Starting My New Life as a Demon Kid

Chapter 51. The Count’s Knights (4)

“What… what did you just say?”

Campbell’s pupils trembled. He couldn’t hide his emotions at all. He was deeply agitated.

Yohan’s lips curved upward. A meaningful smile spread across his face.

“I asked why you were hiding your proud scar.”

Yohan looked at Campbell as if he already knew the truth behind that scar. He even gave off the aura of a predator who had caught the scent of weakness.

For Campbell, it was confusing. There were very few who could possibly access the secret of that day, and the boy before him certainly wasn’t among them.

In short, Yohan’s behavior was utterly unreasonable.

Campbell glared at Yohan, his voice heavy with suspicion.

“…What do you mean by that?”

Yohan shrugged.

“There’s no hidden meaning. For a knight, scars are a symbol of might. I simply thought that a scar like yours would be something to take pride in.”

Yohan’s expression calmed. The predatory glint in his eyes vanished completely.

The strange pressure that had been weighing on Campbell vanished like a fleeting moment.

Campbell didn’t respond to Yohan’s words. But tension still lingered on his face.

Yohan didn’t miss a single detail of Campbell’s reaction.

‘My guess was right.’

Campbell the Profaner. He was a knight tormented by guilt and shame, an unfortunate soul.

For a demon, he would be the perfect prey.

Handled well, he could make opposing the Count far easier.

In Campbell’s place, Myra spoke.

“I agree with Lord Yohan. A scar like that is far more knightly than a smooth, flawless face.”

Yohan shook his head.

“No. I didn’t know the circumstances. I think my words were careless. Sir Campbell, I apologize for my rudeness.”

Myra smiled warmly.

“Haha! Then we’ve both been rude once each. How about we settle it like men—with a handshake to cover both offenses?”

Yohan held his hand out to Campbell.

“I agree.”

Campbell hesitated. Suspicion still flickered in his expression.

Myra gave him a pointed look.

“You’ve revealed your face at last. If we’re talking about rudeness, yours isn’t exactly small. Why don’t we end it here?”

Campbell seemed reluctant.

“…Fine.”

But he stretched out his hand. Myra’s pressure had left him no choice.

The two men’s palms met in the air.

After the brief handshake, Yohan spoke.

“Then let’s move on to the main topic.”

Once everyone sat down, Myra spoke.

“I’ll be direct. The Count wishes to meet Lord Yohan.”

He produced a white invitation.

Yohan stared silently at the sheet.

“What’s the reason?”

Normally, a noble summoned by a Count wouldn’t ask questions—they’d gladly accept, even be delighted, simply at being noticed by the Count.

Yohan was different. He showed not a flicker of emotion.

As if expecting this, Myra nodded.

“As you know, strange events have been happening continuously in the south. The Pilgrimage Group was attacked, Apostle Beris appeared, a horned Gakgwi was sighted. And although it’s slightly beyond the southern border, even an ancient demon manifested.”

The ancient demon referred to was Kaiaze.

“And these events have any direct connection to why the Count wants to see me?”

“As I said, all of these incidents occurred in the south. Things that might happen once in a hundred years are occurring repeatedly in a specific region.”

“I’m not sure I understand your meaning.”

“It’s simple. The Count suspects there’s a problem with the Abyss, and he wishes to hear the opinion of the Miyatro heir. As for why he’s not summoning the head of the family… on that matter, I’ll keep my words brief.”

Grian Miyatro was an infamous scoundrel. There wasn’t a single noble who thought of him as the Watcher of the Abyss.

Yohan clicked his tongue inwardly.

‘Convenient excuse.’

Using the Abyss as a pretext to summon the Watcher of the Abyss? There was practically no room to refuse.

Whether or not the Count had ulterior motives, the Miyatro Family had no choice but to accept the invitation.

He spoke with a blank face.

“And if I refuse?”

Myra’s face hardened with resolve.

“Then you’ll be formally summoned to the Council. In that case, Lord Yohan’s father, Baron Miyatro, would have to attend. I sincerely hope it doesn’t come to that.”

The Council was the kingdom’s highest decision-making body. Yohan couldn’t appear at such an official assembly. He was far too young to represent his family.

As Myra said, Grian would attend in his stead.

What nonsense would that fool spout in the Council? Yohan didn’t even want to imagine it.

He would never entrust the Miyatro future to Grian.

Yohan swallowed the thought.

As expected, the Count wasn’t an easy opponent. The snare he’d thrown had no escape route.

He had to accept the invitation. He would have to move exactly as the Count intended.

‘But only this far.’

Yohan sighed. Acting as though resigned, he said,

“It’s an invitation I can’t refuse. Fine. I’ll visit when the time is right. When would be best?”

“The sooner the better. Let’s set a date within this year, if possible.”

In other words, within three months.

“Understood. I’ll set a time and send word.”

Myra smiled, looking pleased.

“The Count will be very satisfied. I’ll deliver only good words about you to him.”

“Thank you for your kindness.”

Myra waved his hand.

“No, I’m the one who should thank you. We came without notice, and you still received us so graciously. Once again, thank you. Now these uninvited guests will take our leave.”

Myra and Campbell stood.

“Won’t you at least stay for a meal?”

It was an offer made out of courtesy.

“No, we can’t steal any more of your valuable time.”

Myra tactfully declined.

Yohan nodded.

“Then, I’ll see you next at the Count’s estate.”

Myra smiled kindly.

“I look forward to that day.”

“As do I. Travel safely.”

Myra and Campbell dipped their heads slightly and left the room.

They would leave the lord’s castle under Gaf’s guidance.

Yohan, left alone in the audience chamber, fell into thought.

***

Lately, Yohan’s life has been chaotic. Too many incidents had exploded simultaneously, draining his spirit.

He’d patched things up as best he could, but in truth, he’d only put out the nearest fires.

There was far too little time to prepare for the unannounced variables that kept coming.

Yohan sighed, sinking into the chair.

‘…It’s getting tighter and tighter.’

Just when he finished one matter, something else erupted elsewhere. He needed to focus on White Horn, yet now even the Count of Staviana was a mess.

Even ten bodies wouldn’t be enough for all this.

What Yohan truly needed was time.

Thankfully, a sliver of breathing room had appeared.

Thanks to a few people handling chores for him.

The Imp, Ilea, even Gaf. The Imp would bring back a living sacrifice, and Ilea would investigate Apostle Ganish thoroughly.

Gaf had ended up handling most of the small tasks in the castle. Somehow, it had just worked out that way. He was more capable than Yohan expected.

Whatever the case, Yohan had bought himself time.

He closed his eyes, sorting through the situation.

Since his possession, Yohan had always faced the same questions.

Why had he possessed someone in Inmalog? Who had abducted him? What did that entity want from him? Naturally, he hadn’t found any answers, so he’d simply shoved those questions aside.

Survival came first, he’d told himself. He kept repeating his priorities.

But now his thinking has shifted slightly.

The moment he recognized the rift and the Ganish placed within it, a new perspective opened.

The being that had abducted Yohan into the novel clearly wanted something.

If he could uncover that being’s identity and demands, he might find a direction beyond simple “survival.”

Perhaps, depending on that, he might even return to his original world.

Yohan stared up at the ceiling and murmured,

“…Say what you want.”

Of course, no answer came.

It was expected, so he felt no disappointment.

He only made a promise to himself. That he would no longer neglect the task of identifying the one who had abducted him and uncovering their intent. He would keep gathering clues.

It was vague for now, and of course, he had to deal with the fire at his feet first.

Yohan clicked his tongue, fidgeting with the invitation the Count of Staviana had sent.

Time to return to reality.

‘Barzen Staviana.’

The Count had crafted a neat excuse to chain down the Baron’s family.

All those excuses were nothing more than groundwork to swallow the Forbidden Archive whole.

The Count was a persistent man. He’d use every method imaginable to seize his goal.

The reason he’d sent two knights was part of that ploy.

To size up the prey and probe for its weaknesses.

But Yohan wouldn’t dance to such childish games. Like a demon, he’d use them instead.

As his thoughts reached that point, the audience chamber door opened.

Gaf stepped in and spoke.

“They’re gone.”

He was referring to Myra and Campbell.

“You’re sure?”

“Sure? I saw them leaving the castle with my own eyes.”

“Where they went beyond the walls—I don’t know.”

Gaf frowned.

“If you want them tailed, just say it.”

Yohan smirked.

“You’ve gotten sharper. Anyway, I’m asking. Watch their every move. Their routes, the people they meet—if possible, even their conversations. See and hear everything, then report it back.”

Without even answering, Gaf turned to leave.

Yohan added,

“I’m not done talking.”

“What else?”

Yohan paused a moment before speaking.

“As a mercenary, you know how to use a spear, right?”

“A spear? Where’s that coming from?”

“I want to learn spearwork.”

The Holy Relic Espada was a spear.

Even if he corrupted it, its form would remain the same.

“Why spearwork?”

“I’m about to have a spear close to a treasure. It would be a waste to let it sit unused—I intend to put it to work.”

Gaf swept his eyes over Yohan.

“A spear, huh. With your frame, I don’t know how efficient it’ll be.”

“It’s not for me to use in this body, so it doesn’t matter. Just answer the question. Do you know about spearwork or not?”

Gaf snorted.

“Ever hear the story of the mercenary who pierced the heart of the giant bird Corucus?”

The Lion of the East had slain Corucus.

A detail mentioned only briefly in the original story.

“…I think I heard about that.”

“That was me. I did it—with a spear.”

“I see.”

Gaf cleared his throat and said,

“I’ll draw up a curriculum. Training starts tomorrow.”

Without even waiting for Yohan’s response, he walked out.

Yohan stared after him with a slightly blank look.

‘Was he embarrassed?’

He thought maybe he should’ve indulged in the bragging a little.

A dry chuckle escaped Yohan’s lips.