Chapter 348: Because This is Certain (1)

The soldiers looked at Ghislain and Arel with an authoritative gaze and said, "Identify yourselves."

Ghislain glanced at Arel. It was the duty of a noble's attendant to handle such matters.

Playing the part of an arrogant noble, Ghislain lifted his chin and gazed elsewhere.

Though Arel had learned basic etiquette from Claude and Belinda, he still fumbled awkwardly as he stammered,

"B-Baron Dougley from the East? W-we're here because, um… uh, what was this word again…?"

Arel awkwardly read from a note Claude had written for him: 'How to Introduce the Lord to Soldiers at the Gate.'

Coming from a rural village, Arel had no familiarity with such protocols. He had only learned to read after arriving in Fenris territory, making it difficult for him to read quickly.

Even with etiquette lessons, it was hard for him to act naturally.

As the soldiers, looking suspicious, pointed their spears forward, Ghislain clicked his tongue and stepped up.

"This is Baron Dougley from the East. I've come to see Count Mowbray to discuss an important matter."

"You wish to see the lord?"

"Indeed."

"May I ask the nature of your business?"

"Should I have to explain my business to a mere soldier? Especially matters to be discussed with the Count?"

Ghislain's stern glare caused the soldiers to slowly withdraw their spears.

After thoroughly inspecting the ID and verifying various details, the soldiers opened the gate.

As Ghislain passed by, one of the soldiers warned, "The lord has been in a very irritable mood lately. Be cautious."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Ghislain responded nonchalantly and walked through.

The atmosphere inside the castle was no different from the outside. The passersby all wore somber expressions.

Looking around at the people, Arel whispered, "Do you think something bad has happened to the territory?"

"To be precise, it's not the territory but the lord himself who is facing trouble."

"But why do the people look so gloomy if it's the lord's problem?"

"Because the lord has become irritable. He's probably punishing even the smallest mistakes harshly. Naturally, the people are living cautiously, trying to avoid trouble."

Arel, who had lived in a small northern village before moving to Fenris, had never experienced living under the watchful eye of a lord.

Though life was hard due to barren lands and frequent barbarian invasions, Ghislain's father, Zwalter, had never tormented his people.

"The lord here must be… a frightening person."

Not wanting to outright call the lord a tyrant, Arel phrased it carefully. Ghislain shook his head and replied, "Not to that extent. He's just facing a problem he can't solve, and his frustration is spilling over onto those around him."

"His frustration is affecting others…?"

"Exactly. The human mind is more fragile than you think. Controlling boiling anger is no easy feat, no matter how much one tries. It inevitably influences others in subtle ways."

"I see."

Arel nodded, understanding somewhat. He himself often felt rage when thinking about the barbarians, and it burned within him.

Could he really live without letting that anger show?

Anyone harboring deep resentment couldn't help but release it in some form.

Now that he understood the situation, a new concern arose in Arel's mind.

"Is it safe to meet a lord like that?"

Considering that they were meeting in disguise, it didn't seem like Ghislain knew the lord personally. But hearing about the lord's anger made him uneasy.

There were only two of them here—himself and Ghislain. He wasn't even proficient in using mana yet.

If a conflict arose, they'd surely face great difficulty. No matter how strong Ghislain was, he couldn't fight an entire territory alone.

Although his lord always came up with solutions, the gloomy atmosphere made Arel anxious.

Sensing Arel's concern, Ghislain smirked.

"There's no need to be so scared. We're not here to fight; we're here to resolve the cause of his anger."

"The cause of his anger?"

"Exactly. And to acquire a new power."

At this, Arel's eyes widened.

To him, Ghislain was already an immensely powerful figure. Yet, he spoke of gaining new power. What kind of power could it possibly be?

"Why? Are you curious?"

"…Yes."

Arel nodded slightly. While he would naturally follow whatever Ghislain decided, he couldn't help but be curious.

Ghislain began walking slowly as he explained.

"The Duchy's 7th-circle mage, Ilois, is a mage of the Illusion School."

"The Illusion… School?"

Mages of the Illusion School could be more troublesome than those of the Destruction Magic School, as they could manipulate their opponents' minds.

Of course, their spells didn't work well on mana users. However, ordinary soldiers stood no chance against high-circle illusion magic.

High-circle mages could cast illusions on a large scale, deceiving countless people at once.

What would happen if such magic was unleashed on a battlefield? Allies might attack each other, and all plans and strategies would be rendered useless.

Thus, Illusion School mages were among the most terrifying forces during wartime.

"But others believe he's from a different school of magic. Being a 7th-circle mage, he knows how to use other types of magic quite well."

"So he's deliberately hiding it?"

"Yes, to save it for critical moments. If someone encounters it unprepared on the battlefield, it will lead to catastrophic results."

"Then the new power you mentioned…"

"Our territory doesn't have anyone who can counter Ilois's illusion magic. That's why I'm here to acquire the means to stop it."

"And that power is here?"

"Yes. Though I probably won't obtain it immediately. It will take some time, so be prepared."

Ghislain didn't explain what this power was. However, as he spoke, his demeanor grew heavier, making Arel tense and swallow dryly.

He wanted to ask exactly what this power was, but he was afraid to. A power capable of countering a 7th-circle mage must come at an extraordinary cost.

I need to be of help.

Ghislain had surely brought him here not only for training but also to give him experience.

And knowing his lord's tendencies, whatever they were about to do would undoubtedly be dangerous. It had always been that way.

Resolving to succeed, Arel hardened his expression and steeled himself.

Ghislain, perhaps sensing the tension, changed the topic to lighten the mood.

"Ah, and resolving the lord's issue will also bring us other benefits."

"What kind of benefits?"

"This lord refuses to ally with anyone. It would be great if he joined us, but even if he simply avoids siding with the Duchy, it'll mean fewer enemies for us. That alone is a win."

Arel nodded, understanding. His lord never acted without considering multiple angles.

While others often criticized Ghislain's plans, Arel never did.

'If the lord says so, then it's true.'

To Arel, Ghislain was like a deity. Whatever he said was unquestionably right.

Unlike Dominic's devotion, Arel's trust came from the faith of someone who had been saved and mentored.

Lacking the knowledge to question anything, he simply followed.

As they chatted, they made their way toward the lord's castle. All around them were people cloaked in a dreary atmosphere.

When they reached the castle gates, knights and soldiers blocked their path once again.

"Halt! What business do you have here?"

Their tone was more polite than at the outer gates, as most who reached the lord's castle were not commoners.

Ghislain smiled and said, "I am Baron Dougley from the East. I'm here to resolve the lord's troubles."

"Troubles, you say?"

"Indeed. I am a very famous exorcist."

***

Count Mowbray was perpetually in a foul mood.

It wasn't due to his territory's state. His land was prosperous.

He had managed his finances well, and his territory was strong enough that no one dared invade recklessly.

His concerns revolved around a single issue: his son.

"How is Edwin's condition?"

"I secretly summoned mages to examine him, but there's been no change."

"And their silence?"

"I made it clear that even the slightest rumor would result in the destruction of their homes and their immediate deaths."

"Good. But we can't keep suppressing this forever."

Count Mowbray took a deep breath, trying to calm his anger.

Though no rumors had spread, his son and heir Edwin's condition had been deteriorating for a long time.

From a young age, Edwin's timid nature had always displeased him, leading to strict upbringing.

As a result, Edwin began avoiding his father, making even brief encounters rare.

This avoidance only prompted harsher treatment. The Count controlled every aspect of Edwin's behavior and berated him for the smallest mistakes.

— "You idiot! How can you fail at something so simple?!"

— "Pathetic! What are you even capable of?!"

— "How can you call yourself the heir to this land?!"

Every time Count Mowbray scolded Edwin, the boy shrank further into himself. The excessive tension made his mistakes more frequent.

And the more mistakes Edwin made, the angrier Count Mowbray became. He found nothing about his son satisfactory.

But about a year ago, Edwin began behaving strangely, and now, he had completely lost his mind.

No, to be precise, saying he was "possessed by something" would be more accurate.

With an eerie appearance, Edwin spewed words of curses while exuding dark energy. Could this really just be madness?

At first, Count Mowbray thought it was simply madness. He summoned priests and tried various methods, but nothing helped.

However, once Edwin began openly radiating an ominous aura, the Count couldn't even call for priests anymore.

"Keep this matter under control so that no rumors spread."

"Understood."

There were occasional accounts of people being possessed by evil spirits. While no one had seen such cases firsthand, historical records documented similar incidents.

The ominous energy Edwin exuded was akin to the aura associated with dark mages. If rumors spread, his son would undoubtedly face death.

Had it been anyone else, Count Mowbray would have personally taken charge and burned them alive. But as his son and heir to the Count's lineage, Edwin couldn't be disposed of so easily.

"I suppose I should go and check on him for a bit."

Count Mowbray began walking slowly.

The lord's castle was vast, even including a small forest and lake within its premises. This allowed the Count to hide his son at the back of the castle, away from prying eyes.

The only people permitted near the tower where Edwin was confined were the guards stationed there, a few servants who delivered meals, and the Count himself.

Reaching the top floor of the tower, Count Mowbray addressed the guards.

"Open it."

At the Count's command, the heavy iron door creaked open slowly.

"Groooaaar…"

As he entered, an animalistic growl echoed through the space.

Count Mowbray looked at his son, who was bound in chains, with a pained expression.

Once delicate to the point of appearing fragile, Edwin now resembled a gaunt corpse.

More horrifying were the black veins running across his body and his completely blackened eyes.

Who could look at him and not believe he was possessed by an evil spirit?

Furthermore, the aura emanating from him—piercing like needles—was something no ordinary person could produce.

As soon as Edwin saw Count Mowbray, his bloodshot black eyes twisted into a mocking sneer. His voice, guttural and rasping as if clogged with phlegm, was deeply unsettling.

His words were disjointed, as though his tongue could no longer function properly.

"Gruuu… Does it not… pain you… to see your son… living like this? Release me… quickly…"

At first, Count Mowbray thought Edwin was pretending to be mad.

He assumed his son was causing a scene out of fear of his strict discipline and scolding.

But as time passed, Edwin's condition grew more severe, until he finally transformed into something truly demonic.

Had his son made a pact with a demon, like a dark mage?

Count Mowbray shook his head. Not just anyone could form a pact with a demon, and Edwin had no knowledge of such matters.

Even in this dire situation, the Count continued to berate his son.

"Pathetic fool, how weak-minded must you be to let an evil spirit consume you?"

"This is your fault. You didn't treat me… like a person. That's why. So my mind broke… and let something in… so easily."

"My fault?"

"Yes… it's your fault. This form… is just the anger inside this body… I'm merely helping it express itself… It's all because of you…"

Edwin's broken speech repeatedly accused his father, each word striking a nerve.

After several deep breaths, Count Mowbray managed to respond.

"Will you not leave my son's body? If you wish, I'll find another host for you."

Count Mowbray, willing to go to any lengths, even offered to find another body, perhaps a condemned criminal.

But the spirit twisted Edwin's head unnaturally and replied, "I cannot… leave… this body."

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