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

[Translator - Pot ]

[Proofreader - Kawaii ]

Chapter 186: The Time of Meeting

There was a gaze watching Balthazar and Knut from afar.

It was a blood bat hiding in the dense branches of a tree.

Whoosh-

A strong sea breeze enveloped the blood bat, but thanks to its firmly fixed claws, it didn't budge an inch.

In fact, its wings were almost entirely atrophied, a special individual that had concentrated all its capabilities on its vision.

No matter how skilled Balthazar and Knut were, it would be difficult for them to notice the gaze of a blood bat created for long-distance surveillance, specialized only in sight, from such a distance.

'……They are waiting for something.'

Skella thought from the depths of her mind, sharing the blood bat's vision.

'I cannot yet know what that is.'

However, considering their position had already been exposed and they were managing to fend off the infiltration of several forces, it was clear that holding out there much longer would be difficult.

'Even so, if they ultimately do not abandon their base.'

They would soon regret their dawdling. Verdzig's sight had already reached them.

'Since you are the only relatives of Lady Lusatia, and the only remaining members of the maternal bloodline of Young Master Allenvert.'

Verdzig would never leave them alone. He would not welcome the repercussions that would arise if Allenvert and they were connected.

Of course, he had no way of knowing that they had already contacted Allenvert and were waiting for a handwritten letter from Lusatia.

'Hmm?'

At that moment, one of the blood bats spotted a young boy stepping out of the Grunewald ducal castle.

'Young Master Allenvert's attendant.'

The gaze of surveillance followed Peter.

Up to this point, the development was exactly as Allenvert had anticipated.

.

.

.

"Peter, it's been a while."

"Brother! Welcome home."

"Big brother!"

"Has everyone been well?"

"It's all thanks to you, what else?"

Peter treated his clan to the food the cook had secretly packed for him, spending a rare and precious time together.

"Ah, this is truly delicious."

Peter's mother exclaimed in admiration at the food, the likes of which she rarely tasted even during the happiest times as a baroness.

"Does it suit your taste?"

"It certainly does."

"Hehe."

Peter felt relieved seeing his mother, who seemed to have almost fully recovered her health, with a much better complexion.

"Brother, how is the young master doing?"

Bridget asked about Allenvert's well-being.

"He is doing well. He is currently busy preparing for a competition against the Young Lady of Valkenhain."

"Ah, I see."

So that's why he hasn't sent a letter to Zizek lately, Bridget thought to herself. Bridget was a bright child.

"More importantly, Bridget, look at this."

"What is it?"

Peter took out a small piece of paper and some silver coins from his pocket.

"The young master gave you this money to buy books for your studies."

"Oh! Really?"

Bridget's eyes sparkled.

"Make sure to buy and read the books written on this note. He promised that if you do, he will definitely bring you in as a worker to the annex."

"Wow……."

Bridget accepted the note with a moved expression.

"As expected, the young master is truly a good person."

"Of course."

Peter replied to his younger sister's words with sincerity.

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.

.

'What is that note?'

Skella, who was watching the scene, wondered.

'Suspicious.'

Perhaps it was a coded message Allenvert was sending to someone.

'There are many suspicious aspects.'

Including those men hiding nearby, as if guarding the clan, though it was unclear from where they came.

'This needs to be investigated.'

Skella thought.

'…….'

But why was it?

As she watched the sight of the close-knit and ordinary clan, her own situation – bound by the shackles of the Bergen and raised by the sword – unexpectedly tugged at a corner of Skella's heart.

'Got them, you bastards.'

I sat on the chimney of a certain building, watching the small, lit room of Peter's clan and the black bat observing it from afar.

"Using a familiar, could it be a mage assigned for surveillance?"

Using birds, bats, rats, etc., as familiars to monitor someone or as messengers was, of course, a specialty of mages.

'But that doesn't necessarily mean a mage is the culprit.'

Among the residents of the night, there were also many demi-humans or non-humans in other words, other races like dwarves or elves.

'Among them, vampires were particularly dangerous.'

Not to mention their physique stronger than humans and their monstrous recovery ability.

Because they also possessed various supernatural powers inherited through their bloodline, they were known as particularly troublesome enemies.

'And they weren't lacking in intelligence like orcs or trolls, so some vampires even created their own martial arts systems.'

Physical abilities and recovery superior to humans, plus supernatural powers and martial arts? It would be stranger if they weren't strong.

'They are natural assassins and spies.'

As far as I know, the status of the vampire aristocracy in the continent's underworld is by no means low.

'By the way, being able to control bats, was there such a type of supernatural power?'

Of course, there was a reason why I suspected vampires so strongly.

'It's not an ordinary familiar.'

I extended a very thin strand of mana thread and scanned the bat. Then, I could sense a very subtle yet dangerous aura from it.

'But there's no need to be too wary.'

That bat didn't notice my presence. It was thanks to the further development of my Whispering Snow in the Night through continuous training, and the added ability of Dark Star.

It was an infiltration skill that could even deceive Harold's senses in broad daylight. If I used it at night, it would be almost invincible. Who could easily find me?

'Anyway, you, I've remembered you.'

I memorized the aura's wavelength and the presence of that bat. It might even be the same kind of creature I slashed and cut down near Zizek's base before.

'I should have checked it out beforehand instead of just hastily leaving back then.'

I clicked my tongue in regret. It was a shame, but there was nothing I could do. It's impossible to make the best choice in every moment.

'By the way, if the owner of that bat is a vampire, who on earth sent this surveillance?'

The most likely suspect is still Verdzig. If so, it means she has assigned a much more capable agent based on her previous failure.

'Of course, it might not be.'

A chilling hypothesis came to mind. Perhaps the owner of that bat could control dozens, hundreds, or even thousands of bats, watching over the entire night of Grunewald – that was the very thought.

'If so, then that person's master would be my father, Duke Georg, or the one at the very top among the godfathers of the underworld.'

However, the most plausible hypothesis is still that this individual is monitoring Peter under Verdzig's orders.

'……In any case, they won't make a move right away.'

Having confirmed the presence of surveillance and drawn their attention, the initial objective had been achieved.

'If that bat is also at Zizek's base, it means our secret has been exposed.'

To confirm that, and to handle my business with Zizek, I turned my steps.

Swish!

I combined the footwork of Scarlet Cloud Ghost Path with the Whispering Snow in the Night, adding the subtlety of light body running between the rooftops as lightly and stealthily as a dandelion seed.

Even if that bat turned its gaze and looked at me—

It wouldn't be able to distinguish the difference between me and the sea breeze that flew in from afar, riding the waves, and split like flowing water upon meeting the buildings.

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.

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"I'm back."

"Welcome back, Boss."

"Oh ho?"

Just by looking at Zizek's triumphant expression as he greeted me, I could tell that the task I had given him had been handled well.

"Judging by your smug look, you must have something to boast about?"

"Hehe, indeed I do."

Zizek grinned.

"We've caught an unexpected big fish."

"Did you meet Kimlet?"

"That's not all."

"Stop showing off and just tell me. What is it?"

"His backer is quite a big shot. A man known as the Merchant of Death—"

"Quite the grand nickname."

"His name is Damien. He's said to be a bastard born from a baronet clan in the northwest of the Litvaleur Kingdom."

……A bastard from a noble clan.

"Things are unusual from the start. He must have lived quite a difficult life?"

Having become a big figure in this underworld, the hardships he faced in his life must have been extraordinary.

"Still, his father seems to have been fairly conscientious. Thanks to the education he received to the extent that he could make a living, he apparently entered the mercenary industry after becoming an adult and rose to prominence."

"Soldiers and bureaucrats, or mercenaries and merchants. Those are the most common paths chosen by the illegitimate children of noble clans."

I nodded.

"However, he seems to have suffered various discriminations and contempt during his upbringing. After desperately accumulating wealth and surviving countless battles, he apparently established his own business here in Grunewald."

"That's impressive. It's remarkable for a mercenary to not squander money recklessly."

I said with my arms crossed.

"So? How much of a big shot is this Damien, and is he a trustworthy fellow?"

"He has a well-established reputation in the smuggling business. He doesn't deal with very dangerous goods, and he's apparently solid because he's very interested in credit and risk management."

It seemed a bit contradictory for someone who was a smuggler, but even in this world, credit is important.

"If he pays well, doesn't lie, and has a wide distribution network, then there's nothing more to ask for."

"Based on his reputation, he's definitely that type."

"But why the nickname 'Merchant of Death'? That's quite grim."

"They say that as much as they strictly uphold their own credit, they show no mercy to those who lie. They don't hesitate to shed blood, so even underworld organizations find them difficult to deal with, and more than anything—"

Zizek said.

"Perhaps because he himself is from a very strong mercenary background, he seems to have a firm grip on businesses like weapon trading and mercenary brokerage."

"Indeed. In that case, he would likely be interested in trading medicinal herbs and spirit medicines as well."

"In my opinion, he is a man with both ability and reliable credit."

"This is promising."

I nodded at Zizek's confident assertion.

"One can never survive alone in this world of night. You must gain trustworthy allies and have a capable backer supporting you."

I praised Zizek.

"Well done. To have established ties with such a big figure."

"Well, I just blabbered as you told me to, Boss."

"Still, it's not an easy task. Could it be that you are more capable than I thought?"

"Hehe. It seems so."

I had felt this when I met the survivors of Eisenach as well, but the tasks I gave this guy often returned with results exceeding expectations.

Zamuel, could it be that this guy's talent is better than yours?'

I muttered inwardly towards my comrade from my past life. If you have a problem with that, show yourself and argue with me.

"Anyway, it's fortunate that we met such a big shot."

"It is fortunate."

Zizek said.

"How about it, would you like to meet him in person?"

"Of course, I have to meet him."

"They said that if it's what we want, time doesn't matter to them."

"Is that so? He must be busy, but he's quite proactive."

I stood up.

"Then let's leave right now."

***

Lusatia Grunewald was looking down at the white stationery, a candlelight illuminating the dark room.

"Allen."

Just uttering the name brought an ache of longing.

"……I too must find courage."

Lusatia let out a soft sigh and read the letter Friederun had delivered.

Her small and frail son had mustered such great courage. Then, of course, she too had to resolve herself to face the hatred and despair that had blackened her heart.

"Hoo."

Yet, who knew starting the first sentence would be this difficult? She had already written and erased the first sentence several times, agonizing over how to begin the personal letter to be delivered to her kin.

……However, on the day this letter was completed, Lusatia would meet her son in person and hand him this letter.

The time of fate was finally approaching.

[Translator - Pot ]

[Proofreader - Kawaii ]