Chapter 252: A New Appointment

“The hardest thing?”

Hearing Aldrich III say that, Muen couldn’t help drifting for a moment.

It was indeed hard.

Because thinking back on the road he had walked, everything he faced was nothing but the most terrifying things in this world.

The Corrupted Love God.

The Withering King.

The Silent Moon.

Evil Gods that most people might never brush against in their entire lives were crowding around him as if drawn by a magnet.

And even now, when the great curtain seemed about to fall, he could only say he had gained a little temporary respite. What the future would be like—no one could say.

“But... I can only keep moving forward, can’t I?” Muen smiled and said so.

“...”

Aldrich III looked deeply at Muen, fell silent for a moment, then suddenly said:

“Then get lost.”

“Eh?”

“I said you can get lost now.”

Aldrich’s face was expressionless as he said:

“I’ve said all I needed to say. Do you still plan to stay for dinner? Let me remind you, brat—though I’m a very unqualified father, I am absolutely sick of that scumbag face of yours that’ll probably make a swarm of young ladies swoon!”

“...”

Muen’s mouth twitched hard.

When he came in just now, he was “the Campbell kid.” Now that the probing was done, he was “brat.” Tell me, who’s the real scumbag here, huh!

“Then I shall take my leave, Your Majesty.”

Muen placed a hand to his chest and bowed with respect, then turned to go.

Only, the instant he stepped out of that room, Muen seemed to hear a barely audible murmur from the Emperor.

“Muen Campbell, becoming my daughter’s husband is not that easy.”

“...”

...

After Muen left.

Aldrich III still stood with his hands behind his back, quietly watching that setting sun sink completely beneath the horizon.

The world gradually fell into endless night. Stars flickered upon the firmament, and a vast silence drowned the man who stood as still as a statue.

“Come catch me.”

“Haha, you can’t catch me, can’t catch me...”

The sudden clamor rode in on the wind and broke Aldrich’s contemplation. He knew it was his eldest son, whose mind had never been quite right since childhood, horsing around with a handmaid again.

Carefree.

Out of place.

“How long until Celicia’s birthday?”

In this room that seemed to hold only him, Aldrich suddenly asked.

“Your Majesty, eight months and thirteen days,” came a hoarse voice from the shadows.

“Eight months?”

Aldrich lowered his head and looked at the myriad lights gradually kindling across the city. In his deep eyes there finally flickered a light whose meaning was hard to read.

“A bit too long.”

He let out a long sigh, drew his hands back into his sleeves, and covered the cracks on his wrist—cracks exactly like those on the railing he had crushed earlier—which even Muen, who had stood so close just now, had failed to notice.

...

...

“Ha... as expected of His Majesty. What pressure.”

Walking along the corridor, only after he had moved beyond the sightline of those two Imperial Guard knights did Muen finally let out a long breath.

It had clearly been just a conversation, yet it was more exhausting than fighting a great battle.

It made Muen marvel: when it comes to the ability to make someone’s legs go weak, you father and daughter really are equally outstanding.

Thinking that, Muen suddenly staggered a little, his face going pale as waves of emptiness rolled through his body.

Only then did he remember that for this entire day, aside from Anne’s Perfect Ten Nourishment Soup, he hadn’t eaten «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» anything.

Mm, maybe he’d had a little chocolate last night, but compared to what he’d burned through these days, that was a drop in the bucket.

Hungry, hungry.

A pity no sugar mama had given him any food.

“In a palace this huge, they won’t even give you dinner. Stingy to the bone.”

Muen muttered once, then quickened his pace, intending to get out of the palace and hunt down food.

But just then, he heard someone call him.

“Young Master Campbell.”

He turned his head on instinct and saw the middle-aged man he’d met briefly earlier—the one who had come out of His Majesty’s room—standing at the bend of the corridor, as if waiting for him on purpose.

“You are...”

That sense of familiarity surged up again, yet Muen couldn’t recall from where.

“Young Master Campbell really is a man of lofty connections who forgets easily.”

The man smiled, removed his top hat, and bowed:

“I am Shaun Jones, a humble baron. I once had the fortune of being invited by Duke Campbell to the ducal estate to attend your coming-of-age ceremony. We met then.”

“Oh, it was you!”

Muen suddenly remembered.

No wonder he looked familiar. When he was greeting guests at the ceremony, he had indeed seen this baron.

At the time, his cheap father had even gone out of his way to mention him—saying this Shaun Jones was...

Gold buried by rank.

Right, that was exactly how Father had put it, with a note of sentiment. Because it was rare to see that kind of wistfulness on that lion-like man’s face, Muen remembered it quite clearly.

Thinking of this, Muen arched a brow and looked at Shaun:

“Baron Shaun, your audience with His Majesty just now was because...”

“His Majesty merely entrusted me with a few instructions.”

The man, temples already going gray, held his top hat and suddenly grew a bit animated:

“Untalented as I am, I have just been personally appointed by His Majesty as the new Administrator of the Lower City.”

“Administrator...”

Hearing that, Muen couldn’t help freezing up a bit.

Shaun Jones?

A baron?

One had to know that the previous holder, Goun, had already struck many as unbelievable for becoming the Lower City’s Administrator as a viscount.

Although that post was neither high nor low and came with no end of headaches, in the past it would never have been a seat a mere baron could...

Unless...

A realization washed over Muen. Connecting it with earlier matters, he suddenly understood...

For those noble factions, His Majesty hadn’t merely thrown a heavy punch this time—he’d followed with a full combination, each blow landing flush on the seven-inch vital spot.

No wonder those people were in such a hurry.

“Congratulations. It seems His Majesty has finally panned some gold.”

Muen smiled and said:

“Father once praised your excellence. With your ability, I imagine you truly can pull Belrand’s Lower City out of chaos.”

“No, the fact that I can stand here today is entirely thanks to the Duke’s support.”

Shaun’s gaze burned. “If not for the Duke, I fear I would still be wasting my time somewhere. So...”

“Eh.”

Muen lifted a hand to cut him off.

“The premise of anyone supporting you is that your ability is outstanding enough. You don’t need to belittle yourself over that. Father is not at home at the moment—if you have words of gratitude, save them for when he returns. For now, you need only do your job well. There’s no need to say more.”

“This...”

Shaun was taken aback. The heat in his eyes gradually faded as he began to regard Muen with a solemn gaze.

After a long moment, he let out a long breath and sighed:

“I knew it—the son of that Duke could not possibly be as disgraceful as the rumors say.”

As he spoke, Shaun even gnashed his teeth a little:

“Those damned nobles with lard for brains—when it comes to smearing the Duke, they really spare no effort!”

“...”

The corner of Muen’s eye twitched imperceptibly. Back then, they hadn’t exactly smeared him. It had been... fact.

“I haven’t really done anything.”

Muen maintained his perfect smile. “I’ve only done what a duke’s son ought to do.”

“As expected of you.”

Shaun sighed:

“You truly are cut from the Duke’s same—”

He was cut off by a clear gurgle.

Muen’s smile froze; a faint flush climbed his cheeks.

Baron Shaun also paused, glanced at Muen’s stomach, then chuckled and set his top hat back on:

“Idle talk should be kept short. But to celebrate my appointment, I had reserved a table at a certain restaurant earlier—and I was fretting over finding company. Would Young Master Campbell deign to accompany me?”

“How’s the restaurant?”

“It has a good reputation; I hear the head chef hails from the palace. Not only that—tonight a famous beauty of a violinist will be performing there.”

Muen’s eyes lit up, but he immediately schooled his face and said:

“Since the chef hails from the palace, I suppose I have no choice but to sample a dish or two.”

“Haha, of course. Please—”