While Arcus was meeting with the adventurers, Catherine Monvoisin was enjoying a long-overdue conversation with her parents.
At first, she had been hesitant.But as she listened to their feelings, she began to regret how she had tried to shoulder everything alone.
(If Arcus hadn't contacted them…)
From her parents' account, the fury of House Monvoisin had been overwhelming—so great that rebellion against the royal family and the central nobility had been seriously considered.
With a single choice, Catherine might have turned her beloved family into traitors.
That realization made her tremble.
And at the same time, her gratitude toward Arcus, who had prevented it, only deepened.
―― You were never abandoned by the world. And you never abandoned it either.
Arcus's words surfaced in her mind.
Just as he said, Catherine's world—her family—had never abandoned her.And she herself had never truly been able to abandon them either.
Embarrassed at how completely he had seen through her, and yet deeply thankful, Catherine continued her quiet conversation with her parents.
She apologized for worrying them.She told them she was doing well.And most importantly—she spoke about Eleonora.
Her parents were naturally shocked, but Eleonora herself had greeted them and sworn, in her own name, that she had no intention of harming Catherine.
By the time her parents had finally begun to accept this irregular existence—
"HARRISON! BRING ME MY WOODEN SWORD!"
A thunderous shout echoed through the mansion, loud enough to make it feel as though the entire building had shaken.
There was no doubt whose voice it was.
Startled, Catherine and her parents rushed out of the drawing room—
—and locked eyes with Alan, who was peeking out from the neighboring room in exactly the same way.
"P-please don't worry about it," Alan said with a stiff smile.
"No. This is clearly not something trivial," Catherine's father—the Marquis of Monvoisin—said, shaking his head as he stepped into the hallway.
The three followed Alan, who looked as though he had already given up, and were soon joined silently by Keith. Together, they exited through the mansion's front doors.
What Catherine saw there—
Was Arcus, glaring straight at a man who appeared to be an adventurer.
☆☆☆
A little earlier…
☆☆☆
"By 'young master,' you mean Lord Arcus, correct?"
At that strange form of address, Arcus reflexively turned around.
At the edge of his vision was Harrison's back, clearly trying to sneak away.
"Hey. Where do you think you're going?"
At Arcus's ice-cold voice, Harrison hurriedly replied,"N-no sir, just heading to the restroom!"—and bolted at full speed.
"…That bastard."
As Arcus muttered, the adventurer—Ian—let out a small sigh.
"We heard quite a lot from Harrison on the way here.That 'our young master is strong like a demon,' apparently."
In Ian's narrowed eyes, one thing was clear: interest.
But Arcus had no obligation to indulge it.
"Harrison exaggerated. That's all."
He shrugged and turned away.
"Are you sure that's fine?"
Ian's taunting voice struck his back.
"What exactly do you mean?"
Arcus turned around slowly.
Standing there wasn't some delicate beauty—but a seasoned, older adventurer.
"If you back down here," Ian said with a grin,"rumors might spread that the Viktor family is spineless."
Arcus felt a flicker of understanding—and even more annoyance.
(So he's interested enough to stir things up.)
A thirst for strength wasn't foreign to Arcus.He understood why Ian was persistent.
And more than that—he knew this situation was partly his own fault.
As Catherine had said, nobles normally didn't bow their heads to commoners.
If a supposedly fearsome warrior turned out to be easygoing in person, it was only natural to want to test the truth.
Still—
Annoying was annoying.
Arcus scratched his head as he noticed the faint trace of mockery in Ian's gaze.
(Just like Catherine said… he's probably half looking down on me.)
Half curiosity. Half contempt.
Arcus let out a long sigh.
Being underestimated himself didn't matter—but having the Viktor household, its people, and their families looked down on?
That was unacceptable.
(Guess I don't have a choice. Just a little warning, then.)
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"You won't regret this?"
"Of course not."
Ian nodded without hesitation.
Arcus smiled.
"Harrison! Bring me my wooden sword!"
The shout was so loud that birds scattered from the trees and the mansion erupted into commotion.
Ignoring the noise behind him, Arcus turned back to Ian.
"A wooden sword…?"
Ian's expression clearly said You're mocking me.
Arcus merely snorted.
They stared each other down—
—until Harrison came running back from afar, wheezing, a massive wooden sword in his arms.
"H-hey! Give me a break! This thing's heavy!"
"Your own fault," Arcus replied flatly, taking the enormous weapon without taking his eyes off Ian.
Calling it a wooden sword was generous—it was essentially a log with a handle.
To Arcus, it was a masterpiece refined through trial and error, inspired by baseball bats and practice swords from his previous life.
To anyone else?
Just a ridiculous lump of wood.
"A… wooden sword?"
"Yes. My personal one."
Arcus casually rested it on his shoulder.
"So? Rules?"
His smile made Ian straighten his posture, though he couldn't suppress the tremor in his voice.
"U-until one of us is incapacitated… or yields."
Arcus nodded.
Ian stepped back, sword in one hand, deliberately not taking a shield.
Confidence—or judgment.
Either way, it didn't matter.
Shield or no shield made no difference to Arcus.
"Harrison. You're the referee."
"Th-this is my life now…" Harrison muttered, stepping between them.
"Rules are simple. No killing. Fight until incapacitation or surrender!"
Both men nodded.
"—Begin!"
The match ended in an instant.
At the signal, Arcus closed the distance in a heartbeat.
His step hit the ground like thunder.
Channeling all that momentum into the log, he brought it down one-handed from overhead—
—and stopped mere centimeters from Ian's head.
The delayed shockwave sent Ian's hair and face whipping violently.
From step to strike—it had taken less than a second.
Ian hadn't reacted at all.
His face pale, he stared at the log hovering before him.
"Well?" Arcus said quietly."Want to keep going? You can grab a shield if you like."
Ian's eyes darted wildly.
His lips trembled.
"…I-I yield."
Arcus laughed, lowering the wooden sword and resting a hand on Ian's shoulder.
"You're lucky," he whispered with a grin."Sometimes… I fail to stop in time."
Ian shook violently, collapsing to his knees.
Arcus handed him off to his companions, bowed politely, and said,
"Well then. I'll take my leave."
(That should keep future adventurers from causing trouble in town.)
Satisfied, Arcus nodded to himself—fully convinced he'd prevented future conflict.
…The fact that he had no awareness he'd gone too far was, unfortunately, another matter.
"Man, young master, that was incredible!"
Harrison approached, rubbing his hands together.
Arcus frowned deeply.
"Harrison. Morning training tomorrow."
"W-WHAT?! WHY?!"
"If you're calling me 'demon-like,' you're not fit to be a Viktor retainer."
"Please spare me!"
"Don't worry. I'll stop properly."
"You literally said you sometimes don't!"
"That was a threat."
Arcus laughed—
—and then froze.
"…Uh. Young master? The ladies were already finished talking…"
"Huh?"
At Rita's voice, Arcus turned around.
There stood his father Alan, clutching his head.
Keith, smiling for some reason.
And Catherine Monvoisin, along with her parents—staring in stunned silence.
"A-ahahaha… how unsightly…"
Scratching his cheek now was far too late.
Under the dumbfounded stares of the Marquis and Catherine,Arcus's shoulders sagged heavily.