering."

Ayl continued in his characteristic stubborn tone. Things like precautions when dining with the Count. Seeing him like this, he seemed more like a butler than anyone else right now.

"Hmm, if you're ready, let's go in."

Knock knock—

Ayl knocked on the door.

"Count, this is Ayl. I've brought Young Master Silvan..."

"Come in."

A low voice came from beyond the door.

Creak—

After a moment, when the door opened, an unexpected scene appeared.

Various chunks of meat placed on a large table. Chicken and pork, goat and sheep, and even the duck that Silvan liked.

However, the problem was that none of it was cooked.

"...!"

They were all raw meat without exception.

Blood overflowed and dripped to the floor. Looking at it, the fishy smell of blood seemed to paralyze his sense of smell. Such an intense smell that he wanted to kick open the door and leave.

"Then I'll excuse myself now."

Thud—

With Ayl's voice, the door closed.

When the wind stopped, the smell became even worse. Due to the blood smell, Silvan's complexion turned somewhat pale. Since all the windows were closed too, it couldn't be helped.

But they couldn't just stand there blankly forever.

Ferda lightly nudged Silvan's elbow. After sharing a glance with him, both bowed their heads without anyone going first.

"Ferda Inosid pays his respects to the Count."

"S-Silvan Arcdute pays re-respects to the C-Count..."

Silvan couldn't continue his words. It was probably because he couldn't adapt to the nauseating bloody smell. Meanwhile, the Count's voice was heard.

"You may raise your heads."

When permission was given, Ferda slowly raised his gaze. A man sitting at the end of the table was visible.

Platinum hair hanging down to his shoulders.

Deep blue eyes that had sunk like a quiet lake.

The master of this castle, Count Arcdute.

'He's younger than I thought.'

He must have been over forty, but in appearance, he looked like he was in his late thirties. However, his eyes were decidedly not young. Such fierce eyes could only be possessed by those who had gone through countless battlefields and stained their hands with much blood.

"It's been quite a while."

Then the Count opened his mouth.

Silvan clenched his trembling fist tightly. He had to give some response. He struggled to move his lips that wouldn't move well. To give the greeting 'It's been a while.'

However, the Count didn't give Silvan a chance to speak.

"Do you remember me? Ferda Winteress."

At those words, Silvan froze.

At the same time, Ferda sighed internally. This was the second time meeting since coming to the castle. But instead of caring for his blood relative, he'd greeted himself first.

'It's not even treating him like he doesn't exist...'

No matter how much he disliked him, couldn't he at least give a greeting?

Still, since he'd received a greeting, he had to respond. After pretending to think briefly, he spoke in an apologetic tone.

"I'm sorry, but I don't remember."

"Hmm, is that so?"

Of course. How could he remember that?

The original Ferda would have definitely thought this. But now it was different. The contents of all seasons remained intact in his head. So he brought up the story of Ferda and the Count that was briefly mentioned in the novel.

"But I do remember the voice."

"The voice?"

"Yes. I remember hearing it at the inn that raised owls in the village in the northern snowy mountains. I also remember the barrels of alcohol stacked up."

"Haha, a nostalgic place. Your father and I drank ourselves silly there."

The Count burst into hearty laughter. A nostalgic smile formed on his lips.

But his eyes remained the same. Eyes without even a fragment of emotion. This was the same for Ferda.

'Though I don't really want to humor him.'

It wasn't like Ferda would like the Count either. He knew how much he'd neglected and mistreated Silvan. Just look at how he was treating him like he didn't exist right now.

Seeing Silvan with his ears drooped, mouth tightly shut, made him quite concerned.

'But Silvan still needs...'

The shadow of the Arcdute Count household.

At least until he led the army of the dead.

"Sit down. You must be hungry, so let's eat first."

Following the Count's words, Ferda and Silvan sat side by side. The smell of blood seemed to waft even thicker. At the unfamiliar scene, Silvan held his breath as much as possible. Otherwise, he felt like he'd run out.

"I heard from Ayl."

The Count picked up a pig's hind leg soaked in blood. Then, as if carving a steak, he cut the raw meat. Perhaps because it was a knife imbued with aura, the chunk of meat was cut as smoothly as butter.

"He said you like meat."

The Count put the scarlet flesh into his mouth. He chewed while savoring it like delicious food. Then he looked at Silvan and raised the corners of his mouth.

It was the smile of a fierce predator.

"I've prepared plenty, so eat to your heart's content."

As those words ended, Silvan's shoulders trembled faintly.