How To Live As A Third Son Of A Failure [EN]: Chapter 233

Living as the Third Son of a Failed Novel – Chapter 234

Chapter 56. Formation of the Pursuit Team

About fifteen days after I started gathering the necessary information, a dark night finally saw the arrival of our first guest.

Neigh, neigh-

The sounds of horses snorting echoed into the dimly lit brewery, illuminated by only a few candles.

“Looks like someone’s here.”

Peter, who had been wrestling with the papers scattered on the table, stood up with a delighted expression. He cautiously pulled back the curtain to look outside and then whistled.

“A carriage… Doesn’t seem like reinforcements sent from the Capital.”

He was right. If it were a secret mission, a conspicuous carriage would be avoided.

Then who could have come by carriage?

Immediately, a face came to mind. Could it really be them?

I sighed lightly, opened the door, and stepped out.

“Whoa there.”

Cold sea breeze swept through the dark night air.

I looked up and saw a carriage stopped in front of the brewery. It was a small carriage that could only fit one or two people at most.

“You’ve worked hard.”

The figure sitting in the driver’s seat had their hood pulled down low and was constantly stroking the manes of the horses.

For some reason, that figure looked familiar. Who could it be? The question was soon answered.

“Long time no see, kid.”

The figure turned their head towards me, sending an intense gaze from under the hood.

“…I didn’t expect you to come personally.”

White hair that looked like it had endured everything. Reddish-brown eyes that overwhelmed everyone they met.

Even though they were disguised, I could recognize them.

The one sitting in the driver’s seat was Lordain, the elder of the Elven race who ruled the Great Forest, and the strongest warrior.

“This matter is too important not to come personally.”

“You got permission to come, right?”

“Of course.”

Lordain jumped lightly from the driver’s seat, smiled, and held out his hand. His hand, when I grasped it, felt no different from when we parted in the Great Forest.

On the other hand, Lordain tilted his head after grabbing my hand.

“You’ve gotten stronger, haven’t you?”

“Time has passed, after all.”

“It’s only been a few years, though?”

Lordain’s eyes scanned me up and down as if seeing right through me.

I had indeed gotten stronger. But Lordain was also a monster for recognizing that with just a brief glance.

I clicked my tongue and turned my gaze away.

“Who came in the carriage?”

The answer came from inside the carriage, not from Lordain.

“Do you really need to ask?”

The one who appeared as the door opened was Fleta.

She was also disguised to conceal her identity. But even so, her graceful movements and dignified appearance remained the same.

“Fleta.”

“It’s been a while, Count Kain.”

“…Lordain aside, why did you come?”

“The Great Forest and the Elven race are under the jurisdiction of Bashrun. Therefore, it is only right that someone with that authority accompany and oversee things.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

I had a feeling that countless nagging awaited me, so I looked at Lordain.

“Was the journey okay?”

Lordain snorted as if asking if that was even a question.

“Do you think it was okay?”

“….”

Regardless, Fleta strode towards me and held out her hand.

The hardships she had experienced in the past during the Bashrun territory war seemed to have been completely healed, and her eyes were full of life.

“Was the territory war last spring the last time we met?”

“Yes. It’s already been over a year. But nothing seems to have changed, though?”

“I recently entered the 5th Circle [a measure of magical ability].”

“…Ah, is that so.”

“I understand the situation roughly. It’s about Rodkius and the Nebiros Order, right?”

Fleta was someone who knew the whole story of the ugly conspiracy unfolding in the kingdom.

Of course, that didn’t mean she came here out of a strong sense of justice. It was probably her deep desire for revenge against Rodkius and the black-haired man who had turned their blades towards Bashrun.

“It’s related to that matter.”

“I will join you. I have the right to find and punish the culprits.”

“If I try to stop you, will you go back?”

“No.”

“I asked the obvious. It’s cold. Let’s go inside.”

I gestured towards the brewery, and Peter opened the door.

Just as Fleta and I were about to enter the brewery, Lordain, leaning against the carriage, opened his mouth nonchalantly.

“Hey, kid.”

“Yes? Is there a problem?”

“There’s a spectator. Did you plant them there?”

A spectator?

My eyes quickly followed Lordain’s gaze. His eyes were directed towards a dark alley away from the brewery.

Could it be that Count Adrian noticed and put someone to watch us?

I quickly raised my hand to the sword hilt, ready to spring out. Peter and Fleta also lowered their stances with tense faces.

But Lordain shrugged as if to reassure us.

“Don’t be nervous. If that’s a spy, they must be a somewhat dim-witted fool.”

As Lordain said, the two figures were openly watching from a distance as if they didn’t care about being discovered.

They seemed to sense that our conversation was roughly over and slowly began to approach.

A faint rattling sound could be heard through the robes made for travel. On the other hand, no footsteps could be heard at all.

“Are you Count Kain Arfen?”

The figure at the front of the two stopped and quietly stated my identity.

This was also a familiar voice.

It never rains but it pours. I sighed, wondering how they could all arrive at the same time on the same day.

“Long time no see, Jescal.”

Jescal Highclans.

A knight on the verge of becoming a Sword Expert, Upper Rank [a high level of swordsmanship].

And the author-recognized greatest talent in the novel, who would rise to Master within ten years.

He was the support sent by Marquis Irfe.

* * *

Heavy. It was heavy, bordering on brutal.

The brewery was filled with an eerie silence. It was the atmosphere created by those who had come from the Capital, staring at Lordain, who had removed his disguise.

On the other hand, Lordain was sitting comfortably in a chair, tasting the ale made by Peter.

“This is quite unique, isn’t it? I like it precisely because it’s different from the usual.”

“Oh, is it because you’re an elf? You have unique tastes.”

As Lordain and Peter hit it off and exchanged jokes, the knight standing to one side looked at me.

“Count Kain, I was not informed that there would be a member of another race present.”

“First, sit down. Let’s talk while sitting, Sir Taylor.”

At my invitation, Knight Taylor made a face as if he had bitten into something sour.

Taylor Grant.

A skilled Expert, Middle Rank [another level of swordsmanship], and the escort knight of Marquis Irfe who had visited Rihas’s house on the National Foundation Day.

My last memory of him was losing five chess games in a row to Rihas, and now he had come with Jescal as support.

“Sir Jescal, don’t just stand there quietly. Say something.”

At Taylor’s urging, Jescal slowly walked over to the table and sat down.

Jescal, who politely refused the ale offered by Peter, swept back his light blonde hair.

“I don’t want to bring up fundamental issues unnecessarily, but…”

Jescal started briefly and then continued.

“Still, Sir Taylor and I are knights belonging to the royal family. And according to the kingdom’s laws, interaction with other races is strictly prohibited.”

Jescal, huh? I’ve met him a few times in passing, but this is the first time we’ve faced each other like this. He’s more soft-spoken than I thought.

“Of course, I know that.”

“I’ll ask you. Is there a reason why we must be with that elf, even if it means breaking the kingdom’s laws?”

There is. The signal left by the captured dark elf can only be read by another elf.

But to persuade them with that justification, I would have to go back a long way to explain all the details.

There’s no need to do that. If it’s simply understanding that’s needed, there’s something more certain.

“Because Count Graham won’t be coming.”

Graham Diaz. The name of the only Master [the highest level of swordsmanship] the royal family possessed caused Jescal’s eyebrows to twitch slightly.

“What is your intention?”

“It’s simple. If Count Graham had come, that elf wouldn’t be here.”

“Does that mean that elf is a skilled individual who can replace Count Graham?”

“Replace… I don’t know if they can. I’d have to see them fight to know. But you can think of it as being similar in context.”

At my words, Taylor, who had been silent, burst out in anger.

“What nonsense are you spouting!”

At Taylor’s angry words, Jescal raised his hand to stop him. When Taylor stepped back, huffing, Jescal sighed.

“Count Kain, you are saying things that you cannot take responsibility for.”

He’s more assertive than I thought.

But the flow of the story was going as I expected. From the subject of the kingdom’s laws to the balance between Count Graham and Lordain.

And there was someone else who understood my intentions.

“Sir Jescal, I believe that having premature certainty about something that has not been proven is an arrogance that a knight should avoid.”

At Fleta’s sharp words, Jescal softly turned his head and looked at her.

“Then I will ask the Princess of Bashrun. Do you trust the story that the elf is replacing Count Graham?”

“Of course, I have no way to prove it, nor do I have the proper qualifications. But don’t you have it?”

“…Me?”

“Sir Jescal, I heard that you recently joined the Royal Knights. If so, then surely that series of processes included a duel with Count Graham.”

“That’s right.”

“Then the method of proof is simple. Check the elf’s skills yourself. And make a judgment. Whether Count Kain’s words were irresponsible and inappropriate.”

She provoked the knight’s competitive spirit and, at the same time, forced an irreversible judgment.

What a scary skill in dealing with people.

I inwardly admired and shrugged my shoulders as I looked at Jescal.

“What will you do?”

At my question, Taylor’s face turned red, and he placed his hand on the sword hilt.

“There’s no need for Sir Jescal to step in. I’ll take him on. Count Kain, apologize for what you said and prepare to send that elf back.”

At Taylor’s words, Jescal sat still without saying a word.

Realizing that it was a tacit agreement, I looked at Lordain, and he grinned after downing the remaining ale in one gulp.

“An elf, huh? A lot of time has passed. I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

Lordain, who stood up smoothly, looked at me.

“Hey, kid, do you still have that?”

That? What is he talking about?

Ah, is it that?

I put my hand into the subspace pocket. After that, in my hand that I took out of the bag, was the dagger that Lordain had given me when we parted in the Great Forest.

Thanks to reading Lordain’s memories related to this, I was able to inherit Hashunar’s symbol.

Feeling a small emotion, I held out the dagger to Lordain.

“Will this be enough?”

“This is more than enough. But it would be unsightly to fight with bare hands.”

It was a low-quality provocation that even a passing snot-nosed kid could see.

But the effect was certain. Taylor, with a face full of anger, gritted his teeth.

“I warn you. For a clear judgment, it will be a duel using Aura [magical energy].”

“Whatever.”

“It seems there will be an accidental casualty.”

Lordain, who spun the dagger in his hand a few times, looked at Taylor.

The arrogance he had shown until just now was long gone.

Before I knew it, Lordain, who had transformed into the strongest warrior of the elves, who had once rivaled Aslahina, smiled.