The Mad Dog of the Duke's Estate
Chapter 192. Resolution (1)

Chapter 192. Resolution (1)

Just like that, a drinking session had begun.

"Earlier today, you really liked this! What do you think, Leo? Do you like it?" Caron asked.

"Ah, this tastes great," Leo remarked.

"Do you need any snacks to go with it?" Caron asked.

"Can I get some jerky?" Leo asked.

"Sure!" Caron answered.

The sapling of the World Tree had introduced himself as Animos. He smiled brightly as he poured liquor into Caron's empty glass.

"You can just call me Mos!" Animos said.

"Mos?" Caron repeated.

"I like that nickname! Even my grandfather sometimes calls me that. Right, Baltho?" Mos said.

"That's because you begged us to call you that, isn't that right?" Baltho replied with a sigh, following Caron and swallowing his drink.

He seemed surprisingly unfazed, as though he was used to this kind of situation.

"Mos," Caron called the boy's name with a smile.

At that, Mos nodded happily as if content. He answered, "It sure sounds nice. Why did you call for me, big brother?"

"...I don't think anyone's ever called me 'big brother' before," Caron said.

"Really?" Mos replied.

As the youngest of the Ducal Family of Leston, Caron didn't have any younger siblings. He had once asked his parents for a younger sibling, wishing for one, but unfortunately, they never had another child.

"Hmm." Caron nodded while patting Mos' head. "How old are you this year?"

At that question, Mos blinked his eyes in surprise and asked, "You mean you want me to tell you my age by human standards, right? Hmm, by human age... I'm eleven years old."

Mos was much younger than Caron had expected. He'd heard that the elves had settled in the Eastern Great Forest more than a hundred years ago. So he wondered why Mos was only eleven years old.

"The moment I gained consciousness was around that age. Before that, I was just in the form of a tree like that," Mos explained.

"Then, what is your current form?" Caron asked.

"I think it's easiest to consider me a spiritual entity. In human terms... A specter, maybe? I shaped myself with mana," Mos explained.

It was fascinating. Mos could immediately pick up on Caron's thoughts, almost as if he could read his mind.

"Is it because you're the son of the World Tree? It seems as if you even have telepathy," Caron remarked.

"Hehe. Technically, I'm not really a son, but if you want to think of me that way, go ahead," Mos said.

"Then are you a daughter?" Caron asked.

"It could go either way. I don't have a fixed gender," Mos replied.

"Well, that makes sense," Caron said.

As the child of the World Tree, a being called the sacred tree, it would make sense that nothing about Mos was ordinary.

Caron gulped down the rest of his drink, then subtly glanced at Mos. As a result of this turn of events, he'd found the spirit of life. Now, the question was how he could get Mos to the Southern Great Forest.

As Caron fell into thought, Mos gently smiled and said, "Don't worry, big brother. Everything will go exactly as you want it to."

Mos also seemed to have a certain kind of foresight.

Looking back, the High Elder had been surprisingly quick to accept Caron's request for a visit. Given that the city was in crisis due to the war, allowing an outsider in shouldn't have been an easy decision. And yet, the elder had agreed without much hesitation. That could only mean one thing. Mos had to have given him some kind of warning beforehand.

But that led to another question. Caron wondered why Mos hadn't prevented the emergence of the Demon King of Sloth, if he had foresight.

"...It's because I was too weak," Mos admitted. "I'm still not at a high enough level. When beings on the level of a Demon King interfere, it's hard for me to detect," Mos explained.

"Oh, I wasn't blaming you," Caron said.

"Having your thoughts read is such an unpleasant feeling. Don't you agree, Owner?" Guillotine remarked.

Are you introducing yourself or something? Caron thought in response.

Caron didn't fully grasp this concept of 'level', but Mos didn't seem to be making excuses. Caron gave a small nod and tossed a piece of jerky into his mouth.

A moment later, Baltho, who had been silently drinking, spoke up. "The fact that Mos can move in this form... I was the only one who knew until now."

"Well, now we know too," Caron said.

"Indeed. And now, I would like to discuss what we couldn't talk about earlier today," Baltho said.

"Please, go ahead, High Elder," Caron said.

"As you can see, Mos is our guiding pillar. If Mos disappears from this place, we will inevitably face destruction. I want to hear what solutions you have for that," Baltho said. His voice was calm, almost indifferent.

Caron immediately understood that Baltho was prepared to make significant concessions. In the end, their plan couldn't be completed without the High Elder's cooperation.

"I ask that you do not misunderstand what I am about to say," Caron began.

What he was about to propose could be humiliating for the elves of the Eastern Great Forest. But it had to be said.

Caron took another swig of his drink before addressing Baltho. "Before coming here, I discussed this matter with the regent of the Southern Great Forest."

No one knew exactly why the elves of the Eastern and Southern Great Forests had separated in the first place. But one thing was certain. If the elves remained here, they would all die. Demon Kings were relentless creatures, after all.

That left only one solution.

"The regent has agreed to allow the elves of the Eastern Great Forest to return. A rescue fleet is currently on its way across the sea," Caron explained.

That was to migrate to the Southern Great Forest. It was a far more rational choice than allowing the Demon Kings to seize the World Tree's sapling.

"...The regent approved this?" Baltho asked, tilting his glass with a bitter expression. He seemed calmer than expected.

"Yes," Caron confirmed.

The Eastern Great Forest bordered the Eastern Sea.

"I've heard there is a port east of Aileen," Caron added.

"Strictly speaking, it's about thirty minutes from Aileen," Baltho corrected him. "I don't know if you are aware, but elves are not particularly fond of the sea. That port is little more than a token presence."

Baltho let out a small sigh before asking another question. "The southern sea is blocked by nagas. Is this really possible?"

"The nagas have agreed to assist in the rescue operation," Caron replied.

Baltho's eyes widened and he said, "That's hard to believe. The elves of the south despise the nagas even more than we do. How is that possible?"

"The heir of the nagas has willingly become a hostage and is currently residing in Galad. The conflict between the elves and the nagas has ended. The sea route is open to the elves," Caron explained.

He hadn't expected that securing a sea route for the elves would lead to such a ripple effect.

The sea belonged to the nagas. With their support, the rescue fleet from the Southern Great Forest would be able to advance swiftly northward.

"The elves residing in the western regions of the Eastern Great Forest will be aided by the beastfolk," Caron added.

Baltho studied him carefully before speaking again. "So, you did not come here to win the war. That contradicts the rumors."

"What rumors?" Caron asked.

"I heard you were a hero. And don't heroes always wish to win every battle? I assumed you would be the same. I never expected you to suggest an evacuation," Baltho said straightforwardly.

Perhaps the liquor had started to take effect, because Baltho's wrinkled face was tinged with a slight flush. The weight of responsibility as the leader of the elves in the Eastern Great Forest was evident on his face.

Caron quietly studied the old man's weathered features before letting out a bitter smile.

"I don't like losing either," he said. "Especially not to those bastards who call themselves Demon Kings. But, High Elder... What matters more to me than whether I win or lose is ruining their plans. And more than anything else..."

Thud.

Caron set his cup down on the round table, the sound cutting through the silence. Then, in a subdued voice, he added, "I can't just stand by and watch people die meaningless deaths."

"Are you saying fighting for the pride of a race is meaningless?" Baltho asked.

"There is no pride left for those who die here. When you're dead, you're just dead. Pride? That's a luxury reserved for the living," Caron replied.

A memory surfaced in his mind. It was the final moment of his previous life. Halo had begged him to reconsider, yet he'd chosen death anyway.

He didn't regret that decision. After all, it had been his choice. But having experienced death firsthand, he now understood something.

"There's nothing more important than staying alive," Caron stated.

One had to survive. Only then could they seek revenge, or do anything at all. If he hadn't been given this second chance through reincarnation, none of this would even be possible.

That was why Caron spoke with absolute sincerity. "So you should accept my proposal."

"...Some will call this running away," Baltho said. "It may even tarnish your reputation."

The elder didn't hesitate to voice his concern. Seventeen years old was an age when the desire for glory burned the brightest. This was a young man hailed as the heir to his grandfather's legacy—a hero. He wondered if such a person would be willing to bear the stain of retreat.

"High Elder," Caron said, meeting Baltho's gaze. Then, with a wide grin, he nodded and continued, "My reputation crashing into the dirt? That's my dream goal."

"...What?" Baltho exclaimed.

"Does reputation put food on the table? My wish is to give my grandfather more wrinkles on his forehead. So if my name gets dragged through the mud, I'll be the first to celebrate. Haha! Isn't that right, Leo?" Caron remarked.

"High Elder, I apologize," Leon said, sighing. "He's always been like this... completely insane."

"Big brother, you're amazing!" Mos exclaimed.

"Mos," Caron said, ruffling the boy's hair. "Knowing when to let go is what makes a real adult."

"Then... Do you think I can become an adult too?" Mos asked.

"Of course. Just follow my lead," Caron answered.

In an instant, Caron's expression was overtaken by mischief. But Baltho had seen it—just for a fleeting moment, an emotion had flashed across Caron's face.

Could it be regret? Baltho wondered.

Humans lived far shorter lives than elves. Seventeen was still a very young age by elven standards.

The more I see him, the less I understand him, Baltho thought.

Draining the rest of his drink, he slowly nodded and said, "...Tell me what I need to do."

It was, for all intents and purposes, an acceptance of the proposal.

Caron smiled faintly. Pouring more liquor into Baltho's cup, he said, "The Demon King of Sloth is practically at our doorstep, so there isn't much to do. Just hold out until the reinforcements from the Southern Great Forest arrive. And..."

The wine filled the cup with a soft trickling sound. Perhaps it was his imagination, but to Baltho, the deep red liquid looked eerily like blood.

"...Eliminate the traitor among us before they can act," Caron concluded in a voice cold as steel, filling the elder's cup to the brim. He added, "Rotten parts must be cut away. I'll stain my hands with their blood—just tell me what you know."

A cold aura of killing intent began to emanate from him.

***

Meanwhile, beneath a grand mansion in Aileen's luxurious residential district, deep underground...

"Have they sent any word?"

"No, not yet."

"A complication has arisen. Did you not see that human's eyes earlier? He's dangerous. If we're not careful..."

Three elves sat in the dimly lit basement, engaged in a tense discussion. Though their faces were concealed by masks, they all knew one another's identities. The masks were nothing more than a flimsy pretense. Perhaps they were a final grasp at conscience.

"If this continues, our grand plan will unravel."

"What is the High Elder thinking? Elven affairs should be handled by elves."

"The other side won't take kindly to this situation. If things go wrong, this ancient city will be reduced to ruins."

They clenched their teeth at the thought of the human's gaze from earlier in the day.

"Caron Leston. Why has he come here? Could it be that... He's already figured out what we've done?"

"The World Tree's sapling rejected the dark mana, didn't it? There shouldn't be any traces left behind."

"Still... Something feels off. Shouldn't we act now, before it's too late?"

"You mean we should summon them?"

"Yes, if necessary."

They exchanged hurried words, weighing their options.

Had everything gone according to plan, no one would have been harmed. Had fate taken its natural course, all would have been well.

"The dark elves are our kin. If we're to perish meaninglessly here, wouldn't it be wiser to join them and preserve our bloodline for the future? How does the High Elder not see this?" the elf wearing a crimson mask exclaimed in frustration.

Another elf let out a weary sigh and replied, "He's lost his clarity of vision. Fear clouds his judgment."

"We don't have time to hesitate. Let's act before the High Elder falls for that human's words," the elf wearing a crimson mask said.

"Are the troops ready?" another of them asked.

"Of course. If we seize control of the teleportation circle now, the dark elves will take care of the rest..." the elf wearing a crimson mask began, but was cut off.

"The dark elves will take care of what?"

An unwelcome voice interrupted them when they were deep in their scheming.

The elves froze in place. They recognized the intruder. It was the young human they had encountered in the council chamber earlier that day.

"Go on, don't stop. I was enjoying the conversation," Caron said, smiling as his dark blue blade gleamed in the dim light.

With a lazy smirk, he tapped the flat of the blade against his neck and asked in a relaxed voice, "What's with the sudden silence?"

The elves exchanged uneasy glances. They had no idea how this human had found his way here. But one thing was clear: They had been exposed.

Realizing that, the elf in the crimson mask immediately summoned his mana.

But that was as far as he got.

Slash!

A dark blue flash sliced through the air.

And then...

Thud.

The elf's head hit the floor, severed cleanly from his body.

"I'm proud of your thoughts," Caron mused. "If you're planning a rebellion, you should at least have this much resolve. My grandfather led a rebellion with that same conviction, you know? As the descendant of a distinguished rebel family, I acknowledge your efforts. Truly commendable."

Whoosh.

Caron, the youngest grandson of a rebel, grinned as he turned his gaze to the two remaining elves. Then, in a voice dripping with amusement, he said, "I've decided to let one of you live. So... Which one of you should it be?"

He stretched, feigning deep thought, then said, "Honestly, I can't be bothered to decide, so why don't you fight for it? The winner gets to live."

The elves turned to each other, their expressions shifting.

"What's the holdup? The survivor walks free. Or should I just kill you both?" Caron tilted his head. "Oh, and don't use magic, only fists. Now then... Begin!"

Thwack!

Without hesitation, the traitors launched themselves at each other, fists flying.

Caron chuckled as he pulled out a piece of jerky. Nothing paired better with a good fight than jerky.

Oh, right. I forgot to mention that surviving is the real punishment, Caron thought.

Whoever won would soon realize that death would have been the kinder fate. They would beg for death.

But Caron chose to keep those words to himself.

This is a fitting end for traitors who sell out their own kin. Don't you agree, Guillotine? Caron asked internally.

"I wonder what the Demon Kings are doing sitting on the throne. They should give you a seat. Since they're close by, why don't you just drop by and claim your rightful crown?" Guillotine said.

Shut up, Caron thought.

A grin spread across the face of the Mad Dog.