A heavy, suffocating silence filled the duke’s study.
My father—Duke Gloas von Einhart—pressed a hand to his forehead and let out a long, weary sigh.
"I never imagined I would be forced to disinherit you by royal decree..."
"I am truly sorry, Father."
I bowed my head.
Normally, the disinheritance of the eldest son and heir by direct order of the royal family would be an indelible stain on a ducal house. It was only natural for me to be seen as a disgrace.
However, Father showed neither anger nor exasperation.
Even now, he still believed in me. He had been the same way in the World as It Should Be. That was why I knew I didn't need to make him hate me.
"To be honest, the palace has been suggesting your disinheritance for several years now. There have been many complaints from the citizens of our fief, after all."
No surprise there.
In this case, it was my own past self who had paved the way for my downfall.
"Is there really nothing you can tell me?"
Father gazed at me with kind, searching eyes.
"I’m afraid I don't know what you mean."
"In the past, you were merely a fool. But now... now I sense a certain conviction in you. Why do you accept this exile so readily? Is there not some reason you feel you must do this?"
I pressed my lips together.
If Father had truly given up on me, I could have played the part of the clown to my heart's content. It would have been so much easier if we could have shouted at each other—if I could have screamed that I hated him and he could have told me never to show my face again.
But Father wouldn't abandon me.
And so, I had no choice but to remain silent.
"You really won't explain? This comes immediately after the attack on the Royal Capital. To an outsider, it looks as though you were complicit in the assault."
Well, technically, I was.
Besides, it would be easier for me to operate if people believed the worst of me.
When I didn't answer, Father let out another deep sigh before delivering his sentence.
"Claude... you are hereby disinherited. From this moment on, you are forbidden from stepping foot on this estate."
With a look of profound pity, Father carried out the King's order.
In any case, once a Royal Order had been issued, avoiding disinheritance was impossible. The other lords would likely be satisfied with the news. They would think the Evil Brat had finally been brought to justice.
"I don't know what you’re trying to achieve, but... your mother is going to be absolutely furious."
A visible shudder ran through my shoulders.
Mother...
She was currently away inspecting the territory, but that woman was truly terrifying when she lost her temper.
I really, really didn't want to make her angry.
The mere thought of it filled me with dread.
I absolutely, positively, hated the idea of that!
"Is—Is it really that bad?" Zest’s voice echoed in my mind. "You're more afraid of her than an Apostle."
That was because she was incredibly sharp.
It shouldn't have been possible, but I had a nagging suspicion she already knew everything about my situation. In fact, Father was probably pushing the disinheritance through now precisely because she wasn't here. If she had been present, she might have started a diplomatic incident with the royal family, and I wasn't even joking.
Mother was brilliant and wise, but she was also incredibly strong-willed. In that sense, she was a perfect match for Father, who was a bit timid but possessed great foresight.
"As for Chesa... she says she intends to follow you," Father added suddenly.
"I’m a commoner now, Father. I can't even pay her a salary."
"It is her own fervent wish. She told me, 'I will follow him to the very depths of hell.'"
I didn't want to take Chesa to hell with me.
Zest was more than enough company for that.
"You..." Zest grumbled.
My conscience didn't prick me when it came to Zest, at least.
"You bastard...!"
But honestly, it was probably a blessing.
As a practical matter, I didn't have enough time to do everything alone. Now that I would be living as a commoner, the list of chores I’d have to handle myself was going to grow. For the time being, I decided to rely on her.
My life was about to change drastically, but at least I wouldn't be a burden to my family anymore.
As I felt a surge of renewed determination, I could feel my face begin to distort.
"Is there a reason for that expression as well?" Father asked, observing me closely.
"No... it just happens on its own when I focus."
I didn't need a mirror to know what I looked like. Right now, I likely had a villainous, intimidating scowl that would make anyone flinch. It was the same face I’d seen reflected in the river yesterday. It had returned to normal for a while, but ever since then, it would reappear whenever I exerted even the slightest effort.
"Claude. Truly... if the worst should happen, ignore the decree and come crawling back to us."
"Thank you, Father."
I gave a deep bow and left the study.
Father was a good man to the very end. More than I deserved. I wondered what would happen to the succession now that I was gone. I was the only child of the Einhart family... I could only hope they found a worthy foster child to take my place.
I returned to my room to pack.
I didn't have much to take—just a change of clothes and some immediate funds.
"Lord Claude, I have prepared your belongings here."
Chesa assisted me with her usual devotion.
While she was certainly reliable, it felt unnatural for a Stepping Stone like me to have such a loyal attendant.
"Don't do anything unnecessary," I spat, trying to maintain my persona. "A tool should act like a tool and only follow my instructions—"
"—Yes, I am your tool, Lord Claude," Chesa replied without a second's hesitation.
Her eyes were unsettlingly clear.
"Therefore, please give me any order you wish. I will be the most convenient tool you have ever possessed."
She took a step toward me.
"You are injured, aren't you? I am a tool for healing wounds. Won't you use me?"
The injuries I’d sustained against the Apostles hadn't healed yet. I had tried to hide them with bandages, but Chesa had seen right through me.
A tool to heal wounds...
There was no way I could actually look at her like that. Chesa was a person.
"But wouldn't treating a servant like an object be fitting for a Stepping Stone?" Zest interjected.
I froze. He was right.
Zest, you genius!
If I treated her that way, it wouldn't be strange for me to keep a follower. In fact, having Chesa around would only enhance my villainous reputation. A despicable man who treated a pitiable girl like a mere object—it was the perfect image.
"Fine. Then I'll work you to the bone. Heal my wounds."
"As you wish."
Chesa placed her hand on my chest. A pale, blue light emanated from her palms, and the pain began to recede. It was the Fourth Rank Magic, Cure—a spell only Water Attribute users could master.
It was a convenient power. If I could receive this treatment regularly, my training would become much more efficient.
"Please leave the arrangements for our new home to me as well. I will handle the cooking, the laundry, and the cleaning. I will do everything," Chesa murmured as she worked. "I am a tool. A tool you can use however you like. So, please... keep me by your side. Please, please... let me do something for you...!"
Tears began to stream down her face.
Had I gone too far? She was getting "heavy" again. Even if she begged me to give her more tasks, healing my injuries was already a massive help. I couldn't let her assist with anything more than that.
To become Reiji's Stepping Stone and perish spectacularly—that was a mission I had to bear alone. I was the only one who needed to be hated by the world. I couldn't let Chesa shoulder that burden.
Chesa didn't need to know anything.
"I suppose so..." Zest muttered.
"Zest? You sound like you have something to say."
"It's nothing. For now, just let her stay until she grows tired of it."
That seemed reasonable. I didn't need to decide everything right this second.
Still, Chesa was the ultimate servant. I had never seen such loyalty. Perhaps she was still dwelling on the incident with the poison? If so, I really wished she would stop worrying about it.
"Well, let's go with that," Zest said cryptically.
I didn't like his tone, but I had more pressing matters to attend to.
"What about Logen? What happened to him?"
"I don't know," Zest replied. "He never showed himself in the end. From The Order's perspective, he’s the reason they lost. He’ll likely be held responsible... or at worst, disposed of."
It was a strong possibility.
What bothered me most, however, was what I had seen through the Master Eye. Compared to Celestia's situation, the discrepancy between the vision and reality was massive this time. Reiji never came to the castle, and Irene never transformed into that white monster.
I should have been happy that I’d prevented it, but the mystery remained. Why would Irene have become such a creature? And had I truly removed the root cause?
If I could find Logen, I could force the truth out of him. I decided then and there to track him down. Even if The Order had executed him, I wouldn't stop until I found a corpse.
"Can I heal that face with magic as well?" Chesa asked.
Ah. My face must have distorted again.
"This isn't a wound. Mind your own business."
"Yes, My Lord."
Personally, I found this face quite useful, but it clearly bothered Father and Chesa. I suppose watching someone's face spontaneously twist into a mask of malice looked like a serious medical condition.
"I have to..."
A tiny whisper escaped Chesa’s lips.
"Not just the wounds... I have to become a tool that can heal his heart, too..."
She kept her head down, muttering to herself. Just as I was about to ask what she was talking about, she slowly looked up.
Her eyes were muddy and dark. It was that ominous look she’d been showing more and more lately. She stared intensely at my right shoulder—the spot where the black tattoo was hidden under my clothes. The spot where Zest resided.
"Ah... ah... ah...!" Zest began to stammer in my mind. "I even stood up for her! I stood up for her and this is what I get!?"
My right shoulder began to tremble uncontrollably.
I wondered if I should give Zest a break. But how exactly do you let a sentient sword rest?
Maybe I should hang him out to dry in the sun?