Duke, Please Fail! - Side Story 1 (Part 7)

Side Story 1: Part 7

A sharp voice was directed at Devondus.

“Step back, uncle.”

Devondus swallowed a dry spit.

Although the efforts he had put in so far seemed wasted, if he persisted, a rusty blade seemed ready to be held to his throat.

An instinctive fear wrapped around Devondus’ body.

With the remaining strength, he slowly rose, standing in place and glaring at Leonel for a while.

Without exchanging greetings, he walked out of the castle step by step.

After the door closed harshly, Leonel sat down, crossing his legs.

The chair was much softer than the dirt floor, but Leonel felt uncomfortable.

Returning to his colossal inheritance, he felt overwhelmed with responsibility, as if he would be crushed.

“Your Grace, are you okay?”

Levance asked with concern. He seemed worried that Leonel would hide in a corner again, neither sleeping nor eating.

After glancing at him for a moment, Leonel gave him an order.

“Dismiss the maid Devondus hired and bring Roger.”

At the same time, he ordered people to investigate everyone in the castle.

Surprisingly, when Leonel faced a life-threatening situation with a poisoned steak, Roger was confined in an underground prison.

He had been framed and chased away when Leonel left the castle.

No matter how cruel a person may be, it seemed impossible to kill the butler who had cared for him since childhood.

Of course, that couldn’t be a basis for trust.

However, the reason for bringing back the butler who served his parents for a long time was simple.

‘Uncle kicked him out, so at least he won’t be on his side.’

The returned butler looked like he was about to cry as soon as he saw Leonel.

“Young master, may I hug you for a moment?” 

Having consistently kept track of Leonel’s news from afar, the butler Roger couldn’t hide his sympathy. It pained him to see the lively and joyful young master become cold and silent. Without needing an answer, he wanted to embrace Leonel like a grandson. 

However, Leonel stepped back, avoiding Roger’s touch.

“Do you still remember about managing the estate?” 

Roger, masking his bitter feelings skillfully, took a step back and politely replied.

“Yes, Young master.”

“Teach it to Levance and Arette.”

“Understood.”

“And.”

Leonel paused for a moment and continued with a determined voice.

“Addressing. Pay attention to that from now on.”

It was only then that the butler realized his mistake. The robust man standing in front of him was no longer the young Leonel he had cared for. Even if Roger had tender feelings as if looking at a hurt child, Leonel was now the master he should serve.

“I will keep that in mind, Your Grace.”

“Go on.”

Roger bowed his head and left the room. According to Leonel’s orders, he taught the two and gradually organized Devondus’ people. 

Meanwhile, Leonel stabilized taxes, granted amnesty to unjustly burdened estate residents, brought in a still-distraught Faust who hadn’t recovered from the disciplinary action, and settled the orphaned families in the estate. The taxes that Devondus had forgiven for the departed and remaining relatives were once again collected.

In this way, the Altwood Duchy gradually stabilized. 

Meanwhile, those who had trusted Devondus to return to power grew increasingly impatient.

“Why do Lord Devondus, allow the Duke of Altwood to run roughshod over him?”

“I’m sure he has his reasons.”

“I can’t wait forever. Let’s take action.”

“Yes, we should be the strength for him. Now is the opportunity to prove our loyalty.”

They sent assassins, but Leonel took no action. The assassins returned unharmed, and those who had sent them were not punished. 

Leonel’s enemies became more audacious. The number of assassins increased, and Leonel had more days with wounds. Roger, who had returned, cautiously advised him.

“Your Grace, it might be good to see a healer.”

“Not necessary.” 

He knew how to administer basic first aid. Above all, he didn’t want to entrust his body to someone he didn’t know. When he coldly rejected, Levance sighed.

“Then at least punish those who sent the assassins.”

“I don’t have time for such things.”

“Yesterday, the estate manager who saw Your Grace’s injuries ran away in terror.”

“Capture him, pay him, and hire someone new.”

Levance thumped his chest and looked at Arette, signaling him to try to persuade Leonel, but Arette just shook his head quietly.

All they could do was draft a new announcement and distribute it to the nearby city. More time passed. The threat to his life made Leonel more sensitive than expected. He didn’t tolerate even small mistakes from the estate manager. He relentlessly questioned any slight discrepancy in the numbers on documents.

Those who couldn’t handle the workload or Leonel’s temperament continued to flee. Each time, Levance posted a new recruitment notice, but it seemed the word had spread, and no one else showed up to work.

Estate management became the responsibility of Arette, Levance, and Leonel. In particular, Levance struggled to teach math and writing to the former knights serving as supervisors.

“Your Grace, we need to hire an estate manager…”

Levance, muttering on the edge of life and death, threw a crumpled paper onto the desk. Arette, who had been looking at documents, raised his head. With a pale face and sunken eyes, he pointed at Levance with his finger.

“He seems dead.”

Leonel’s gaze turned to Levance. When he knocked on the table as if knocking on a door, Levance gasped and sat up.

“Sorry!”

“Never mind. Take a break today. Any applicants for the estate manager position?”

Leonel turned his head and asked Arette.

“No one.”

“Alright.”

He sighed softly and left the office, leaving his subordinates behind. 

In the hallway, a few servants were milling about. Leonel, who hadn’t slept for days, looked visibly worn out. The servants stopped their work and pressed against the wall, bowing their heads. 

Leonel wasn’t venting his anger, but the servants tried to stay as far away from him as possible, driven by instinctive fear. Any movement contrary to him was sure to catch their attention. 

‘Another assassin.’ 

Before the thought could fully form, one servant pulled a dagger from his robes and rushed at Leonel. Simultaneously, a scream echoed from the other side. 

“Aaah!” 

Leonel reflexively turned his head to check if someone was injured. The screaming servant had just fallen over in surprise. But because of that, Leonel ended up cutting his throat deeply. He clutched his neck and dodged the assassin rushing towards him. 

Arette and Levance, who had rushed out upon hearing the scream, quickly subdued the assassin. 

“Your Grace, you’re wounded!” 

He felt the throbbing pulse of torn vessels and the sensation of blood spurting out. If he had turned his head a little later, he might have been killed instantly. 

Ignoring Levance’s shocked expression, Leonel coldly stared at the servant who had screamed. A fierce chill filled his crimson eyes. 

“Fire him.”

“Understood. But first, let me get you some medical atten—” 

“Forget it.” 

He brushed away Levance’s hand and headed to his room. He fired anyone who screamed or panicked among those he encountered. 

Roger wrote recommendation letters for those he let go, helping them find better jobs. Leonel, aware of the situation, didn’t hesitate to send people away. 

After a few more days, no one was surprised by Leonel’s wounds. Only those who could calmly endure the sight of blood, blades, and flesh remained in the mansion. 

‘Quiet.’

Leonel was content with his lifestyle, but it appeared precarious to those around him. Especially Roger, who seemed to burn inside as he witnessed Leonel casually dealing with paperwork or organizing, even after giving his neck to an assassin.

“Your Grace, it might be wise to issue a warning.”

“Leave me be.”

Roger couldn’t bring himself to follow that order. He moved without reporting to his master. The next day, the poisoned assassin’s body was neatly packaged and sent to various mansions. The ribbon tied around the box was sealed with the unmistakable Altwood family crest.

Although Roger had orchestrated it, those who saw it thought it was a warning from Leonel. After that incident, assassination attempts abruptly ceased.

Before Arette could report to Leonel, Roger preemptively discussed his unilateral actions.

“I apologize. I disobeyed orders, so I’ll accept any punishment you decide.”

Leonel, seemingly indifferent, sorted through the mess Devondus had written in the ledger.

“Ensure it doesn’t happen again.”

Roger, with a lot on his mind, looked at Leonel with a sigh.

Leonel gestured for him to leave.

Alone, Leonel couldn’t focus on the words in front of him. He sighed deeply, crossing his legs and leaning back in the chair.

“Futile actions.”

His inner thoughts surfaced quietly.

He seemed to be doing much better than when he was in the capital. He wasn’t doing anything self-destructive, and he ate his meals on time.

He wasn’t sleeping well, but that was true of Levance, Arette, and Roger. It was all part of the excuse of being busy.

But inside, he was no different.

The guilt was still there. If he didn’t move, the sensation of stabbing Tatiasun would come back under his callused skin, reminding him of the time when he did nothing but allow the betrayal.

Reality, yes. He endured it. There was plenty to do, which helped to distract his mind. He could escape anywhere.

But in his dreams, there was no escape.

He feared confronting his mistakes, trapped behind the curtain of the night that suppressed all senses.

So, he didn’t stop the assassins.

Thanks to those who emerged day and night, targeting his life, Leonel could avoid sinking into the past even in the middle of the night.

When trapped in guilt, the sudden appearance of an assassin was even welcome. It felt as if a disciple of justice had come to administer a deserved punishment, and it eased his heart.

Then, he could escape from the dreams.

If he fell asleep like passing out, he inevitably suffered nightmares, but his tense body quickly woke him up.