Reincarnated as the Descendant of a Fallen Noble

Chapter 68: We Need Investment. (1)

“So, they call her one of the Seven Great Beauties? She must be pretty famous… you don’t know?”

“I’ve been too busy to keep up with gossip…”

“…Right.”

The third young master of a practically ruined viscounty on the remote eastern frontier.

If someone like him were well-versed in gossip like this, that’d be a whole other problem.

Malion asked again.

“Why do you ask, Princess?”

“Oh, it says something like this here.”

[Princess Medeia of the Ruslan Mountains.]

The fourth princess, Medeia, one of the Seven Great Beauties of the Empire.

It had been eight months since she departed on an inspection of the Ruslan Mountains for some undisclosed reason. No one knew the exact purpose, but all anyone could do was hope she returned to the capital soon.

Malion glanced at the journal and replied.

“If it’s the Ruslan Mountains, that’s the Empire’s northernmost region. If Her Highness went all the way out there… I suppose it was to inspect a nearby castle or fortress.”

“Do they usually send a princess for something like that? And she’s been gone for eight months?”

“I’m not sure about that part either…”

As Hardin stroked his chin and sank into thought, Malion asked curiously.

“But why do you ask all of a sudden, Brother?”

“It’s nothing. Just mind your own business.”

“You can talk more if you want…”

Honestly, I’d rather he babble about pointless gossip than go off causing trouble.

“It’s fine.”

When Hardin waved his hand dismissively, Malion stared at him for a moment, then tightly gripped his quill again.

‘What was that? I suddenly got a weird, ominous feeling…’

It must be just my imagination.

Malion resumed writing the letter with a disgruntled look on his face.

---

A deep night where even the moon was veiled by clouds, and the world was enveloped in silence.

“Ughhh…”

Malion, who had been curled up on his desk, sluggishly got up.

‘Did I… fall asleep here?’

Not only was he writing letters in Hardin’s stead, but he had also been handling all sorts of house documents, and the accumulated fatigue had finally caught up to him.

Malion rubbed his eyes and looked around the room.

His eyes landed on the neatly made bed.

‘Looks like Brother went to bed.’

Over the past few days, Hardin had spent every night loitering in Malion’s room, rambling about the harbor investment project.

But if he left this early tonight…

‘He must’ve come to his senses at last.’

A very good sign.

A satisfied smile spread across Malion’s face.

“Whew.”

Attracting investment for the construction of a trade harbor.

It sounded nice in theory and noble in intent, but in reality, it was a ridiculous idea.

Even if his brother clung to the plan, it was unlikely to succeed. Worse, a single careless comment could sour relationships with neighboring noble houses or merchant guilds.

It was one of those things where doing nothing might’ve been better than doing it poorly.

In any case, confirming that his brother had finally given up, Malion smiled with satisfaction.

“Uchachacha.”

Well then, time to wrap up the rest of my work…

Malion stretched and turned back to his desk.

“Hm? What’s this…”

There was a single envelope sitting on top of it.

He opened it and pulled out a small note inside.

The moment he read it slowly—

“……”

Cold sweat ran down Malion’s back, and his jaw dropped.

Thud!

His hand trembled violently, and the note slipped from his fingers, falling onto the desk.

It read:

I'm going to get investment from Princess Medeia. If you want to help, follow me.

– Hardin Daphne –

“This lunatic of a mannnnnn!”

Thud! Crash!

Malion bolted out of the room in a panic.

“Fatherrrr! We have a problem! Brother! Brother is—!”

That night,

the Daphne Viscounty was thrown into utter chaos.

---

After Hardin ran off, the Daphne estate was in an uproar.

– He… He said he’s going to get investment from a princess? Do you hear how ridiculous that sounds?

– He left this… note behind.

– We have to stop him! Absolutely!

Of all people, why—why the princess stationed in the northern fortress?

No, even granting that such a thing might somehow be possible.

The problem was that the one charging off to do it was Hardin.

Lately, he had been looking at everyone like a mad rooster, picking fights with whoever crossed his path.

If such a person stood before Princess Medeia and said the wrong thing?

– It’d be the end of our house, that’s what!

– A confirmed charge of lèse-majesté…

The future was all too clear.

That was why the entire household couldn’t just stand idly by.

– Malion! Hurry and pursue him! Now!

– Yes, sir!

With full support from the house, a pursuit party was assembled with Malion at the lead.

He rode north toward the Ruslan Fortress like a man possessed.

The problem was… that this Ruslan Fortress was disgustingly far from Daphne lands.

– Third Young Master! The horse can’t go on! We need to rest!

– No time to rest! Whip it if you have to!

Crossing mountains and rivers was just the beginning.

They had to pass through swamps and treacherous mountain terrain.

– Hahaha! Hand over everything you’ve got! We are the Red Hood Gang, rulers of these mountains—

– Outta the way, you bastards! We’re in a hurry!

Of course, getting ambushed by monsters and running into bandit gangs twice was just a bonus.

…After nearly three relentless weeks of struggle,

whiiirrrrrrr!

They finally reached a snowy mountain ridge.

About a dozen young men, covered head to toe in snow, were trudging up the winding mountain path.

At the front, Malion trembled as he muttered to himself.

“Damn it alllll…”

His breath came out in white puffs, his cheeks had sunken, and his eyebrows were frosted over in white.

Under the deeply pulled hat, Malion’s face was gaunt and pale, his eyelids darkened with exhaustion.

‘What the hell is all this because of that lunatic…’

His body was so fatigued that it wouldn’t be surprising if he collapsed right then and there.

They had run nonstop for the past three weeks without a single break—being in one piece was the real surprise.

But he couldn’t stop.

‘I have to… make sure Brother never meets the princess.’

If he wanted to prevent his brother from spouting nonsense in front of the princess—

If he wanted to stop the family from getting obliterated on charges of lèse-majesté.

He had no idea what Hardin was thinking coming all the way out here.

‘I mean seriously, who in their right mind reads a journal entry about one of the Empire’s Seven Great Beauties and then decides to go borrow money from her?’

Please… don’t let us be too late.

He slowly raised his head. The snow-covered mountains wound on endlessly before him.

The Ruslan Mountains.

A massive white mountain range spanning the northern border of the Empire.

Its rugged terrain, extreme altitude, and year-round blizzards made it utterly uninhabitable.

Malion looked around with a suspicious gaze and thought to himself.

‘Something’s definitely strange.’

They sent a princess on inspection to a wasteland like this? And she hasn’t returned for more than half a year?

Could something have happened here…?

If something had, surely there would’ve been at least some rumors—but he had heard nothing.

‘Well, it doesn’t matter right now.’

Malion shook his head.

Whatever happened to the princess, the priority was to stop Hardin from reaching that fortress.

“Come on, hurry! We have to catch up to him before he arrives!”

“Ughhhh…”

“Yesssirrr…”

They pushed forward through the snow, which swallowed their feet with every step.

At the rear, the youngest, Mikkelsen, furrowed his brow and grumbled.

“Beryl-hyung, I’m dead tired.”

“Me too.”

“Is this really right? I mean, why are we the ones out here when the official knights of the house are just sitting back?”

“They need troops to guard the territory.”

“We could’ve guarded it! Couldn’t we?”

Beryl scratched his nose and replied.

“You’re not wrong… but we’re already here. What can we do?”

“You should’ve stood your ground earlier!”

“…You blaming this on me now?”

“You’re our squad leader, aren’t you?”

Just then, as Beryl and Malion bickered—

One of the other Maw mercenaries at the front pointed a finger toward the mountain slope.

Something, about the size of a fingertip from that distance, was moving forward.

“Third Young Master, that… isn’t that the Young Master?”

“W-Wait a minute.”

Swish!

Malion pulled out his telescope to check—and spotted a familiar face.

A man with blond hair, chewing on a piece of jerky, with a smug grin on his face.

It was Hardin.

‘That bastard…’

Even after dragging all these people through hell, he’s grinning like that?

Clench!

Malion adjusted his glasses and ground his teeth.

“Everyone, activate your Body Reinforcement! We’re catching up to him in one go!”

“Ah… yes, sir!”

With a sharp gleam in his eyes, Malion charged forward across the snow.

The Maw mercenaries followed suit, activating their Body Reinforcement techniques and charging in.

Crunch! Crunch!

But—

“Huff… huff… Why is that guy so fast?”

“Th-The distance isn’t closing at all!”

Even though they were running at full power, the gap between them and Hardin wasn’t shrinking.

He looked like he was just strolling leisurely—so why couldn’t they catch up?

“What the hellll!”

Why is that guy so ridiculously fast?!

Grinding his teeth, Malion ran and ran across the snow.

The snowstorm grew fiercer, and soon everyone looked like snowmen, their bodies covered in layers of snow.

“Brotherrrrrr!”

Thud!

Malion finally closed the distance and grabbed Hardin’s shoulder with a yank.

Hardin turned around and asked nonchalantly,

“Oh, you’re here?”

“‘You’re here’?! I’ve been yelling at you to stop this whole time—why didn’t you?!”

“Didn’t hear you. Too loud.”

As Hardin chuckled, Malion’s brow furrowed deeply.

“Don’t lie to me!”

“I’m not lying.”

“You are lying, aren’t you?!”

“I said I’m not.”

Malion let out a deep sigh and dropped his shoulders.

‘…Arguing is pointless.’

The most urgent matter was stopping this lunatic from going through with his plan.

“Brother, let’s go back! Immediately!”

“Go where?”

“What do you mean where?! Back to our house, of course! Why did you even come out here?!”

“I told you already. I’m going to get investment from the princess.”

“Be serious! Why would the princess invest in us?”

“Why not?”

“Do I really have to explain this?! Why would the princess invest in a borderland house like ours? And before that—do you even know if she has ten million gold?!”

At that moment, Mikkelsen, who had been listening from behind, asked with a confused look.

“The princess doesn’t have money?”

“Of course not! That amount of gold might barely be within reach for a high-ranking prince in the line of succession! How on earth would the Fourth Princess have access to that kind of fortune?”

“Then why did you come all the way out here, Young Master?”

“That’s what I’m saying! Of all the royals you could’ve gone to, why did you have to come to the middle of nowhere like this?!”

As Malion cried out in frustration, Hardin shrugged and replied.

“Because it only has meaning if it’s here.”

“Excuse me?”

“Think about it. Do you think those royal bastards would even bother meeting lowly lords from the frontier like us?”

“Then if you know that, why are you doing something this crazy?”

“I told you. It only has meaning if it’s here.”

“What on earth…”

Malion was about to argue further, but Hardin waved his hand and quickened his pace.

As Malion and the rest of the pursuit party scrambled to catch up in alarm—

– Uwooooh!

– Oooooh!

Faint shouts echoed from beyond the mountain, and Hardin grinned.

“Looks like we’re almost there.”

Malion gulped.

…No. This can’t happen!

If that man actually came face to face with the princess… if he said anything stupid in front of her, it’d all be over.

Thud!

Malion grabbed Hardin’s arm and pulled.

“Let’s go back, Brother!”

“What are you doing?”

Hardin gave him a look of pity, but Malion turned his head and shouted, undeterred.

“What are you all doing?! Help me! Stop him! I said stop him!”

“Y-Yes, sir!”

With that, Beryl, Mikkelsen, and the other mercenaries rushed in to restrain Hardin.

The problem was…

“Tch. Annoying.”

Whip!

With a casual flick of his arm—

“Uwaaah!”

Two or three people went flying back, rolling across the snow.

Hardin’s body was no longer what it used to be, and they were all drained from the long journey, unable to offer any real resistance.

“You’re all wasting your time.”

Hardin let out a sigh, shook them off completely, and began striding again toward the source of the sound.

In the distance, the Ruslan Fortress came into view.

‘No, this can’t be happening!’

Malion’s face turned pale.

“Brother! St-Stop! What do you mean, Princess Medeia?! We’re going to die if this goes wrong!”

“Ah, relax. Stop being such a drama queen.”

“It’s not fine at all!”

Malion tried pulling on his waist, clinging to his legs—

But he and the Maw mercenaries were simply dragged along helplessly, leaving trails in the snow behind them.