Chapter 107
An Unexpected Game
Butler Haman left the study.
Watching his retreating back, Johan tapped the armrest of his chair.
‘Hmm.’
He briefly sank into thought.
‘...The Count hired someone that incompetent as a butler?’
No matter how much he thought about it, it made no sense.
The Count was an exceptionally meticulous man.
He always paid attention to even the most trivial matters.
There was no way he would handle a personnel appointment carelessly.
‘Did he choose someone at random because this isn’t his own household?’
That seemed unlikely.
Johan was currently extremely important to the Count.
The Count had no choice but to remain mindful of Johan’s feelings.
He would not want to offend Johan with some trivial mistake.
When it came to anything involving Johan, he had no choice but to do his best.
After all, he needed to resurrect his wife.
Yet he had hired such an unreliable butler. Johan simply could not understand it.
After contemplating the matter briefly, he searched through the stack of documents.
‘Found it.’
Among the documents the Count had given him was a personnel roster for the manor.
Johan examined the information concerning Haman.
Haman von Legersh. The youngest son of House Legersh and the top graduate of the Royal Academy of Etiquette. He was such an outstanding talent that the royal family had attempted to recruit him personally.
Suspicion filled Johan’s face.
‘He’s a noble? And the top graduate of the Royal Academy of Etiquette?’
Some butlers did come from noble families.
The youngest sons of impoverished houses ordinarily inherited no property, so some entered the service of other nobles.
Haman was one of them.
That alone was unusual, but another phrase caught Johan’s attention.
Top graduate of the Royal Academy of Etiquette.
The Royal Academy of Etiquette served as a gateway to government service for commoners and lower-ranking nobles.
The moment a commoner graduated from the academy, they became eligible for an official position.
Most were employed by high-ranking nobles or given minor administrative duties in the royal court.
But being the top graduate was another matter entirely.
Such graduates were immediately appointed to minor offices within the royal court.
They were the finest of the finest.
Johan scoffed.
‘That man graduated at the top of his class?’
The discrepancy between his first impression and the information in the documents was far too great.
Johan stared intently at the page.
The portrait drawn there looked exactly like Haman.
‘Perhaps he’s good at studying but terrible at practical work.’
People like that occasionally existed.
The sort commonly called an absentminded fool.
Johan clicked his tongue and closed the document.
It appeared the Count had hired Haman solely based on his academic record.
‘The Count was unusually careless this time.’
The Count had probably been extremely busy lately.
He likely had not had enough time to handle everything perfectly.
Johan thought nothing more of it.
He had no intention of dismissing Haman, either.
In truth, Haman’s professional competence was not particularly important to Johan.
They would only see each other a few times anyway.
Johan had simply been curious about the Count’s personnel decision and the man named Haman.
All his questions had now been answered.
The Count had been unusually careless, and Haman was simply an incompetent fool by nature.
The moment Johan reached that conclusion, every thought concerning the matter vanished from his mind.
Another concern took its place.
‘Horentz Marcano.’
He would meet the man tomorrow.
The objective of this meeting was simple.
First, Johan had to make a favorable impression. Unless he established a good relationship with House Marcano, his plans would encounter difficulties.
They were one of the royalist factions loyal to the king.
The royalist houses would never acknowledge Myatro’s right to autonomy.
Since Johan intended to become a Grand Duke, he needed to begin by winning over the royalist nobles.
Four houses on the Council belonged to the royalist faction.
Of those, House Marcano would be the easiest to recruit.
Unlike the other royalists, who were bound together by unwavering loyalty, House Marcano acted solely according to its interests.
True to its origins as a merchant family, House Marcano was exceptionally shrewd when it came to calculating profits and losses.
They would probably accept Johan’s proposal.
Johan knew what House Marcano desired, and he was confident that he could exploit it.
He read through the documents the Count had given him.
He was reviewing the information on House Marcano one final time.
Rustle. Rustle.
For a while, only the sound of turning pages echoed through the room.
“This should be enough.”
Mapheltan stretched his body. The arms visible on either side of him were pitch-black.
At some point, he had transformed into a demon.
He looked out the window.
The sun had completely set.
Mapheltan stared blankly outside.
Beyond the manor’s walls, the streets remained filled with lights.
True to its nickname, the City That Never Sleeps, the royal capital was as bright as day even at night.
Only the area around Mapheltan was steeped in pitch-black darkness.
A sudden sense of emptiness washed over him.
“What am I supposed to do now?”
Back in the barony, he had never had time to grow bored, even at night.
Raguel, Ilea, Zalkarin, Gaf, Hakain, and the others—whether he was talking with them or training, Mapheltan’s surroundings were always bustling.
The royal capital was different.
Once the sun set, Mapheltan could do nothing.
He could neither leave the manor nor wander around the city.
The moment he walked through the streets in his demonic form, he would be as good as dead.
The royal capital was filled with countless powerful individuals, and Mapheltan could only operate outside their notice.
In short, he was confined to the manor.
Mapheltan groaned.
“...This is going to be boring for a while.”
Having to waste so much time was almost unbearable.
He needed to find something he could do at night.
Mapheltan stared blankly at the ceiling.
He sank into thought.
His contemplation continued for quite some time.
How much time had passed?
Mapheltan’s brow suddenly furrowed.
‘What was that?’
A faint rustling sound came from somewhere.
Mapheltan listened carefully.
The Apostle’s keen senses spread throughout the manor like a spiderweb.
He heard extremely faint footsteps.
They were accompanied by hushed whispers.
Someone had entered the manor.
Mapheltan frowned.
‘Haman, you idiot. I warned you repeatedly.’
It appeared some of the servants had remained inside the manor.
Mapheltan let out a long sigh and activated his Authority.
His figure vanished like a mirage.
He had concealed himself within the Authority of Silent Night.
No one could sense Mapheltan’s presence.
Having merged with the darkness, he sharpened his senses to their limit.
He could hear voices.
They were too far away for him to make out the conversation.
Swimming through the darkness, Mapheltan left the study.
A long corridor came into view.
There was no one there.
He could only hear footsteps.
‘The stairs?’
Mapheltan glided toward the center of the second floor.
‘What the...?’
Two people wearing black masks were cautiously climbing to the second floor.
They were obviously thieves.
Mapheltan was dumbfounded.
‘Thieves broke in on my very first night?’
It was quite bewildering.
Then something even more absurd happened.
One of the thieves pulled a map from inside his clothes.
Mapheltan approached and examined it.
‘What is this?’
The manor’s layout had been drawn on the map in meticulous detail.
Information about the manor had already been sold.
The thief studying the map pointed somewhere.
The other thief nodded.
After examining several areas of the manor, the two eventually headed toward the study.
Mapheltan silently followed them.
Creeeak.
One of the thieves cautiously opened the study door.
Naturally, no one was inside.
The two entered and immediately began rummaging through the room.
One of them became excited and slightly raised his voice.
“Here. Look at this.”
He was holding a large backpack.
Several dazzling holy relics were visible through its open top.
They were items Johan had taken from the forbidden archive.
The other thief’s eyes lit up.
“I found something too.”
He held a bundle of parchment in his hands.
They were the Council documents Johan had received from the Count.
“What are you going to do with scraps of paper? Just leave them.”
“Idiot. Read a few of the words written here. You’ll change your mind.”
The documents were densely packed with information more valuable than gold.
“Fine. Let’s hurry and get out of here.”
“Why are you in such a rush? Let’s look around some more. When will we ever get another chance to rob a treasure trove like this?”
“I’m too uneasy. Everything is going far too smoothly. Don’t you think it’s strange that a manor this large doesn’t have a single guard?”
“The information came from the Mildan Guild. What’s strange about it? That Watcher of Narak or whatever he’s called came here from the countryside. He probably has no idea how dangerous the world is.”
Mapheltan carefully considered their conversation.
Judging by their mention of the Mildan Guild, information about the manor had been fully disclosed to the thieves’ alliance.
The state of his manor had become public knowledge after only a single day in the capital.
Mapheltan scoffed from within the darkness.
‘This is absurd.’
Who had sold the information about the manor?
It was probably one of the servants.
One of the thieves spoke.
“Either way, I’m too nervous to stay. Rob the rest of the place by yourself. I’m leaving.”
“Tsk. Coward. Fine, get lost. Don’t come begging me for a share later.”
Mapheltan groaned.
The quality of these thieves was appallingly low.
They possessed no professionalism whatsoever.
The two were probably low-ranking members of the Thieves’ Guild.
For riffraff like them to invade the manor of a Council family was anything but normal.
If someone genuinely intended to rob this place, someone much higher in the organization should have made the move.
That was what Mapheltan thought.
One of the thieves hoisted the backpack filled with holy relics onto his back and began walking away.
“I’m leaving. Finish up quickly and get out. Don’t get caught and drag me down with you.”
Just as he was about to leave the study, an eerie voice echoed through the room.
“I am going to ask you a few questions.”
The thieves froze where they stood.
The voice possessed a power that made humans turn rigid with terror.
The thief carrying the stolen holy relics stammered,
“W-Was that your voice?”
“...No. Behind you. That thing.”
The eyes of the thief holding the documents trembled violently.
A hideous being was reflected in his retinas.
A massive pitch-black back. Wings that completely filled the study. Two stark-white horns protruding above the back of its head.
A creature that belonged within the pages of a cursed tome had somehow appeared between the two thieves.
“Behind me? What are you talking—”
One of the thieves turned his head with stiff, jerking movements.
His pupils expanded.
He found himself staring into a pair of crimson eyes.
The thief dropped the backpack.
Overwhelming terror consumed his entire body.
He could not even scream.
Mapheltan slowly opened his mouth.
“First question. Who sold you the information about this manor?”
No answer came.
“H-Huuuh...”
Only ragged breathing could be heard.
Mapheltan tapped the thief’s forehead with one of his long claws.
“Answer me, and you will be permitted a painless death.”
The thief remained frozen.
He could not bring himself to speak.
Mapheltan clicked his tongue.
He gently dragged his sharp claw downward.
Blood streamed from the thief’s forehead.
The crimson liquid flowed into his terror-stricken eye.
One of the thief’s eyes turned scarlet, just like Mapheltan’s.
He suddenly burst into a scream.
“D-Demon! A demon! It’s a demon! Demon!”
The thief began running.
He was sprinting faster than he ever had in his life.
The sight of him fleeing was exceedingly comical.
The corners of Mapheltan’s lips slowly rose.
“I was growing bored. It seems I’ve found myself a game.”
He knew he should not enjoy it, but he found it difficult to suppress his laughter.
Sinister chuckling echoed throughout the dark manor.
Mapheltan slowly glanced behind him.
His eyes curved like crescent moons.
“You should start running too. Hurry.”
The other thief stumbled backward before turning and fleeing.
A game of tag began in the dead of night.