The price of a failure who sold even his future had to be cruel.
‘Though for that, it might have been cheap…’
Ieund Owen, who had staked his future on the Duke of Gisert’s household, was trapped in a tall, narrow room, unable to see or feel anything.
He couldn’t know how things were unfolding outside or what changes were occurring.
But from within, he had his suspicions.
‘Since that Gisert bastard sold me out… the victory belongs to Ofern.’
He had not missed a single word of the occasional chatter from the guards stationed at his door.
-They say they completely pushed out Gisert.
-Did they take Helk Castle too?
-I hear they’re planning to give it back, though. But it won’t be easy.
-They’ll get something in return. Anyway, taking Helk would only increase the places they have to guard, right?
-That makes sense. They’re trying to turn a profit. Besides, Helk… it would be hard to rebuild.
-I see.
Every bit of it was valuable information.
Too deep for mere guards to know.
It was obvious why such information was reaching him.
‘He wants it this way.’
Rayrn Ophern. Barely a few years younger than himself, just approaching adulthood.
He must have instructed the guards to let him hear these things.
As if to make him fully realize his defeat.
To let him know that even after selling his future, he had failed.
The constant stream of information only brought him news that was never to his advantage.
‘I sold my future to the wrong side.’
If he had sold his future to Ofern instead of Gisert—
Even if he couldn’t inherit the title of Marquis Owen’s House, he might have secured a corner of the territory under the name Ieund.
A small territory would have been fine.
Because with even that foundation, he believed he could succeed.
But…
‘…He’s different.’
The one time he had seen Rayrn before being confined here—
He had felt it then. The difference in caliber.
That he, who thought the world was small, had been mistaken about the world itself.
The world was far wider than his younger self had perceived, and there were clearly those superior to him. Rayrn was one such person.
He had sensed it instinctively.
Yet, just because he instinctively felt that difference didn’t mean he knelt. He didn’t despair either.
He was disappointed, but he didn’t stop struggling to move forward.
That was his current state.
Trapped, only hearing limited information—even that uncertain.
“Hoo… As long as I’m alive, it’s fine. Just alive.”
How many times had he muttered that?
He endured and endured.
Even in this desperate situation, Ieund Owen’s will not to lose his mind was worthy of respect.
Then—
“How do you plan to survive?”
A voice he hadn’t expected reached Ieund Owen.
“You…”
In what he thought was an empty room, there was a visitor.
A presence that appeared without him even sensing a footstep—it was Rayrn.
‘If he wanted me dead, I’d be dead.’
The gap in skill between him and Rayrn was clear.
No, even if their skills were similar, it wouldn’t matter. As the victor, Rayrn had the right to kill Ieund, the loser.
The Ofern and Owen houses had a long-standing grudge, so no one would condemn him for killing.
Trembling involuntarily, Ieund forced himself to steady his mind and asked as if nothing was wrong.
“What business do you have? There’s nothing left for you to gain from a ruined man like me.”
“Oh, your spirit is quite something.”
Rayrn looked at Ieund’s attitude with satisfied eyes.
“…Is this mockery?”
“No, not at all. I just needed to see what kind of person I’m entrusting a task to.”
A task.
What kind of task did Rayrn intend to entrust to Ieund, now the loser?
‘I can’t figure out his thoughts.’
Ofern had pushed back Duke Jisert and completely taken over the North.
They had seized all the prime lands of the Owen House—multiple huge iron mines and the relatively fertile northern part, which was now lost from the barren Owen territory.
Having taken the most affluent land, they had more than enough room to develop further over time.
No, maybe they didn’t even need time. Because they had the money coming in from Machinery Castle.
They could buy time with money.
Restoring the war-torn lands wouldn’t take long.
What could he possibly have to order?
Prestige? Or the remaining desolate southern part of the Owen House? Did he even need to get that?
‘I don’t know.’
It was incomprehensible.
Buzz—
Preparing for any possibility, Ieund secretly gathered mana and asked Rayrn.
“Are you telling me to swear an oath of loyalty? To rule the Owen House lawfully? The Royal Palace wouldn’t want that.”
“Pfft, I have no intention of taking land that’s lost its substance.”
“Then what?”
Rayrn finally looked at Ieund, who was struggling not to tremble, with a momentarily pitying gaze.
Then he gave a short answer.
“To plant a seed of discord.”
“…Damn it.”
The moment he heard those words, Ieund Owen knew what he was meant for.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
He pounded on the thick iron door.
Unceasingly.
It was a sound familiar to Rayrn, who had been waiting for an answer. Birence had also pounded on the bars like mad when he was about to leave the cell.
It was the same.
The difference was that while Birence’s pounding was for an oath of loyalty, this man’s would be the exact opposite.
Clank.
When the door opened, Ieund Owen looked haggard.
The traces of ceaseless pondering over the past week were evident on his face.
‘Ruthless.’
For his young age, he was a ruthless figure. He possessed a mental fortitude that defied his years.
If Rayrn himself had not awakened, perhaps the winner of the three-way battle among Gisert, Ofern, and Owen might have been the Owen House.
The Marquis of Owen, whom Rayrn had killed, would have safely passed the succession to Ieund.
In the meantime, Ieund might have built up power and strength and crushed everyone around.
The Owen House lacked the unity of Ofern or the inherited power of Gisert, but they had exceptional cunning.
It just wasn’t the right timing. The time wasn’t right.
If he let him go like this, he would surely survive and become quite strong.
Ieund stared at him with blazing eyes.
“I’ll accept it. I’ll accept that insane act.”
“Fine by me.”
“…You’ll definitely regret this.”
Those were the eyes of a man who had made up his mind.
‘Good.’
Rayrn hadn’t spared Ieund out of momentary pity or sudden whim.
‘It’s to use him.’
He was a young child who knew how to stake his life by selling his future.
First, he sold it to his own vassal house, then to Gisert. Even if it was close to a losing move, for Ieund, it was his best effort.
He had a solid core and tenacity.
‘Sending him to the South would be interesting.’
Far away, to the South.
What if he sent him to the second son, who was acting as if the Owen House was already his?
Not as a prisoner, but as a candidate for a succession struggle that was thought to be over.
“When I take over the Owen House, I’ll come for you then. When that time comes, I won’t treat you like my father did. I’ll slit your throat completely.”
“Can you really do that?”
“Of course!”
Nodding, Ieund’s eyes were full of determination.
A genuine will to do so.
‘Interesting.’
This kid might actually survive.
Sent as a hidden agenda to shake the Owen House again with a succession struggle thought to be over—
‘He’ll definitely thrust a sword forward.’
While Rayrn was annexing the northern Owen territory, Ieund might not just buy time but could grow his power at a frightening pace.
But—
“When that time comes, the one thrusting the sword first won’t be you.”
“Is that a threat?”
“No, I’m just stating an obvious reality. I merely granted a reprieve. The extermination of your Owen House, I mean.”
“It would have been better to acknowledge my older brother.”
“Maybe so.”
There had been a secret message from the eldest son of the Marquis of Owen’s House.
He demanded that Ieund Owen be handed over. In return, he would forget past grievances.
‘Idiot.’
It was a foolish condition. Even in a sibling conflict, there was a line.
Those who sell out their own blood to the other side never inherit power properly or make things work.
“Then can I just go like this?”
“If you just go, that wouldn’t be satisfying. Have them take you away.”
Snap.
When Rayrn snapped his fingers, the doors on the side began to open with a bang.
Thud. Thud.
Had they been training constantly even while confined?
The people emerging, with well-trained bodies, exuded an unusual momentum.
Their eyes were not dead.
The moment he saw them, Ieund recognized them immediately.
“…Ion.”
“Young Lord.”
It was the knight Ion. One of the few knights who had acknowledged Ieund as the formal successor.
He was the one who had run to his death to deliver a letter to the Gisert House.
He had survived in the end. But in return—
“Lost an arm, I see.”
“A cheap price.”
His right arm was gone.
For a right-handed man, losing his right arm was a great loss. It was uncertain whether he could survive as a knight anymore.
But no one despaired at the sight.
Ieund asked with even fiercer eyes.
“Can you still protect me like that?”
“Can I not?”
“No, you’ll do it. You still have your left arm. No, even without it, you’d protect me. Even if both legs are severed, even if your heart stops. You’ll keep protecting me.”
“Of course.”
Despite the absurd words, Ion nodded as if he truly meant it.
Ieund looked at the remaining ones.
Ion, Resert, Mirion.
Only three in total. But that was enough.
“Enough. This is more than enough.”
Ieund considered it sufficient and nodded in satisfaction.
Rayrn simply watched him silently.
“I’ll be sure to cut your throat.”
“By all means.”
With those last fierce words, Ieund soon departed.
He may have burned with determination, but he was practical.
Rayrn had released the knights he had provided and those prisoners who chose to follow Ieund.
He had even given them considerable military supplies and weapons to feed them.
With this, if they armed themselves and launched guerrilla warfare, they could become a troublesome force.
But Rayrn sent them off without hesitation.
As he watched them leave, the Earl of Ofern had already taken his place beside him.
Despite his steely resolve, the earl’s eyes as he watched Ieund leave seemed complicated.
The Earl of Ofern also recognized that Ieund was no ordinary person.
“He’s leaving.”
“He is sturdy.”
“That may be so. But compared to us of Ofern, he is weak.”
“Hmm… Is that so?”
“Just wait and see. How strong we become.”
But the child beside him was even greater than that.
As his son, under the name Ofern.
“Let’s go. We might get quite busy from now on.”
“Thanks to you.”
Rayrn, who had sent Ieund as a seed of discord, strode away without hesitation.
‘Now then, shall I ignite the next one?’