I'm the Crazy One in the Family-Chapter 271: Victory is a Side Reward (8)

There was a strange village within the territory of the Bydent family. It was a small settlement of about a hundred households, built modestly along the ridges deep in the mountains.

Arbold, the former lieutenant-captain of the Order of the Silver Leopard and now aide to the current patriarch Jordic, surveyed the village. The low stone fences were nothing more than markers of each property line, and the lack of even a single watchtower seemed to testify to how safe these mountains were.

“The Ghost Face Slayer is really living in a place like this...?”

Cray was given the title of the Ghost Face Slayer because everyone who saw his face died.

Arbold, tense, licked his dry lips and stepped into the village.

“Excuse me. Is there someone named Cray in this village?”

People who lived in remote places were usually not friendly toward strangers, but the middle-aged man was cheerful toward Arbold.

“Of course. Lord Cray is our village chief, doctor, and teacher. He is a truly admirable man! You don’t look lost, though. What brings you here?”

“The head of Bydent is looking for Lord Cray.”

“The patriarch wants to see the chief? He must have recognized our chief’s talents as well. Please, follow me. The chief is currently teaching the children.”

The nameless middle-aged man was kind, like a rabbit living on an island with no predators. The others were the same.

No walls, and the doors to every house are open... And there’s no market, either.

No one seemed worried about thieves, and there wasn’t even the concept of buying and selling. It looked like they simply shared what they needed with each other.

Just then, a little girl ran up to them.

“Hi, Mr. Jim! Who’s that?” she asked innocently, pointing at Arbold.

“Matilda! He’s an important person. He’s a knight sent by the lord of our land!”

The patriarch of Bydent didn’t technically own the Bydent estate, but Arbold didn’t bother correcting him, as commoners often mixed up patriarchs and feudal lords.

“A knight?!”

The girl’s eyes sparkled.

“Please wait just a moment, Mr. Knight!” the girl asked.

“Matilda, if you need anything, come find us at the school! We’re on our way to see the chief.”

“Okay!”

“Hohoho, isn’t she adorable? Do you have any children, sir?”

“I’m unmarried.”

“What? But you’re so handsome. How could you not have a partner yet? Perhaps you’d like to meet my daughter? She’s the prettiest girl in the village.”

The man called Jim was a chatterbox. Arbold didn’t really want to chat, so he mostly stayed silent, but Jim kept talking nonstop about how safe and pleasant the village was to live in.

Once they arrived at what seemed to be the school, Arbold took a blindfold from his coat.

“I’ll put on a blindfold now. Please don’t be alarmed.”

“Is that some city fashion? Fascinating.”

“Please take me to Lord Cray.”

“Of course. Just follow me, alright? I’ll let you know if there’s a step or a ledge.”

Jim worried that Arbold might trip with his eyes covered, but such concern was unnecessary for a four-star knight.

“Alright, kids. If you have ten apples and eat seven, how many are left?”

The voice of the man teaching the six or so children rang clearly in Arbold’s ears.

“Three!”

“And if I bring you five more apples, how many apples do you have in total?”

“Uuumm...”

The children counted on their fingers or closed their eyes to think.

With the blindfold on, he couldn’t see the man’s face, so he tried to picture Cray just from his voice and tone. He imagined a man over forty whose skin was well cared for, without many wrinkles. His eyebrows would be dark yet narrow, and his face was the kind that would easily break into a smile even at silly jokes.

So this is Cray, the Ghost Face Slayer...

This was a mad killer who had slaughtered thousands just for seeing his face, and a seven-star Prime who had survived a fight with the Royal Order of Dragons.

Cray was completely different from what he imagined. Arbold wondered if he had come to the wrong place.

“Ahem, sir! You have a visitor. Could you spare a moment?”

At Jim’s words, Cray raised a finger to his lips and looked at the children.

“What did I say we do when a guest arrives?”

“We stay quiet!”

“Because quiet children are good children who get praised.”

The children clamped their mouths shut. Cray smiled with his eyes as he looked past Jim at Arbold.

“Traveler from afar. I don’t see a cane, so your eyes don’t seem to be bad. Why the blindfold?”

Arbold didn’t want to waste time on Cray’s probing and went straight to the point.

“Juan Chernoga Quirzie Cray, I’ve come to release your shackles. In accordance with your oath, honor your promise to Bydent.”

“Ah...”

At those words, Cray staggered and pressed a hand to his forehead. Jim quickly rushed to support him.

“Are you alright? What sort of promise did you make with Bydent for it to shock you this much...?”

“What business is it of a worm like you?”

“Eh? I just meant, as our chie...”

Jim wasn’t able to finish his sentence, as his head rolled across the floor.

“Sigh... I was just getting used to life here... and now I have to say goodbye again,” Cray said with a sniffle.

Arbold froze, not because Jim had been killed, but because of how he had been killed.

I-impossible. When did he even swing? I didn’t sense the beginning of the strike, or the end...!

Arbold had doubted Cray because he hadn’t sensed any aura or presence from him. That hadn’t changed even now. Cray felt like an ordinary man. That in itself wasn’t impossible, as Masters skilled at concealing their presence could pretend to be normal.

But usually, once they acted, their killing intent or aura would leak out. Yet Cray had killed Jim in the blink of an eye without letting anything slip.

“A... Ah...?”

“Mr. Jim...?”

“Wahhh!!!”

The children in the classroom shattered the silence with their sobbing.

Don’t cry, you idiots!

He was already wearing the blindfold, but he couldn’t help squeezing his eyes shut even tighter.

Splatter! Drr...

Even without seeing, he could imagine exactly what had happened. Arbold trembled.

That lunatic! Even the children... the very ones he was teaching!

Tap.

Arbold flinched violently at the touch on his shoulder. Cray, who had clearly been ten paces away, was suddenly right behind him. He traced a finger lightly along the edge of Arbold’s blindfold.

“To be honest, I didn’t think you would call me. Patrah, that bastard, always struck me as the type who would rather let Bydent burn than risk his own neck. If they’ve sent for me anyway, I guess he’s dead?”

Chills ran down Arbold’s back, not because of Cray’s deduction about Bydent, but because his tone hadn’t changed at all. It was the same warm, gentle voice he had used with the children. He sounded like he could start comforting them again at any moment.

Arbold steadied his breathing. The cognitive dissonance made him nauseous, but he still had a mission to carry out.

“The current patriarch of Bydent is Lord Jordic.”

“Hm? Jordic? Not Volus? I thought Volus was the eldest. Don’t try to fool me.”

“Lord Volus... was killed.”

“Interesting. So, by the looks of it, Patrah was killed, and then Volus, who should’ve been the next patriarch, was killed as well. And yet Jordic, who became patriarch afterward, is perfectly fine. Sounds like he killed them.” Cray speculated.

“That’s not true! Lord Jordic would never commit such a crime. Lord Patrah died of old age, and it was a man named Keter who killed Lord Volus.”

“Keter? That name doesn’t tell me anything. What is he?”

“...He is a bastard from Sefira, the Masters of Archery, who has risen to prominence recently. He won the Sword of the South Tournament and became the Bow of the South. The archery we saw from him then... wasn’t like any kind of archery we’ve known before.”

“So you’ve come to ask me to kill him. Fair enough. I did make a promise with Patrah—I swore I’d kill whoever Bydent designates. That vow is what’s kept me here in this village for decades.”

Arbold hadn’t known that much about their arrangement. He swallowed. Even though his blindfold was tightly secured, it felt like it might slip off if he moved even a little.

“I kill anyone who sees my face, no exceptions. That’s why you came with a blindfold. Patrah gave you good advice. I can’t kill someone who hasn’t seen me. But you know what’s interesting?”

Creak. Grind.

The sounds of metal plates grinding against each other rang out. Arbold didn’t want to know what Cray was doing to make that sound.

“I’ve seen Jordic’s face before, and he’s seen mine. He wouldn’t remember, of course; he was still a baby who couldn’t even walk. But it doesn’t matter. The world remembers our meeting. Kekekek...”

“...Have you finished speaking?”

“Hm?”

Cray paused and frowned, seeing that Arbold wasn’t cowering.

“Whatever contract you made has nothing to do with me. Here is a map and a sketch of Keter. Kill him.”

“...Since you came to me despite knowing all this, I assume that means you’re prepared for the consequences? Hehehe... Seems the years I’ve waited for weren't wasted.”

Cray took the map and Keter’s sketch from Arbold and turned away.

“I’ll start the job tomorrow. I’ve already got an appointment today. Unless you’d like to watch?”

“I’ll be leaving.”

“Tell Jordic this: soon, I’ll bring him Keter’s head... and then I’ll come for his as well.”

Arbold left the village without replying. This innocent village would soon turn into a living hell. He had neither the power nor the duty to stop it.

“I don’t know anything. I don’t know anything...”

All Arbold could do was run while muttering like a madman.

* * *

Three days before the Family War began, the heads of both families met to establish the rules. The meeting place was the Tuka Plains, the land located between the two territories.

Unlike Jordic, known as the Spear Dragon, Hissop had no titles or famous achievements in archery. For his safety, he brought one escort.

And that escort was, of course...

“Keter...”

Jordic stared silently at Keter, who stood beside Hissop.

Winter had fully arrived. Each breath turned into pale white mist. Even though aura-trained knights rarely felt heat or cold, both Jordic and Hissop’s ears were bright red.

Meanwhile, Keter was sticking out his tongue toward the sky and eating falling snow, wearing short sleeves and shorts. Even Transcendentals weren’t completely immune to the weather; they took off layers when hot and bundled up when cold.

Keter’s bizarre behavior grated Jordic’s nerves. He took a deep breath. This meeting was important; these rules would determine which side would gain the upper hand in the Family War.

After countless strategy meetings with his advisors, Jordic had prepared additional rules, specifically designed to restrict and weaken Sefira’s greatest asset: Keter.

Of course, these rules only mattered if Hissop agreed to them. So Jordic had carefully crafted them so that they were plausible enough that even Hissop might accept them.

Standing ten meters apart, Jordic stepped forward first. Hissop followed a moment later. They met halfway. Jordic extended his hand.

“Deputy Patriarch Hissop, a shame we must meet under such circumstances.”

“Likewise, Lord Jordic.”

Hissop did not take the handshake. Jordic didn’t react, merely lowered his hand and presented a parchment he held in the other.

“These are the rules I propose for the Family War. If anything is unclear or acceptable to you, do let me know.”

“I will review them.”

Hissop opened the parchment. Over thirty finely written clauses filled the page, but he did not frown; he simply began reading carefully.

Jordic stepped back and glanced sideways. Nether, who had wanted to meet Keter face-to-face, finally had his moment. They stood across from each other.

“An honor to meet you, Lord Keter. I am Nether, leader of the Tiger Unit,” Nether said, approaching with a friendly smile.

“You... I’ve seen you somewhere.”

Keter stopped eating snow and stared directly at Nether. Nether laughed lightly.

How sloppy. I’ve never once monitored you personally; only my subordinates have. There is no way you could recognize me.

Nether had avoided showing himself to Keter until now because his preparations weren’t complete. But now, they were.

Whatever you say, Keter, I’m prepared. Even if you pretend to recognize me.

That was how a Solver operated: to solve a problem, one must first see it and understand it. And Nether planned to handle Keter in his own way.

“Oh! I remember now!”

“Haha, you must be confusing me with someone else. We’ve never met before.”

“You’re right. You have never seen me, but I have seen you a long time ago.”

“...?”

Nether knew Keter was insane, but hearing him claim to have seen him a long time ago was ridiculous.

I don’t know how long “long ago” was, but I was born in the Samael Empire, you idiot. It hasn’t even been a year since I moved to the Lillian Kingdom. He’s trying to get something out of me by pretending to know me. What a pathetic attempt.

Just as Nether was starting to think that Keter was simply a fool spouting nonsense—completely unlike what he had expected—Keter’s next words made Nether’s heart drop.

Keter’s next words made his heart drop.

“You’re Nether, the Solver from the Samael Empire.”

“...”

This was not part of his predictions. Nether couldn’t believe it.

Impossible. I never revealed my identity to Sefira. Even if I didn’t use an alias, only high-ranking officials in the empire know I work as a Solver. So how in the world does Keter know? This shouldn’t be possible.

Nether felt himself getting nervous, but he forced himself to stay calm.

“And how did you come to know that?”

“How could I? Because...”

Keter reached into his pocket. Nether stiffened. He had no idea what might come out of that pocket. It was a thick book that couldn’t have possibly fit inside.

Nether’s mind raced.

What is that? A directory? A wanted list? No... it’s too worn for that. Huh? Wait. That cover... I’ve seen it somewhere before...

To Nether’s shock, the mysterious book Keter pulled out was a book he knew well.

—Everything About Problem-Solvers

—Author: Nether

“I became a Solver because of your book, you know. Since fate brought us together like this, can I get your autograph?”