Count’s Youngest Son is a Warlock #Chapter 230: I'm looking at it - Read Count’s Youngest Son is a Warlock Chapter 230: I'm looking at it Online - All Page

Chapter 230: I'm looking at it

Bethel clasped her hands tightly and took a deep breath.

The long-awaited day had finally arrived.

She had never experienced such tormenting sleepless nights before.

As the day of Twilo’s execution drew near, Bethel had anticipated a sense of relief in letting go of it all, but instead, she found herself growing increasingly anxious.

[‘Stay calm, stay calm.’]

Bethel exhaled once more, trying to dispel the overwhelming tremors that consumed her.

What if the Kingdom of Neubra and the Hand of Void tried to help him escape to cover up his own wrongdoings?

What if they broke through the ranks of knights, priests, and even the objects imbued with light, causing havoc today?

Even if he stood before the guillotine, what excuses would Twilo come up with?

What shameless words would come out of that mouth?

Bethel feared every possibility.

[His fate is in your hands, Bethel. So stay composed.]

Russell comforted Bethel as he watched the soldiers heading to fetch Twilo.

[I’m at a loss for words. It feels like my mind is empty.]

Bethel toyed with her curly hair nervously.

[Speak your mind freely or remain silent. Sometimes, silence can spare you from added misery. Perhaps it’s best to swiftly bring his end.]

[You’re right, Russell. I can almost predict what Twilo would say. Why bother engaging in conversation with him?]

Bethel understood.

She knew that words like “sorry” would never come out of Twilo’s mouth.

She realized she shouldn’t even expect that.

Lucion wanted to say something comforting to Bethel, but there were too many eyes on him.

[Thank you, Lord Lucion. But do not strain yourself. I realize the courage it took for you to be present here today.]

Bethel tightly squeezed Lucion’s hand and smiled warmly.

How daunting must this moment still be for him?

Despite being rejected by so many people, so many ghosts, sitting here was truly admirable and remarkable.

—Ratta also wanted to hold Bethel’s hand tightly. When Lucion wanted to cry, Ratta would hold him like this.

[You’re so kind, Ratta.]

Bethel lightly tapped Lucion’s shadow with his finger.

—Bethel, are you going to cry?

[No, I’m not going to cry. Today is a happy day.]

Bethel chuckled with a smile.

[Bethel.]

Russell called Bethel softly, noticing the forced smile in her sadness.

[Yes?]

[He will never apologize to you.]

[I understand. I am well aware.]

[So do not let it unnerve you or break you.]

[I won’t. Because now, the only person my sword needs to protect is Lord Lucion.]

Her final master.

For Lucion’s sake, she had to completely shake off the past today.

It didn’t matter how bitter the taste was.

“Here he comes.”

Carson leaned in, narrowing his eyes.

Lucion followed his gaze and saw a man being dragged in, his legs apparently broken.

Seeing Twilo come out from a back alley rather than the main path Ketlan had taken, Bethel burst out laughing.

[Look at him!]

Clad in tatters, patches of hair missing, his once meticulously groomed beard now gone, with broken legs and limp arms, Twilo presented a pitiful sight that sent Bethel into fits of laughter.

“Is that really Twilo?”

The murmurs among the crowd grew louder.

Was this really the Twilo who had been called the ruler of the East?

Even as they stared at him, disbelief lingered.

Twilo couldn’t even raise his head.

“Behold! The traitor who betrayed the Empire and feasted on the filthy riches of the Kingdom of Neubra!”

Ketlan pointed at Twilo and shouted.

The crowd, unaware of why the former ruler of the East was being executed, had merely come to watch the spectacle of a high noble’s death.

They didn’t know who Twilo was or what he looked like; they were simply excited at the prospect of witnessing the execution.

But with Ketlan’s words, the people’s attitude changed instantly.

“You filthy bastard! Is there no place left for you to crawl except to stick to the Neubra scum?”

“How dare you call yourself human!? Even a three-year-old would know that the Neubra

scum are targeting the Empire!”

“Please execute him immediately, Your Majesty!”

“Exactly! He must be killed immediately! The filthy traitor!”

The people, already on edge from Neubra’s provocations toward the Empire, erupted in anger.

Their anger, fueled by Ketlan’s words, was a sight to behold.

In Bethel’s eyes, it seemed as if sparks had ignited.

She hoped they would burn brighter.

That Twilo would be consumed by the flames.

“Kill him! Kill that bastard!”

As the crowd surged to beat Twilo to death, the soldiers who had lined up for this moment

raised their shields to block the masses.

“I understand your anger.”

Cutting through everyone’s voices, Ketlan’s voice was heard.

“And so, I have brought the traitor before you.”

He briefly signaled that anyone who betrayed the Empire, regardless of their status—be they the ruler of the East or a high noble—would be dealt with equally.

“I will present a total of 432 traitors here today, including Twilo.”

The accomplices were brought forth.

Even after taking them out, there were still so many left.

Among them, nearly a hundred were nobles, including those with names as notorious as Twilo’s.

These rats had hidden from sight while gnawing away at the Empire, trying to crown his son Owen as the Crown Prince to hand over the Empire entirely to Neubra.

Ketlan observed the flicker of hatred reigniting in the people’s eyes.

Among them, he could see resentment directed at himself as well.

But Ketlan continued to speak stoically.

“Twilo was the leader of the 432 traitors, and he sacrificed many of my people to the warlock organization known as the ‘Hand of the Void.’”

Bethel clenched her fists tightly at those words.

“The traitor Twilo caused the deaths of countless innocent souls, my people, in pursuit of his selfish ambitions. My heart aches with grief and anger.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to contain her emotions.

This time, Lucion gently took Bethel’s hand.

Most people were captivated by Ketlan right now, so he thought it was safe enough to comfort her like this.

[Thank you.]

Bethel replied, her voice barely holding back tears.

Ironically, Ketlan’s powerful voice was truly comforting.

Someone finally acknowledged the people who had been forgotten, those who had died as nameless victims.

Those who had perished miserably as test subjects for black magic.

“As nobles, they had a duty to protect the people, but instead, blinded by greed and power, they mercilessly slaughtered my people. Your anger is justified!”

Ketlan validated the people’s rage.

He encouraged them to be angrier. To scream louder, to honor the spirits of those who had died at Twilo’s hands.

“Twilo Sprikado will forever be remembered as a traitor and a despicable figure who betrayed his people for personal gain. He will be remembered as long as the Empire stands. And all those who betrayed the Empire will share the same fate, forever branded with shame.”

Ketlan poured his heart into expressing the sorrow and fury he felt for the nameless citizens he could not save.

He paused for a moment, taking a breath as he looked at Twilo.

The one once called the ruler of the East was now trembling.

Overwhelmed by the crowd’s hatred, he was urinating himself and retching at the sight of the gleaming guillotine.

In a lower voice, Ketlan spoke again.

“Does anyone here remember Roberio, who died here not long ago?”

He was the one who worked with Twilo and the Neubra, colluding with the warlocks to provide funds for building a secret place beneath the business district to create a curse.

‘Of course I remember. The land where the business district was is mine now, and a building is being built.’

Lucion looked at Bethel.

Wasn’t that business district where he met her?

“Roberio, that filthy wretch, was Twilo’s henchman. It was none other than our proud saint, Lucion Cronia, who captured Roberio!”

Ketlan did not specify who had apprehended Twilo, leaving that detail for the crowd to fill in through whispers and rumors.

“…?”

As the gazes of the nobles and the crowd turned toward him, Lucion held his breath.

[Exhale, Lord Lucion.]

Bethel gently patted Lucion’s shoulder.

—Yes, yes! No one is looking at Lucion badly! Trust in Ratta!

Ratta poked at Lucion’s shoe with her front paw, reassuringly.

“Calm yourself,” Carson said, patting Lucion’s back from the side.

“…I-I’m fine.”

Lucion stammered.

But at Ketlan’s gesture, he got up.

Feeling like he was the only one in the spotlight, Lucion felt a sense of suffocation.

He couldn’t hear what Ketlan was saying, as it sounded like a buzzing in his ears.

[Get a hold of yourself, just look at us, Lucion.]

Russell stood before Lucion.

[That’s right. Just focus on us.]

As Russell and Bethel’s voices echoed in his mind, Lucion exhaled deeply.

Clap! Clap! Clap!

Applause erupted around him.

“Saint! Saint!”

“Lucion Cronia! Ooooh! Lucion Cronia…!”

The same people who had been so enraged just moments ago were now chanting his name in unison.

—Heehee! See? Ratta was right! Just like I said, people like Lucion, don’t they?

Ratta wanted to rush to Lucion immediately but held back.

After Lucion gazed at Carson and then looked far away to meet Hume’s gaze, he turned in surprise back to Ketlan, who smiled quietly like Carson and Hume.

Look, see?

This is the result of your efforts.

It felt like he was saying that, and it left Lucion feeling strange.

It was true that he had captured both Roberio and Twilo, yet he hadn’t even said that he had captured Twilo.

But Lucion didn’t mind the cheers.

“Lord Lucion. This cheer is for you.”

Ketlan spoke directly to Lucion.

When he had first become a saint, the people had welcomed him with such fervor.

But now, things are different.

The cheers grew louder, filled with pride and gratitude, echoing in his ears.

In his previous world, everyone had wanted him dead.

But now things are different.

Lucion slowly turned to look at the people.

Instead of screaming, he heard cheers.

Instead of weapons in their hands, the crowd clapped loudly.

He was no longer the enemy of the people.

‘Things are different now.’

Lucion swallowed the lump in his throat and listened to the sounds pouring towards him.

* * *

Lucion witnessed Twilo’s execution by guillotine without any protest from Twilo himself.

Bethel shed tears at the sight.

They were undoubtedly tears of joy.

Crisp.

With a rustle, the red thread was severed, only to connect again toward somewhere else.

Not towards the west, where Newbra’s king was, but towards the east.

There stood the Magic Tower.

The one Twilo had allied with was not the king of Neubra but the boss of the Hand of the Void.

‘Could it be that he’s really at the tower…?’

Lucion clenched his fists tightly.

They had about four hours until they could attack the magic tower, and if they used the portal, they would have about two hours.

Lucion returned to the villa by carriage.

Since they had to stop by the villa before using the portal, Carson pushed hard, hoping Lucion could get some rest.

Thanks to that, Lucion bought himself some time to meet Twilo.

[I suggest you rest first, my lord. There will be another opportunity to meet him later.]

Bethel stopped Lucion, who was changing his clothes to set off as Hamel.

Hume, unable to speak, nodded vigorously in agreement.

Even under Russell’s gentle gaze, Lucion spoke up.

“The Hand of the Void might have arrived first. So we need to go now.”

[Lord Lucion!]

“I’m anxious, Bethel.”

[…]

“Even though my father killed most of them, I can’t stand the thought of those who left scars on my body being right in front of me.”

He would be overwhelmed with the urge to twist their necks immediately.

Bethel would feel the same.

No, she would feel it even more.

Because she was dead, and he was alive.

“Bethel.”

Before donning his mask, Lucion locked eyes with Bethel.

“I haven’t been able to do much for you or Teacher. I can’t treat you to sumptuous meals like Hume and Ratta, or give you a fine sword like the one you hold dear, Bethel.”

Lucion was so grateful to Russell and Bethel.

But it was frustrating that he couldn’t do anything for them, the ghosts.

Bethel’s expression twisted with emotion.

[Don’t say that. You’ve already given me enough, my lord. You fulfilled my last wish. You’ve allowed me to dream again.]

“Well, even though it’s late, think of it as a congratulatory gift for becoming my knight.”

[Lord Lucion!]

“It’s alright to move a little. Thanks to the black orb, the darkness has increased significantly. You know that, right?”

Lucion looked at Bethel and spoke softly, as if whispering.

―Um. Lucion is right. Lucion’s darkness has increased significantly!

With Ratta interjecting, Bethel’s resolve swiftly wavered.

It would be better to conserve his darkness for the raid on the magic tower.

But how could she refuse Lucion?