The Count's Gun-Shooting Scoundrel

“So you’re saying you don’t care what happens.”

Leaving the office, Arthur went straight to Aild's room.

Standing before the door, he kicked it open without mercy.

BANG!

Aild was startled by Arthur's sudden intrusion.

“What is it?”

“What are you doing cooped up in here?”

“Can't you see? I'm in the middle of magic research.”

Aild glared, his eyes blazing.

Arthur paid his reaction no mind and glanced around the room.

It was filled with all sorts of experimental tools and books, and white smoke was billowing from an experimental glass bottle spread open on a long table.

“Wesley must have said something to you before he left, didn't he?”

“So?”

“And you must have heard from Andrew a little while ago?”

“So what are you trying to say?” Aild shouted.

Arthur muttered as if to himself.

“I was going to let it slide, but…”

He flipped the table over.

CRASH! CLANG!

CLATTER!

“No!”

Aild clutched his head, his face a mask of despair.

Next, Arthur shoved the bookshelf, sending it crashing to the floor.

CRASH!

The books on the shelf came tumbling down.

In an instant, the laboratory was utterly wrecked, and Aild collapsed to the floor with a thud.

“This scoundrel…”

Arthur approached and stood before him. Then he looked down with contemptuous eyes.

“If the blood of the House of Count Julius flows in you, at least show some interest in family matters.”

“The amount of effort I put into this…”

“You’re the type who doesn’t listen to words.”

Arthur kicked him in the stomach.

“Keuk!”

Aild crumpled forward.

“So it doesn’t matter to you whether the Countess is being harassed by those bastards or not? Your magic comes first?”

“Ugh…”

“I’ll end it here for today.”

Just as Arthur was about to turn away.

Aild laboriously lifted his head and asked.

“W-what… happened to Mom?”

His face darkened, as if he was only now starting to worry.

Arthur looked at him as if he were pathetic.

“Go and see for yourself.”

***

After causing a ruckus, Arthur returned to his room and collapsed onto the bed.

“Haa…”

Suddenly, all the strength drained from his body, and he felt muscle aches everywhere.

It seemed he had overexerted muscles he hadn't used in a long time.

It was truly a bleak situation.

That aside, the future was the problem.

He hadn't had the slightest intention of getting involved.

But when Sivar insulted Madeline, anger had boiled up in his chest.

When he raised his hand, his body had moved regardless of his will.

It had led to an irreversible situation, but he replayed that moment in his mind.

If he hadn't stepped in, Madeline would have likely forgiven Sivar and sent him away.

But since he had killed Sivar's escort knight, he had given Count Yarve a pretext to start a war.

Either way, the outcome was the same.

“How tedious.”

He thought he could live peacefully here, but it seemed he was destined to roll around on the battlefield again.

Above all, the fact that he himself had ignited the embers of war made his anger surge.

It seemed he was fated to be inseparable from war.

‘Haa, how much blood will I have to shed here…?’

He felt like he could already smell blood, no, the ‘smell of death’.

It was then, as Arthur was wallowing in his miserable fate.

Knock, knock.

The door opened and Skevin entered, bowing his head respectfully.

“I came because I wish to speak with you for a moment.”

He, who valued justice and honor above all else, had considered Arthur the shame of the Count's family.

He had heard rumors that Arthur had changed a lot, but he hadn't believed them. But the side of Arthur he saw in the office had left him in great shock.

Thus, he decided to see for himself.

Whether it was a coincidence, or if he had truly changed.

However, Arthur, who could see right through Skevin's mind, had no intention of playing along.

“I want to rest.”

“Understood.”

Just as Skevin turned to leave without another word, something occurred to Arthur.

“Wait.”

“Yes.”

“What do I have to do to learn Mana?”

“...!”

For a moment, Skevin's eyes went wide.

It was bewildering, as Arthur was someone who had always shuddered at the mere mention of training.

His actions in the office were surprising enough, but this was even more shocking.

Skevin calmed his heart and asked.

“Are you serious?”

Arthur met his eyes and replied coldly.

“I am. Your answer?”

“...!”

It was the same gaze he had seen in the office.

It was like the gaze of a knight who had roamed countless battlefields and crossed the line between life and death.

‘What in the world happened to him?’

As Skevin stared blankly at him, lost in deep thought, Arthur spoke.

“Is this something to ponder?”

“I will be honest. You are so different from the Young Master I knew that I am confused.”

“You disappoint me again. The family is in danger, and you're caught up in such thoughts.”

“...!”

Skevin's gaze wavered.

A shiver ran through his entire body at the words Arthur had just uttered.

Since the Count passed away, everyone had relied on him, but there had been no one to give him sharp advice.

Who could have imagined he would hear such counsel from him, the utter scoundrel?

Suddenly, he saw the image of his grandfather in Arthur.

Espana Maximus, who led the 'invincible' Phoenix Knights back when the House of Count Julius was the Spear of the Empire.

At that time, he was one of the seven Sword Masters of the Empire and the guardian god of the House of Count Julius.

Though he had succeeded him, leading the Phoenix Knights and taking the position of guardian god, he, who had not even reached Sword Master, was nothing but an empty shell with a fine-sounding name.

Still, everyone looked up to him as the sword of the Count's family and the guardian god of Grada.

But Arthur…

Skevin knelt on one knee and placed his left hand over his heart.

“I, Skevin Maximus, have shown great disrespect to you, Young Master. Please forgive me.”

“I’ll say this to you as well, don't make me say things twice.”

“Yes.”

“What do I have to do to learn Mana?”

Skevin bowed his head respectfully and answered.

“If you speak with Sir Millerf, he will find a training method that suits you, Young Master.”

“Is there a reason I can't just learn any method?”

“It is because learning a training method that matches your innate disposition is the most effective and safest.”

“I see.”

Arthur nodded.

Skevin waited for Arthur's next words, his head still bowed.

“This is uncomfortable.”

“It is the proper posture for a vassal.”

“If that's the case, you shouldn't have time to be doing this, should you?”

“Yes, sir!”

Skevin quickly stood up and looked at Arthur.

His face, which until a moment ago had been a mix of shock and doubt, returned to its original, composed expression.

Instead, a tiny glimmer of ‘anticipation’ appeared in his eyes.

        *        *        *

“Hah, hah, hah.”

Arthur continuously ran up and down the castle wall stairs, over and over again.

A week had passed since Sivar's death.

By now, Count Yarve must have started to grow suspicious.

He would either dispatch an investigation team or gather information to grasp what had happened.

When he had asked Skevin a few days ago, he said it would take at least a month for Count Yarve to learn what happened here, and another month to get the Emperor's approval for a territory war.

That meant they would be on the verge of war in at least two months.

There was something he had to do within that time.

To make this wretched body useful again, even if not as good as it once was.

Thus, he dedicated himself solely to physical training, except for when he was eating and sleeping.

Arthur used all his strength to step onto the final stair, then immediately collapsed with a thud.

He lay spread-eagled, staring at the sky and gasping for breath.

“Hah, hah. Hah.”

Andrew, who was watching from the castle wall, had a pained expression.

“Are you really alright?”

“Yes.”

“You’re sweating so much, yet you refuse to even drink water. I’m truly worried something bad will happen.”

“I said I’m fine.”

Arthur painstakingly lifted his gaunt body, so thin that his bones protruded, and was about to head back down again.

Andrew spread his arms to block his path.

“You can't. You need to rest.”

“Move. I still have 3 more sets.”

“Gasp!”

Andrew's jaw dropped.

Arthur pushed him aside and continued his training.

As he came down from the wall and was about to go back up, he heard shouts from the training grounds and stopped.

Skevin, who had visited his room a week ago, had recruited knight trainees the very next day.

Countless people flocked at the news that they could receive teachings from the guardian god of Grada.

Skevin selected 200 of them based on age and physique and began a grueling training regimen.

From that day on, the once-quiet castle became bustling, overflowing with the energy and spirit of the trainees.

“A relief he’s not an idiot.”

It was then, as Arthur was about to climb the stairs again.

He felt a presence approaching stealthily from behind him.

This feeling meant only one thing.

Assassination!

Arthur grabbed the knife he kept in his pocket for emergencies and swung it as he spun around.

Fwoosh-.

It cut through empty air; no one was there.

This time, he felt a presence from his nine o'clock.

He quickly swung the knife.

THWACK!

The knife struck something, and someone materialized out of thin air.

It was a white-haired old man wearing a white robe, and what had blocked the knife was his white staff.

“You are…”

“My apologies for startling you, Young Master.”

It was none other than Millerf, the other guardian god of the House of Count Julius.

“Was that also magic just now?”

“Yes, it is an illusion magic called ‘Illusion Dark’.”

“Hmm.”

Arthur's face hardened.

The way it made the body transparent was like an F-22A Raptor avoiding radar detection.

“An annoying trick.”

Millerf nodded his head.

“Most people think so… but ironically, it seems to be useless against you, Young Master.”

“I suppose any mage can use it?”

“Only mages of the 6th Class or higher can use it.”

“6th Class, is it…”

Millerf, seeming to guess what Arthur was worried about, smiled and replied.

“You need not worry. There are not even five people in the entire Oscar Empire who can use 6th-Circle magic.”

“So there are as many as five. That aside, I heard you were away. Have you just returned?”

“Yes, after greeting Her Ladyship, I met with Sir Skevin and heard the story. May I have a moment of your time?”

“I’m busy.”

Arthur ran up the stairs.

Millerf, seeing him exercising and sweating for the first time, smiled.

“To think I would see such a sight.”

***

One hour later.

Arthur was spread-eagled on the ground, gasping for breath, while Andrew watched him with a sorrowful expression.

Millerf, who had been watching silently from the side, approached and extended a hand toward Arthur.

A faint light gathered in his hand, and Arthur's ragged breathing soon subsided.

Startled by the instantaneous recovery of his stamina, Arthur shot to his feet.

“What did you do?”

“I cast a recovery spell on you.”

“If there’s a method like this…”

It seemed he could achieve several times the effect in a short period if he trained while receiving recovery magic.

“I’m going to need your help.”

“Just say the word.”

Millerf smiled benevolently.

Arthur walked to the castle wall and looked around.

As always, children were playing joyfully in the fields.

It was as peaceful as ever.

Millerf came up beside him, looked at the same scene, and asked.

“What are you thinking about?”

“I want to live like them.”

“Have you not been living and enjoying yourself to your heart's content until now?”

“Have I?”

Arthur asked with a bitter smile.

“If you have something to say, say it.”

“I heard from Sir Skevin. About the matter with Count Yarve, and that you wish to learn Mana, Young Master.”

“I can’t fight those bastards in this state.”

“Are you planning to fight alongside us?”

“I have to earn my keep.”

“I see.”

Millerf smiled and held out his palm.

“I will check your disposition. Please place your hand on my palm.”

“Like this?”

Arthur placed his right hand on Millerf’s palm.

As Millerf softly chanted in a runic language, a white light flowed from Arthur’s hand.

It continued for a moment.

A golden light, symbolizing the House of Count Julius, appeared.

“It seems you have the same disposition as Young Master Wesley…”

Suddenly, Millerf’s words trailed off.

The golden color shone dazzlingly as a red color slowly appeared.

Then the two colors glowed brilliantly, intertwining like a spiral.

The red color, as if devouring the gold, absorbed it and turned into a deep, blood-red color.

Millerf’s eyes widened.

“This is-!”