Transmigrated Into A Tragic Romance Fantasy-Chapter 59: Endings always meant new Beginnings

Perhaps because it had been Ariel’s first hangover, she had been bedridden for two days, so I spent my free time training.

Usually, we had our reading sessions in the mornings, but with my reading buddy knocked out, there was no reason for me to visit the library.

Crackle!

Crunch!

While I took a bite from an apple, I brought my magic forward.

From what I’ve read in those guides, the nature of one’s magic is tied to one’s innate temperament.

The color of their magic would usually match their hair color.

As such, my magic seemed to have an ‘electric’ characteristic.

In the Medieval Era, having an electric power would be an immense boon, sadly I don’t have any sort of devices to use it on. And from what I understand, I won’t be using attacks like the ‘10,000,000 Volt Thunderbolt’ that Pikachu could do.

Hm, I wonder if Tesla or Edison are around in this world too.

I mused idly as I sat on a bench on the outskirts of the training ground.

Hm?

I spotted a nobleman I hadn’t seen before heading towards the castle.

He was being accompanied by a butler, and his attire clearly indicated that he was a high noble at a glance.

Who’s that?

The visibly enraged ‘Noble’ passed by the training ground. He seemed old enough to be my father, and as I looked at his face, I could see a certain resemblance to an unpleasant fellow.

He looks like Deron?

He had the same blond hair and similar features. But what could have brought Deron’s father here, 2 days before the end of the Betrothal?

It was a mystery.

I shrugged my shoulders and resumed my training, welcoming the afternoon.

And then.

Hmm?

As I wiped off my sweat under the afternoon sun, I caught sight of another noble. He too looked to be part of the higher nobility, and his features were familiar.

Blund?

What’s going on?

Earlier today Deron’s father showed up and entered the Grand Castle, and now in the afternoon, Blund’s father has also appeared.

What could be the reason for the Finalists’ fathers’ gathering when the Grand Ducal Betrothal was concluding?

Hm.

I wondered if the father of the escape artist, Kyle Beallon would also appear.

When I was just about to leave for dinner,

......What the hell.

A noble with blue hair showed up.

Perhaps because the other two nobles who had previously arrived had such an intense aura, this one looked to be somewhat meek(?), which made me certain of his identity.

This man was Kyle’s father.

All the candidates’ fathers had gathered two days before the finale.

Moreover, the Grand Duke, who was supposed to be in the Capital for official duties had also returned.

Since that night, there has been no news from Lumia...

The candidates’ fathers were gathering now...

The Grand Duke’s return...

Surely this meant something was going on with the Betrothal for them to gather like this.

Rustle-.

I rummaged through my coat to check the state of the ‘agreement’.

Had I been a day late, I might have dealt with the Grand Duke instead of Gelwood.

And that would surely have taken a bad turn.

Even if Gelwood wielded the Grand Duke’s authority, he couldn’t match the sheer wrath a father would have upon learning of the ‘pain’ inflicted on his daughter.

Any normal father would instantly skip towards the ‘punishment’ part when talking to someone who had caused his daughter’s pain.

Sigh-.

I should be grateful for my swift withdrawal.

With such feelings, I took a big bite out of another apple.

Crunch-!

And then I thought.

So everyone had a dad.

A pointless thought.

**

《I’m sorry...Your Grace.》

《What is done is done. I have entrusted you with full authority, and you gave your best, despite this being a rather...Vexing situation. Nonetheless, there is no need to apologize.》

Just days after leaving the Grand Duchy, Logan Winterfell made an urgent return and heard the full story from Gelwood.

The testimony from the withdrawer named Elden Raphelion, alongside the recent developments.

It was distressing, to say the least, but what mattered to Logan wasn’t the past, but the future.

Leaders like him shouldn’t be beholden to the past.

Thus, granting a ‘pardon’ for that little wretch wasn’t a difficult decision for him.

For Logan, the fact that the treaty signed by Gelwood specifically stated that all events that transpired during the Grand Ducal Betrothal would remain absolutely confidential was a relief.

The most pressing issue now was to ensure the completion of the Betrothal and ensure the following festival would happen without a hitch.

As the Ruler of the North, nothing would be more shameful than disappointing his subjects.

And if the Betrothal was ruined, he wouldn’t have the courage to face his ancestors.

The traditions of Winterfell mustn’t be marred.

He could not let the people of the northern province be disappointed. The punishment for his youngest daughter, who had desecrated a sacred tradition through misguided judgment, would be dealt with later.

With such a mindset, Logan stared at the trembling figure of Deron Caelid, who was kneeling before him.

Thanks to the letters sent by Lumia, he was able to deal with this mess with the other family heads directly.

The negotiations ended in Duke Caelid’s victory.

But of course, the Duke of Caelid had no choice, such a conclusion was inevitable.

Marquis Rosfell had publicly disowned his son, and Count Beallon had brought his child in shackles.

Thus, Deron Caelid was the only remaining candidate, becoming the final victor.

Of course, for now, this was nothing more than a pyrrhic victory.

“I want you to know this brat. I am not pleased by making you the winner.”

“I...I apologize...M-My Lord...I’ve c-committed a sin worthy of de-dea-death...!”

“100 days.”

“Ye-Yes?”

“If you do not gain Lumia’s favor within that time, then the Betrothal will be as if it never happened. Understand?”

This too was negotiated with Duke Caelid.

Deron’s ultimate fate would be determined by his daughter’s decision.

To the Grand Duke, conducting a smooth festival for his subjects was more important than the fate of such a worthless brat.

“So, grovel and bark like the dog you are. Amuse my daughter you filthy rat. So that she may heal from her pain.”

100 days.

That was the grace period given to Deron, who smashed his head against the floor.

Thump-!

Whether this was an opportunity, a new crisis, or a punishment, the convicted shouted while pressing his bruised head to the floor.

“I’ll do my best!”

As such, Deron Caelid made his vow,

Unsure whether this would bring him misfortune or not.

**

Night had come and enshrouded the realm in its darkness.

Blund Rosfell fiddled with the bandage wrapped around his right hand.

He had no idea it would hurt this much.

Nor how humiliating this had been.

As someone who had never been struck by his father, the pain and humiliation of being trampled by a woman was excruciating.

“...I should’ve killed her then, that bitch.”

Blund gritted his teeth.

Thankfully for him, Lumia hadn’t shown her face for days now.

Otherwise, by now, his left hand might have been destroyed too.

He didn’t care about winning anymore.

Blund might have lacked the courage to face his father, but disappointing his family would be a hundred times better than being around that wench.

“She hid her identity like a fucking pig and now she makes a fuss? If she hadn’t hidden it, this wouldn’t have happened, dumb bitch.”

Being trampled by the same toy he used to break in the Academy was something he never wished to withstand ever again.

“She thinks she’ll get away with this? Stupid bitch, I’ll pay you back a hundredfold for this–Just you wait.”

With a sneer, Blund stood up.

And then, an unexpected reunion occurred.

“...Father...?”

Wham-!

Crack-!

Their unexpected father-and-son reunion started with a fist impacting Blund’s face, his teeth flying out of his mouth as his nose broke.

The son, suddenly overwhelmed by despair, collapsed to the ground.

“Kuh! Arghh, Father...!?”

With his nose bleeding profusely, Blund looked up at his Father.

Never before had his father laid a hand on him, so Blund felt a terror more intense than the despair of his father’s ruthless violence.

“Men! This fool is no longer a member of the Rosfell House. Strip him of everything and throw this trash out of my sight.”

As he heard his father’s words, Blund felt as if he was falling into a deep abyss.

A hole so deep, he could never crawl out of it.

So, he desperately held his father’s legs with the bloodstained hand that covered his nose.

“F-Father! What are you saying?! How could you abandon your own son?!”

But instead of answering his pleas, Blund only received more beatings.

His father’s boot crashed against his face, launching Blund into the air, as he collapsed on the floor.

Smack-!

“Gah-!”

Veins burst, turning his eyes bloodshot.

His crushed nose continued to bleed.

And his teeth, pulled out from their gums, gushed red.

“Useless filth like you are not needed in the Rosfell Marquisate. With the Grand Duke’s support and approval, henceforth you are no longer associated with the Rosfell name.”

That would be his end.

His ties with the Rosfell Marquisate were terminated through ruthless violence.

Robbed of everything he had, Blund had hurriedly fled the Grand Duke’s castle as he despaired.

“No...No...!”

The frantic men walked to a certain location.

The same place he had secretly visited yesterday.

A place where he had emptied his entire fortune to fund a certain task.

Determined to not repeat his humiliation, Blund had used his entire money to cast eternal darkness upon Lumia’s name.

Money, after all, could always be extracted in ample amounts once he returned to his family.

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Money was no object if it meant achieving his revenge.

But now, without his family’s backing, the upfront payment he had thrown, mattered more than his revenge.

As such, Blund quickly made his way to that place.

And,

“Ah...Ahhh...”

He realized that there was no escape from the abyss he had fallen into.

The place harboring that shady organization was completely deserted.

The organization that had promised to fulfill his request had vanished like a mirage.

Thud-.

Blund collapsed on the floor, his view tinged with blood as he looked up at the sky.

And then, he laughed.

Laughed at how everything he had, had disappeared in an instant, he laughed at all the misfortune that came his way.

“Ha...Hahahaha! HAHAHAHAHA!”

Kyle Beallon, who had somehow escaped his makeshift prison, had jumped off a cliff to his death.

Blund Rosfell, cast out by his family, robbed of everything he owned, had been reduced to a beggar on the streets.

And,

Deron Caelid, whether he had been saved or doomed, was now trapped in 100 days of unrest.

The punishment for the wicked had thus ended.

But endings always meant new beginnings.

**

Crunch!

“Hmm...What if I make something like whey protein...It’s going to be a certain hit, right?”

The last one of the supposed ‘Villainous Quartet’ simply munched on his apple while thinking nonsense.