Transmigrated Into A Tragic Romance Fantasy Chapter 19

༺ Turning the Worst into the Best (3) ༻

  On the night preceding the cohabitation,

  The Head Butler, Rendler, still in shock at his Lord’s declaration of withdrawal and emotional from witnessing him personally packing his belongings, went to the Betrothal Contest’s administration office under his Lord’s order.

  “Here it is, but why would the Lord wish for this all of a sudden……?”

  What Rendler was sent to fetch was none other than the [ Betrothal Contest rulebook ].

  The book contained the rules that those participating in the Contest must follow.

  It was a rather sturdy book, with more than 100 rules detailing moral ethics and laws that participants should not breach.

  Since most items were things most participants would ‘naturally’ do or avoid doing, it was rare for anyone to thoroughly check all 100 rules and regulations.

  After all, it was the butlers who would summarize and inform them of the important parts.

  However, this wasn’t something a participant who withdrew should worry about.

  “Ah, thank you, I have to check something.”

  As soon as he received the rulebook, Elden flipped through its pages with a pen in hand.

  Then, after a while, he stopped.

  Scribble, Scribble-.

  Elden then highlighted and made some notes under Article 12 of the rulebook.

  After reading it one more time, Elden leaned back on his chair, leaving the book on the table.

  While matters such as withdrawals were handled by the Grand Duchy, if there was a point about withdrawal in the rulebook, it could be used as grounds for objection or consideration for approval.

  It was a wise move to always prepare for the worst rather than hope for the best.

  And that was Article 12’s purpose.

  Now, Elden just needed one more thing.

  “Rendler.”

  “Yes, My Lord.”

  “I need to visit 25th street.”

  “Pardon…? My Lord, aren’t you forbidden from leaving the castle after evening?”

  “Exactly. I am forbidden from going out.”

  “Indeed?”

  Elden then rose from his seat, approaching Rendler, and placed his hand on the butler’s shoulder.

  “But you can leave, can’t you?”

  “Y-Yes?”

  “There’s something I need from 25th Street. It’s something vital.”

  “B-But My Lord, that place is a slum. There’s only the black market open at this hour.”

  Elden chuckled a bit before snapping his fingers.

  Snap-.

  It was a crisp sound that pierced Rendler’s ears.

  Because he knew exactly what his Lord meant.

  “That ‘night-time’ black market. You’ll go there on my behalf.”

  “……It’s a dangerous place, My Lord.”

  Fitting for a slum area, the 25th Street was a perilous place.

  And since the black market operated there, all sorts of wicked people wandered about.

  It was truly a dangerous place for an old butler to be.

  But of course, things would be different if he had a sturdy shield to rely on.

  “Then take a guard with you.”

  Ultimately, the old butler had no choice but to obey his Lord’s commands.

  “I understand, My Lord. But what exactly do you wish for me to obtain?”

  The necessary item,

  An item that is only available on the black market. That was why Deron Caelid always carried such an item in secret as depicted in the Novel.

  The wise would prepare for the worst, and with their preparations they would turn the worst-case scenario into the best.

  Moreover, a villain shouldn’t worry about the ‘ethics’ of his preparations.

  An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.

  If one is attacked by cowardly means, one must respond in kind.

  For that purpose, he needed the item that Deron Caelid had kept with him.

  “I need a mana recording device.”

  “……My Lord, why would you need that?”

  Elden answered his butler with a sharp smile.

  “Because I’m done being on the receiving end.”

**

  Deron Caelid was someone skilled in manipulating people.

  He knew the perfect time to dangle a carrot or crack the whip.

  One of his specialties was luring other villains into his fold.

  Moreover, he was adept at extracting their innate wickedness and using it to his benefit.

  Of course, the reason he could do this was because of his place in the social hierarchy.

  After all, he was the second son of a Duke.

  It was all thanks to this talent that he was able to reign as the hidden tyrant of the Royal Academy.

  Kyle Beallon, a capable schemer, adept at sowing discord with his rumors and lies.

  Blund Rosfell, a flatterer who was quite good at acquiring information.

  And lastly, Elden Raphelion, a battle maniac who would happily stain his hands with blood at his behest.

  These different personalities were all brought together under Deron who reigned over them as a Tyrant.

  《Follow me, and I shall grant you the glory of being a top graduate.》

  A villain, by nature, must have an outlet for their villainy.

  His chosen prey had been Erenscia Velroc, someone not accustomed to the noble society, preferring to be alone, and due to her scholarly disposition she was all but assured to graduate from the Academy with flying colors, making her the perfect target.

  It was Deron who found this lady of an obscure family from a border territory and threw her to the wolves.

  He was the Villain of Villains.

  The foulest waste who reigned over the trash.

  That was Deron Caelid.

  As such,

  Good.

  Seeing him take the bait, a smile bloomed on my face.

  Someone who loved to punish his subordinates.

  Thereby preventing other subordinates from making any careless mistakes.

  In the memories of the original Elden, Deron was such a human.

  Deron enjoyed using the whip over the carrot when dealing with the beast known as Elden Raphelion.

  Whoosh!

  Perhaps that was why,

  His old habits compelled him, and Deron revealed his violence in this sacred competition known as the Grand Ducal Betrothal Contest.

  The fury of being insulted by a ‘beast’ drove him mad.

  Of course, this had been my plan since the beginning, the catalyst to turn the worst into the best.

  Thwack-!

  My hand caught his sloppy punch.

  The only reason Elden endured Deron’s ‘whip’ was for the glory of being a top graduate.

  It was merely a way for someone to snatch crumbs under a tyrant’s shadow. However, sadly for him, I didn’t desire anything from him, so there was no need to take his weak punch.

  So, with a wicked smile, I said.

  “Do you think I would let you beat me like before?”

  Deron’s eyes trembled.

  The Tyrant who wished to make an example out of Elden, would now become an example himself.

  “What… what did you say?”

  I released the fist I had caught.

  Kyle and Blund, who had been eager to fight, quickly moved to stand by his side.

  True to their form as his loyal minions.

  Although I wondered how long their petty loyalty would last.

  “Lord Deron! Are you alright?”

  “Elden! Have you gone insane?!”

  I answered Blund’s question as if he had stated the obvious.

  “To survive in this insane world…One must become mad. Besides, it seems people have this annoying fear of having their dreams stolen by a mad beast.”

  I then slipped my hand into my trouser pocket and pulled out a round, flat object.

  “But there’s no need to worry. I keep repeating myself a lot these days, but even if, by some absurd probability, I actually gained the Duchess’s favor, I assure you, I wouldn’t steal your dreams.”

  I have already said this numerous times, but one must repeat something a dozen more times so the deaf can hear it.

  My declaration of withdrawal wasn’t part of a bigger scheme, and even if I postponed it, the result would remain unchanged.

  For a modern person transmigrated into a Medieval Fantasy, the role of a noble son-in-law was more of a prison than a calling for romance.

  Deron, who had been humiliated by his ‘tamed beast’ remained silent as Kyle took the initiative for him.

  “How can we believe that? Your actions speak differently from your words.”

  “Perhaps this might serve as an answer, wouldn’t you think so? Lord Deron?”

  I called Deron out.

  And then, I showed him a round but flat object.

  I waved the item which glowed with a black hue. This item was capable of recording the user’s surroundings just once.

  As soon as they recognized it, the Regretful Trio’s faces paled.

  《Don’t be ridiculous. That disgusting thing being delicious? Even animals wouldn’t consider that food.》

  《Because of the Betrothal Contest, I was forced to tolerate your presence, however, should you mock me one more time, prepare yourself for the consequences. There are no ears here to hear you scream for help.》

  《……You seem to have forgotten your place since the Academy, allow me to refresh your memory.》

  《Whoosh! Thwack!》

  With this,

  It was natural that Kyle and Blund immediately distanced themselves from Deron.

  A villain’s loyalty is like a sandcastle that would crumble with a single wave.

  Putting the recorder back into my pocket, I said.

  “If my declaration was part of a ‘plot’, I would rush to the Advisor and show him this. But I will simply keep this for now.”

  “What? What on earth are you talking about?”

  “As long as you leave me alone, this recording will never see the light of day. I merely ask for your cooperation.”

  Unless my withdrawal was recognized, I had no choice but to stay in Grand Duke’s Castle.

  A social death is inevitable if I suddenly disappear before the end of the Betrothal Contest.

  Especially in this world’s aristocratic society. Not to speak of the power the Winterfell Grand Ducal Family holds. Should the Duke wish for it, he could even wipe out entire Duchies. It wasn’t an exaggeration to think of him as the ‘King of the North’.

  Even the King favors the Grand Duke greatly.

  Since I’ve become the first person in history to withdraw from the Contest, it should be prudent to lay low while waiting for a chance to safely escape.

  There were only 13 days left.

  Only 13 days until I was able to embark on a healing journey, so patience is a must.

  Moreover, the protagonist herself is barring my withdrawal.

  Fleeing now would only reinforce her interest in me and the consequences could cause trouble for my future culinary journey.

  It was not my intention to announce my withdrawal just to commit such foolish acts.

  Now, I merely hoped for the withdrawal to be approved, or for this betrothal to end while I worked on creating the best environment for healing and rest.

  My resolve to leave will not bend, that is for certain.

  Deron finally grasped the situation and spoke up.

  “…All this has gone according to your plan, I see.”

  “Haha. I simply wished to inform you that there is no need to exert yourself in vain.”

  “You mongrel. Have you not thought of the repercussions this could bring to you?”

  Of course, I had already considered the repercussions.

  I smiled in response to the ignorant threat from someone who hadn’t properly read the participation rules of the betrothal.

  “Ah, it seems you have not paid attention to the rulebook.”

  “What?”

  During my first night, I highlighted Article 12 with a pen and even made some stars next to it so I wouldn’t forget.

  “Any retaliation against another participant over the events that occurred during the Betrothal Contest shall be considered an offense against the Grand Duchy of Winterfell, regardless of the motive.”

  I would no longer bow to life’s injustices.

  I would never shed the bitter tears of regret.

  “Are you perchance, unfamiliar with Article 12 of the rulebook?”

  My plan would make sure that I wouldn’t have to suffer a bitter and sad life ever again.

  Now, shall I start enjoying my new life?