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

[Translator - Pot]

[Proofreader - Kawaii]

Chapter 138: Politics is Cold

“Young master, you always have such a charming way about you,” Peter remarked in admiration as we returned from picking up the ceremonial robes.

“That’s just how I am,” I replied.

“It’s much more comfortable and enjoyable to talk to people like that old tailor, who’s dedicated his entire life to his craft.”

“Is that so?”

“They’re generally simple and sincere, so they rarely speak with ulterior motives.”

In contrast...

“When dealing with those deeply entrenched in the politics and inner workings of this duchy, you must always stay on guard and keep your wits about you. It’s quite exhausting and bothersome.”

“Now that you mention it, I see what you mean.”

Peter would understand my words well. Living in the palace meant dealing with such things.

“But think about it. If someone like my second brother were to sit on the ducal throne...”

I glanced at Peter and Olivier.

“What would happen? If it were him, he wouldn’t hesitate to abandon or even kill servants, librarians, cooks, or gardeners if it suited his needs.”

Verdzig is the kind of person who can easily use and discard people. He doesn’t see others as equals.

‘Just like Karzan, who was abandoned by the Dark King.’

“I don’t want to see that happen, Peter.”

“As expected, you’re a kind person, young master.”

“Out of nowhere?”

“It’s not out of nowhere.”

Then Olivier added with a warm expression, “This side of you hasn’t changed since you were young.”

“Praising me won’t get you anything.”

I let out a scoff. It wasn’t out of embarrassment. The Allenvert they know is both the same as Karzan and, in some ways, a completely different person. After all, he’s lived his life forgetting Karzan’s past.

‘But...’

Sometimes, drawing this line between Allenvert and Karzan feels like trying to separate one soul into two distinct beings, and it leaves me confused.

If that’s truly the case, does that mean the lonely, fragile boy still crouching somewhere in my subconscious is nothing more than a figment of my imagination?

‘There’s no need to overanalyze it.’

Whether it’s an illusion or proof that I have a split personality, it doesn’t matter.

‘I am both Karzan and Allenvert.’

Therefore, Karzan, who has inherited Allenvert’s life, will naturally carry on the joys, sorrows, dreams, and hatreds of that young boy.

‘That’s enough.’

There’s no need to strain myself to define who I am.

***

“Is everyone here?”

“We greet you, Father.”

Count Bergen had summoned his two sons.

One was Lawrence, a capable son who served as the magistrate of Grunewald, and the other was Malekian, who had been lying low after being humiliated by his nephew due to his recklessness.

“Evan Bergen’s mother has disappeared.”

The Count looked at Malekian with disdain.

“You couldn’t even keep one hostage in your own chambers, and now things have come to this.”

“......”

Malekian hung his head low.

Normally, he would have felt anger at his father’s blatant reproach, but now he was too overwhelmed with panic and frustration to react. This matter was directly tied to his own safety.

“Father, who could have taken her, and how?”

“We don’t know.”

Unlike Malekian, the Count answered his capable eldest son in a calmer tone.

“According to the reports, the intruders left no trace behind. They didn’t even kill the guards.”

“They’re no ordinary individuals, then.”

Of course, the Count had personally punished the guards. Since he couldn’t kill his own son, he instead executed the subordinates as a warning. As a result, Malekian was left in this dejected state.

“Truly elusive. To pull off an operation like this, it would require someone at least at the level of a Special Operations Division Commander or a Deputy Commander or Commander of the Royal Guards.”

“Are you saying Young Master Allenvert has such subordinates?”

That was the crux of the issue.

“Brother, surely Jeffrey wasn’t involved in this, was he?”

Malekian cautiously asked, but Lawrence dismissed it outright.

“Impossible. At that time, Jeffrey was with Young Master Allenvert, meeting Evan.”

He had personally confirmed it, so there was no doubt.

“Could Young Lady Ulbhild have assisted?”

Even to the Count’s question, Lawrence shook his head.

“At that time, Young Lady Ulbhild was conducting training within the territory.”

“......”

The three men fell silent simultaneously.

If so, this was the work of an unknown enemy. One whose identity even they couldn’t uncover.

“This is absurd. Are you saying Young Master Allenvert could deceive the eyes of us Bergens and carry out such operations under the surface?”

No one could have imagined he had joined hands with Rudgarda.

“...He’s a cunning man who has managed to secure his own gains several times against Verdzig.”

Lawrence remarked.

“It wouldn’t be strange if he had that level of skill.”

“Hoh.”

The old Count clicked his tongue.

“Grunewald, Grunewald. Truly a monstrous bloodline.”

He didn’t say more. It wasn’t appropriate for a vassal to speak so openly about their lord’s lineage.

His boldness and belligerence are far from ordinary. Even when his attendant was nearly killed in broad daylight, he bared his teeth instead of showing fear.

However, the moment Allenvert played the card of Evan as his means of retaliation, this was no longer just a simple sibling rivalry.

If left unchecked, the entire Bergen could be dragged into a massive scandal, accused of plotting something against the Young Master of Grunewald.

“Truly a reckless brat.”

The old Count twisted his lips.

“In a way, this might be the true beginning of a sibling feud.”

Given that the conflict between the two brothers was beginning to draw in surrounding factions like a massive whirlpool.

As Lawrence said, they might be witnessing the dawn of a great upheaval.

“One thing is clear: the Bergen name must not be mentioned in this incident.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Father.”

The Bergen Count, who had been tapping the armrest, narrowed his eyes.

“What’s the situation with Young Master Somerset?”

“The Agrippa side is also expressing displeasure at the Young Master’s sudden erratic behavior.”

“As they should.”

The old Count twisted his lips.

Reaching out to the underworld and trying to control them—did he think he was some kind of shadowy power broker? Just a brat playing at being the leader of a bunch of lowlifes, thinking he’s something special.

“Perhaps he’s come up with some ingenious move I’m unaware of?”

“That’s unlikely.”

Lawrence, who had a rough idea of the situation, dismissed it outright.

“At best, it’s just the pitiful thinking of a child.”

“Is that so?”

The old Count smiled faintly.

“Then perhaps the solution to this situation lies there.”

“Father, surely not.”

At that moment, the father and son, as seasoned politicians, arrived at the same conclusion.

“Are you thinking of diverting attention with Young Master Somerset’s affairs?”

The Count nodded.

“It won’t be enough, but it should suffice to buy us some time. Make the necessary preparations on that front.”

“Understood.”

The Agrippa and Bergen clans were cooperating under a shared goal, but—

That didn’t mean there was any deep loyalty between the two clans. Politics, after all, is inherently cold.

***

Agrippa clan had been in a tense and uneasy mood lately.

“I can’t fathom what Somerset is thinking.”

Silas Agrippa, the treasurer of Grunewald, was having a serious conversation with his elder sister, Bianca, who also served as the matron of the ruling family.

“If he truly believes he can ally with the Visakino brothers and wield them as his blade, that would be a truly foolish notion.”

Bianca sighed in response.

“He’s completely lost his way. Even his own mother has been avoiding him lately.”

“She probably doesn’t want to hear any harsh words from you. She knows she can’t persuade him.”

Somerset, who had always been hot-tempered and impulsive, had long harbored resentment under his mother’s strict control.

The inferiority complex of being overshadowed by Verdzig and Karl had twisted him further, especially with the rise of the fourth Young Master, Allenvert, from the shadows.

Eventually, he fell prey to the subtle coaxing of the underworld figures who had once indulged his “nighttime escapades,” becoming trapped in his own delusions of grandeur.

“Somerset knows full well that the vassals and connections he has were all inherited from his maternal clan.”

To someone as shrewd as Silas, Somerset’s thoughts were as clear as the palm of his hand.

“So now he wants to use fear and force to establish his authority.”

“All while neglecting his duties as the Commander of the Security Guards,” Bianca added with a sneer.

While Verdzig, who had proven his exceptional martial prowess, commanded the Royal Guards, and Ulbhild, equally capable and neutral, led the Special Operations Division, and Karl, though less skilled, maintained his dignity as the eldest Young Master by overseeing the Knighthood—

Somerset was left with nothing more than the Security Guards. Even his progress in mastering the martial arts was the slowest among his brothers.

Despite their efforts to secure rare spirit medicines and hire the best instructors for him.

“It’s frustrating. He can’t even properly take control of the force he’s been given, let alone turn it into his own support base.”

All of this was a test to prove his worth as a successor, but Somerset refused to listen.

“Instead, he’s colluding with the worms of the underworld, spouting sweet words and seeking easy results.”

Silas didn’t hide his disappointment in his nephew.

That was the difference between Somerset and his three brothers.

“...It’s pitiful, truly pitiful.”

Bianca smiled bitterly.

“But this isn’t something we can just shake our heads at from afar, sister.”

If only blaming his failures as a parent could solve the problem, it would be a relief.

“You’re right.”

What was most frightening was that her husband, Duke Georg, couldn’t possibly be unaware of the situation.

“He knows everything and is choosing to stand by. That’s what terrifies and chills me the most.”

Perhaps Somerset had long since fallen out of favor, and the Duke was simply waiting to see how far he would fall.

If that were the case, not only would Somerset lose his claim to succession, but the Agrippas might also lose their place in the next generation of the Grunewald Duchy.

“The Bergens may be allied with us now, but they’re the type to stab us in the back at any moment.”

With such a glaring weakness, Verdzig could exploit Somerset and the Agrippas in ways they couldn’t yet predict.

“What should we do?”

In response to his sister’s question, Silas replied, “He once said that since his talents fall short of his brothers’, he has no choice but to struggle in his own way.”

The image of Somerset defiantly showing his rebellious streak even in front of his uncle was still vivid.

“If that’s his answer, I thought of letting it play out for a while, but...”

The problem was the banquet hosted by Duke Georg himself, the first in two years.

“If Somerset’s antics are exposed and attacked by his brothers there, it will be a disaster.”

It would be the end of his chances in the succession race. A man lacking both talent and public support, burdened with such a scandal, would meet an inevitable downfall.

“It’s not just Verdzig we need to worry about. Karl is also a threat.”

Silas added with a grim expression.

“The only silver lining is that Young Master Allenvert hasn’t caught wind of this yet.”

Allenvert’s ability to provoke Somerset in front of everyone at the banquet couldn’t be taken lightly. One wrong move, and things could spiral out of control.

“Make sure Jeffrey and Olivier don’t find out either. Be extra cautious.”

“Understood, sister.”

Bianca let out a long sigh, rubbing her throbbing temples as she stood up.

“There’s no other way. I’ll go meet Somerset myself.”

She couldn’t let her son’s immaturity bring ruin to the Clan.

[Translator - Pot]

[Proofreader - Kawaii]