Transmigrated Into A Tragic Romance Fantasy-Chapter 72: Lugan Village (3)

“Ha ha ha ha-! Uhahahahahahaha-!!”

The day before the Grand Ducal Betrothal reached its grand finale, Blund Rosfell stood expelled from his family and stripped of his wealth.

The assassins he hired had vanished with his last coins, leaving him penniless.

However, despite all of this, the man laughed maniacally as he stared at the night sky.

It was absurd.

Incomprehensible.

Unbelievable.

Nonsensical.

In a single moment, he was cast out from his Family, the rulers of the golden fields.

The privileges he enjoyed, the arrogance he exuded, the wealth he flaunted — all vanished overnight.

Even as his face, beaten to a pulp by his father, throbbed painfully, he continued to laugh like a madman.

“Ha, hahaha.”

Brushing the dust off his clothes, Blund finished his laughter and started heading somewhere.

Humans, when faced with unbearable shocks, experience diminished cognitive functions and weakened discernment. They act more on instinct than rational thought, and if unable to overcome the shock, their intellect deteriorates ultimately, reducing them to mere beasts.

“Excuse me.”

The first place Blund visited was the bank.

It had been only a few hours since his expulsion.

News of House Rosfell heir’s disgrace hadn’t yet spread to the bankers, and it was still early enough for him to borrow money using House Rosfell’s name as collateral.

“I need urgent funds, so lend me the maximum possible with the great House Rosfell’s name as collateral.”

However, he didn’t know.

That his father’s steward had already visited the banks.

Anticipating any actions his son might take to tarnish the family’s honor, Lord Rosfell had taken preemptive measures.

“We cannot extend you any credit, sir.”

Thus, naturally, the bank clerk bowed his head and politely refused.

Prompting an outburst from Blund.

“What?! Are you fucking kidding me? Shall I ruin you completely using House Rosfell’s name?!”

“Uh, the bank manager has directed thus, there’s nothing I can do....”

“Shut up and get the manager out here now-!!”

Banks existed only in lands governed by a Count or a higher noble.

And for a bank based in the Grand Duchy, those who held the position of managers were usually Counts themselves.

Hence why, Blund, in his rage, demanded to speak with the Manager.

As someone already driven to the thin line between reality and delusion, he had nothing more to lose.

The only problem was,

“Drag this man out.”

Reality was often more cruel than delusion.

The karma of his past sins was like a snowball rolling down a snow-capped mountain, swelling to an uncontrollable size.

“Do you know who I am?! I am Blund Rosfell, the second son of House Rosfell! Are you courting death now?!”

“Drag this impostor out of my bank now. If he won’t listen, then beat him up until he does.”

“What? What did you just say to me?! Me, an impostor?! Impossible! You! I’ll kill you for this offense!”

Thump!

“Gah! You wretched peasant! How dare you touch me! Let go, I said! Let go!”

Thump!

“Cough!”

Eventually, Blund was brutally beaten with fists and clubs and thrown out of the bank.

Establishments such as banks were reserved solely for the nobility.

Since he was no longer the second son of House Rosfell, nor a noble, the bank became a forbidden territory for Blund.

Without power, money, or influence, he had nothing.

Not even a place to lay down his body.

Such was the reality of the world.

Until now, he was used to all manner of luxuries and gourmet foods.

So the prospect of sleeping on the streets was something horrifying for Blund.

Desperate, he headed towards the commoner district.

The only thing a nobleman’s son, who used to have servants do everything, knew how to do on his own was what he had always done.

Such as extortion and threats.

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“I am Blund Rosfell, the second son of House Rosfell. You! If you hand me everything you own, I might spare you.”

Barging into shops in the commoners’ district, Blund resorted to robbery.

In other places, perhaps his name wouldn’t have been known, but due to the Grand Ducal Betrothal, most commoners in the region were familiar with it, and this awareness made it easy for Blund to extort them.

Moreover, being handsome, he had attracted many followers during the Betrothal, and some women voluntarily offered things and even gave him their bodies.

At least for now, he was still ‘Blund Rosfell’.

Of course, if the Grand Duke heard of him exploiting the people of Winterfell, there would be hell to pay.

But for Blund, who had lost everything, such things were out of mind at the moment.

Thud-.

As days passed, Blund collapsed onto a bed in a rented room, sneering to himself.

Laughing at his own misery.

“To think that this pathetic bed feels comfortable....I must be going crazy...Ha...Hahaha....Hahahahaha!”

Indeed,

Maybe this was the way he should have been living.

After all, aren’t the commoners meant to live serving the mighty nobles?

“Kukukuku-. They think I’d die so easily? Me! The mighty ruler of the Golden Plains! This Blund Rosfell!”

Even now, he couldn’t accept his fate, remaining delusional.

But as he spent his next days extorting the commoners, leading a relatively luxurious life,

Reality struck him.

Hard.

“Ptui-! Fuck, this tastes awful. Do it again! And you better hope it’s good for your own sake!”

Just like usual, he had stormed into a restaurant throwing a fit.

When suddenly, a stone struck the back of his head.

Thwack!

“Argh! Which peasant dared to strike this Lord!?”

Blund yelled in the general direction from where the stone had come, and soon enough,

“Finally found you, wretch! Pretending to be a noble again, huh? You’re nothing but a Hat Thief!”

Trapped amidst an angry crowd, Blund realized something.

The predator had become the prey.

[Hat Thief]

A slang used by the common folk, referring to disgraced nobles who had been excommunicated or cast out.

To some commoners, nobles were objects of absolute hatred.

Disgraced nobles often wore hats to hide their identity, which led to the emergence of this derogatory term.

When those hated by the masses lose their status and fall to the ground, it’s natural for the tables to turn – a situation long-awaited and relished by some commoners.

Thump!

Crash!

Thud!

“This bastard has been cast out! He’s nothing! Beat him up! He dared to get my daughter pregnant! But you’re not even a noble anymore, are you?!”

“I heard he got kicked out of the bank! The cunt doesn’t have a single penny to his name! That’s why he’s been munching on us!”

Rumors that started from the bank had finally spread through the entire Grand Duchy, so, Blund after being beaten senseless by the angry mob, was forced to flee beyond Winterfell’s borders.

The roads he had once traveled with an escort retinue, he now was forced to trek alone, with a bruised body.

At night, frightened by the roars and cries of wild beasts or monsters, Blund couldn’t even sleep.

And sometimes hallucinations tormented his mind.

At the end of his journey, Blund arrived at a village and started shouting.

“The second son of the great Rosfell Marquisate arrived! Bring me food unless you wish to die!”

Despite his disheveled appearance from days of sleeping in the wilds, looking more like a beggar than a noble, Blund scrounged around the village’s establishments yelling such words.

But his only answer was ridicule and contempt instead of fear.

Upon arriving in the village of Lugan, he was so wretched that even the beggars avoided him.

“Get lost! Sigh...Meeting a crazy beggar first thing in the morning? That’s bad luck right there!”

“What is this crazy fucker yelling at this ungodly hour-!”

Thud-!

“Ugh!”

The man who once kicked servants around without hesitation now found the roles reversed as he received merciless kicks.

His mouth, once used to spew orders now only uttered groans mixed with screams.

With each day, his hallucinations only worsened.

Eventually, Blund Rosfell completely lost his mind.

And that was the end of it.

His once lavish life ended so miserably.

Thus, Blund now lived a new life as an infamous figure in the village of Lugan.

“Oh? It’s that red-haired beggar! Hey beggar! Want some bread?”

“Kekeke. Breaaad, bread good. Want bread. kekekeke-.”

“Tsk, what a sorry fool. Here, have a piece!”

The red-haired beggar who now didn’t mind eating things from the ground, would even wriggle his bottom for a piece of bread.

Such was the fate of Blund Rosfell.

“NomNomNomNom! B-Bread! Good Bread! Kekekeke-!”

**

“......”

I stared blankly at the retreating figure of Blund Rosfell.

Kyle Beallon, the escape artist had committed suicide.

Deron Caelid attempted murder and was now a fugitive.

And Blund, the last one of the Regretful Trio, after being abandoned by his family, lost his mind.

Indeed, these guys were worthy of being called the Regretful Trio, not even I expected such a Tragic End for them.

Of course, they had it coming, but seeing a person go mad in just six months was quite disconcerting.

Moreover,

I...Felt the need to offer some help to the baker in memory of the Original Elden, who had once been Blund’s comrade(?), and later a rival candidate.

At the very least, I should do something so he wouldn’t bother the citizens of this village for a while.

From the very beginning, he was nothing if not a nuisance.

“You, baker. Give me all the bread you have left.”

“Sir? D-Do you mean all of it?”

“Here’s a silver coin. Now give me the bread.”

“Ah? B-But this is too much, M-My Lord...”

“Keep the change.”

I gave the baker a silver coin after Blund stole from him.

Purchasing all his remaining loaves of bread.

This way I could at least help the Baker a little, since from what he said, Blund seemed to only target him.

As much as Blund’s situation was pitiful and tragic, there was no need or reason to help him.

In fact, helping Blund would be a slight against Lumia, so after covering the baker’s losses, I took my leave.

“Thank you, My Lord! Be safe on your way out!”

Though I wasn’t particularly hungry, I took a bite of the bread.

My eyes widened, and I looked in the direction Blund had run off.

The bread looked ordinary, but the taste......

......Blund.

So this was the reason you insisted on staying in this place?

“How? How come this bread is so good?”