Help, I'm in Another World and All the Men Are Are So Dangerous! [BL]
Chapter 177: Sylas’s Fury

Chapter 177: Sylas’s Fury

And now, every adult in this chamber was focused solely on one thing.

Crushing him.

"I ask all the noble lords and ladies gathered here today!"

"Can we truly stand by and allow the Di Malvento family to twist the law for their own gain?!"

A loud, speech-like voice echoed across the room.

Rocco could hear the typical jeers of the duke’s followers, the nobles shouting their agreement with things like "Yes, exactly!" It made him unconsciously furrow his brow.

It was surprising to him that this sort of thing actually happened in reality.

"Your Majesty, I, Wimburg Von Jashin, claim custody of my grandson, Rocco Di Malvento! Furthermore, I ask you to declare the execution of the Head of the Di Malvento family, who has committed unspeakable atrocities!"

Rocco was furious.

He almost shouted out, "What is he saying in the midst of all this!?" and felt like punching the man in the face.

However, he clenched his fists tightly, stopping himself.

Still, it was shocking that he was bypassing the old nobleman who seemed to be running the meeting, going directly to the king.

It seemed like this man was far more devious than he’d originally thought.

At this point, Rocco found himself growing indifferent to all the talk of guardianship, blood relations, and the old man claiming to be his grandfather.

All he could think about was how much he wanted to knock the obnoxious man flat.

However, then he looked up and felt a sense of helplessness.

If he let his impulsive feelings show, he’d be scolded again for being foolish...

However, what he saw when he looked up made his mouth drop open in shock.

Sylas, standing next to him, wore a look on his face like Rocco had never seen before—utter, unrelenting rage.

A loud thud rang through the room, filled with anger.

The pressure of the sound made all the nobles flinch, immediately ceasing their jeering and freezing in place.

Rocco, trembling, lowered his gaze as every eye in the room was suddenly on them.

But that gaze wasn’t directed at him.

No, it was aimed at the one responsible for the sound—the person standing beside him.

"...So you think you can sit there and act all high and mighty, just by listening?"

A low, threatening voice rumbled like it came from the ground itself.

The duke, who had been in front of Sylas, went pale upon facing his glare.

The theatrical behavior he’d been putting on immediately disappeared, and he seemed to be visibly trembling in fear.

Rocco, with what little courage he had left, stole a glance at Sylas.

He immediately regretted it.

The fury radiating from Sylas was enough to make him feel like it could kill a man just with a glare.

"We are trying to proceed with the matter of my father’s punishment, among other things. I’d appreciate it if you would stop stirring up the situation and muddling the issue with your false pretenses."

Rocco couldn’t even manage to speak.

The weight of Sylas’s anger was unbearable.

Although Sylas was still using polite speech, the intensity in his voice made it seem like he might suddenly shout "Die!" and shoot a bullet in the next moment.

Rocco turned his head slightly toward Laxus, who seemed to be enjoying the scene.

He could see the Del Fiore father and son both sparkling with excitement in their eyes.

Those two were something else...

Seeing that it seemed unlikely anyone would intervene, Rocco sighed and, feeling there was no choice, tugged gently on Sylas’s sleeve.

"Brother, brother, please calm down. Don’t get angry."

With tears welling up in his eyes, he pleaded, hoping Sylas would return to his usual calm self.

Slowly, Sylas began to calm down, releasing a short sigh.

"...I’m not angry," Sylas said, his voice almost a growl. "Just a little irritated."

Just a little...?

Rocco tilted his head in confusion but decided to keep his mouth shut.

Yeah, just a tiny bit irritated.

That made sense.

With a soft, deep breath, Sylas seemed to compose himself, lifting his head and making it clear that the aura of rage had dissipated.

Rocco noticed the nobles around them exhaling with obvious relief, as if they had been holding their breath the entire time.

"Your Majesty, there is something we must address regarding the Duke’s statement," Sylas continued.

His voice wasn’t so much a request as it was a cold, indirect warning—there’s no room for rejection.

Rocco watched, anxiously waiting to see how the king would react.

After all, he was the king.

Wouldn’t this kind of tone make him angry?

"Mm... ah, yes. Go ahead," came the king’s lackluster response.

Rocco blinked in confusion.

The king’s behavior seemed erratic, his eyes shifting nervously as though he were looking to the people around him for guidance.

What is going on with him...?

Rocco thought, sensing a weak, hesitant energy from the king, like a fragile child unsure of his own words.

Meanwhile, Sylas seemed unsurprised, his words flowing smoothly.

"Your Majesty, let me make it clear from the start—my father’s so-called crimes are completely fabricated. Regarding the grave case of wrongful imprisonment by your royal guard, I will be seeking responsibility for that issue shortly, if that’s alright with you."

"Huh, ah... yes... wrongful imprisonment, you say? Ah, your father’s...?" The king responded distractedly, his tone faltering.

"Yes. We have gathered evidence. The true criminal has already been captured. Furthermore, Di Malvento’s actions concerning Rocco’s guardianship were in response to a serious problem faced by Duke Wimburg, which I will explain here."

"Ah... wait. So, you’re saying... the responsibility for this lies with me?" The king hesitated, clearly flustered. "What if it’s a wrongful accusation?"

"Since the royal guard is under your direct command, Your Majesty, a portion of the responsibility rests with you. But, may I return to my point? I will explain now why Duke Wimburg is not worthy of claiming guardianship."

Rocco felt a strange sense of dissonance, like everything unfolding around him was out of sync.

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