Chapter 74

Even when Grondil’s interest shifted from Yuneria to Lino, Enoch fully expected that interest to cool rapidly. In truth, Yuneria hadn’t even been an interest; he was merely a bothersome chore that would become an even bigger headache if ignored.

Since childhood, whenever Grondil found something intriguing, he wouldn’t be satisfied until he had thoroughly played with it in his own hands, and the time it took for that satisfaction to wane was always incredibly short. His interest was almost exclusively limited to objects, and even when directed at living creatures, it never extended beyond plants and animals. Meaning, Lino was the very first human Grondil had ever shown an interest in.

The pragmatic Enoch didn’t anticipate anything extraordinary happening just because Grondil showed interest in a human for the first time.

Lino Cliff was still human, meaning that after being toyed with a few times, his true depths and limits would inevitably be exposed. The depths of humanity were generally messy and ugly, and once Grondil saw all of it, his interest would plummet.

Enoch understood his master’s capricious nature perfectly. Even if Lino Cliff’s true identity was a Letia from legend, and even if he was carrying Grondil’s child, Enoch remained steadfast in his belief that—aside from a few minor exceptions—this was a fleeting fascination.

He will erase Lino’s memories and send him out of Isberg soon enough. Even if he is a Letia, to Grondil, he will just be a man with a peculiar trait allowing for pregnancy.

Therefore, Enoch was already preparing arrangements for Lino to reside securely within Isberg even after Grondil’s interest faded. A Letia was the living, breathing grace of God—how could they possibly banish him outside Isberg’s borders?

‘I thought so, but… it seems I must completely overhaul my plans.’

Enoch was absolutely certain that, except for matters concerning Lino’s sex life, he understood Lino far better than Grondil did. It was only natural; long before Grondil showed any genuine interest, Enoch was the one meticulously observing and recording Lino’s daily routine without missing a single detail.

He appeared lazy but was surprisingly diligent; he seemed mindlessly optimistic but possessed a serious core, highly skilled at concealing his true thoughts. In situations that warranted explosive anger, he didn’t merely suppress it—he knew how to brush it off with a casual laugh. Despising anything bothersome, he actively avoided potential conflicts, yet he was overflowing with so much empathy and a sense of justice that if he witnessed the weak being treated unfairly, he would throw himself into the fray without a second thought.

Thinking about it… Enoch had never encountered someone with such a contradictory personality.

‘That must be why His Highness cannot take his eyes off him.’

With a light chuckle, Enoch rose from his seat. Perhaps in the past it was true, but now, his master observed and understood Lino Cliff far more intimately and meticulously than Enoch ever could. Grondil might have already seen the very bottom of Lino Cliff’s soul. Or perhaps, he didn’t care if he knew it or not. That was exactly why he cherished and protected him so fiercely.

Grondil was currently pouring his heart and soul into rooting the very existence of Lino firmly into his own life. To ensure a sapling takes root in solid ground without swaying against harsh winds and waves, one must tend to it meticulously, starting from the most trivial details.

Likely remaining somewhat aware but mostly oblivious to this profound manipulation, Lino would eventually adopt Isberg as his eternal sanctuary.

Walking leisurely toward Grondil’s bedroom, Enoch reminisced about the Lino Cliff he remembered.

Though most of his observations took place while they resided in Ebek, the capital of the Zetina Kingdom, it had been more than enough time to grasp Lino Cliff’s fundamental nature.

In the beginning, Enoch occasionally sent Lino out on errands outside the estate and tailed him. During the early days when Grondil was entirely focused on Yuneria, Enoch found himself far more intrigued by Lino, who lived quietly, almost as if he didn’t exist. Regardless of which one was the true Letia, it was Enoch’s duty to thoroughly understand the character of the two men residing by his master’s side.

Comparing the frequency of his outings to the frequency of incidents occurring, Enoch noted an incredibly high probability of Lino getting involved in altercations. Even if Lino didn’t want to, and even if Lino didn’t instigate the trouble himself, the situations inevitably spiraled in that direction. Therefore, from Enoch’s perspective—whose primary role was to assist Grondil as quietly as possible—it was actually more helpful to keep Lino confined indoors. Nevertheless, he had to keep sending Lino outside the estate to verify his true character. For the sake of his master, Grondil.

At first, Enoch assumed that because Lino looked as sweet as honey, as soft as freshly baked bread, and possessed an almost naive demeanor, people with foul tempers simply looked down on him and picked fights. From a distance, that was exactly how it appeared. However, upon closer observation, Enoch frequently caught incredibly subtle, ambiguous moments where Lino’s words or actions would bizarrely provoke the other party.

The altercations Lino found himself in generally fell into three categories: people approaching him out of romantic or sexual attraction; people who were disgusted by the attention the first group showed Lino; and those who, of all places, happened to commit crimes right in front of Lino. Those were the three types.

Since simply standing still invited unwanted advances and provoked fights, Enoch ultimately stopped sending him on errands. He decided it was better to keep him inside the estate and observe him there. Besides, he had already somewhat grasped Lino’s disposition.

Following that brief period of peace came the loud disruptions caused by Yuneria, culminating in the astonishing news that Lino had conceived his master’s child. It felt like they had weathered a frantic, breathless storm.

And just before Lino and Grondil departed together for Isberg, Enoch was granted the opportunity to delve even deeper into the person known as Lino Cliff.

It was during the period when the Order of St. Margia swarmed the capital of Ebek en masse, using Lino Cliff’s farewell party as an excuse for sightseeing.

“Hey! Two more dark beers over here!”

“No, make it five. Five.”

“Seven more!”

It had already been a week since men built like mountains had practically requisitioned the most popular club in the capital. As if desperate to prove they were country bumpkins fresh out of the remote mountains, they ordered nothing but dark beer, driving the club owner to the brink of insanity. They didn’t even order anything else—just dark beer. Only dark beer. Order something else, for God’s sake.

“When are those obnoxious bastards going back home?”

Contrary to the owner’s despairing groans, the other clubgoers harbored bizarre expectations upon seeing these muscular, sweat-drenched men—a sight rarely seen in the capital. The Order of St. Margia had practically claimed the club as their own, but the ones actually driving up the sales were the men and women who flocked there specifically to ogle the knights.

While these burly country bumpkins were unknowingly radiating unexpected charm, Lino was trapped at a corner table, completely unable to handle the awkward atmosphere. They had allegedly gathered for his farewell party, yet he didn’t recognize most of the faces, and even among those he did, he had never spoken a word to them.

‘Ah, I’m so bored.’

Sitting in the corner, Lino leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. The strobe lights were blinding. If he could, he would have plugged his ears, too. The music was so deafening that conversing with the person right next to him was impossible. Of course, he had absolutely no desire to converse anyway. The heavy bass of the music sent a thump-thump reverberating from all sides, violently shaking Lino’s body.

‘What on earth is the Knight Commander thinking, continuously sending knights to the capital?’

Wasn’t he famous for being strict? Or was this a case of ‘when you let them loose, really let them loose’… something like that? It was never like this when I was in the order. Not that there was anywhere to go even if they let us loose.

Lino thought back to the Knight Commander he had observed during his time in the Order of St. Margia, then quickly shook his head. It didn’t matter; the man had nothing to do with him anymore. It wasn’t as if he felt any particular affection for him. Nor did he harbor any lingering attachments to knightly life. He had only joined the Order of St. Margia to escape Baron Haklan’s pursuit in the first place.

Now, the Haklan Baron family was gone. The surname Haklan remained, but they were no longer nobles. It wasn’t simply that they lacked the funds to maintain a noble lifestyle; their finances had plummeted into the absolute abyss of negative debt. Lino was well aware that the Baron’s son, Iscazel Noth Haklan, had taken out an astronomical loan from the Baron Merchant Guild. What he learned later was that, on top of the loan, Iscazel had exploited Baron Haklan’s connections to amass massive investments. If they couldn’t even pay the interest on the loan, how could they possibly return the investment funds?

He heard they had sold off the Baron’s research papers, generations of antique books, the estate itself, and every piece of furniture inside, yet they still hadn’t managed to repay even a third of the principal.

Lino recalled the Baroness, who always harbored a quiet spending habit, and Iscazel Noth Haklan, who squandered money openly. Thinking back, the Baron himself was actually quite frugal. The problem was that he was so absorbed in his field of study that he completely disregarded all moral boundaries.

‘As long as they don’t drop dead somewhere, I suppose it doesn’t matter.’

Lino thought of the bankbook Grondil had given him.

—‘Lino, this is your bankbook.’

Having lived life on the run, Lino had never been able to open a bank account under his own name. Seeing a bankbook with his name printed on it, he stared at it uncomprehendingly for a long time. He had absolutely no memory of going to a bank to open it.