Chapter 541: Death of the Duke

The ball went on late, but Leech took little interest. Afterward, he only reluctantly danced one more time. He recalled his partner was a noble from East Port, one of Red Rose’s companions.

They exchanged a few pleasantries.

Back in his room, the maid who had led him there hesitated, looking as if she wanted to say something.

“My lord…”

Leech recognized her. She was Charming’s personal maid.

“Please bring a basin of water,” Leech said. “I’d like to wash my face.”

‘A bath would be even better,’ he thought. But considering the entire castle was filled with nobles attending the ball, Leech suppressed the tempting idea.

“Yes!”

The maid left quickly. A short while later, she returned carrying a basin of water.

She placed the steaming basin on the table, rolled up her sleeves, and picked up a cotton cloth. She soaked it, wrung it dry, and walked over to Leech.

Gazing at his handsome profile, her cheeks flushed a faint red.

Seeing the maid about to wipe his face, Leech preemptively reached out and took the cloth from her. “Thank you, but I can do it myself.”

He quickly wiped his face. The cool water washed away the lingering scent of wine and cleared his slightly fuzzy head.

After wiping his neck and arms, Leech handed the cloth back to the maid. “Thank you.”

He looked at the maid, who was standing to one side with no sign of leaving. It suddenly occurred to him that he didn’t know the following day’s schedule. “Right, are there any arrangements for tomorrow?”

‘If there’s nothing scheduled, I can head back to Porcupine Territory tomorrow.’

The maid nodded obediently. “Yes, our Lord is organizing a martial tournament in the arena tomorrow.”

Leech frowned slightly. He had no interest in deathmatches involving beheadings and disembowelments, which he found to be nothing more than the meaningless, frenzied, and bloodthirsty spectacle of primitives.

‘Whatever. It’s just a show.’

He sat on the bed. “Alright, I’ll be there tomorrow,” he told the maid. “I’m going to rest now.”

Blushing, the maid moved closer to Leech. “Let me help you with your clothes.”

“Perhaps you could send for a manservant,” Leech said, stopping her quickly.

‘Besides, you’re supposed to be helping *me* with my clothes. Why are your hands undoing the buttons on your own?’

“It’s cold. I can warm your bed for you.”

“I appreciate the offer, but please get out.” Leech’s face fell. ‘Do people think I’m a pushover just because I smile a lot?’

Inside the room with its tightly shut windows, the candle flame flickered as if hit by a targeted blast of wind, and the light suddenly dimmed.

The blush on the maid’s face vanished instantly, her face turning deathly pale with fright. She stammered and backed away. “Y-Yes, my lord. I’ll leave immediately.”

“And the basin.”

“Yes.”

The maid snatched up the basin and scurried out, pulling the door shut behind her.

Leech took off his shoes and lay on the bed. ‘In the dead of winter, a foot soak would be heavenly,’ he mused.

There were plenty of maids who tried to sleep their way to the top, but Leech never gave them the slightest chance.

He closed his eyes and resumed his Meditation.

His practice of gradually replacing sleep with Meditation was starting to show results. Coupled with the improved bloodline aptitude he’d gained from Black Dragon Du Ao, he could, in theory, stop sleeping altogether if he forced himself to adapt.

His body wouldn’t get tired, nor would his mind, but Leech saw no reason to torture himself like that. He much preferred a comfortable night’s sleep.

‘Even Giant Dragons enjoy sleeping, don’t they? If a man was deprived of even the pleasure of sleeping in, what a miserable life that would be.’

One person lay in bed, meditating, before slowly drifting off to sleep.

Another sat in her room, quietly waiting for a visitor she knew was unlikely to arrive.

Then there was a certain unnamed Baron, pacing the castle corridors, wanting to exercise his husbandly rights ahead of schedule but torn over whether he should actually go through with it.

Of course, many more were hard at work, tilling the fields.

Those ladies—who normally disdained answering foolish questions, who refused to respond to boring inquiries, who wished only to maintain their characteristically noble aloofness—had all gone mad and fallen in love with giving answers. They had become incredibly tolerant, endlessly moaning, “Mmm, mmmph~ mmm~.”

…

「That night in East Port.」

The Duke of Radiant Sun’s condition suddenly worsened. A restless anxiety fell over the entire castle, and no one dared to sleep.

Red Rose, wrapped in a fur greatcoat, sat in a chair, waiting anxiously.

“Sidor!” Seeing her brother approach, Red Rose stood up nervously. “Pine is already inside.”

“Yes. It’s not a place for you,” Sidor Sea Water nodded, speaking gravely. “Don’t worry. Father will be fine!”

Without another word to Red Rose, he turned to the people hurrying behind him. “Alchemists, scholars, please follow me.”

They pushed open the door and entered the Duke’s room.

The gravely ill Duke of Radiant Sun was wracked with irregular, intermittent convulsions, and he was foaming at the mouth.

The ‘Golden Stallion,’ Pine, was hunched over the edge of the bed, watching his father with a mixture of fear and concern.

“Quick, save my father!” Pine leaped to his feet as they entered.

Not daring to delay, the men gathered around the bed and applied all their skills to treat him.

“I think we should bleed him! It must be poisoned blood attacking his heart. Bloodletting will draw the affliction out.”

“He’ll die of blood loss!”

The men argued amongst themselves, but they weren’t fools. The pitiful, gravely ill old man on the bed was the pinnacle of power in the entire East Gorge. If they failed to cure him, their own deaths were certain.

So while they argued, trying to impress upon the Golden Stallion their own importance while simultaneously shifting any potential blame, their hands never stopped administering first aid. They continually worked to ease the Duke’s breathing and restrain his violent convulsions.

“Quick, give him something to bite down on! We’ll be in real trouble if he bites his tongue off!”

“There’s nothing.”

“He can bite my arm!” one Alchemist declared. Steeling himself, he rolled up his sleeve and thrust his arm forward while the others struggled to pry open the Duke’s jaws.

CRACK!

“AAAAHHH!!” A pained shriek echoed through the room. In his frenzy, the Duke was nothing like a sick old man. He bit down with vicious force, nearly tearing a chunk of flesh from the Alchemist’s arm.

Sidor Sea Water walked over to his brother and comforted him in a low voice. “Don’t worry, Pine. Father will be okay.”

He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but he thought he saw a black speck dart across the whites of Pine’s dazed eyes before vanishing. It was as if a strange insect was hidden within his eye.

“Pine, are you alright?” Sidor shook him gently.

“I’m fine,” the Golden Stallion shook his head. “I was just thinking… about what to do from now on.”

“From now on?” Sidor Sea Water was puzzled.

“Sidor, you’re my brother,” the Golden Stallion said suddenly. “You should know, our father has suffered too much because of this illness.”

“Yes.” Sidor Sea Water nodded. The Golden Stallion’s behavior had been exemplary lately; he often stayed by their father’s side, and he had been the first to discover the turn for the worse today.

Many nobles believed the Golden Stallion had finally seen the error of his ways, believing that people only truly mature after experiencing great hardship.

“I want to stop his suffering.”

Sidor was shocked. “What?!”

He thought he must have misheard. “You can’t be thinking of…?”

Meanwhile, Leech, who had slept soundly, woke to a startling piece of news. “What? The Duke is dead?”