**Chapter 163**
—
The engagement ceremony of the two greatest houses of the capital.
True to its reputation, an unprecedentedly lavish banquet unfolded.
“Hoho… In all my life, I’ve never seen such a splendid party.”
“At this scale, it nearly rivals a royal festival.”
“But then again, considering the prestige of the Dormund and Bayern houses, it isn’t all that strange.”
The nobles who attended the banquet could not hide their astonishment at its grandeur.
For them—people who lived as though every day was a celebration—such magnificence was remarkable even still.
And into that atmosphere, **Cain Dormund appeared.**
“…!”
The music of the banquet paused, and all eyes turned to him.
Flaming red hair.
A chilling scar slashed across his face.
A man who evoked the image of a lion stood at the entrance of the hall.
*That man is the true power of the Empire… Cain Dormund.*
*Unbelievable… To rise to the Empire’s foremost position at such a young age.*
*Not ordinary at all. Just his presence alone subdues the entire hall…*
Then, Cain, who had briefly halted his steps, began to walk again.
In that instant, the crowd before him parted into two paths.
It was a phenomenon befitting the procession of a king, yet no one questioned it.
Cain himself was no different.
He strode forward as though this passage were his natural right, and the nobles around him watched, entranced.
Arriving at the very center of the banquet, Cain inclined his head.
There stood a black-haired girl clad in a snow-white dress.
Cain gazed intently at her for a moment before slowly asking,
“Lady. Are you prepared?”
At his question, the black-haired girl—Irene—replied.
“…Yes. I am prepared.”
Cain nodded and gave his command.
“Begin the engagement ceremony. Bring Bill.”
Thus commenced the true beginning of the banquet.
—
—
With Cain Dormund’s arrival, the festivities began in earnest.
Wine and music flowed freely, and dancers enlivened the merriment.
Into this joyous mood entered a one-eyed man and the black-haired girl.
The protagonists of the evening: **Bill Dortmund and Irene Bayern.**
The nobles nearby bustled with excitement at their entrance.
“Oh my, Young Lord Bill! You always look so gallant!”
“My goodness… The last time I saw you, you still seemed a boy, and now you’re already holding an engagement ceremony!”
“Hoho… To pledge a future with Lady Irene Bayern, the fairest beauty of the capital? Even I feel envious.”
Bill grinned ear to ear at the polite compliments.
“Hmhm! My bride is certainly beautiful, isn’t she?”
At that foolish display, the nobles smiled outwardly while inwardly sneering.
*Really now… should I say the Dormund family is incredible for arranging this?*
*How did they possibly match this fool with Lady Irene Bayern?*
*Still, his father’s power is undeniable…*
Bill Dormund—the capital’s foremost idiot.
There wasn’t a soul in the capital who didn’t know of him.
Ever since he lost one eye, he had become a simpleton, spending his days in absurd antics.
Thus, this engagement was recognized by all as purely political maneuvering.
After all, who was the bride of this fool?
None other than the sole heir of the Bayern house—**Lady Irene Bayern**, renowned as both the descendant of the Empire’s most venerable family and its most celebrated beauty.
Had the disparity been merely a matter of degree, perhaps tongues would not wag. But this union was so blatant in its intent that all one could do was click one’s tongue.
Still, none dared voice their discontent.
This was Cain Dormund’s stage.
To disgrace him here would have been sheer madness.
So, with false smiles, the nobles showered Bill and Irene with blessings.
And from the high seat, watching the scene, Cain murmured,
“Snake. When does this banquet end?”
At his question, a man cloaked in a heavy hood—Snake—appeared and answered.
“At the earliest, Your Excellency must remain until midnight.”
Cain drummed his fingers.
“For a mere engagement, it consumes far too much time.”
“…I shall see if there is a way to hasten the ceremony.”
With a wave of Cain’s hand, Snake withdrew.
Left alone once more, Cain was sipping his wine when someone approached.
“My, my. On such a joyous day, why drink so miserably alone?”
It was the **Seventh Imperial Prince**—and notorious libertine—**Leon Madrid.**
Cain raised his brow at the unexpected visitor.
“…I greet Your Highness.”
“It has been a while, Count. Have you been well?”
Cain tilted his head.
Their relationship had never been good.
*Why seek me out now?*
Leon, wearing his usual disarming smile, asked theatrically,
“May I sit here, Count? I came alone, and it seems no one wishes to keep me company.”
After some hesitation, Cain allowed it.
Leon plopped into the seat, lifted his glass, and offered,
“Shall we toast?”
“……”
Cain looked at him with incredulity.
*What in the world is this debauched prince up to?*
Except for the Second Prince, Khan Madrid, all others of the royal bloodline had perished in the **Bloody Purge.**
From that day onward, Leon Madrid had lived as one of the Empire’s most infamous wastrels.
Rumor even said that half the noblewomen of the Empire had shared his bed—such was his reputation for dissipation.
And now this notorious rake sought to clink glasses not with a courtesan but with him?
Suspicion narrowed Cain’s gaze.
“…Do you have something to say?”
Leon shrugged.
“Not particularly. But must there be conversation to share a drink?”
“Your Highness and I are hardly on friendly terms.”
“Haha… Is that so? I always thought our relations weren’t that bad.”
Despite Leon’s glibness, Cain still did not raise his glass.
Leon, however, paid it no mind.
He set his drink down and rambled—about women, about nations, about politics.
His words were scattered, shallow, and meaningless.
As Cain’s expression grew stranger, Leon suddenly chuckled.
“…Haha. This is my first time, but seducing a man is really difficult. Normally, there’d be some reaction by now.”
“…?”
Cain’s thick brows twitched.
*Seducing… a man?*
This rake… what nonsense was he spouting?
Could it be that he had just tried to make a pass at me?
Cain gave a dumbfounded laugh.
Then Leon’s tone abruptly shifted.
“Count. The game isn’t over yet.”
Cain’s lips, which had parted, slowly closed.
His eyes sharpened as he stared at Leon.
The prince’s smile had vanished.
“My brother, Khan Madrid, has not yet ascended the throne. Who shall sit upon it remains to be seen.”
Cain lowered his gaze.
“…Your Highness, what are you saying?”
He growled like a beast.
“For one who lives like a spent libertine to suddenly speak of the throne—have you gone mad?”
Leon’s lips curled upward.
“Hm… Perhaps so. Yes, I am mad.”
He rose, poured wine into Cain’s empty glass, and spoke.
“There’s a saying: when your closest friend is mad, you’d best be cautious. So take care, Count.”
He shoved the filled glass toward Cain.
The wine spilled, soaking Cain’s garments crimson.
As Cain’s expression hardened, Leon warned with a triumphant smile,
“The world’s greatest mad dog has returned. A mad dog that will tear out your throat.”
Bowing, Leon departed.
Cain tried to seize him, but it was too late.
By some trick, Leon Madrid had vanished without a trace.
Cain’s face froze, and attendants rushed in.
“C-Count!”
“Fetch something to clean at once!”
Just as Cain was about to erupt in fury, Snake reappeared, eyes wide.
“…Master. What happened?”
Cain, breathing raggedly, muttered,
“Snake. Find Leon Madrid at once.”
“…Your Excellency means the Seventh Prince?”
“Yes. Bring him before me at once.”
Though puzzled, Snake bowed.
“Yes, understood. And as you commanded, the ceremony has been advanced.”
He gestured toward the center of the hall, where Irene and Bill stood.
“Once the rings are exchanged and vows declared, today’s schedule will conclude.”
Cain’s gaze shifted to his son and the Bayern girl, surrounded by nobles.
Bill was giddy, unable to contain his delight. Irene’s face was dark with despair.
Cain recalled Leon’s warning and muttered,
*Something’s wrong. Leon Madrid… he wouldn’t speak so without cause.*
Sensing a sinister current, Cain barked an urgent order.
“Double the security immediately, and summon every one of the Thirteen Ghosts who can still move to—”
But his words were cut off.
**Bang—!**
A gunshot rang out.
The doors burst open, and a bloodied man collapsed into the center of the hall.
Nobles blinked in shock.
“…Sir Haruden?”
It was the Bayern guardian knight—Haruden—responsible for today’s security.
Mouths fell open in disbelief.
“…W-what!? Why Haruden!?” Snake cried out.
Haruden was not only the Bayern house’s guardian knight but also Dormund’s secret agent—an esteemed swordsman who had reached the Seventh Circle.
And yet here he was, collapsed and drenched in blood.
*W-what… what’s happening?*
As Snake reeled, the great doors flung wide.
A black-haired man, soaked in blood, entered.
“…!”
Gasps rippled as nobles stumbled back.
The blood-soaked man lifted his lips into a grin.
“Ahh… I almost died waiting. Who knew patience could be so hard…”
He wiped the blood from his face.
Cain’s mouth slowly fell open.
“…Arthur Bayern?”
He blinked, but the vision did not vanish.
It was indeed him—seven years missing, heir to House Bayern.
Arthur Bayern.
Cain could not hide his shock. Irene, too, collapsed in astonishment.
“B-Brother…?”
So great was her shock she forgot even to breathe.
Watching Arthur, Irene thought,
*Could it really be him?*
It was hard to believe.
He had been missing for seven years.
*Is this an illusion I conjured? A dream born of my wish to escape this engagement?*
That seemed more believable.
Her face twisted as Leon’s words resurfaced in her mind:
*Everything will be fine. Arthur Bayern is alive.*
Her lips parted, and tears streamed down her cheeks.
“…Hhghk. Brother… Brother!”
At her cry, Arthur’s gaze turned toward her, and he smiled brilliantly.
Irene wept aloud. Beside her, a man collapsed to the ground.
“D-dumb… Arthur Bayern?”
It was Bill Dormund, protagonist of tonight’s engagement.
—
—
Bill’s life had been easy.
Born the youngest of the Dormund house, he had lived in luxury, with elder brothers to shoulder all burdens.
He should have drifted comfortably through life, hidden in their shadow, and died in peace.
But all that changed when he met Arthur Bayern.
*“Now, Bill, I’m going to gouge out your right eye. Do endure it well.”*
That madman—once a mute—suddenly became a killer, plucking out Bill’s right eye without warning.
From then on, Bill’s life was upheaved.
Anyone he met triggered screams and trembling. He was plagued by crippling social phobia.
Though he tried to overcome it, he could not.
For who was Arthur Bayern?
The capital’s greatest fool and stutterer—so everyone believed.
Yet suddenly, the mute and fool had stopped stammering and ripped out his eye.
Anyone would have been scarred for life. Bill lived in terror daily.
Seven years ago, word came that Arthur Bayern had vanished.
He had entered Arcane University and disappeared on his way back to the capital.
In that moment, Bill felt the wound on his soul begin to heal.
*That psychotic bastard… good riddance!*
With Arthur gone, fear was replaced by vengeance.
Vengeance for his ruined eye and shattered mind.
And in plotting that revenge, Bill thought of Irene Bayern.
*I’ll make her suffer the same. I’ll give your beloved sister the pain you gave me.*
With that resolve, he slowly readapted to society.
His father Cain, watching silently, engineered meetings with Irene.
And now, today, the engagement ceremony had arrived.
At last, the revenge he had nurtured for ten years would be fulfilled.
Irene Bayern would become his wife.
He would pass his torment onto Arthur’s sister.
The thought made him shudder with ecstasy.
Today would be the most joyous day of his life.
So he had believed—until Arthur Bayern, bloodied, burst through the doors.
“Bill Dormund. It has been a while.”
Bill’s mouth fell open. His body trembled uncontrollably, like a leaf in the wind.
What was this? A dream?
How could Arthur Bayern, missing seven years, stand before him?
*An illusion? A cruel prank?*
No—it was real.
That same smile Arthur had worn as he gouged out his eye ten years ago.
The trauma engraved upon his soul resurfaced. Bill collapsed.
“D-dumb… Arthur Bayern…”
Arthur muttered as he looked down at him.
“So, you laid hands on Irene again, Bill. Truly, trash cannot be recycled. Which means…”
He smiled brightly.
“I’ll take your left eye this time. You’ve no objections, do you?”
Bill’s scream filled the banquet hall.
—
