Chapter 57

 Missing (1)

The atmosphere in the city of Bern was tense.
The guards had tightened their vigilance, and the mercenaries released by the marquis were combing through the city like hunting dogs.
It was because of the death of Mayor Varis.
The entire city had gone into a frenzy to uncover those behind the assassination.
And it wasn’t only for the sake of public safety.

“You bastard… looking at me like you want to die?!”

In a narrow alley slightly off the main road,
a mercenary kicked a man who was curled up like an insect.

“You, right? You took part in the plot to assassinate the mayor?”

Grabbing the bloodied man by the collar, the mercenary snarled.

“N-no… I-I didn’t… please… spare me… p-plea—ugh!”

The mercenary’s knee slammed into the man’s abdomen.

“Then prove it. Don’t just cling to this city like a parasite—show some sincerity toward maintaining order.”

The man couldn’t even breathe properly, choking and gasping, as the mercenary whispered into his ear.

“Ugh…”

“Hey, can’t you hear me?”

“I-I’ll give it… I’ll give it!”

With trembling hands, the man fumbled through his clothes and pulled out a pouch of money.

“This… is a voluntary contribution to the City Council for maintaining public order, right?”

The mercenary snatched the pouch and counted the silver coins inside.

“Y-yes?”

“No?”

“Y-yes! That’s right!”

The man nodded frantically, nearly in tears.

“Good. Then, on behalf of the great families of the City Council, I’ll express our thanks.”

The mercenary lightly patted the man’s cheek before leading his group deeper into the alley.
The man could only stare blankly at their retreating backs.

***

“What are you doing, Herman. Let’s go.”

From a distance, Wolfgang nudged Herman’s side as they watched.

The two were the sons of Madam Randolph, returning after washing bedding from the inn.
Fortunately, no one bothered them.
That was thanks to the reputation of Randolph, a quasi-noble.
Among the city guards were those who had served under him when he was a company commander, and some who owed him their lives.
Because of that, Randolph’s family was considered untouchable by the guards.
Even the mercenaries hired by the marquis avoided picking unnecessary fights, allowing Madam Randolph and her children to settle in Bern without trouble.

“Brother… what would Father have done?”

To nine-year-old Herman, the scene was incomprehensible.

“Father would’ve saved that man. But we can’t.”

At Wolfgang’s words, Herman tightened his grip on the laundry tub.
But nothing changed.

All Herman could feel was that he was just a powerless child.

“Did Father really want us to become merchants?”

“That’s what Uncle Carlson said. He wanted us to see a wider world… to live a life not tied to the land.”

“Do you want that?”

“If I can.”

“Then… I still want to become a knight.”

“…Yeah. You can do it.”

Wolfgang affirmed Herman’s resolve.
Not because he truly believed it—but because he wanted to get his stubborn younger brother back to the inn quickly.

For some time now, adults had been following them.
A middle-aged woman in a nun’s habit and two armed men.
At first they tried to be discreet, but now they were openly watching Herman and Wolfgang.

While Herman burned with a sense of justice,
they slowly approached the boys.

“Children, you’re Madam Randolph’s sons, aren’t you?”

The nun spoke gently.

“Yes… why?”
Wolfgang asked cautiously.

“I thought so. I take care of children at the House of Mercy. Oh—it’s a large orphanage over there.”

Smiling warmly, she explained kindly to the puzzled boys.

“Madam Randolph has been sending food to our orphanage. I’d like to repay her kindness. If it’s alright, could you deliver something for us? If we go ourselves, she might feel burdened.”

The riveted glasses she wore were somewhat unusual, but there was no malice in her face.
Her expression was gentle.

“…So you need our help?”

“That’s right. I’d like to ask you a favor.”

“Okay. We’ll help.”

“Herman!”

Just moments ago feeling powerless, Herman quickly nodded.
Wolfgang had no time to stop him.

***

“Then I’ll just drop off the laundry tub first—”

“That won’t be necessary. One of our brothers will take care of it.”

One of the sword-bearing men stacked their wooden laundry tubs together and strode off.

“Ah, that’s not the way to the inn—”

“You haven’t been here long, have you? That way is a shortcut. Leave it to him, and you two follow me.”

The nun, still smiling, took the lead.
Herman followed her without hesitation.

Wolfgang felt uneasy, but he couldn’t leave Herman behind and return alone.
Besides, there was something strangely reassuring about her smile.

“By the way… you two are quite beautiful.”

The head nun murmured as they walked along the road.

“What should we do?”

“Leave them.”

“…What?”

“I said, leave them.”

Isaac drained his wine glass as he spoke.
Bill looked confused.

Rumors about Isaac were spreading among the servants—
not a single one favorable.
Only bad, and worse.

And yet Isaac didn’t get angry about it. He told them to leave it be.
In fact, he even went further.

“Why don’t you add a word or two yourself? You’re good at gossip, aren’t you?”

“…Are you serious, or joking?”

“I’m serious. Do you know what my nickname was in Vinfelt?”

“What was it?”

“Frost Demon. Hard to get worse than that.”

“Still… that sounds better than ‘mad dog,’ doesn’t it? …Or maybe not.”

Isaac shot him a glance, and Bill immediately backed down.

“Anyway, let them talk all they want.”

***

There were three reasons Isaac returned to the estate.

First, to save Bern and secure Goethe’s independence from the marquis.
Second, to obtain a large supply of farming tools needed for cultivating Vinfelt.
Third, to distance himself from the position of heir.

The first and second naturally went together.
If he saved Bern and took control of all markets—both above and underground—it would be easy to secure high-quality iron and skilled blacksmiths.

But the third required some care.

From the royal family’s perspective, his peculiar constitution was practically a disaster.
A first son whose abnormal trait never blossoms, withers, and fades into obscurity in Goethe’s history.
And the second son, Jonas, becoming the heir.

That was the picture Isaac intended to paint.

If things went that way, the royal family would lower its guard against Goethe, and Goethe could focus on development for the time being.

To achieve that, Isaac had to erase “Goethe” from the name Isaac von Goethe.
He had to become a hopeless wastrel.
Even if he didn’t truly become one, he had to appear that way.

A reckless degenerate, intoxicated by arrogance and laziness after discovering some talent in swordsmanship.
A cruel man who had even resorted to torture in the estate’s underground.

Yes… he could become a far more convincing wastrel.

“Are we really just leaving them?”

“Yeah. I said so.”

Bill, who had no way of knowing Isaac’s true intentions, found it hard to accept.
Most nobles were desperate to build a good reputation—so why would someone willingly invite slander and accumulate infamy?

Yet instead of answers, he was left with even more questions.

“Enough about that. Go bring Enette.”

“…Pardon?”

“Enette. Do I have to repeat myself?”

“Y-you mean the maid?”

Enette was one of the three maids who had nearly been sold to the Niers organization.
She was also the only one who had comforted Isaac—who, in his previous life, had killed Hans and his nanny in a mana explosion.

—

“You won’t be able to undo it or erase it. It’ll follow you for the rest of your life like a brand. There are two choices. Either suffocate under the guilt… or struggle to live for their sake as well.”

—

She had spoken calmly, without wavering, without fear, to a despairing Isaac.
It was both compassion and courage.
Comfort from someone who had also lost friends due to her own mistakes.
In her previous life, she had been kidnapped along with other maids by a gang—and was the only one to return alive.

‘If I teach her from now, I can use it when the time comes.’

Until word arrived from the Weissman side,
Isaac intended to teach her magic.

He couldn’t hide his use of magic forever.
If Enette became a mage and built a reputation, then one day—when Isaac used high-level magic—he could put her forward as his proxy.

The time when he would need to use powerful magic wasn’t far off.
He needed to prepare in advance.

Fortunately, Enette had talent for magic.
And the vessel that held her mana was quite large.

If she could learn magic and live a better life,
his conscience would feel lighter.

At least, that was what Isaac thought.

Of course, the fact that he was teaching her magic must never be revealed.
If anything, a scandal would be preferable.

“And when you come to my room, make sure you’re wearing makeup.”

“…Makeup?”

Bill’s puzzled expression slowly turned suggestive.

“Ah… so it’s about time. As expected, young master, you are a man after all. Though your taste is a bit… unique.”

“Stop talking nonsense.”

“Shall I bring her now?”

“Yeah.”

After Bill left, Isaac emptied another bottle of wine.
There were already five or six empty bottles on the desk.

“…Women might work too.”

At twelve, it was a bit early to be interested in women—but not unusual.
Noblewomen often married around that age.

Arrogance, laziness, cruelty, and indulgence in women.
A perfect combination for becoming a degenerate

“You called for me, young master.”

Enette knocked and entered Isaac’s bedroom.
She had done her makeup, just as instructed.
Though she might have had reason to doubt his intentions, her expression remained calm.

“It’s been months since I’ve seen you in this bedroom.”

As she said, it was her first time entering this room since he had rescued her from the Niers gang.

“You’ve changed so much… I wouldn’t even recognize you outside.”

“You’re the only one who says that.”

“It’s true. You’re also the one who saved our lives.”

“…Hilde and Clara are doing well?”

“You even remember their names. Yes—they’re still as immature as ever.”

Enette let out a soft sigh, but a faint smile lingered on her lips.
Unless they had a special relationship, how many noble youths would remember each maid’s name?

He was still the same young master she knew.

“I’ll ask just one thing. If you don’t want to, I won’t force you.”

“…Yes.”

“Once I’m done here, I plan to return to Vinfelt. When that happens… would you come with me?”

“…If you need me.”

Enette tried to hide the tremor in her voice.
Depending on how she interpreted it, Isaac’s words could completely change her fate.

“Vinfelt is harsh land. It’ll be much harder than working here in the estate.”

“If it weren’t for you, young master, I would’ve been sold to a slave trader… and could’ve died at any time.”

Enette looked at Isaac, her resolve firm.

Isaac offered no excuses or explanations regarding the rumors spreading through the estate.
And yet she looked at him as if she had never heard any of them.

Her gaze did not waver.
A gaze too precious for a mere maid.

“…Alright. Then lie down on the bed.”

It was a command without preamble.
Enette followed without hesitation.

“Should I take off my clothes?”

“If it’s uncomfortable, take them off. You don’t have to.”

Enette removed her maid uniform, leaving only her chemise, and lay on one side of the bed.

Isaac stared out at the courtyard beyond the window.
Despite how much his body had matured, he was still an inexperienced boy.
Enette assumed he was simply embarrassed.

“Close your eyes.”

As instructed, she closed them.

Her heart seemed to beat a little faster.

When Bill had delivered Isaac’s summons, Hilde and Clara had filled her head with all sorts of wild imaginings.
Being told to wear makeup and come to his bedroom made the intention seem obvious.

Though she didn’t show it, her thoughts were in turmoil.

It wasn’t uncommon for noble youths to use servants to satisfy curiosity and desire.
But she had never thought she would be the one chosen—
nor that the noble in question would be Isaac.

***

Though Enette was older than Isaac, she was still only sixteen.
An adult, yet still young enough to be called a girl.
She had spent her life moving between households, working only as a maid.

Her knowledge of men came only from the stories of Clara and Hilde.

What kind of feelings did Isaac hold toward her?
And what did she feel toward him?

From her perspective, Isaac was someone to revere—
not someone she could stand on equal footing with.

What meaning would this moment leave in her life?

Her heartbeat quickened further.