Chapter 32: The Dungeon and the Nine Families

Dungeons.  

Special spaces formed when monsters gathered in areas rich with mana in nature.  

Monsters in dungeons developed mana stones within their bodies.  

Even the lowest-grade mana stones fetched a high price, making dungeons akin to treasure vaults.  

This was why the discovery of a dungeon spread like wildfire.  

Ethan, too, knew of a few dungeons through rumors.  

One such place was the Abandoned Mine of the Metal Serpent, a dungeon previously discovered in the Kargas Barony.  

More than mana stones, it gained fame for a peculiar metal.  

A black-tinted metal.  

Though less durable than mithril, a high-grade metal, it had exceptional affinity for elemental attributes.  

When mages first discovered it in the Western Continent, they named it nephrion.  

It was a costly material that sparked numerous rumors.  

From memory, a significant amount had been circulated in the past, so acquiring enough to forge a sword shouldn’t be an issue.  

Whether it’s fully dungeonized or not, I’m not sure.  

It didn’t matter.  

If it wasn’t a dungeon yet, he’d simply mine the metal.  

If it had become a dungeon, he’d clear out the monsters and then mine.  

Silvia nodded at Ethan’s words.  

“Two months should be fine. The Nine Branch Families will likely stay quiet.”  

So far, the Archduke had only made one move: toppling the Kargas Barony.  

If the Nine Branch Families had suffered a major loss, they’d have reacted strongly, but they hadn’t.  

Instead, as their influence grew, they’d split into factions, squabbling among themselves.  

They might even be secretly pleased that one rival was gone.  

Their response would likely be limited to watchful eyes.  

Two months.  

A period to strengthen his foundation before the next step—not a bad idea.  

That’s why Silvia nodded readily.  

“Right. And from now on, always keep the Knight Commander and three knights as escorts.”  

Until now, Ethan had been nearby, so he hadn’t worried much about Silvia’s safety.  

But things were different now.  

If something happened while he was away, he could lose a valuable strategist.  

“I’m fine—”  

“Just do as I say. It’s for your safety.”  

“…Thank you.”  

“Then I’ll be off.”  

Ethan grabbed his identity plaque.  

A token given only to direct descendants, proving he was of the Ardan Ducal House.  

With a horse in tow, Ethan left the Inner Castle.  

***

In the grand meeting hall of the Ducal Territory’s Inner Castle, nine nobles gathered.  

The Ten Branch Families—no, now the Nine Branch Families.  

Normally, these patriarchs wouldn’t gather for some time.  

Their priority was developing their own territories, not handling Ducal Territory affairs.  

It had been fifteen years since they formed the Elders’ Council.  

Over time, they’d grown accustomed to minimal effort in their duties.  

That was why Council Meetings had become rare.  

But this time, they had to act swiftly.  

The shocking news that one of their own had been executed, his head hung on the city gates, demanded it.  

Cheimon surveyed the room and nodded.  

“Nine. Everyone’s here. Let’s begin the 32nd Elders’ Council Meeting. The first agenda: the Archduke, as you’ve all heard.”  

Someone immediately raised a hand.  

It was Count Irdan, Cheimon’s rival.  

“Count Cheimon, how do you plan to handle this? The one struck was Baron Helmut, from your faction.”  

Irdan finished with a triumphant smile.  

The Archduke.  

His first target was the Kargas Barony.  

Why had he chosen it first?  

It was obvious.  

He must’ve noticed the schemes from long ago.  

Helmut.  

The insults he’d inflicted on the Ducal House’s heirs were immense.  

First, he’d gradually reduced the monthly stipend sent to the Hunting Annex over the past ten years.  

Last month’s stipend wasn’t even in gold—it was in silver.  

Sending silver as living expenses to the Ducal House’s heirs?  

It was no better than tossing alms to a beggar.  

No wonder the Archduke was furious.  

And that wasn’t all.  

Helmut had tried to turn the Fourth Young Master Myers into a drunken wreck and sent spies to monitor the Hunting Annex year-round.  

The Archduke had every reason to crush him.  

Before his fall, despite his young age, the Archduke was renowned for his exceptional leadership and wise judgment.  

He’s likely already figured out who was behind Helmut.  

And who was that?  

None other than his rival, Cheimon, sitting before him.  

The Archduke’s next blade would surely fall on Cheimon’s faction.  

That’s why Irdan could afford to be smug.  

Cheimon versus the Archduke.  

All he had to do was pick up the scraps from their clash.  

At Irdan’s words, Cheimon sighed.  

“I know without you saying it. Since hearing the Barony was razed, I haven’t slept a wink.”  

“Then we must seek revenge, no?”  

Cheimon met Irdan’s serpentine gaze.  

His intentions were clear: he wanted Cheimon’s faction to clash head-on with the Archduke.  

Cheimon had no intention of falling for it.  

The deception.  

When Hans escaped the Capital Prison, he’d shared an intriguing story.  

He said he fooled the Archduke.  

“When I was captured, the Archduke personally asked where I was headed. I told him the Fernes County. He seemed puzzled why I’d go there.”  

“And?”  

“I said Helmut was part of Irdan’s faction. I explained I went to you, Cheimon, fearing he’d target Irdan’s faction. He nodded.”  

“Did he buy it?”  

“Yes. The factions formed long after he fell. He doesn’t seem to know who leads them or who’s aligned with whom. It’s insider knowledge.”  

“And then?”  

“He immediately asked for the names of nobles in Irdan’s faction. I told him everything. When the Romenton Barony came up, he muttered it was convenient since it’s close… That’s likely his next target.”  

Solid information.  

The Archduke was gunning for Irdan’s faction.  

Cheimon had no reason to shed blood.  

He responded smoothly.  

“Revenge? Honestly, I’d love to. But we must consider practical issues.”  

“Practical issues? When a comrade has died, that’s what matters?”  

“It does matter. If the Archduke dies, who’ll bear the heavy consequences?”  

“His Majesty Delprion and the Seven Houses of the Kingdom won’t sit idly by. They’ll tear us apart for failing to protect a family member.”  

Irdan scoffed.  

Sure, the king and the Seven Houses weren’t their allies.  

If a murder occurred, they’d likely act as Cheimon described.  

But it wasn’t impossible to survive.  

If we offer part of the Ducal Territory as a sacrifice and bow our heads…  

The remaining Branch Families could thrive even more.  

If one faction clashed with the Archduke, it’d be easy to pin the murder on them.  

Just tie them together with a grudge.  

That’s why Irdan was so eager to pit Cheimon’s faction against the Archduke.  

“So you’re saying you won’t seek revenge? Even though one of your own was killed?”  

“Get your words straight! It’s not that I won’t—it’s that I can’t!”  

At this point, nobles from both factions began restraining their leaders.  

Heated arguments were common in Council Meetings.  

Irdan, feigning reluctance, looked at Cheimon.  

“Baron Helmut was so loyal… Seeing his lord abandon him so coldly, I wonder if he can rest in peace.”  

“What?! You dare speak so recklessly?!”  

“Recklessly? I’m stating facts!”  

That bastard!  

Cheimon ground his teeth.  

He’d warned his faction that the Archduke’s next target was Irdan’s group to ease their fears.  

But if the image of him callously abandoning his faction spread, his authority would erode.  

Suspicion, once planted, was a stain that didn’t fade easily.  

Damn him. You’ll pay for this!  

The moment the Archduke moved, it would mark the beginning of Irdan’s downfall.  

The nobles stepped in again to calm the two.  

The heated atmosphere gradually subsided.  

The meeting dragged on, but no concrete response to the Archduke emerged.  

Irdan and Cheimon both believed the Archduke’s next target was the other’s faction.  

Thus, neither pushed for aggressive action.  

The conclusion was vague: they’d respond based on the Archduke’s future moves.  

A meaningless outcome.  

Bastard.  

Spineless opportunist.  

The two counts cursed each other, oblivious to how much they mirrored one another.  

“Phew. The first agenda is done. Now, the second: with the fall of the Kargas Barony, a portion of the Balanced Development Fund is left unallocated.”  

At that, every noble’s eyes gleamed.  

The Barony received 2% of the Ducal Territory’s taxes.  

Even 0.1% would significantly boost their territories’ growth.  

“The Kargas Barony no longer qualifies for the fund, does it?”  

“Absolutely! Why give funds to a family that’s become the Archduke’s puppet?”  

Unlike before, both factions’ nobles eagerly engaged in the discussion.  

—

Two days of riding west brought Ethan to a mountain at the edge of the Kargas Barony.  

Mount Mitron.  

He recalled memories from his past life.  

Adventurers had discovered an abandoned mine nearby, which had become a dungeon.  

First, I need to find the mine.  

He didn’t know its exact location.  

But one thing was certain:  

The mine is somewhere on this mountain.  

That was enough.  

A small village lay near Mount Mitron.  

I’ll need a guide.  

He approached the village on horseback.  

From atop a roughly two-meter wooden palisade, the village’s militia watched him.  

A sturdy, well-bred horse and clearly expensive attire.  

He was likely a noble or a wealthy merchant’s son.  

“Who are you?”  

Ethan presented his identity plaque.  

The militia stirred at the sight.  

It was the emblem.  

A golden emblem.  

In the kingdom, only the king and the Ardan Ducal House could use gold emblems.  

This was drilled into every citizen from childhood.  

And if that golden emblem bore the kingdom’s most famous symbol—the Flame Crest!  

The Ardan Ducal House!  

A descendant of the kingdom’s most revered heroic family had arrived.  

The palisade gates swung wide open.  

As Ethan entered, every villager knelt, showing the utmost respect.