Chapter 69

“You’re using a pseudonym. Surely you don’t expect me to believe you have no ulterior motives?”

The air around Francis grew increasingly hostile.

We were at the Berlioz Mansion, a place of celebration for Itsuki’s engagement. In such a setting, Francis had to be aware of the risks involved in shedding blood—or worse, the consequences of murder. This was most likely intended as a display of intimidation rather than a true assassination attempt.

At least, that was what I wanted to believe. But Francis had already drawn his sword and leveled it at me. He possessed a terrifying intensity that made me feel like he might actually cut me down in a single stroke if I said something foolish.

To be honest, the situation was near checkmate. If Francis were my only opponent, I could have handled him. However, having someone else at my back at point-blank range was a fatal disadvantage.

If I showed any sign of resistance, I risked being cut down on the spot.

I couldn't be honest, an apology was out of the question, and an explanation was almost impossible. My only remaining option was to negotiate using this mouth of mine—a mouth that excelled at nothing but provoking people into a blind rage. It wouldn't be a proper negotiation by any stretch of the imagination, but it was still safer than initiating a fight.

Attempting to calm both Francis and myself, I carefully chose my words. “Could you lower your weapon first? We can’t have a civil conversation like this.”

“Don't get cocky, you coward. You can’t even issue a threat without a weapon.”

As expected, the result was a total disaster.

I started to think it might actually be safer to just get to the point while the rapier was still at my throat. Fortunately, that one remark hadn't quite pushed Francis over the edge.

“……To think you can still talk like that in this situation. It seems the rumors weren't just tall tales after all.”

“Anecdotes are nothing more than hearsay and nonsense. Don’t think you can measure my worth with something so trivial.”

“You don’t deny being Harold Stokes?”

“I have never had a taste for aliases. If I hadn’t been forced into it, who in their right mind would ever call themselves ‘Lord’?”

If Itsuki hadn't been delegated the right to command me by Justus, I would have flatly refused. I didn't want to go around creating my own dark history if I could help it.

I wanted to explain that part, too, but Francis was currently livid that a villain like Harold had approached Itsuki. I didn't think he would believe me even if I told him it was Itsuki’s idea; if anything, he’d probably think I was using Itsuki’s name as a shield, which would only make him angrier.

“……Fine, let’s get back to the point. What is your goal? Does it have something to do with why you were pressuring me to pursue an engagement with Erika earlier?”

He interrogated me with a strange sense of conviction, but I had no hidden agenda. Regarding Erika, it wasn't that I didn't want to pawn her off on someone else, but as for Itsuki, he was the one who had sought me out. In fact, I was the one who wanted to ask the Sumeragi family a question.

Why are you so obsessed with me?

Itsuki was trying to marry me off to Erika with persistent tenacity. Tasuku condoned it, refusing to sever ties because he insisted they owed me for the resistance medicine and the LP Farming Method. Because of that, I wouldn't have to worry about money for a while, but they had already given me more than enough to serve as a generous severance pay.

The miasma problem still hadn't been solved, and although the LP Farming Method was my idea, it would have been impossible to scale the operation and generate profit without the support of House Sumeragi.

To top it all off was my own reputation. Itsuki claimed the current House Sumeragi could handle the scandal, but if it could be avoided, it should be.

Personally, I wasn't just worried about being pressured into marriage; I didn't want Justus to suspect my relationship with House Sumeragi and start prying into things that were better left buried.

I’d strayed a bit from the point, but in short, my answer was: “I don’t have a goal.” Of course, I knew that if I said that, he’d just tell me to stop lying.

Then, a sudden idea flickered in my mind. Couldn't I use Francis to distance myself from House Sumeragi? And if things go well, it might even help Francis level up… maybe.

If I made it look like I was plotting something and proposed that I’d back away from Itsuki and Erika if he could beat me, I could avoid a bloodbath here and now.

After that, if I fought well and then "lost," I would have a perfect excuse to leave House Sumeragi. Francis would surely tell Itsuki and Erika to "wake up" and cut ties with me. Even if Itsuki didn't listen to common sense, he wouldn't be able to ignore his friend Francis speaking out of genuine concern. That was just the kind of person Itsuki was.

Breaking the engagement with Erika, severing ties with the Sumeragi family, and strengthening Francis. The last part was a gamble, but achieving the first two would be more than enough.

“My goal, is it? And what will you do once you know?”

“Isn't it obvious? If you intend to harm him, I will stop you.”

“Do you truly think you can? Someone like you, stopping me?”

“And you? Do you think you’re in any position to resist? If you don’t talk—”

“You’ll kill me? We both know that’s a bluff. There is no evidence sufficient to justify my execution, and I am currently a guest in this mansion as Itsuki’s friend. If you kill me here, you’ll be nothing more than a murderer. You would stain the Arclight name and drag the reputations of Itsuki and House Berlioz through the mud. Risking all of that for a perceived threat you can’t even prove isn't resolve or friendship. It's just stupidity.”

The rapier wavered. As I suspected, Francis hadn't seriously intended to kill me.

As the saying goes, "dead men tell no tales." If he were truly considering murder, a house as powerful as Arclight could probably find a way to cover it up.

However, Francis was too honorable for such a cowardly act, and he definitely didn't want to destroy his friendship with Itsuki. His goal was simply to scare a confession out of me.

“You... no, all of you made a mistake. If your intent was to capture me rather than kill me, you shouldn't have held your blade so close to my vitals. Especially since I am unarmed and my options are limited. If I were to counterattack this very second, you would be forced to either kill me or inflict a mortal wound. If you pull back your sword even an inch to avoid that—in that instant, I will wring the life out of you.”

I spun a bunch of nonsense that sounded just plausible enough to work.

His weapons were pointed at my throat and heart. Normally, aiming for vitals is the best way to restrict someone's movement, but I just needed him to believe it was a fatal tactical error.

I kept the pressure on, letting my mouth run wild.

“You look pale. What happened to all that bravado from a moment ago, Francis J. Arclight? If you truly think you can save Itsuki by killing me, then do it. Even if you lose his trust forever, that is the price you must pay. Just remember: once trust is lost, it can never be easily regained.”

Francis was drenched in sweat. It wasn't the kind of sweat you got from a warm day; it was a cold, physical manifestation of his psychological distress. I had successfully backed him into a corner.

The fact that I was unconsciously radiating killing intent probably helped.

“……You’re even more than the rumors suggested, Harold. To think you could flip the script with nothing but words.”

“If you truly believe that, then you are incurably foolish. You were never in control of this situation to begin with.”

I declared it with total confidence, even though it was a complete lie. Francis absolutely had the advantage.

I was just relying on Harold’s natural arrogance to gaslight Francis into believing otherwise. Now, I had to seal the deal while he was still faltering.

“Even so, I...!”

Francis hesitated, his gaze dropping for a split second. If I had wanted to, I could have pinned him and taken out the person behind me in that window.

Instead, I made my proposal.

“I’ll give a fool like you a chance. We will duel before a witness. If you win, I will do as you say and disappear.”

“And if I lose?”

“Then you will follow my orders. Naturally.”

“……Very well.”

After a moment of deliberation, Francis sheathed his rapier. The pressure at my back vanished instantly. It looked like I had successfully avoided being murdered.

As I let out a mental sigh of relief, Francis muttered something unexpected.

“Indeed, Harold is not a man to be underestimated. I'll admit that much, Itsuki.”

“From your tone, it sounds like you’re still not entirely convinced.”

That voice came from directly behind me. Without thinking, I spun around and delivered a clean kick.

“Gah!”

It was a beautiful, fluid strike that would have earned a standing ovation from a professional martial artist.

Looking down at Itsuki, who was now curled on the ground clutching his left thigh, I addressed him with a voice several degrees colder than the one I had used on Francis.

“Explain yourself.”

“F-Fran came to my room last night and asked, ‘Isn’t Lord actually Harold Stokes?’ and I just said, ‘Yeah, what of it?’……”

I listened to Itsuki’s agonizing explanation, which boiled down to this:

During yesterday's chaos, one of Francis’s attendants had recognized me and reported it to the prince. Apparently, that attendant had seen me in the Royal Capital before.

Francis had gone to Itsuki to confirm the truth. Since Itsuki had casually admitted it was me, Francis tried to convince him to rethink our relationship. When the discussion hit a stalemate, Itsuki made a suggestion:

“Why don't you see for yourself what kind of man Harold really is?”

And thus, this entire farce was born. I realized then that every bit of this was Itsuki’s fault.

I seriously doubted if he had any intention of keeping my identity a secret. In fact, he probably didn't care at all.

I’d deal with his punishment later. For now, there was something else I needed to settle. I turned back to Francis.

“So, what did Itsuki tell you that made you ‘admit’ I was something other than a villain?”

“He told me, ‘He isn’t actually a bad person. He’s just easily misunderstood because he’s strict with others and even stricter with himself.’ I didn't think someone could earn the title of ‘Knight Killer’ just by being strict, but……”

Francis gave a self-deprecating smile.

“You are strong. I would probably lose to you a hundred times out of a hundred. If you are truly Harold, it would have been easy for you to take me down the moment I looked away.”

“To think you intentionally left an opening. You certainly looked down on me.”

“We’re even, aren’t we? My life was actually on the line.”

So was mine, I grumbled internally.

Then, Francis said something so ridiculous it almost knocked me over.

“Even in that situation, you tried to set a stage where we could face each other as equals. Even though there was absolutely nothing in it for you.”

“Is that why you’ve decided to acknowledge me?”

“Yes. And…… my behavior today was the height of dishonor. If you wish for me to be punished, I will accept it.”

This was no joke. If he got thrown in a cell, his flag for joining the protagonist's party might disappear. The main story was about to begin; I couldn't afford to have Francis locked in a dungeon.

I rejected his offer immediately.

“I couldn't care less what happens to you. Drawing my sword every time I have to swat a noisy gnat is a waste of my time.”

“……I am grateful for your mercy. However, I’m sorry…… I still can’t bring myself to trust you completely based on this alone……”

Well, obviously. If he had trusted me after just that, I would have been the one who was worried.

It was actually better that he said it so clearly.

“That is why, knowing how unreasonable this is, I have a request. Harold, will you duel me?”

Francis bowed his head in a sincere plea. I couldn't understand his motivation, but the request was exactly what I had wanted.

“Itsuki.”

“What is it?”

“You’re the witness.”

“……Good grief. I suppose it can’t be helped.”

“Again, I thank you.”

“Keep your thanks. Just be sure to savor the gap in our strength before you’re crawling miserably on the ground.”

Leaving him with that final insult, I walked out of the room to prepare.

The circumstances were different than I’d planned, but the duel with Francis was officially on.