The Terminally Ill Young Master is the Mad Dog of the Underworld

[Translator - Pot]

[Proofreader - Kawaii]

Chapter 118: The Dagger and the Honey

I arrived at the reception room where Ulbhild was waiting.

“Sister.”

“Allen.”

I bowed my head to Ulbhild.

“Thank you, Sister. Rudgarda and I had an open and honest conversation, and in the end, we swore an oath to cooperate for our mutual goals.”

“Oh, is that true?”

Ulbhild let out a sigh of relief, pressing a hand to her chest.

“You’ve made a truly difficult decision.”

“It was both difficult and easy at the same time.”

I bowed my head again.

“It was only possible thanks to you for bridging the gap. This meeting will bring about a seismic shift in the future, one beyond imagination.”

“You’re right. How many people could have predicted that the two of you would join hands for a common purpose?”

“Indeed.”

I nodded, clenching my teeth. The weight of my concerns was embedded in that tension.

‘Should I really reveal my secret to Ulbhild?’

The secret that I had built a second identity in the underworld to expand my influence.

‘The more people who share a secret, the greater the risk of it leaking.’

That would be a disaster. I already had an enemy—Verdzig—who was suspicious of me.

‘Entrusting the dagger of my secret into another’s hands... How terrifying a thought that is.’

Karzan’s soul knew that truth all too well.

‘But...’

I looked down at my palm.

The act of shaking hands, I once heard, originally came about to show that one was unarmed—to prove to a stranger that there was no weapon in hand.

…And Ulbhild had already shown me immense trust and support. If so, then this was simply my handshake to the sister who had stood by me.

“Sister.”

“Hm?”

I met Ulbhild’s glimmering eyes and spoke.

“There is something I must tell you.”

* * *

I explained many things to Ulbhild—secrets that even Verdzig, despite all his suspicion and relentless probing, had never managed to uncover.

“Hmm…”

Ulbhild let out a hum, listening intently. I had much to say.

How I had donned the mask Verdzig gave me, disguised myself as Peter, and used the cover of night to bring a fifth-rate underworld organization under my control.

How I had expanded that organization and crushed a neighboring organization, only to discover that they had been vile criminals who kidnapped and sold children.

How, to avoid Verdzig’s suspicions, I had hired Peter’s younger sister, Bridget, as my liaison and established a legitimate pawnshop and general store as a front.

And finally, how I had obtained information about Eisenach’s survivors through Karl and arranged for Zizek to make contact with them.

“…This is absurd.”

After hearing everything, Ulbhild pressed a hand to her forehead, lost in thought for a long while.

“…Incredible. Truly incredible. Now it makes sense why you were able to carry out Venion’s task so flawlessly.”

“I suppose it does.”

I smirked.

“And more than that, Allen… Brother Verdzig’s suspicions were astoundingly close to the truth.”

"I have to admit, that surprised me too. He truly is a fearsome man."

"Don’t let your guard down, not even for a moment. If your secret is exposed, it’s over."

Ulbhild understood exactly what it meant for me to have revealed this secret to her.

"Allen, thank you."

She smiled.

"I didn’t expect you to trust me this much."

"It was you who trusted me first, Sister."

"It wasn’t unconditional trust. I tested you multiple times and made sure there was a solid basis for it."

"As you should have."

"Hearing you say that makes me feel a little less guilty."

Ulbhild was strangely earnest about things like this. She had taught me martial arts, given me a hidden blade, and even helped me establish ties with Rudgarda—and yet she still felt embarrassed, as if her intentions hadn’t been entirely pure.

"It was also unexpected that Brother Karl shared information about Eisenach with you."

"I’m deeply grateful for that as well."

Ulbhild nodded.

"You’ve accomplished a great deal. But more than anything, I admire the fact that you didn’t simply rely on others’ help—you made sure to keep a hidden blade of your own."

Even after hearing my secret, her response was one of admiration. It was almost embarrassing.

‘Well, I suppose I did do a good job.’

At this rate, she might start praising me just for knowing how to use a fork properly.

"If you ever need my help for something urgent, don’t hesitate to ask."

"I’ll take you up on that when the time comes."

Having Ulbhild and the Special Operations Division as allies was reassuring, to say the least.

‘Though Verdzig has probably planted a spy or two within their ranks.’

At the very least, there likely weren’t any among the Second Battalion—the ones who practically worshipped Ulbhild. If there were, then that person would have to be a born infiltrator and actor.

"If any news comes in from Eisenach, be sure to let me know."

"Of course."

I nodded.

"But I don’t expect anything significant to come up right away. Even if Zizek gets there, it’s not like they can be found immediately."

Nothing in this world ever came that easily. Most things required patience, time, and a fair share of failure.

All I could hope for was that Zizek would at least uncover a small clue.

"You shouldn’t overextend yourself either, Sister. If Brother Verdzig’s suspicions and scrutiny focus too much on you, it’ll make things difficult for both of us."

"You’re saying I should hold on to my best cards for later. Understood."

Ulbhild nodded without hesitation before offering me a piece of advice, her voice tinged with concern.

"If you’ve built an influence in the underworld, be wary of the Security Guards. They’re a web woven by Grunewald. If you attract their attention, you’re attracting Grunewald’s."

"Yes. I’ve already instructed my people to treat them well and slip them some pocket money when needed."

"Good. More than anything, the Security Guards is heavily influenced by Somerset. You don’t want to leave a trail that leads back to him."

"Ah… Brother Somerset."

I suddenly realized I had completely pushed him out of my mind.

"He’s been so quiet lately that I almost forgot about him."

"Don’t underestimate him. Regardless of his own abilities, his maternal side wields considerable influence."

"Understood."

As Ulbhild pointed out, Somerset had two powerful shields—the Grunewald name and the full backing of Agrippa.

If he ever lost control or someone managed to manipulate him, he could turn into an unpredictable disaster waiting to happen.

‘What a pathetic fool. Just like that Barclava.’

…Though, considering that Barclava has been acting more like a decent human being lately, that might be an overly harsh comparison.

‘Then let’s just call him a bastard like Somerset.’

***

“Ugh, my head is splitting.”

Zizek groaned as he woke up, suffering from a hellish hangover. Tara handed him a cup of honey water.

“Kid, this is honey water, not honey mead, right?”

Tara only shot him a look of utter disappointment before walking out of the room without a word.

“Hey, I was talking to you. At least answer me.”

Zizek grumbled as he took a sip.

“Ugh, that’s sweet.”

The warmth spread through him, easing the knots in his stomach. Enjoying the relief, he briefly closed his eyes and rubbed his solar plexus before nudging Rob, who was sprawled out beside him.

“You gonna get up or what, you drunk bastard?”

“Ugh…”

Rob groaned and shifted uncomfortably.

“Let him be. He kept drinking even after you passed out.”

As if taking over from Tara, Balthazar and Knut entered the room.

“How’s your condition?”

Zizek ran a hand over his face before answering.

“I’m fine. I’ll be heading back before the sun is at its peak.”

“There’s something we need to give you first.”

Balthazar reached into his robes and pulled out a letter.

“This is the letter we spoke of yesterday. If you bring us a handwritten response from Lusatia, we will agree to join forces with you.”

“I understand. I’ll make sure to get it.”

“And one more thing.”

At Balthazar’s glance, Knut took something from his coat—a dagger, sheathed in a scabbard engraved with strange patterns.

“This blade is coated with a lethal poison.”

Knut spoke evenly.

“If you encounter an opponent you cannot defeat, use it to strike them down. If that is impossible—use it to take your own life.”

“...!”@@novelbin@@

“You now know our secrets. You must never allow them to fall into enemy hands.”

Knut’s voice remained calm, resolute.

“But you are far too weak to protect a secret. That is why we are giving you this.”

“Damn it.”

Zizek scowled as he took the dagger.

“Then I’ll make sure I never have to use it.”

“Even after hearing this, you respond with anger and defiance instead of fear. A man like you will make a fine warrior.”

Knut’s tone carried a trace of approval.

“Train harder. Right now, you are too weak—both to be Allen’s retainer and to be our ally.”

Zizek was the kind of man who knew when to accept the truth rather than bristle at it.

“One day, I’ll grow strong enough to prove you wrong.”

“Hm.”

Knut nodded before pulling out something else.

“I can’t just give you the whip without a carrot. This is honey infused with mana—it will increase your mana reserves.”

“…Huh?”

“Take it with you and consume it when you return.”

It was the very same thing that Allenvert had once received from Emengarde.

“Th-Thank you, Brother!”

Zizek immediately bowed at a perfect right angle.

“Don’t hog it all for yourself. Dilute it into honey water and share it with your subordinates. They’re pitifully weak.”

“Understood!”

Zizek, who had been scowling just moments ago, suddenly grinned from ear to ear.

“From now on, I’ll call you Brother.”

Knut responded dryly.

“Quit the nonsense and go home.”

***

Venion—sword instructor and examiner of Allenvert Grunewald, the fourth Young Master. Yet, those were not his only duties.

“...Hmm.”

His desk was covered with various reports, which he continued to compile and annotate. Despite the sheer volume of documents, everything was meticulously organized, giving no sense of clutter. That alone spoke to the precision of its owner.

“I’m just about done with this.”

In the silence, only the steady scratching of a quill could be heard.

Venion was drafting a report for the Elder Council.

However—

“No matter how much I organize, the work never ends.”

He tapped his pen idly, tracing invisible words in the air—a mental exercise to filter out key points from an overwhelming flood of information.

“Hm.”

Setting aside the report, he took out a blank sheet of paper and began writing something entirely different.

The content was vastly unlike his official report.

“…So, this isn’t merely a struggle between brothers.”

Venion contemplated the forces lurking within Verdzig’s shadow.

“It’s a proxy war of sorts.”

At the same time, he considered those opposing Verdzig—Ulbhild, Karl, and Allenvert.

‘I never expected Young Master Allenvert to become such a key figure in such a short time.’

A wry smile crossed his lips as he thought of his fascinating pupil—his most intriguing subject of observation.

‘And I wonder… who did Lady Ulbhild introduce to her brother today?’

He had his suspicions.

‘No, surely not. There’s no way… but still.’

A troubling thought crossed his mind—that the person in question might be Rudgarda Angantyr, the hostage sent by the new king of the mountain tribes.

‘I’ll have to verify her movements again.’

Yet his sharp instincts whispered that, should he do so, he would find gaps—suspicious voids where there should be a trail.

“If the two of them were to join hands—”

It was Venion’s duty to consider even the most improbable scenarios.

“That would be something remarkable. A bold move. Not something an ordinary man could achieve.”

He folded his arms, murmuring to himself.

“If such a thing is possible…”

Then, without a doubt—

“It would mean that Young Master Allenvert is truly an extraordinary man.”

More so than even Venion’s current assessment of him.

‘How fascinating. Just how far will that man go?’

Would he be a deep well? A mighty river? Or would he prove to be the vast, endless sea?

Leaning back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, Venion let out a quiet chuckle.

“But before that—”

He needed to see just how much Allenvert had truly mastered this newfound power.

Only then could he determine the course of the mission that was to follow.

[Translator - Pot]

[Proofreader - Kawaii]