Chapter 10

***

Snap. 

His eyes flew open. An elegant ceiling filled his vision. Turning his head, he saw the lamp on the nightstand casting a soft, ambient glow across the bedroom.

Blink, blink. After blinking several times, a small sigh escaped Lino’s lips. Ah—

I’m not in the dorms.

He belatedly remembered he was in Ebek, the capital of the Zetina Kingdom. Checking the clock, he saw it was 5:00 AM. Realizing it was far too early to get up, Lino closed his eyes again. However, the sudden, sharp awakening—which felt exactly like having a bucket of ice water dumped over his head—showed absolutely zero signs of subsiding.

After tossing and turning for roughly thirty minutes, his eyelids finally began to feel heavy again. This lifestyle had been ongoing for an entire month. The only thing that had changed was the weather, which had grown significantly hotter. Everything else remained a tediously identical routine.

I suppose the habits ingrained from years at the order won’t fade after just a month, Lino thought, finally succumbing to the approaching wave of sleep.

Waking up much later, Lino took a leisurely shower before stopping by the kitchen to grab an apple. He frequently substituted breakfast with whatever fresh fruit had been delivered that day.

Heading toward Enoch’s office on the second floor, Lino ran into the aide just as he was stepping out.

“Today, His Highness has gone out with Sir Disson to explore the culinary culture of Ebek.”

As always, Enoch stated their destination with a perfectly refined tone. Looks like they’re doing a food tour this week. Yesterday, it was a newly opened ice cream parlor; the day before that, a fruit dessert café; the day before that, a traditional Zetina restaurant. Last week, they had relentlessly swept through every luxury boutique in Ebek, and the week before that—

“Then I shall remain in the study until His Highness returns.”

Slicing cleanly through his mental recounting of the Duke’s itinerary, Lino informed Enoch of his plans. Enoch raised a single eyebrow in mild surprise.

“Will you not be visiting the training grounds today?”

“I have many books I wish to read today. And I have one I didn’t finish yesterday.”

In truth, his real reason was simply that it was hotter today than yesterday, and he absolutely loathed sweating in the heat. But fearing he might look like a lazy, incompetent knight if he admitted that, he used the books as a convenient shield. Besides, he actually did plan to finish yesterday’s book. The Duke’s study was overflowing with rare volumes he had never seen before, prompting him to gradually shave time off his physical training to maximize his hours in the library.

Most knights vastly preferred moving their bodies outside over sitting quietly and reading. While exceptions existed, this was the overwhelming norm.

“You must be exceedingly fond of books.”

“Haha, well, not exceedingly… but if they’re there, I tend to read them.”

“I see. Hmm, shall I have lunch brought to the study?”

“No, that won’t be necessary. I’ll handle it myself. There’s no need for you to inconvenience yourself by coming all the way to the study just for me.”

Lino smoothly rejected Enoch’s offer. Unlike the Duke, who had thoroughly ignored him for a solid month, Enoch saw Lino frequently and often initiated rather friendly conversation.

And Lino found this extremely burdensome.

It’s blatantly obvious every conversation we have gets reported back to the Duke. There’s absolutely zero reason to get needlessly close to him.

Lino still had no clue why Duke Grondil had traveled to a tiny, borderland country, but the only subordinate he had brought along was his aide, Enoch. This meant Enoch was the sole individual evaluating Lino, who remained at the estate instead of escorting the Duke. If he crossed the line and became overly friendly, a single mistake could instantly demolish the precarious safety he had built. Thus, it was crucial to maintain a polite, appropriate distance, ensuring he never crossed any boundaries.

And the threshold of that boundary was determined entirely by Lino, as the other party would remain completely unaware that Lino was drawing a line in the first place.

“Understood.”

Enoch nodded without pushing the issue. As Enoch took a step back, Lino offered a small, silent smile instead of verbal thanks. He genuinely appreciated this trait in Enoch. There were far too many people who misinterpreted a polite refusal as mere modesty and aggressively forced their offers anyway.

This was especially true in Lino’s case.

Having grown accustomed to repeating a cycle of offer and refusal at least three or four times before someone finally accepted his “no,” Lino found interacting with Enoch incredibly refreshing.

Consequently, he found his guard dropping several times without realizing it. Even right now. Pressing his fingers firmly against the corners of his mouth to erase his smile, Lino turned away, stating he would head to the study.

Dangerous. Until I figure out exactly what scheme they have to leave only me and Yuneria at the estate, I can never let my guard down. Of course, even if he did figure it out, dropping his guard was still forbidden.

Rolling his stiff shoulders in slow circles, Lino headed down the corridor toward the second-floor study. Having only eaten a single apple for breakfast, he was feeling a bit peckish, but trekking all the way down to the first-floor kitchen to grab something felt like a massive chore. I always assumed a huge mansion would be unconditionally amazing, but this aspect is incredibly inconvenient. At the Haklan estate, meals were delivered directly to his room, and at the Order of St. Margia, the dorms and dining hall were right next to each other. Because everyone rushed to eat together in a chaotic mob, there wasn’t even time to feel annoyed by the process.

I guess I’ve lived too comfortably this past month… My laziness is multiplying exponentially.

Can’t I just ask to use the study as my bedroom? Lino muttered the impossible wish under his breath as he quickened his pace. His steps were so incredibly light that they produced almost zero sound against the corridor floor.

Hmm?

Suddenly, he felt a distinct gaze land squarely on his back. At the Order of St. Margia, Lino had experienced being intensely stared at to the point of absolute nausea. I have one head, one torso, four limbs, and the exact same number of eyes, nose, and mouth in the exact same positions as everyone else. I have no idea what they find so fascinating, he used to grumble internally while aggressively ignoring them.

Naturally, a Duke’s estate would employ a massive staff—it would be impossible to maintain such a colossal structure and its expansive front and back gardens otherwise—so he fully expected to receive the same kind of stares he had endured at the order.

What was unexpected, however, was how rarely he actually saw any servants. This was partly because the estate operated on an absolute skeleton crew, and partly because that minimal staff was heavily concentrated in the gardens and the kitchen.

Then who the hell cleans this massive mansion? It doesn’t seem like fifteen people could possibly handle it. This mystery was quickly solved when he noticed the mana stones embedded throughout the estate.

Simultaneously, his sheer bewilderment regarding Duke Grondil’s wealth skyrocketed. Weighing the cost of human labor for cleaning against the astronomical price of mana stones, the mana stones were a colossally massive financial loss.

He had heard of malicious corporations refusing to install air conditioning in their factories during midsummer because calling ambulances for heatstroke victims was mathematically cheaper. Compared to those corporations, this estate was a literal paradise. Come to think of it, while the outside temperature was sweltering, the interior maintained a perfectly optimal temperature and humidity level. This, too, was undoubtedly regulated by mana stones.

Regardless, Lino ignored the gaze drilling into his back and continued toward the study. It wasn’t a particularly malicious stare. The only reason he was even mildly curious about the observer was because he had rarely felt anyone’s eyes on him during his month at the estate. He didn’t turn around simply because he had absolutely no reason to confirm their identity.

I’d rather spend the time it takes to turn around walking faster so I can read even one more line of a book.

The Duke’s study was on a scale more accurately described as a library. While the rest of the mansion boasted a bright, brilliantly elegant aesthetic—likely reflecting someone’s specific taste—the study was dark, cozy, and profoundly intimate.

Being dark didn’t mean it was a terrible environment for reading. The towering bookshelves, custom-built to match the exceptionally high ceilings, were entirely constructed from Black Wood, a luxury specialty of the Cartia Empire. From a distance, the shelves appeared pitch black, but upon closer inspection, one could see chaotic, mesmerizingly intricate lines dancing across the deep, rich wood grain.

This captivating atmosphere was a major reason why Lino spent almost all his non-training and non-sleeping hours entirely inside the study. And it wasn’t just the atmosphere; nestled in a corner of the library was a dedicated lounge area equipped with a massive mattress, thin blankets, and numerous plush cushions, designed specifically for reclining comfortably while reading.

Initially, Lino had simply read at the desk and returned to his room. However, as the hours he spent in the study lengthened, his eyes naturally gravitated toward the lounge area.

Up until yesterday, Lino had miraculously resisted the siren call of the mattress. Of course, he had also meticulously investigated whether anyone else utilized the study besides him. He had relentlessly checked for any signs of the lounge area being used in the mornings or evenings.

And now, as the month-mark passed, he reached a firm conclusion: he was the sole occupant of this library. While he couldn’t be one hundred percent certain, he knew that at least during the hours he occupied the space, absolutely no one ever entered. From 1:00 PM to 6:00 PM, not even a single servant passed through the corridor outside the study doors.

“Shall I finally read in total comfort starting today?”

Arms loaded with the book he hadn’t finished yesterday and the new ones he planned to start today, Lino practically skipped toward the lounge area. Kicking off his slippers and socks, he launched himself onto the highly resilient mattress and flopped onto his stomach. The chairs and sofas in the designated reading nook were incredibly plush, but nothing beat a high-quality mattress. Because he could lie completely flat.

Wedgeing a cushion firmly under his chest, he cracked open his book. Sunlight filtered through the windows lining the walls, but because they were intentionally narrowed and angled to prevent UV damage to the books, the natural light wasn’t entirely sufficient for reading.

However, the reason Lino could focus on his reading without straining his eyes was entirely due to the mana stones embedded in the high ceiling. They emitted a soft, ambient glow so incredibly natural it was practically indistinguishable from actual sunlight, perfectly illuminating the interior.

“Let’s see, where did I leave off yesterday?”

If it were up to him, he would stay glued to this mattress regardless of whether the Duke returned at 6:00 PM or not. The Duke consistently ignored him even when he dutifully showed up for the evening greeting, but Lino still couldn’t afford to skip it. After all, didn’t the saying go that a hundred efforts could be instantly annihilated by a single mistake?

If he missed even one day, the Duke would undoubtedly think, Who the hell does this bastard think he is, not even showing his face morning or night?

Or perhaps the Duke genuinely wouldn’t care at all. The real problem was Yuneria. From the very first day they arrived at the estate, Yuneria had treated Lino as if they were locked in a bitter, multi-generational blood feud.

Laughing at Yuneria’s voice cracking was a total, uncontrollable reflex, but since it was still incredibly rude, Lino had naturally apologized. Deciding it was better to extinguish the fire before it spread, Lino had quickly admitted his fault, bowed respectfully, and begged for forgiveness.

However, for Yuneria—the second son of a Marquis in the Zetina Kingdom—Lino’s sincere, polite apology triggered a catastrophic counter-reaction. Having been bathed in unconditional love and intense overprotection since birth, Yuneria possessed an elitist superiority complex that was significantly thicker and more impenetrable than that of average nobles. That was the core issue.

How dare a filthy commoner mimic the manners of the nobility to beg for my forgiveness!

That profound outrage birthed an obsessive, unyielding fury directed entirely at Lino. Because screaming and throwing violent tantrums risked reaching the Duke’s ears via Enoch or the staff, Yuneria resorted to petty, relentless, yet highly creative methods to torment him.

Therefore, giving him an excuse to attack by skipping the evening greeting is a terrible idea.

To secure a massive payout of tips and gifts, Lino needed to maintain a favorable impression not just with the Duke and Enoch, but with Yuneria as well. Especially considering the Duke had kept Yuneria practically glued to his hip for an entire month.

Even goldfish poop doesn’t stick together that tightly.

Praying desperately that he wouldn’t have to deal with any more exhausting drama, Lino finally began reading where he’d left off yesterday.

Yuneria’s methods of torment were petty, cheap, and surprisingly meticulous. In truth, if Lino had been the type to suffer emotional damage from vicious insults or blatant degradation, Yuneria would have simply crushed him using the massive disparity in their social status, wealth, lineage, and career—just as he had on the very first day.

However, Lino had grown up surrounded by the violent, hardened older boys at the orphanage; he had endured his older adoptive brother Iscazel’s relentless, screeching tirades about “filthy commoners” and “worthless orphans” until his eardrums practically bled at the Haklan estate; and after running away, he had survived by rolling through the slums for years, where he had been heavily exposed to every imaginable strain of unimaginably vile, depraved profanity and graphic sexual harassment.

Consequently, Lino was absolutely not the type of person to suffer even a single point of emotional damage from a noble’s carefully calculated insults—where even the exact angle of a scowling eyebrow, the precise speed of a rage-induced tremble, and whether the thumb was tucked inside or outside a clenched fist were meticulously choreographed for maximum degradation.

No matter how deeply Lino bowed or how perfectly he recited, I am terribly sorry. I have committed a grave offense. I swear I will never repeat such an egregious mistake, Yuneria’s shattered ego and burning fury refused to be easily extinguished. Because what Yuneria truly desired was to see Lino’s face contorted in profound, humiliating devastation.

Since psychological warfare proved utterly ineffective, Yuneria pivoted to physical and material torment.

The harassment began with spoiled ingredients being secretly slipped into Lino’s meals. The kitchen, which employed the largest staff in the mansion, was a mix of personnel brought over from the Empire with the Duke and locals personally interviewed and hired by Enoch in Zetina. Naturally, not a single Zetina citizen dared to refuse a “minor” favor requested by Yuneria, a massive celebrity and the absolute pride of their kingdom.

It started with a severe bout of food poisoning from rotten food, escalating to thumbtacks hidden in his shoes, the hot water being intentionally shut off exclusively for Lino’s bathroom, the staff refusing to collect his dirty dishes when serving meals in his room, and the deliberate omission of the estate-provided escort uniforms and essential daily supplies… It was an endless, suffocating barrage of petty, highly annoying inconveniences.

Yuneria desperately wanted to make Lino’s daily life an absolute, miserable hell. Unfortunately for Yuneria, because Lino had lived a remarkably rough life—surviving the orphanage, enduring the Haklan captivity, navigating the violent slums, and surviving the brutal asceticism of the Order of St. Margia—he almost never displayed the flustered, distressed, or agonizing reactions Yuneria craved.

The first few times, Lino had unknowingly eaten the tainted food and suffered severe stomach cramps. However, while Lino was locked in the bathroom clutching his agonizing stomach, Yuneria was out touring the capital with the Duke, entirely missing the physical manifestation of Lino’s suffering. Furthermore, since Lino obviously used his private bathroom alone, the bribed staff could only report back to Yuneria that Lino looked slightly pale. The thumbtacks were discovered in his boots and the pockets of his freshly laundered clothes. However, the exact second Lino realized someone was actively tampering with his food with malicious intent, he began meticulously inspecting every single item he used, rendering the thumbtack traps entirely useless.

A bathroom providing only freezing cold water posed zero threat to Lino, who had survived multiple brutal winters in the slums of the Hestin Kingdom—a country significantly colder than Zetina—wearing only a single set of threadbare clothes. Moreover, since it was currently the peak of summer, an ice-cold shower was the absolute perfect remedy for washing away the sweat from the training grounds, meaning it wasn’t even mildly uncomfortable.

If they didn’t provide utensils with his meals, he ate with his hands. If they served piping hot food, he marched out to the garden, snapped a twig off a tree, roughly whittled it down, and used it as a skewer. Soups could simply be picked up and drank directly from the bowl.

As for the estate-provided escort uniforms and clothing, since Lino never actually accompanied the Duke anywhere, not having them didn’t matter in the slightest. He was strictly required to wear a formal uniform when greeting the Duke in the mornings and evenings, but because the epaulets, shoulder cords, and the obscenely expensive buttons—crafted from solid gold and precious gems, making them literal works of art—kept “mysteriously disappearing,” Lino had no choice but to revert to wearing his old Order of St. Margia uniform. While it was undeniably worn and faded, the St. Margia uniform was vastly superior to the Duke’s provided uniform when it came to hiding the specific physical traits Lino desperately wanted to conceal from the world.

The escort uniform provided by the Duke was, for lack of a better phrase… obnoxiously focused on aesthetics over practical utility, making it incredibly uncomfortable for Lino to wear. For instance, the tailoring aggressively accentuated the chest and waist muscles, while the trousers were cut so tightly they prominently highlighted the long, lean lines of the thighs.

Honestly… it did look incredibly gorgeous when Yuneria wore it.

Yuneria hadn’t merely inherited the facial features of his mother, the greatest beauty on the Terne Continent. His physique was equally slender, fluid, and graceful. It would be no exaggeration to say Yuneria had inherited almost zero masculine traits from his father.

His shoulders were somewhat narrow, and his waist was heavily cinched. While his hips weren’t massive, the line tracing from his glutes down his thighs formed a soft, gentle curve that was exceptionally rare in a man.

Furthermore, because he wore the uniform flawlessly tailored to his exact measurements without a single millimeter of slack, even the slightest movement vividly exposed the raw curves of his body. By definition, a uniform should project an aura of stoic asceticism. Yet, the uniform provided by the Duke managed to create the illusion of being completely naked despite covering the body from head to toe.

Consequently, Lino was deeply, profoundly grateful whenever his assigned uniform was torn, shredded, or stripped of its accessories. However, he didn’t just blindly refuse to wear it. Knowing that doing so would immediately earn him Enoch’s wrath—and that anything Enoch knew would reach the Duke’s ears in seconds—Lino thoroughly explained the deteriorated state of the uniform. To prevent Yuneria from striking first and twisting the narrative, Lino had preemptively reported the “accidental damage” the very first day it happened.

Fortunately, Enoch had sighed, remarking that the Duke’s tastes were somewhat impractical, and granted Lino permission to wear comfortable clothes since the tight uniform was highly inconvenient for lounging indoors. Lino had no idea how Enoch relayed this to the Duke, but he was never reprimanded for not wearing the uniform during the evening greetings.

Regardless, thanks to Enoch, Lino was currently able to roll around on the study mattress wearing a loose black tracksuit. Realizing Lino was deeply uncomfortable in tight-fitting clothes, Enoch had specifically prepared this alternative attire. The tracksuit, deliberately ordered two sizes larger than Lino’s actual measurements, perfectly and entirely concealed his physique.

Basking in the quiet, perfectly cozy atmosphere, the soft lighting, and the flawlessly regulated air conditioning, Lino flipped the page of his book with a satisfying shhhk. Lying on his stomach, he bent his knees, idly swinging his lower legs up and down. The book he’d been reading since yesterday was now just a few pages from the end. How is this going to conclude? Completely absorbed in the narrative, the swinging motion of his legs gradually slowed to a halt.

The book hurtling toward its finale was a collection of folklore and oral traditions. It wasn’t the kind of literature a fully grown adult would typically find enthralling, but Lino was entirely captivated because these specific tales originated from Isberg.

The Beast Beloved by the Sun God, Aquila. The folklore never explicitly named the exact species of the beast.

What exactly does a beast beloved by God look like?

The text didn’t contain a single line describing the beast’s physical appearance. It merely repeated, over and over, that the beast was beautiful, beautiful, and absolutely beautiful. Yet, from those sparse words alone, Lino’s imagination naturally conjured a majestic creature draped in a thick, luxurious pelt that resembled a blinding blizzard.

It was a direct influence of the “Imaginary Illustration of Isberg” he had stared at relentlessly as a child in the Haklan estate. Endless plains buried under pristine snow, jagged white mountain ranges piercing the sky, and a savage, unrelenting blizzard.

A beast capable of standing proudly on all fours amidst such a ferocious environment, entirely unshakeable, could only be a creature that mirrored the blizzard itself.

Lino selfishly inserted his self-designed beast into his mental image of Isberg. Ugh… this is so amazing it’s making me shiver. Fittingly, the final tale was set against the backdrop of a snow-swept plain, making the visualization effortless.

The ultimate fate of the beast—who had defied divine providence by choosing a human as its mate rather than another beast—was both tragic and breathtakingly beautiful, ultimately culminating in a happy ending.

“Surprisingly, Isberg might actually be an incredibly optimistic country…”

Turning the final page, Lino muttered to himself as he envisioned the beast’s human mate, who had ultimately secured God’s blessing. They had suffered immensely for defying God’s will, but seeing as it ended happily, it was undeniably an optimistic tale.

It wasn’t just the final story; every single legend in the book followed the exact same pattern. A beast who constantly shattered the absolute laws established by God, and a benevolent, endlessly merciful God who ultimately embraced the beast’s flaws and granted forgiveness because of His profound love for the creature.

He couldn’t tell if the book was attempting to praise the boundless mercy of God, or simply bragging that the beasts of Isberg were so deeply beloved by God that they could commit any atrocity and still be forgiven.

It was a bit absurd, but…

I think I might be a little jealous.

To be forgiven and loved unconditionally, no matter what horrific sins you committed. How could he not be desperately envious of that? Lino thought of his parents, who hadn’t left even a microscopic speck of a trace in his memory. What terrible circumstances forced them to throw me away? Though, realistically, “throwing him away” was far too gentle a term; their clear intent was for him to die.

Dropping his arm with a heavy sigh, Lino reached toward the towering stack of books beside him to select his next read.

No matter how you look at it, abandoning a newborn baby wrapped in nothing but a ragged cloth in the dead of night, in the freezing winter of a northern country, is a direct order to die.

You survived well, myself.

Rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling, Lino gently patted the space between his chest and his stomach. It was a physical gesture of self-praise.

Pat, pat. 

The soft sound echoed quietly in the massive, silent study. Checking the time, he saw it was 1:30 PM. He was a bit hungry, but the thought of trekking down to the first-floor kitchen was exhausting. Because his mind kept violently dragging up old memories today, his mood had completely plummeted. Consequently, his body felt heavy, lethargic, and overwhelmingly sleepy.

This is a literal paradise. Except for being slightly hungry.

Lino slowly lowered his patting hand and began lightly rubbing his stomach. Even through the thick fabric of the tracksuit, he could feel the rigid definition of his abdominal muscles. It was the physical manifestation of years of forced, brutal physical conditioning and a strictly regimented lifestyle at the Order of St. Margia. He had absolutely hated doing it at the time, but whenever he felt the tangible results like this, a proud, contented smile naturally spread across his face.

However, the proud smile quickly vanished, replaced by a deep, heavy sigh and a profoundly miserable expression.

To reach this age and have absolutely nothing to my name except a muscular body. It’s pathetic. Truly pathetic.

Still, since my body is sturdy, at least I won’t starve to death begging on the streets. Me being this pathetic is one hundred percent Baron Haklan’s fault.

Lino, whose face had been soft with sleepiness just moments prior, aggressively ground his teeth together with a harsh grrrk.