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

The Saint's party arrived at the reception room under Alter's guidance. When the door opened, they could see Count Arcdute sitting in a chair.

"Thank you for permitting our visit despite the late hour."

Dersel greeted on behalf of the entire party.

Count Arcdute was a man of straightforward personality. In front of such a person, superficial pleasantries would only make him uncomfortable. Dersel got straight to the point without beating around the bush.

"The reason we visited Count Arcdute's territory this time is..."

"I heard. It's to find a holy relic."

Suddenly the Count interrupted Dersel's words. Dersel was a bit flustered by the behavior that went against etiquette.

"...Yes, it's a holy relic called the Eyes of the Moon."

But he didn't show it. Instead, after clearing his throat with a cough, he continued the story again.

"As one of the Holy Kingdom's five great relics, it's a treasure with immense divine power. It also has the ability to suppress unholy forces. But regrettably, here in Count Arcdute's territory, its whereabouts have become mysterious..."

"There's something I don't understand."

Again the Count cut off his words. Since he kept doing this, it now felt like he was doing it on purpose. As Dersel slightly furrowed his brow, the Count asked in a sarcastic tone.

"If it's such an important treasure, why was it stored here instead of in the Holy Kingdom?"

At the mocking voice, wrinkles formed on Dersel's forehead.

Now he understood. The Count was not favorably disposed toward the Holy Kingdom's delegation. But he couldn't be pushed back in this conversation now. Just as he was about to open his mouth again to regain control of the conversation.

"I can tell you about that."

A gentle voice was heard from behind.

It was the Saint. When he stepped forward, Dersel quietly stepped back.

"About three hundred years ago from now. This land was a nameless forest swampland. It was also the domain where the king of unholy monsters lived."

As soon as the Saint's explanation ended, the Count raised his eyebrows. He snorted with an expression as if it wasn't even worth laughing at.

"Are you telling me the history of the Arcdute family to my face right now?"

"Haha, of course you know it much better than I do."

The Saint who had laughed lightly suddenly erased his smile. Shortly after, he brought up the story again.

"As the Count knows, the first head of the Arcdute family requested help from the Holy Kingdom in the process of sealing the king of monsters. Because there were several tools needed for the sealing."

"One of them was the holy relic called the Eyes of the Moon?"

"Correct. The Eyes of the Moon is a holy relic that suppresses unholy forces. It was the perfect tool for sealing the king of monsters. So to fully draw out the relic's original power, we built the Temple of the Moon on this land to store the relic."

At the Saint's explanation, the Count nodded as if he understood. But another question bloomed like a flower.

"Then why hasn't the king of monsters awakened? If the Eyes of the Moon disappeared, shouldn't it have awakened immediately and run wild?"

"That's exactly why we came to Count Arcdute's territory. The fact that the king of monsters hasn't awakened can also be explained by the 'Eyes of the Moon' still being here."

This also made sense.

Couldn't he think of anything proper to refute? The Count quietly closed his mouth. The Saint didn't miss this opportunity. With a rather solemn face, he continued again.

"To prevent awakening the king of monsters sealed underground in the Count's territory, we must return the Eyes of the Moon to its original place. That's why we came here to seek the Count's permission."

"Permission?"

"Yes. To find the holy relic, we need the power of the Holy Law Officials. And to maximize their power even more..."

The Saint began a long explanation. He passionately spoke for about ten minutes. After some time, when the Saint closed his mouth with a somewhat flushed face, the Count tapped his knee.

"So in short, you want to increase the number of temples."

The Saint's story could be summarized like this. At the simple and clear summary, the Saint smiled as if it was the correct answer.

"If I were to summarize, I could say that."

The expressionless Count. The smiling Saint.

The two men's gazes intertwined in the air. Shortly after, the Count chuckled. Then he nodded readily.

"If you pay enough, you can increase them. If you want, you can even build them outside the city. If the number of temples increases, the taxes collected will increase too."

A tone that had somehow changed to casual speech. But the Saint didn't mind.

"Thank you for your generous permission."

He just smiled faintly and bowed his head slightly.

Meanwhile, the Count opened his mouth again.

"However, I also have something to say."

"Please speak. I'll listen carefully."

He'd achieved half of his goal. The Saint looked at the Count with eyes that had become like a gentle sheep.

Then the Count stood up and strode forward. At the sudden approach, Dersel tried to block him, but couldn't due to the Saint's restraint. Eventually, the Count stopped about three steps away from the Saint.

"Increasing temples is fine. I won't stop you from finding the holy relic either."

Emotion appeared on his previously expressionless face.

It was an emotion called displeasure.

"However, don't carelessly set foot in my domain."

What was this supposed to mean?

The Saint tilted his head with a face that didn't understand. Just as he was about to ask what he meant, the Count added first.

"There are rats running around in my castle. Nine of them, no less."

"..."

At those words, the Saint's half-opened mouth shut tight. Dersel's eyes also trembled finely. They say silence is agreement? The Count chuckled and spoke.

"If you leave rats alone, problems arise. Food decreases and diseases spread. So whenever I see even one rat, I release the cats."

That's when the reception room door suddenly burst open. Soon the one who appeared was Count Arcdute's knight, Burke Logwood. The Count muttered with a cold smile.

"It seems the cat has returned just in time."

As soon as those words ended, Burke bowed his head toward the Count. Then he moved his tightly closed lips.

"I report. As ordered, I've captured nine field mice."

"Were there any problems?"

"They resisted quite fiercely, so I broke one leg each."

He broke their legs?

At those words, Dersel roughly gripped his sword hilt. The other holy knights were the same. A sharp aura like well-honed daggers began flowing out. But the Count and Burke continued their conversation without caring.

"Damage to our forces?"

This time an immediate answer didn't come out. Burke slightly turned his head to look at the holy knights including Dersel. Then, raising the corner of his mouth slightly, he answered.

"Arcdute's knights don't get beaten by mere field mice."

Mockery was embedded in the dry voice.

Dersel clenched his teeth tightly. If it weren't for the Saint, he would have drawn his sword immediately. And he would have challenged that rude knight to a duel.

But he couldn't. After all, it was the Saint who led this group. Unless he stepped forward, Dersel and the other holy knights couldn't step forward first.

Eventually, Burke, who had finished his report, left the room. The Count turned his head toward the Saint again. Soon a dry voice pierced the Saint's ears.

"If you have nothing more to say, please leave."

The Count turned around. Seeming to have no intention of continuing the conversation, the Saint's party left the reception room. A knight who had been waiting outside guided the Saint's party to their quarters.

"Then please rest comfortably."

Thud—

With the knight's words, the door closed.

The annex was filled with quiet silence. No one could easily open their mouth. Meanwhile, the Saint moved his lips first.

"Dersel."

"Yes, Saint."

"It seems the Count doesn't find us very agreeable."

Dersel couldn't say anything. Because it was true.

Then the Saint opened his mouth again.

"Then we'll have to reestablish our relationship first."

"Do you have any good ideas?"

At that question, the Saint nodded.

Soon an unexpected answer was heard.

"Find Count Arcdute's weakness."

"Excuse me?"

"If you grab his weakness and wave it in front of his eyes, even the fiercest wolf will become like a gentle sheep. Then achieving our goal will be easier."

Simply put, it meant to threaten him. Dersel asked with an awkward face.

"But does the Count have any weaknesses?"

"If there aren't any, we'll have to create them and pressure him."

A clear answer came back.

But Dersel didn't seem very inclined. Even though he was following the Saint's orders, he was a knight. Then the Saint added one more thing in a calm tone.

"Dersel. Don't forget the humiliation our brothers suffered."

Those words snapped him to attention. That's right. Right now, nine of their brothers were captured here. At the same time, he recalled Burke's face laughing while saying he'd broken their brothers' legs.

"...I understand."

Grr—!

Dersel bowed his head while gritting his teeth.

He judged it right to follow the Saint's words, if only to repay the humiliation their brothers had suffered. Raising his head again, Dersel growled fiercely.

"Fortunately, there's an old colleague here too."

Dersel closed his mouth.

His gaze turned toward the mansion to the east.

***

Past two in the morning.

Ferda's group, having left the Count's castle, settled in a deserted forest. They planned to rest here briefly before continuing. The reason was simple. Silvan's stamina had hit rock bottom.

Crackle—

They gathered dry firewood and lit a campfire. Thanks to the warm heat, color gradually returned to Silvan's pale face. Ferda stuck the duck meat he'd brought on a sharp branch and began roasting it over the campfire.

Seeing this, interest appeared in Irona's eyes. She'd thought he was some noble family's young master since he was called a tutor, but apparently that wasn't the case. Looking at how skilled he was at making campfires and cooking.

"Ferda was also a former mercenary like Irona."

Silvan added an explanation. If he was a former mercenary, that made sense. Irona nodded as if she understood. Meanwhile, something suddenly occurred to her.

'Now that I think about it...'

She recalled the first words Ferda had spoken to her.

Red Panther. The battlefield of Tulan waters. Pirate subjugation, etc. Seeing that he knew Irona had worked as a mercenary, he must be quite a veteran mercenary too.

'But it's a name I've never heard of.'

Normally, if he'd been active that long, even if not by name, she should have heard his name somewhere. Especially if he knew about the battlefield of Tulan waters. All the mercenaries who participated in that battle were skilled at level 2 or above.

'Suspicious.'

Irona's eyes narrowed.

Meanwhile, Silvan opened his mouth.

"But Ferda."

"Yeah?"

"There's something I'm curious about from what you said earlier."

Silvan briefly closed his mouth and glanced at Irona.

"Why did you call Irona the Red Panther?"

"...!"

At that moment, Irona's shoulders flinched. Because that name was one of the dark histories she wanted to forget. Meanwhile, Ferda, who had been asked the question, opened his mouth casually.

"Ah, that's because..."

He was about to tell the origin of Red Panther. That's when he suddenly felt Irona's gaze and turned his head. There he saw Irona trembling while gripping her spear tightly.

Though her mouth shape couldn't be seen because of the mask, he could tell what she wanted to say. She was telling him not to talk about the name's origin. In the original, Irona was very ashamed of the name Red Panther.

Seeing that, he immediately closed his mouth. Their relationship was already bad, and if he said this, their relationship would worsen irreparably. So Ferda naturally avoided answering.

"Wouldn't it be better to ask her directly rather than me?"

"Mm, that's true too. Since Irona's here."

No, he could just say he didn't know, so why give such an answer?

Her face hidden behind the mask crumpled. Meanwhile, the image of Silvan approaching was reflected in her eyes. What excuse should she make? As Irona was rapidly turning her head.

[My king. We've finished scouting and returned.]

[No divine power is felt.]

[You can rest easy now.]

The three spirits who had been at the rear arrived. The fact that no divine power could be felt meant they'd gotten quite far from the Count's castle. Silvan smiled brightly and petted the spirits.

"Yeah, good work."

At those words, the spirits happily circled around Silvan. While watching that strange scene, Irona suddenly asked curiously.

"Silvan. How did you get to know those spirits?"

"Huh? They just came to me first, and as we lived together, we became close."

"They came to you first?"

"Yeah, they suddenly came shortly after I became a necromancer. And they suddenly said they wanted to become my servants, so I said okay in confusion, and it became like this."

It was a story that was hard to believe readily.

That was because each one was a high-ranking spirit. Three beings that wouldn't be lacking compared to the highest-level spirits had come to find him? And while even saying they wanted to become servants?

Strong suspicion formed in Irona's eyes.

"Could there be some other purpose?"

"Other purpose?"

"Yeah, for example..."

During her mercenary life, she'd heard stories of several necromancers.

Stories of having their souls stolen in reverse while handling high-ranking spirits that didn't match their level. She'd also heard stories of having their bodies stolen by spirits quite often.

So with a voice mixed with concern, she told the stories she'd heard before. Silvan, who had been listening with a surprised face, soon turned his gaze to the three spirits. Then, tilting his head, he asked.

"Would you guys do that too?"

As soon as Silvan finished speaking.

The three spirits prostrated themselves flat on the ground without anyone going first.