Among nobles, there is an old saying.
There are no eternal friends.
Even more so, no eternal bonds between brothers.
No—there are no eternal bonds even between parent and child.
In the face of power, such sentiments are nothing but cumbersome shackles.
Of course, there are countless exceptions.
Even just among the major figures we know, isn't that so?
Luciana, who holds boundless respect for the Sword Duke.
Luke, who follows the Gold Duke, recognizing his abilities as a merchant before his power.
Theodore, who sees the Wealth Duke as a wall he must overcome, both in the civil and martial arts.
Their families belonged not to the typical scheming nobility, but to a normal household.
But the House Roberc of the West was different.
"That family is nothing but a powder keg waiting to explode."
Countless wives, and children so many they could barely be counted.
It was a structure where power struggles were inevitable.
Even the duchesses were entangled in the middle of it.
"Urgh…! F-Father, how could you do that to Mother…?"
The woman retching over there—Camilla's mother—was no different.
The only difference from the other duchesses was that she had crossed her husband's will.
"Well, it seems Lady Roberc is in no condition to ask further questions. I shall continue in her stead."
The ringleader had already been caught.
He wouldn't be able to escape now.
"…Ask whatever you wish."
"So your patron is the Iron-Blooded Duke? Don't you think you're overestimating yourself?"
"Are you suggesting I'm lying?!"
The man flailed his hands, panic written all over his face.
The sight was so pitiful, I couldn't help but sneer.
"Isn't that so? How dare you throw around the name of the Iron-Blooded Duke, stirring up family conflict to find yourself a way out. It reeks of petty scheming."
I made a small gesture, drawing a finger across my throat.
"Well, unless you have proof, it's meaningless."
"Y-Yeah! If what you say is true, prove it! Father would never…!"
I glanced at Camilla.
She clung to my words, desperately denying reality.
It wouldn't be so bad for her to go on never knowing the truth.
She could live a normal academy life, win her father's trust as a normal daughter.
But that won't do for me.
What I wanted wasn't an ordinary noble girl.
What I needed was a comrade who could face future trials and calamities alongside me.
You can't stop here, Camilla Roberc.
Yes.
If she unleashed all her potential, fueled by vengeance and hatred—
Then she would surely qualify as my "companion."
With that thought, I jabbed the chest of the bound witness with my finger.
"Well then, even a scrap of circumstantial evidence will do. After all, this young lady is the best in the world at piecing together puzzles from the smallest clue."
Even a born genius for deduction cannot reach the truth if she never considers a possibility.
But now that the seed of suspicion had been sown, the weeds would inevitably spread.
"Go on. Tell us everything you know—if you want to live."
When you thought about it, the situation was strange.
The West was the land of prisons and law enforcement.
Crime thrived there, yes, but even so—a duchess had been assassinated.
And yet the culprits were able to slip out of the West without consequence?
They weren't phantom thieves or elusive escape artists.
For ordinary people, it should have been impossible.
Unless the Duke of Roberc himself had turned a blind eye.
Or worse—had actively helped them.
"…The Duke commanded us not to speak of it, and erased all evidence."
"Did I not say? Even scraps of evidence will do. Start with the mansion."
At Hans Byron's urging, the man hesitated, then spoke.
"Ah…! Yes, the mansion! It was provided by the Duke himself. A reward for that assassination."
My throat burned.
The truth I had dreaded was bubbling up, making me nauseous.
But Hans gave me no time to recover.
"I see. And what about your government post?"
"…The same."
"Ho? A direct appointment to the imperial bureaucracy without exams—such a thing is only possible through the Duke's power."
Memories struck me like a whip:
The countless criminals Hans had caught.
His keen instinct that revealed a demon hiding within the Empire.
It terrified me.
And before I knew it, my whip lashed out.
"Oh? What's this?"
"Ghk—!"
My mana-twisted whip avoided Hans Byron and coiled around the man's throat.
"Grrk…! This wasn't our deal—"
"Oh dear. Shouldn't we hear him out first?"
"There's nothing more to hear. He's just a pawn. He'll have no real evidence."
"Perhaps a funding source? That could still lead us to—"
"My father—no. The Duke of Roberc has spent his life dealing with criminals. He wouldn't leave such loose ends."
I conjured magic of earth.
The sharp sands of the western desert took shape.
Barbs of grit grew on the whip and dug into his neck.
"Ghhk…!"
But then, a flash of black steel severed the whip's tip.
A dagger—wielded by my supposed ally.
"…Why interfere?!"
How dare he!
This was my revenge—for my mother!
"Cool your head. Nobles of the West may have the right to arrest, but they do not have the right to execute on the spot."
"Hff… Hhh…"
"Yes, breathe. Calm yourself."
His words cooled the fury clouding my head.
And in the rebound from that rage, a bitter laugh escaped me.
"…Heh. How foolish. I should've realized sooner."
If I had considered it possible that Father killed Mother, I might have pieced it together earlier.
But even if I had, nothing would have changed.
He was the Duke of Roberc.
One of the Empire's Four Great Dukes.
…What can I do?
He wasn't like these lackeys I could just capture.
He was the Duke himself.
How can I ever make Father pay?
The law should be strict on criminals.
But there were men above the law.
Despair began to replace my anger.
"For great vengeance, sometimes small vengeance must be set aside."
Hans whispered softly in my ear.
As if to remind me not to give up.
"Why waste your wrath on minnows? The true culprit still lounges on the sands of the West, fat and unrepentant."
Yes.
That man—the Duke.
"Even now he relaxes in his mansion, surrounded by wives, ignoring the power struggles."
"Perhaps he thought one less wife wouldn't matter."
"…Mind your tongue."
"Only a hypothesis. All we know is that he ordered it. His intent remains unclear."
I resisted the urge to strike Hans with my whip.
"So, will you give up? Because he's a Duke?"
"Hmph. Don't presume to judge me. I have always dreamed of avenging Mother."
Even if my enemy was my own father—the Duke—
I would make him pay.
The man lay unconscious, clutching his throat.
Hans, hearing my answer, smiled in satisfaction.
"Excellent. That's the spirit. Without it, your emotions would lose their spice."
"Spare me."
"Well then, since I've tasted such fine emotions, allow me to give you a piece of advice."
That I—a noble of the Empire—would heed the words of a high demon was absurd.
And yet, I listened.
After all, following Hans's lead has never once failed me.
It was through him I went to the Central Thieves' Guild.
Through him I found Mother's killer.
Through him I exposed the assassin's patron.
None of this would have happened without Hans Byron.
"Surely you wonder how to bring justice to such a lofty Duke."
"Tell me."
"It's simple. In demon society, it's common. The strong secure legitimacy, then drag down those above them."
He clapped suddenly.
"Congratulations in advance—future Iron-Blooded Duke."
"…What did you say?"
"To punish a Duke, you need only make him the former Duke."
Rebellion.
A word nobles avoid like plague.
"You even have the perfect pretext. A tyrant who casts aside his wife for power. And a righteous daughter who rises against him!"
"…That won't work, and you know it."
Two flaws in his plan.
First, the Duke would have left no evidence.
No one would believe me with only my word.
Second, I had no power.
Rebellions are led by those with overwhelming strength.
I had none of the influence or might of the Duke of Roberc.
"Pah. Is that all?" Hans scoffed.
"Mark my words. You will surpass the Duke—whether in strength, or in the people's hearts."
It sounded like flattery.
But… it was oddly reassuring.
"And as for evidence? It always lingers at the crime scene. He erased what was obvious, but perhaps something escaped him."
I sighed.
Back to the West. My home.
"But that'll take time. As a student, I can't just leave the academy."
I would have to rely on my contacts in the West, and bide my time until I grew stronger.
But Hans shook his head.
"That's too slow."
"…You have another plan?"
"Of course. We're in the student council, aren't we? One of us is the Disciplinary Chief, the other is Vice President."
His lips curled into a demon's grin.
"With our influence, we can easily steer the next field assignment to the West."
"…You madman."
But the crazy plan was too perfect to deny.
"Yes. That way, we won't need anyone else."
"Will you help me?"
"How could I not? That noble wrath of yours—the exquisite spice of vengeance! Now that it's ripened, I won't let anyone else have it!"
"…Don't say nonsense with such a straight face."
A few days later—
The academy's bulletin board bore a new notice:
[Field Assignment Recruitment]
[Investigation of Anomalies in the West & Recapture of Fugitives]
[Special privileges will be granted to those who achieve excellent results.]