Wortenia Senki (WN)

That night, after finishing a secret conversation with Ryojin Goshiba, Count Bergston dived the back gate of his mansion, which occupies the corner of the aristocratic city as if it were blindfolded.

"Thank you for your hard work. I know you do, but there's no point in saying anything else about tonight."

After stopping at the one who has served for many years, Count Bergston hands over a small leather bag that he has prepared from his nostalgia.

A few of them belong to the Count Bergston family, but the man in front of them is a minister of the spectrum who serves from his grandparents' generations.

I am not from the chivalry class, but I have learned martial arts and am quite hands-on, so I also have the aspect of escort.

Like this one, it was the perfect person for covert behavior that blinded people.

His house is next to the stables of this mansion, where he lives with his family.

As long as it doesn't invade even the bigger failures, his son will also begin his service as an apprentice in the next few years.

Even in that sense, it is only natural that they are far more credible than those who pass by.

Whatever, it's a bad way to say it, but it's like you're holding your family hostage.

But that's why Count Bergston never treats ministers like him crudely.

For there is nothing more important to the nobility than a trusted minister.

Indeed, the public appreciation that nobility is arrogant, cold and ruthless is not wrong.

But it is also true that it is only one aspect of the existence of nobility.

They were not foolish enough to think that they could maintain their current position on their own.

To be more precise, fools who cannot understand it cannot keep their homes.

Eventually, illnesses, accidents, etc. will come and pay for their stupidity.

Kittin 'and bills come around just as strangely as debt. To himself or to his family, or to his volume vote...

"Then it's good to go home now and get some rest. So buy the kid a toy."

"I'm afraid... bye"

The man, who gently ascertained in his hand the weight of the bag he had been given, bowed his head gently and returned to the platform without opening his extra mouth, quietly advancing the horse.

Time is already late at night.

A time when the commonly known grass trees are also said to be three ugly times to sleep.

Well, like a modern Japanese downtown, you don't have to know if it's a pleasant neighborhood like the one you call a sleepless city, and it's a time when everyone can dream in their own beds if they're normal people.

That is no different in the House of the Count of Bergston, a nobleman.

The lights were dropped and the dark mansion.

Neither do the servants dream that the owner of the mansion will return home at this hour.

Is the exception like the night police gatekeeper who opened the back door?

Inside such a mansion, Count Bergston relies on the lamp lights in his right hand.

Is anybody there?

The moment he tried to turn the door knob in the office, Count Bergston felt signs of people coming from the room and stopped moving.

Clear your ears, you'll hear some paper turning.

(Assassin? No, then I can't act so gloomy...)

It is to the extent that the Earl of Bergston felt signs that he could not even flatter himself as a born samurai, even if he had received some handwriting as an aristocratic samurai.

Assuming that the person in the room is an assassin, that would be a hebo who is second class stupid and can't even be third class.

Besides, the mansion is a separate residence of the Earl of Bergston in the King's Capital.

Even compared to the mansion on the territory, its security is tight.

Besides, there have been other cases of attempted assassination of my brother-in-law and the secret agent who sent me under Ryo Shiba, and the guard's vigilance has increased even further.

At least we can say that none of the assassins are likely to be sneaking indoors.

At the same time, neither his wife, nor the maid entrusted with the management of the mansion turn their basic feet to this room.

Not to mention, I couldn't think of anything like being in this room late at night.

(If……)

In an instant, that much thought passed behind Count Bergston's brain, and he turned the door knob.

"Hernan...... it's still you"

Count Bergston unwittingly sighs at the sight of the situation and dimensionality that floated behind his brain.

Well, no matter how much I trust my brother-in-law, if I do anything in my own office in the middle of the night, I'll be surprised.

No, you can even say it's still rational just not to get angry.

But to Count Bergston's thoughts like that, Count Zeleif showed them back with a flamboyant grin that just said he had nothing to do with his actions.

"Thank you for your hard work late at night. It must have been cold, right?

With that said, the Earl of Zeleif takes a bottle of brandy out of the shelf in a natural motion, as if it were the Lord in this room, and shows it.

It's a pretty poignant behavior to take a step behind Count Bergston, my brother-in-law at all times, given the modest and silent attitude of the usual Count Zeleif.

But Count Bergston will not show his anger at the attitude of his brother-in-law.

I've known my brother-in-law for a long time.

Count Bergston sips away the amber liquid poured into the glass offered.

It's a pretty strong liquor distilled over and over again.

Alcohol burns your guts.

But I was comfortable with Count Bergston, whose burning sensation ended the job.

"I see you talked to that guy safely. Congratulations first."

Apparently, he guessed the results from the look and attitude of his brother-in-law.

"As always, don't get it. I always thought it was a big deal."

"My brother-in-law and I have known each other a long time. Well, not as much as your wife."

Count Bergston laughed bitterly at the words of such a brother-in-law.

Count Bergston and a politician who has survived many political difficulties.

It's not sweet enough to be read from the look on your face into your belly so easily.

Laugh when you're sad and mourn when you want to laugh.

That's what makes a real actor face loser acting.

It's just the two of us in this world who can't get his act through like that.

My wife and my brother-in-law are laughing in front of me.

If you are the wife that you have accompanied for many years, it will not be impossible to be sensitive to the slightest change in Count Bergston.

But Count Zeleif is certainly my trusted brother-in-law, but he doesn't live in the same mansion.

In that sense, it's insightful enough to suspect that a man named Hernan Zeleif even has a vision of people's minds.

Excellent abilities, however, can also be considered dangerous from around.

(Well, I guess that's why this guy is a step off the political tabular stage...)

Looks like a good face for a person in a rounded shape.

appearance that I wouldn't call foolish, but never thought of as a cutter's,

But his true price has nothing to do with appearance.

No, this brother-in-law even acts in calculations for such an impression of his appearance on his surroundings.

From the surroundings of knowing nothing, the Earl of Zeleif is only like a hipster stuck to the Earl of Bergston using blood ties, and the Earl of Zeleif himself is consciously simulating it.

It can be said that it is a cause of great difficulty to discern his strength from the looks of Count Zeleif.

(No... were those guys spotted...)

Behind Count Bergston's brain, the faces of the two men rise.

One, now the late and beloved stepfather.

I lost my political dispute with the Duke of Gerhardt, but at one time I was so personable as to assume full powers as the Chancellor of this Kingdom of Roselia.

The men he chose as son-in-law of his beloved daughters are the Earls of Bergston and Zeleif.

At the time, the whispering royal palace sparrows were twisting their necks about why Count Zeleif was elected son-in-law, but his stepfather was not influenced by such surrounding words.

And another man.

The young reigning king, who became the new master earlier, also attaches great importance to the matter of Count Zeleif.

(Probably more than me...)

Such thoughts pass through the back of the brain, and jealousy disturbs the heart of Count Bergston.

But that's only for a moment.

(It's ridiculous... I'm also a child...)

Count Bergston and Count Zeleif's abilities are clearly another thing.

Political talent and tactical talent.

That would be, by analogy, the same as a fish envying a bird with wings, only like a bird jealous of a fish swimming freely through the water.

I don't deny a mind that wants perfect talent, but I only have to be cautious about imitating it that is driven by jealousy and misjudged.

Anyway, we have a big job ahead of us.

"Well, let's just say I'm listening to your orders."

"Oh, yeah... your stall has asked me to tell you a lot."

Count Bergston nodded deeply at the words of Count Zeleif, sinking his hips to the couch placed in the corner of the room,