From a Broken Engagement to the Northern Grand Duke's Son-in-Law

The position of Veilwarden?

Truth be told, this hadn’t been my original goal. There was no logical reason they’d grant such a role to an outsider like me, and I certainly hadn’t anticipated the current Veilwarden would prove to be such a disappointing specimen.

But circumstances had shifted in my favor.

There was definite potential here.

I allowed myself a calculated grin as I studied the Veilmaster’s expression.

My desire for the Veilwarden position stemmed from a single, crucial privilege—the right to possess one of Death Veil’s divine artifacts. Each Veilwarden earned this through trial and service.

Naturally, if I only wanted an artifact, I could have requested one directly rather than demanding the position itself. But the artifact I required wasn’t currently within Death Veil’s walls.

Three divine artifacts of legend belonged to Death Veil’s name.

Tracophe—the dagger once wielded by Thief Master Max. The unbreakable thread, Hasilan—capable of channeling Aura properties. The technique-imbued shoes, Longmoon—containing an ability of the founding Veilmaster.

Of these three treasures, I needed Hasilan above all others.

Hasilan could contain and channel Aura properties through its impossibly fine filaments. With that thread, I could craft far more diverse beast incarnations than my current lesser dragons. The White Tiger, perhaps, or even the Vermilion Bird.

By wrapping Hasilan around my arrows, I could create various divine beast forms. The thread even possessed a returning ability, allowing for complex tactical applications.

It was, without question, the most valuable tool I could acquire at this moment.

I’d originally planned to steal it quietly for later use, but circumstances had presented a far better opportunity.

The difference between theft and legitimate acquisition couldn’t be overstated. 

Stealing Hasilan would make me a target for elimination, but claiming it through the Veilwarden’s privilege would earn me gratitude for recovering Death Veil’s lost treasure.

There was a profound distinction between giving someone an object and granting them the right to use it.

Becoming Death Veil’s Veilwarden was the only path to obtaining Hasilan without bloodshed.

The Veilmaster, of course, couldn’t possibly divine my true intentions.

He narrowed his eyes, studying me with newfound wariness. “Even though I promised to give you anything, there are limits to what I can offer.”

“I understand completely.”

“And knowing that, you make such a demand?”

“In exchange, I’ll renounce all authority to command Death Veil’s members.”

“What?” The Veilmaster stared at me as if I’d sprouted a second head. He’d clearly assumed I was maneuvering to seize control of the entire organization, only to hear me explicitly reject command authority.

His expression demanded explanation—why would anyone want the Veilwarden position without the power that came with it?

But it wasn’t necessary to reveal my true purpose.

“I simply wish to establish a safeguard to protect my life,” I said with deliberate casualness. “After all… even as Veilwarden, they wouldn’t truly obey an outsider like me anyway, would they?”

“That’s... accurate.” The Veilmaster fell into contemplation once more.

Without faction-building privileges or direct command over the assassins, granting me the Veilwarden title posed minimal risk to his authority.

With Death Veil’s reputation to consider, he’d certainly be obligated to defend my life—but that was a responsibility he’d take regardless the moment Kai became heir.

The Veilmaster reached a decision and extended his hand. “Very well. We have an agreement.”

I clasped his offered hand with a grin.

This outcome was better than I’d dared hope for.

Finally, things were beginning to flow in the right direction.

* * *

Meanwhile, in a different part of the compound, the former Veilwarden was composing a letter with trembling hands.

“How dare they treat me like this?”

She’d never approved of Death Veil’s current direction anyway.

Slayer’s Birthright this, former master’s disciple that—an organization of assassins living on borrowed nostalgia. How could such weakness possibly endure?

The woman who had been Veilwarden—Creia—tied her letter to a messenger bird’s leg with bloodshot eyes burning with rage. Then she drew her dagger and pricked her finger.

A droplet of crimson blood welled up and traced down her skin. Creia fed that droplet to the messenger bird.

Instantly, the creature’s eyes turned red as fresh blood, and it began beating its wings with frantic, almost manic energy.

The sound was wrong—too aggressive, too desperate.

At the bird’s transformation into something monstrous, Creia’s lips twisted into a satisfied smirk.

Just as Duke Artezia had promised. He’d claimed knowledge of demonic power, and apparently his boasts had substance behind them.

Creia’s eyes flashed with sinister anticipation as her smile widened.

“Yes… why should I cling to the Veilwarden position? It’s time to climb higher.”

The position her father had coveted—King of Assassins. She would claim that throne for herself.

By any means necessary.

* * *

After leaving Kai in the Veilmaster’s capable hands, I made my way to Death Veil’s quarters to assume my new role.

Beside me walked Lancelot, Roxen, and Hans, all three wearing expressions of men who’d witnessed something beyond their comprehension.

“Pull yourselves together,” I said with mild amusement. “At this rate, someone could abduct you all without resistance.”

“…Only you could accomplish what we just witnessed, Captain,” Lancelot replied with a soft sigh.

His remarks were usually met with dismissal, but this time, the other squad members seemed to share his sentiment and nodded in agreement.

Their behavior was evidence of their mental state.

“No wonder Master Max...” Hans muttered with hollow eyes.

Roxen opened and closed his mouth repeatedly like a landed fish, shaking his head as if he’d truly lost his grasp on reality.

Their reaction was perfectly understandable. While I was comfortable operating at the Aura Master level, they’d faced a true Master and his techniques for an extended period. Mental fatigue was inevitable.

I chuckled quietly and addressed them with instructional intent. “Learn well. A knight’s greatest enemy isn’t Demonkin or monsters—it’s assassins.”

Indeed, the first lesson taught when training knights in my family concerned assassin methodology.

Knights were protectors by nature, while assassins sought to kill what knights protected. Conflict was inevitable between such opposing forces.

Moreover, unlike knights who fought with honor and directness, assassins who struck from shadows possessed the worst possible compatibility with knightly tactics.

“…Is that why we’re staying here?” Roxen asked, finally recovering his composure.

“Exactly. There’s no better place than Death Veil for learning to counter assassination techniques.”

Honestly, with Kai’s presence, I wouldn’t need to worry about assassination attempts, but basic training remained essential.

There might be times when Kai wasn’t available, and we couldn’t always rely on him and myself for protection.

“With that in mind,” I said with a calculated smile, “try to survive what comes next.”

Roxen and Hans blinked with dazed expressions, but they had no opportunity to respond.

A poison needle materialized from nowhere, streaking toward Roxen’s throat.

“…God be damned,” Roxen muttered through gritted teeth as he swung his sword. Strangely colored Aura swirled around his blade’s edge.

“M-my Lord! Why must I endure this as well?” Hans looked at me with shocked betrayal. He was clearly questioning why he, a non-combatant, had to undergo such brutal training.

I smiled with paternal authority. “You ought to learn how to avoid a meaningless death out there.”

Even coachmen faced assassination risks in our line of work. It was prudent to ensure he could react appropriately and build resistance to common poisons.

I watched my struggling squad members with satisfaction.

“Do persevere. I specifically requested some of their elite instructors.”

“The heck! What do you—” Hans cried out as if I’d personally wronged him.

It was the beginning of our first training session at Death Veil.

* * *

While Hans and Roxen struggled against their assassin instructors, Kai sat in tense silence across from the Veilmaster.

“Would you care for some tea?” the Veilmaster offered.

Kai regarded him with eyes cold as winter stone and remained silent.

“Not to your liking, I see.” The Veilmaster sighed softly and leaned back in his chair with apparent resignation.

“I’d appreciate some form of communication.”

“Young Master told me to be here, so I’m here,” Kai said with flat finality. “Don’t talk to me.”

“I see. Unfortunately, I have an obligation to pass assassination techniques to you, regardless of your cooperation.”

Kai sealed his lips shut at that. He’d received specific orders from his young master, after all.

I’m supposed to learn from this man?

Wasn’t this the same man who’d tried to kill Young Master twice?

The first attempt might have been indirect, but the second? Kai saw it for what it was.

There had been murder in the Veilmaster’s eyes.

“Fine. I’ll learn,” Kai answered quietly while maintaining his stare. But his eyes held only killing intent, far removed from any hint of obedience.

“But when I become stronger than you, I’m going to kill you. Is that acceptable?”

Kai was going to use this man’s own teachings to take vengeance on those who dared threaten Louis—so that no one could ever harm his young master.

He would grow stronger and stronger until he could someday slit the Veilmaster’s throat with his own hands.

For that sacred goal, he could even grovel at his enemy’s feet.

Kai rose from his seat with a blade of vengeance burning in his heart, then bowed formally to the Veilmaster.

“…Please take care of me from now on.”

The Veilmaster snorted at the sight.

How audacious—declaring his intention to commit murder once he grew strong enough. Was that something to announce to one’s intended victim?

Yet somehow, he found Kai’s brutal honesty refreshing.

At least this one won’t stab me in the back.

Due to the treacherous nature of the assassination profession, he couldn’t completely trust anyone. But this boy wouldn’t betray him—at least not until he became powerful enough to make good on his threat.

That made him sufficiently trustworthy for the immediate future.

The Veilmaster chuckled and nodded with approval. “Very well. Let’s see you try to kill me.”

“Okay.”

“Then show me your current skills. Attack me with everything you have.”

The Veilmaster gestured invitation. Kai immediately rose and swung his dagger with lethal intent.

A brief, violent exchange followed.

“…You’re a hundred years too early for that ambition,” the Veilmaster said to the unconscious Kai while breathing heavily. He bore no visible wounds, but he was winded from the encounter.

“Hah… that was truly dangerous.”

The Veilmaster groaned as he straightened his bent back and assessed the damage. 

But then—

Rip.

The collar around his neck tore away and fell to the floor.

If Kai’s Aura had been just slightly stronger, it would have severed his throat completely.

What a genuine little monster…

The Veilmaster studied Kai’s unconscious form with amazement. Such tremendous growth already?

It seemed his remaining lifespan wouldn’t be particularly long after all.