A Mage Reborn: Legacy of the Fallen Emperor
Chapter 78: Strange Behavior

Chapter 78: Chapter 78: Strange Behavior

Count Mereloff was poring over the documents. The frantic pounding of footsteps shattered the silence of his study. Before he could even lift his head, the butler burst through the door, his face a mask of panic. The man always knocked, treating formality like a sacred law. A very bad sign.

"What is it?" Mereloff asked sharply.

"M-My Lord! Disaster has struck!"

"Word came from the trade caravan... All the wagons have been burned to ashes."

"What?!" Mereloff shot to his feet, his mouth gaping in disbelief. How in the blazes could the wagons...?

"A man named Colin set fire to the wagons, My Lord, and tried to kill everyone. It seems he was after the gold the guards were carrying. He died while our men were trying to stop him."

"That pittance of gold? What madness is this?"

Most of the transactions were handled through Hyman’s Bank, with checks and promissory notes. The gold those guards carried wasn’t the payment for the goods—it was just petty cash for the journey.

"To commoners, it is a large sum, My Lord."

"And? So what? What am I supposed to do about it now?"

"The wagons are completely destroyed, and there are reports of injuries—men who inhaled smoke inside the cave. A messenger bird arrived saying they’ll head to Sheiron first, but there’s no telling how long it will take."

And that wasn’t the end of it.

With the wagons gone, they’d need to find replacements to transport the food. Setting aside the cost, it was doubtful they could even find any this late in winter. Every scrap of wood was being used for fuel.

"...Ha. Hahaha. Ha!" Count Mereloff let out a series of short, bitter laughs.

"I knew that Colin was trouble. If the caravan goes to Sheiron, they’ll incur even more expenses. Wouldn’t it be better to order them back, My Lord?"

They couldn’t just sleep on the ground or live on water alone. And with the injured, they’d need a physician.

Mereloff pressed a hand to his forehead, groaning.

’Worst. Year. Ever.’

"...Why fire of all things!"

Crash!

Count Mereloff, unable to contain his rage, grabbed the nearest object and hurled it across the room.

And out of all those men, not a single one could stop him? Were those living under the Mereloff name such a pathetic rabble?

Indeed.

The incompetence hidden beneath the veneer of peace had reared its ugly head, seizing upon this crisis. The state of the Mereloff household was truly... a disaster.

"Colin’s family. Kill them all."

"...Yes, My Lord."

"That wretched family, seize everything they have. Every last scrap. Man, woman, and child—string them all up. Kill them, kill them all..."

The relentless string of misfortunes was suffocating. The burned wagons were bad enough, but now he was reduced to worrying about his next meal. If Sheiron and the Hawan Kingdom couldn’t provide, only one option remained...

Thump! Crash!

"Damn it! What in the hell is going on? Do I need to consult an oracle? Huh?!"

"Aaaah!"

Count Mereloff slammed his fist on the table, then, out of habit, grabbed the hair of the servant standing nearby. He vented his fury with all his might.

The servant’s emaciated body swayed back and forth, but the butler could only lower his eyes and remain silent.

"I’m s-sorry, My Lord. I’m sorry."

"Haaa. Really, Butler. I told you to choose people more carefully!"

"...Please, spare me!"

Smack!

The butler bit his lip, bowing low. If he didn’t appease the Count’s anger somehow, an innocent child might pay the price today.

"Get out."

"M-My Lord."

"Go and kill every last one of those bastards with Colin’s blood!"

Creeeak.

The servant’s hair was tangled in Count Mereloff’s grasp. The butler had no choice but to back away, exiting the office. The servants waiting outside the door looked up at him, their faces pale with fear.

"B-Butler."

"Everyone, step back. You’ll get caught in the crossfire."

"W-What about him?"

"Shhh. Do you want to be punished as well?"

Fear flooded the servant’s eyes at the butler’s words, deepening the tears that welled up. The servants hesitated, pretending not to hear the screams coming from inside the office.

Tap. Tap.

The clear sound of heels echoed, like a crack forming in the icy atmosphere. The butler and the servants turned their heads simultaneously. Countess Mereloff stood there, her expression calm.

"What are you all doing?"

"M-My Lady..."

Crash! Thump!

Instead of answering, the Countess glanced at the noisy door. Then, she looked at the butler and let out a faint sigh.

"Open the door."

"My Lady, n-now is not..."

"It’s fine. Open it."

The Countess lightly pushed aside the servants who tried to stop her. Her eyes were resolute yet infinitely calm, and the servants couldn’t dare to guess her intentions. This had happened many times before, whenever servants had met their end.

"Hngh..."

"Do I have to open it myself?"

When one of the servants couldn’t hold back his tears, Countess Mereloff gave him a sharp glance.

In the end, it was the butler who reached for the doorknob.

Creeeak.

The door slowly opened. A bloodied servant lay prostrate on the floor, and blood splattered the wooden furniture. Countess Mereloff raised her head high and entered with an air of authority.

"Husband."

At her call, the Count turned around, panting.

He had beaten the servant so badly that sweat was dripping from his hair. The servant kept desperately rubbing his palms together.

"Let that child go."

"Hngh... S-Spare me... please..."

"Play with me instead."

A radiant smile bloomed on the Countess’s previously emotionless face. She tilted her head slightly and met the butler’s eyes, who was standing by the door. The servant seized the opportunity and quickly crawled out.

’Close the door.’

Creeeak.

Light seeped through the slowly closing gap. The butler, as always, felt a heavy weight in his heart as he closed the door.

Countess Mereloff gently took her husband’s hand and made a suggestion.

"My dear, instead of this, why don’t you ask Bratz for help?"

But the wild, panting breaths of her elderly husband, flashing with madness, did not easily subside. She whispered again, softly.

"If it’s too much for your pride, I’ll go and talk to them. We’re around the same age, and wouldn’t it be better for both of you if I went instead of you?"

"You?"

"Yes. Leave it to me."

Count Mereloff grabbed his wife’s flowing hair, growling. The woman’s expression was, as always, serene.

"You’re not planning to run away, are you?"

"Of course not. How could I?"

At his wife’s calm words, the Count roughly shook her hair. Her gaze was fixed on the full moon, shining brightly behind her husband.

Four days later, Countess Mereloff arrived at Bratz. Ian, having received advance notice, was waiting for her at the mansion’s main gate. As the carriage door opened, a woman in luxurious traveling attire emerged, smiling and extending a hand.

"Welcome, Countess Mereloff. It’s a pleasure to see you."

"Ian, oh, forgive me. I almost made a mistake right off the bat. I should call you Viscount Ian now, shouldn’t I?"

"Was the journey difficult?"

"Not at all. Are we such strangers?"

Countess Mereloff subtly reminded him of their proximity as neighbors. Ian smiled without answering and led her to the drawing-room.

"I was honestly a little surprised to hear you were coming, My Lady."

"Both the Count and I were concerned that we hadn’t properly congratulated you on your appointment. It weighed on our minds."

The Countess removed her thick coat and handed it to a servant. Her nose was slightly red, suggesting the carriage had been cold.

"Please, don’t mention it. I understand you’re busy with your duties."

"Thank you, Viscount Ian. The Count wished to come as well, but, as you said, he simply couldn’t find the time."

"You were kind enough to send a gift."

Ian subtly mentioned the Dripper.

"It’s such a valuable item; I’m not sure I’m worthy of it."

Was it possible they knew the Dripper’s true value? Or was this, as he suspected, a deliberate attempt to insult him, and he’d taken the bait?

Ian carefully observed the Countess’s expression, but she only offered an enigmatic smile.

"Was it perhaps a bit... unconventional? I did suggest something else, but the Count insisted it would be of great use to you, Viscount Ian. What do I know? The Count insisted..."

’Her origins might be unknown, but she’s certainly a noblewoman now.’

What an absolutely infuriating way of speaking.

The Count’s insistence implied the item’s value, but if Ian didn’t appreciate it, it was his lack of discernment that was at fault. Classic passive-aggression.

"Not at all. I’m delighted with it. You’ve given me something truly extraordinary."

This wasn’t mere politeness; he genuinely was pleased. Judging by its condition, it seemed to be a newly developed model. Where else would he find something like this?

The Countess smiled faintly and nodded.

"I’m glad to hear you say that. The Count will surely be pleased. We’ve prepared another gift as well, so please look forward to it."

"I’m honored, My Lady."

"But, Viscount Ian, the reason I’ve come today..."

Countess Mereloff trailed off. Ian had naturally assumed they would discuss the Gulla trade. But what came out of her mouth was something he hadn’t anticipated at all.

"I’d like to have a look at Lady Mary’s room. You see, didn’t I mention it before? I lent something to Lady Mary and never got it back."

"Ah."

Ian paused, surprised. The Countess’s eyes sparkled—a plea for his permission. And, it seemed, a hope that Ian hadn’t cleared out Mary’s room. Normally, one would have completely overhauled the room of a condemned stepmother...

"Please, be my guest. It’s your belonging you’re looking for; how could I refuse? I’ve been so busy that I haven’t touched that room. If Lady Mary had it, it should still be there."

He’d kept the room as it was due to the strange behavior of the two Countesses, though, to be more precise, he hadn’t paid it any particular attention.

The instant Ian granted his permission, Countess Mereloff sprang to her feet and urged the servant on.

"Then it’s best to get this done first."

"I’ll show you the way."

"Will you be joining me, Viscount Ian?"

"Yes, of course. I’ll help you look. If you’ll just tell me what it is."

At Ian’s words, Countess Mereloff’s face stiffened slightly. But it was so subtle that Ian wondered if he’d imagined it, and he watched her expression even more closely. The way she held her back straight as she walked was the epitome of elegance.

"This way, Countess."

The servant respectfully guided Countess Mereloff and Ian. The room at the end of the hall, directly below the office. The firmly closed doorknob turned, and the distinctive smell of an old mansion wafted out.

"I had it cleaned, but since it hasn’t been used, there’s a strong smell of wood. I’ll air it out immediately."

Thud.

A gust of cold air entered through the window, but Countess Mereloff didn’t seem to mind. She carefully looked around the room, then began searching through the drawers and wardrobe. Ian watched her from a respectful distance.

"My Lady, if you tell me what you’re looking for, I can have the servants assist you."

"No. It’s something that shouldn’t be handled by others."

Rustle.

Countess Mereloff’s hands moved swiftly through the clothes. Fine and colorful fabrics were quickly pushed aside on the hangers, but it seemed she couldn’t find what she was looking for.

"Viscount Ian."

"Yes, My Lady?"

"I apologize, but could you please step outside for a moment? I need to look in a more... private area. I’ll let you know when I find the item."

The Countess was pointing to a chest of drawers where undergarments were kept. Ian gestured to the servant to keep watch and left the room without a word. Countess Mereloff waited until the door was completely closed before resuming her search of the drawers.

"E-Excuse me, Countess... Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Open every drawer. Every single one. I’ll search myself."

The Countess rummaged through a drawer, then suddenly stopped and muttered something under her breath. The servant flinched at the cold, cruel expression reflected in the vanity mirror.

She seemed to be deep in thought for a moment, then began to frantically tear through the drawers once more.