Chapter 235 Part 1: The Past That Drifted Away with the Wind
Before the sun went down, Armand arrived at the “old house.”
He led his black horse through the weeds and saw the familiar, worn-down building.
Compared to the homes that nobles live in today, this house looked really old. Everything inside was from over ten years ago. The paint on the outside was peeling, and no one had bothered to fix it. The house wasn’t very big, the weeds had spread everywhere, and the stone path was dusty and grey. It looked more like an abandoned mansion from a horror story.
Armand crouched behind the tall grass and glanced up at the bedroom window, where the curtain was only half drawn.
Then he turned to the black horse and quietly said, “Shh.” He waved his hand to tell it to leave the area for now.
The well-trained horse understood and, taking advantage of the rustling wind blowing through the grass, walked away softly and silently, disappearing from Armand’s line of sight.
Even though the place looked like an abandoned house, there were signs that people were still living there.
Trampled grass, cigarette butts on the ground, empty wine bottles in the corner, and a doorknob that was much cleaner than the rest of the building. These all showed that more than one person was staying here.
Friend or foe? Mercenaries or organized civilians?
Normally, Armand might try to investigate carefully to avoid harming innocent people. But now, clearly, he didn’t have the patience for that.
Whatever the reason, those people shouldn’t be here.
Armand was probably the one with the most right to clear out these rats who had taken over the place. Even if he chopped their heads off, it would still be totally justifiable.
For these people, he didn’t need to wear his heavy armor or carry that large, clunky greatsword. This was the kind of situation that needed a quick, clean fight. Heavy gear would only slow him down.
Even though Armand was the strong type, he preferred fast and smooth fighting rather than heavy, slow movements.
So he just wore his light black coat. He didn’t even bother pulling up the hood. Like that, he walked straight toward the building, bold and confident.
He wasn’t an assassin—
He didn’t need to wait for a dark, windy night to do things.
He didn’t need to sneak in through air vents or windows.
He didn’t have to hang off walls waiting for someone to walk into a trap.
He didn’t need to waste time studying patrol routes.
From the time he was a child, he had been raised as a knight, a warrior.
He didn’t need stealthy footwork or sneaky movement. He just had to do what he was doing now, walk right up to the front door.
He had always walked through the front door, no matter if the people inside welcomed him or not.
A man dressed in black standing in the open yard was easy to spot. As Armand walked toward the door with his sword in hand, a large man who had been guarding the area ran out from the side entrance.
Armand turned his head slightly and gave them a lazy, almost mocking look, that alone made the men boil with anger.
Even though it was obvious from his presence that Armand wasn’t someone they could mess with, these rough thugs couldn’t stand being looked down on like that.
As Armand lightly tapped his iron sword on the ground with a mocking attitude, the man who looked like the leader shouted for his buddies to come out. One by one, big men carrying blunt weapons ran out from the side building.
Armand glanced at the window and guessed that the inside was probably empty now. All the guard dogs had been called out.
That was exactly why Armand had acted so arrogant on purpose. The more he provoked them, the more likely they were to all come out at once. That way, he wouldn’t have to waste time searching through the house for them one by one.
Even though the house wasn’t big, if he had to play hide and seek, it would still take time.
He was already prepared to kill them all. As for the excuse? Let’s just say “they accidentally saw his real face.”
Of course, he didn’t wear the hood on purpose.
He just didn’t like the feeling of being closed in, whether it was a cloak or a helmet.
That feeling of hiding in the dark only made him feel suffocated. Because he knew, he didn’t belong in the dark.
He gripped his sword tightly and looked at the group of "wildcats" huddled together. They were clearly nervous at first, but started gaining confidence just because they had the numbers.
Then, he stepped forward.
At that same moment, Viscount Scassia was still in his bedroom, enjoying a symphony record.
As a noble, he always claimed to enjoy things that "improved one’s taste and manners." He would pour himself a cup of tea, sit on an old but expensive leather couch, cross his legs, and listen to rare symphony records.
Those songs were more than twenty years old and hadn’t been produced in a long time. But in rich circles, there’s a saying, “The older, the more tasteful.”
Of course, Viscount Scassia didn’t really understand music. In truth, listening to too much classical music just made him sleepy.
Still, to make himself look cultured and refined, he forced himself to listen. So that one day, if he ever spoke with a real noble, he’d have something in common to talk about.
As for that old record? It was one of the many things left behind in this house. It didn’t even belong to him.
The place where Viscount Scassia was hiding was once his son’s house, the real home of the actual “Viscount Scassia”.
Normally, this small house wouldn’t suit a knight who had earned a noble title. Just look at Armand, who also earned the same honor. He lived in a huge estate many times larger than this one.
But that small house had once been full of joy. After being knighted, the older son had spent most of his reward money on supporting the family. This house was bought with the leftover savings, and its decorations were done with money that he and his wife had saved together.
You could say, this current Viscount Scassia didn’t pay a single coin for it. But he still shamelessly enjoyed living off other people’s property, or rather off their inheritance.
That brave knight died young on the battlefield. People also said his wife passed away later from deep depression.
But anyone who truly knew that woman would never believe that she would suffer from depression. She had been a strong, fearless knight with fiery red hair, full of passion and strength.
She was Etana Ariel, and she had fallen in love with Adrian Scassia, the eldest son of the Scassia family, during a celebration banquet. It had been love at first sight.
Compared to Adrian, who was shy and unsure of himself because of his background, Etana, who was born into a commoner family, was bold, confident, and lively.
She loved tying her red hair high into a ponytail, wearing her white knight uniform, and riding a white horse. She said it made her look majestic and just as powerful as any male knight.
Because of her strong personality, she had many admirers in the knight order. Some of them were even well-off and good men. But the only one she truly fell for was Adrian. The quiet, awkward guy who hardly ever spoke.
Adrian's journey as a knight was like something out of a feel-good novel. He was originally the unwanted son, since his parents always favored his slightly smarter younger brother.
From a young age, he had to support the family, so he was thrown into the knight order. He went through countless battles and somehow always survived, never losing an arm or a leg. Even though he wasn’t promoted much, his luck in surviving battles made many wounded veterans jealous.
Some knights even wished they could trade their medals just to have their health back.
Later on, this ordinary guy met the love of his life, Etana.
To others in the knight order, Adrian seemed useless except for his good looks. He had no achievements, no family connections, and no special background. So when Etana chose him, the other knights were filled with jealousy.
They all thought they were better than Adrian in every way. But Etana still liked that "fool."
Who would’ve guessed that he’d later become a war hero?
Thanks to his achievements, Adrian was promoted from commoner to noble. Sure, his rank wasn’t high in noble society, maybe even near the bottom. But going from nothing to something proved just how capable he was.
As time passed, he gained respect not only for his strength but for the way others came to trust him. Even the knights who once looked down on him had to admit. Adrian really was a man of great ability.
He didn’t just marry the most popular woman in the knight order. He was also granted a noble title, got his own property, earned recognition from the royal family, and gained respect from everyone. Etana even gave birth to a smart and adorable son for him.
The child inherited the best traits of both parents, and everyone said he would definitely grow up to be a handsome heartbreaker.
Adrian worked even harder in the knight order, climbing bit by bit toward higher ranks. His fellow knights often said that if he kept this up for a few more years, he might even get a chance to sit in the commander’s seat of the knight order.
But his life came to an abrupt end at the age of 30. Actually, he didn’t even reach 30, his birthday was ten days after the day he died.
That year, he left for war in the spring. By winter, news of his death arrived.
Adrian, only 29 years old, closed his eyes forever on a snowy battlefield.
The wife who had been waiting at home for him received nothing but a death notice and a coffin decorated with royal gold patterns.
Because of special preservation chemicals, when Adrian’s body was brought back home, his wife could still recognize his face. He lay inside the velvet-lined coffin, wearing his medals, his expression peaceful.
All the comrades who were still alive came to his funeral.
They sighed that the guy who was always “super lucky” on the battlefield finally ran out of luck. Some knights who had lost their limbs comforted Etana and her 9-year-old son.
They told the child that from now on, he would have to be the man of the house and take care of his mother.
——But clearly, the boy failed to do that.
The child disappeared when he was twelve, as if he had vanished into thin air. He didn’t even attend his mother’s funeral.
The current Viscount Scassia held a rushed and simple funeral for Etana. He didn’t invite any of her friends or family. He just found a hole in the ground and buried her pale, lifeless body in it.
Even the honors and rewards she had earned as a knight ended up being used to support Viscount Scassia’s luxurious lifestyle.
The family of three who once lived in this house… All met tragic ends.
No one knew the details of Etana’s funeral. No one even knew where she was buried. Even the people who had placed her in the coffin… are now nowhere to be found.
After that, Adrian’s father easily took over the noble title, and along with his second son and daughter-in-law, enjoyed the wealth and glory brought by his dead eldest son.
To this day, they still live like that. Enjoying everything earned by others. He felt no guilt at all.
Even the oil painting hanging in the center of the house still showed the happy family of three. He never thought of replacing it.
He felt no shame in his heart.
Because in his mind, he wasn’t the one who started everything. He just borrowed someone else’s light, and when others attacked his son for “political reasons,” he simply gave them a small push.
He gained power.
He gained money.
And because he sold that one and only kid to the House of Nightingales, he got connections with powerful people.
That’s why he now had a way to make deals with the “upper class.”
To him, this kind of life was a great success. He didn’t do much, but everything he did was done at the “perfect moment.”
Now, even though there’s some trouble, it’s nothing big. As long as he hides, he’ll be fine.
“Those people” had also said that he only needed to lay low for a while.
As long as he stayed in this old house that no one had paid attention to for the past ten years,
and waited for everything to quiet down again with time, then he could go back to living peacefully—
“—Viscount!!”
Just as he was lost in his beautiful dream, a scream shattered the peaceful illusion.
Viscount Scassia hadn’t even reacted when a big man, his face covered in blood, slammed open the door and rushed in.
Wood chips from the door flew everywhere, making Viscount Scassia jump in fright.