The Master of Language - T.M.L Chapter 42 (Part 2):

Count Furst slowly opened his half-closed eyes and looked at me.

Fortunately, there was life in his eyes.

“Who’s life?”

“Mine, and yours too, Count. And Fabre’s as well.”

Count Furst sighed tiredly, rubbing his temples with one hand.

“Let’s talk about it tomorrow.”

“No. There won’t be a tomorrow. From now on, I need to focus all my attention on preparing for battle. This is the only time I can talk with you.”

Count Furst lowered his hand.

Then, crossing his legs, he spoke in a monotone voice.

“Ran.”

A stern voice.

I looked straight at him and said,

“Go ahead.”

“I was so distracted by outside matters that I didn’t even know what was happening in my own house. I didn’t even know my son was in danger.”

“You’re only human.”

“This incident made me realize clearly. I’m much more incompetent than I thought.”

I thought I understood how he felt.

“You’re planning to serve under Duke Balkan, aren’t you?”

Count Furst didn’t answer. But that silence strongly implied affirmation.

The reason he couldn’t serve Duke Balkan was because he believed his wife had died by his hand.

Now that it’s been revealed that’s not the case, there’s no need to be stubborn anymore.

He slowly moved to pour wine into his glass.

Then he said in a low voice,

“So our lives won’t be in danger. There’s no need to worry.”

Did he think that far ahead?

But there’s something he doesn’t know.

“No. The danger still remains.”

“Why? If I serve under Duke Balkan, he would have no reason to threaten us.”

“It seems Merlin is acting independently, not following Duke Balkan’s orders. No, he is acting on his own.”

Count Furst’s hand paused as he was lifting the wine glass.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m certain.”

“If it’s not because of Duke Balkan’s orders, then the reason he’s moving must be related to magic. Or perhaps personal feelings.”

“That’s right.”

“Then it’s not an issue that concerns me and Fabre.”

The same tone without any change.

But it feels like facing an icy wall.

And Count Furst is looking down at me from atop that castle wall.

What could be the reason for suddenly treating me like this?

The answer came easily.

“You heard, didn’t you? That I let Clark go.”

“The utterly incompetent commander of the knights does one thing well. He doesn’t try to cover up his mistakes. It’s the only reason I tolerated his incompetence.”

Still, he’s not completely incompetent if he noticed that I released the butler.

“I had no choice but to do it to prepare for the coming danger.”

Count Furst took a sip of wine.

“Ran. Let’s be clear. That danger is your danger, not mine and Fabre’s. The moment I decided to serve under Duke Balkan, that danger no longer applies to us. Isn’t that right?”

I looked straight into his eyes.

Count Furst is not the kind of person to abandon someone just like that.

As he said, he probably wants to make things clear.

“You’re right.”

“Then releasing that ingrate who killed my wife was not to save our lives, but just to save your own life, wasn’t it?”

“I got Fabre’s permission. And when I released Butler Clark, I didn’t know that Count Furst had decided to serve under Duke Balkan. I’m sorry that things turned out this way.”

There was no change in Count Furst’s face.

He soon spoke in a low voice.

“Let’s do this, Ran. I’ll help you in every way during this crisis. In return, grant me one request.”

He said request, but this is a deal. He’s drawing a line, reminding me that we’re nothing more than business partners.

Surely he’s not acting like this just because I released Butler Clark.

I composed myself and continued speaking.

“Strictly speaking, wasn’t the danger that came to me in the first place because I helped you, Count? Are we just in that kind of relationship now, where we can clearly divide our responsibilities?”

Count Furst looked at me and smiled gently.

“Ran. You’ve given me countless help. You’ve repaid the debt of me saving you on that ship that day more than tenfold. I’ll be grateful to you for the rest of my life. However…”

“However?”

The Count put down his wine glass.

“I have a bad feeling that if we continue together, the future will be bleak.”

No words came out.

Tens of thousands of thoughts come to mind, but for some reason, I can’t organize them.

“What’s the condition?”

“Take Fabre with you.”

“……”

“It’s already clearly evident that there’s nothing good for him staying by my side.”

“He’s your only son and heir. You’re sending him away?”

He slowly closed his eyes.

Then he said emptily,

“I know how my words sound. But I want to entrust Fabre to you. I hope you understand my sincerity through that. It would be best for him to be apart from me and for you two to be together.”

I want to refute this.

I want to break down his words point by point and shout that each one is wrong.

But.

Although emotions kept rising, I can’t engage in another argument in such an urgent situation.

I shook my head.

I’ll think about it later.

Right now, escaping the danger right in front of me comes first.

I looked him in the eyes again.

“You said you’d help with anything, right?”

The Count nodded.

“Yes.”

I looked straight at him.

“You only need to do one thing for me, Count.”

“Speak.”

“This mansion. Pass it on to Fabre.”

“What?”

He looked at me as if he couldn’t understand.

I took out a document I had prepared in advance from my pocket.

It’s not long, but the content is clear.

It states that exactly eight days from now, at the stroke of the hour, the mansion will be passed on to Fabre.

“You can pass on your noble title, the estate ownership, and everything else to the Duke’s daughter and your new son. But at least this mansion, give it to Fabre.”

Count Furst’s face contorted, and he was about to shout.

But he soon closed his mouth.

He had given his word.

Count Furst soon composed himself and roughly picked up the pen.

“Fine, Ran.”

He signed his name at the bottom of the document.

I gathered the document and turned to leave the room.

Count Furst didn’t say goodbye.

Thud.

The door closed.

I stood there for a long time.

Is he ignoring me?

Does he hate me?

Is he afraid of me?

Is he disgusted by me?

All sorts of negative thoughts rushed into my mind.

But what he said pushed away all those thoughts.

‘I want to entrust Fabre to you. I hope you understand my sincerity through that.’

If he ignored me, hated me, feared me, and was disgusted by me, he wouldn’t entrust his son to me.

Count Furst truly believes that me not being with him is…

“Better for both of us. No, for all three of us.”

I started to walk.

How long and deeply must he have thought alone in that room, in silence?

And what thoughts led him to such a conclusion?

I couldn’t possibly guess.

Maybe I’ll understand when I’m around his age?

At least I can believe in his good intentions, so that’s enough.

I arrived at Fabre’s room and knocked on the door.

Fabre opened the door slightly and smiled brightly.

I said to him,

“I came to see the skeletons you showed me before. I’d like to see them again.”

Dangun

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