Chapter 2: The Attacker
DUKE Jordan’s territory was on the western side of the kingdom, where the lord would reside in his castle. However, he was often in the capital for his duties and therefore also had a mansion there.
“Damn that bastard Eric for not taking me seriously!” shouted Keith as he slammed his fist into the mansion wall in rage. “They say this year’s first-year class has a lot of capable fighters, but how dare he imply I wouldn’t participate in the tournament because I’m afraid I’ll lose to one of them?! I will make him suffer at the tournament and show him the difference in strength between us!”
Duke Jordan’s expression was sour as he listened to his son. “You’re aware there’s no benefit to you participating in the tournament this year, since you were last year’s champion, aren’t you? You have a bad habit of immediately letting your emotions get the best of you. Perhaps you should consider working on that.”
Keith had a reputation for being excellent in both academics and combat, making him the star of hope the anti-royalists wished upon, but his personality was a problem. Keith was usually surrounded by nobles from Duke Jordan’s faction. They were mild and meek people meant to improve Keith’s reputation, leading the other students to think of him as a proper young nobleman—all the same, he was a ball of elitist arrogance. He had a short temper that made him draw his sword on anyone and everyone at the slightest provocation.
“Well, there’s no point discussing what’s already been done,” the duke said. “Keith, now that you will be entering the tournament, you must beat that boy Eric. Our dignity will be at stake if he jerks us around any longer.”
“What do you mean, Father?”
Duke Jordan was irritated by the lack of comprehension written on Keith’s face. “Do you have any idea how many nobles have left our faction these past two weeks? Twelve. Eric bribed them all!”
Losing nobles from your faction meant the loss of your political influence, for both the royals and the Three Great Dukes. It was no small matter.
It wasn’t unheard of for nobles to switch factions, but nobles who did were treated as backstabbers by their previous faction, and their new faction rarely trusted them readily. Doing so was a risk to their position. That meant nobles didn’t switch factions without special circumstances, such as receiving something in return that surpassed the risk they were taking, or if it meant avoiding an even greater risk. For example, if they were given a large enough sum of money that they didn’t mind being called traitors, or if someone had found their weakness and threatened them with it, then many nobles would choose to leave their faction. Eric had used all methods to make this happen.
I should be on high alert when it comes to that boy, the duke thought. However, he is still just a welp with little experience who knows nothing of fear. Everything will be perfectly fine if Keith can make him suffer and destroy his reputation in the tournament. And if he can’t, well, there are other options.
Duke Jordan didn’t have particularly high expectations for Keith. His son was short-tempered and lacked prudence, making him difficult for the duke to control. He had no qualms tossing Keith aside if he became a hindrance.
“Damn that bastard Eric for pulling something like this behind my back! Father, leave him to me. I swear I will crush him!” Keith claimed. “That reminds me. Father, as I was leaving Eric’s room, I saw Arius, the son of Chief Minister Darius. He’s also going to be participating in the tournament. Should I crush him as well?”
Keith had heard the rumors about Arius taking part in the defense against the attack during the dungeon diving class, but he still thought of him as nothing more than a first-year, so he didn’t think much of him.
“Ah,” the duke pondered. “Darius Gilberto was an SS-rank adventurer, but still only an adventurer. I’m aware of what the man who conned the king into giving him the position of chief minister is capable of. There’s no need to be wary of his son, but you may as well destroy him if you have the opportunity.”
Duke Jordan’s land was on the western side of the kingdom, far from demon territory, and he hadn’t gone to the front lines during the Crisis of Ronaudia eighteen years ago. He hadn’t seen Darius, considered a hero and savior of the kingdom, fight alongside his companions. His territory was also peaceful with relatively few monsters, which meant he’d never interacted with high-level adventurers. He had a very low opinion of their strength.
“Additionally, Keith,” he began, “if you find yourself up against Zeke or any others involved with the royal family, destroy them all.”
The duke then left the hall and went to his study. This was where he did his paperwork, and servants weren’t allowed to enter without permission.
But when he opened the door to his study, he found a woman wearing a silvery-white mask sitting on his sofa. The mask covered the top half of her face, her hair was pure white, and her robes were jet-black. She was clearly a suspicious-looking person, but Duke Jordan entered the room and closed the door as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
“Altana,” he greeted. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”
“I’m a busy person and I’d rather not be kept waiting, but you’re one of my best clients, so I’ll let it slide this time,” she replied with an accent.
The woman’s name was Altana—she also went by the name Merchant of Death. Depending on how much money you could offer, she could provide you with anything from magic items for assassination or mental manipulation to poisons and drugs. She was also a broker of the underworld, sourcing criminal “cleaners.”
“What did you call me out here for today?” she asked.
“I need First Prince Eric of Ronaudia eliminated, and it must be guaranteed to succeed.”
“I can’t guarantee any such thing, but I can provide firepower that can eliminate almost anyone. The cost will rise proportionally, however,” she answered, providing her fee.
“It’ll take that much? No, it’s a small price to pay if this is what it takes to eliminate that boy.”
“It is. I only named a fair rate, after all,” was her response, but Altana considered him a fool and was robbing him blind. “We have a deal then. I’m sure you’re aware, Your Grace, that we take half up front in this field of business.”
The price she’d set not only covered the cost of hiring cleaners but also provided her with plenty of profit.