Translator: Nox

61 - The Time of the Blind Beast (15+ Revised Edition)

Chapter 61

A middle-aged man descended the stairs, pushing aside the servants lined up in the hallway as he strode forward.

Achenaus stared intently at his father's face as he drew closer. The man, often described as the epitome of an intelligent and refined image, with caramel-blond hair and pale blue eyes, bore little resemblance to his two sons, save for his tall stature.

With slight variations, their near-black hair and dark, deep-set eyes, along with their delicate features, were traits inherited from their mother. While Ezekiel resembled his father in his large, muscular build, Achenaus had inherited his mother's slender physique.

"Ah, Father. You were home. I didn't realize, as your study was empty."

Achenaus gritted his teeth and offered a forced smile. Nevertheless, his father's expression remained unchanged. His heavily furrowed gaze swept past Achenaus's face and slowly dropped to the Rifle in his hand.

"What is that you're holding?"

Tsk. The sound of a tongue clicking was audible. It was a reaction Achenaus had grown accustomed to lately, so he felt no embarrassment.

"I heard you came home drunk again today. It seems your head has finally forgotten how to distinguish between time and place?"

At his father's scolding, Achenaus's lips slowly curled. His mouth smiled, but his eyes were chillingly cold.

"Drunken antics should have their limits. Put it down."

"Indeed, I have been rather lax lately. I'll try to pull myself together and be more mindful of time and place from now on."

Despite his father's command, Achenaus did not obey. Instead, he adjusted his grip on the Rifle.

"Speaking of which, I heard some interesting news. Father."

He did not mince words. Instantly, the temperature surrounding the mansion plummeted.

"You don't even ask what the news is. You must have already known everything."

"If it reached your ears, it would naturally have reached mine, the head of the family, first."

His father did not deny the matter Achenaus had subtly probed. While lingering doubts remained, at least the conclusion was certain: Ezekiel's eyesight had been restored, no matter what means were employed.

Furthermore, his father had been involved in the process. He had silenced the messengers, meticulously excluding Achenaus from information to protect Ezekiel.

A sense of suffocating crisis washed over Achenaus. He erased even the insincere smile he had been wearing.

"Therefore, I too need some means to protect myself, don't I?"

"Do you think that gives you the right to fire a gun carelessly within the house?"

"Then why didn't you establish the authority of the eldest son properly from the start?"

This was truly his father's great fault. While he himself had been born first, naturally inheriting the Valdemara family and enjoying its benefits his entire life, why did he pit his children against each other, leading to the current situation?

It was the same in any household. When the established order is overturned, ruin follows. This was especially true for families like the Valdemara family, with its abundant honor and wealth to inherit.

His father should not have hinted at his intention to entrust the family to his younger son, Ezekiel, bypassing him, the elder. And he should have reassured Achenaus that his current position would remain secure. Had the hierarchy between brothers been definitively guaranteed, he would not have felt the precariousness of his position being threatened or the anxiety about his future.

"Authority?"

Yes, it was precisely his father's reaction that was the problem. While appearing extremely neutral on the surface, upon closer examination, his attitude was one of exclusion towards him, the eldest son.

"Your authority is something you establish yourself."

If one's authority is to be established by oneself, is it not natural to take it before it is snatched away by others? He was in danger of having to serve his brother as the master of Valdemara if he let his guard down.

Achenaus tightened his grip on the Rifle and retorted, "Yes, that's what I intend to do."

Though he replied out of sheer defiance, he could not shake off his profound unease.

The more anxious he became, the more Achenaus hid his true feelings behind a false smile. But the effect was fleeting. In the end, it was merely a hollow mask.

Achenaus never let the loaded Rifle out of his sight. This was true even during meals and sleep. His father was the only one who might have stopped his eccentric behavior, but even as family, they rarely spent time together, so only the servants were constantly terrified by the Rifle being aimed in all directions.

"Close the curtains."

After finishing his meal and leaving the dining room, his father, who meticulously managed his packed schedule from the early morning, would be gone. Then Achenaus, who woke late and had a more flexible routine, would come down and close the dining room curtains, marking the start of his day. Only after meticulously ensuring he could not be spotted from outside would he enter the dining room and sit down.

The food laid out in the dining room was always for one person. The servants were accustomed to preparing a single portion at different times each day.

Ezekiel, who had enlisted in the army early and fought in wars, and his mother, who felt little affection for her children and prioritized herself above all else, were often away from the mansion.

His mother had fulfilled only the bare minimum role expected of a Mistress of the house from a prestigious family. Having taken the place of her sister, whose arranged marriage to Valdemara was planned, she married after receiving her father's promise that as long as she bore heirs, her life would be as she wished. She gave birth to Achenaus and Ezekiel.

And as soon as she had fulfilled her duty, she began to enjoy only the rights of a Mistress of the house. After her children were somewhat grown, she spent most of her time on vacations and travels. This was why the Valdemara family uniquely possessed numerous estates across the country.

It was the same these days. His mother, who had been staying in the relatively safe South due to the outbreak of war, had briefly returned to Claris, but became so overwrought by the gossip of the socialites focused on the Valdemara family that she left again for a recuperation trip.

Thus, only two people remained to guard this vast mansion, the Valdemara family.

The more he thought about it, the more his anger flared. Ezekiel might have been trying to defend the country at the border, but he neglected his home. Ever since enlisting, he was frequently away from home under the pretext of various training exercises, and consequently, was ignorant of the family's affairs. In contrast, Achenaus had been away from home only a handful of times. If one were looking for someone who remained at the mansion and cared for the family's well-being, it was him, not Ezekiel.

Then, wasn't he the one qualified to inherit Valdemara?

"...Damn it."

Achenaus would eat with the Rifle resting on his lap, but the moment he sensed a suspicious presence, he would immediately grab the gun and scan his surroundings. Even if it was a weapon he didn't know how to use properly, it was better than nothing.

However, the mansion was excessively large. There were too many staff members. In the vast space, countless footsteps were heard incessantly, causing extreme fatigue. Though he tried to endure it, uncontrollable anger would erupt sporadically.

It was absurd for the master of the house to be wary of his employees. It was the employees who should be cautious not to offend him, their master.

It happened perhaps twice. Achenaus took advantage of his father's absence to pull the trigger, issuing a warning to the servants. He was extremely sensitive to even the slightest sound now, and he wanted to prevent them from lingering unnecessarily and disturbing his vigilance.

What else could he do? He lacked the ability to detect enemies or discern their identities from the slightest sound, unlike Ezekiel. He was not skilled enough to handle the Rifle to accurately take down an enemy with a single shot.

It was easier to fire a warning shot than to lecture each servant who loitered suspiciously and blocked his view. Moreover, if someone were seriously injured by a gunshot, it might become a headache to clean up the aftermath, but the possibility of him aiming accurately with his current skill was low. Therefore, Achenaus fired without hesitation. The bullets actually lodged in walls or doors. That alone was enough to instill a sense of caution in the servants.

Of course, there was a significant difference between being unable to hit a target you wanted to hit and choosing not to hit a target you could hit.

"I wish I could practice shooting..."

His own skill was pathetic, even to his own eyes. If he had known, he should have practiced shooting more often.

But looking for a hunting ground now would also be dangerous. An open outdoor space would be like him voluntarily offering himself as a target for Ezekiel to shoot.

Lately, Achenaus was accompanied by dozens of security personnel even for short outings. If one lacked the confidence to protect oneself, it was right to use the hands and bodies of others. Even then, Achenaus was careful to select individuals not associated with Ezekiel.

However, even with multiple layers of security personnel surrounding him, he did not feel particularly reassured. Even accounting for the exaggeration inherent in rumors, Ezekiel was renowned as a master marksman. The thought that it might not be difficult for Ezekiel, whose shooting skills were said to fell enemies with perfect accuracy even with his eyes closed, to shoot through his security detail filled him with dread.

Achenaus ran his hands through his disheveled hair.

Who in this house could he rely on?

If he couldn't trust anyone inside or outside the house, where should he stay?

Perhaps it would be better to retreat to an estate in the countryside, like that other fellow, and lock himself away?