The Terminally Ill Young Master is the Mad Dog of the Underworld - Chapter 38

Chapter 38: The Survivors of Eisenach

“It started recently. I heard that the Young Master manifested sword energy after consuming honey sent by the mountain tribes.”

In the bedroom, which had become a curtained private chamber, Joseph sat in a chair and began to tell his story.

“My teacher mentioned that medicinal honey is hard to come by. It’s particularly valuable in compounding medicines and elixirs because it harmonizes well with other energies.”

“I see.”

“But then I noticed something strange. While some medicinal ingredients and herbs remain difficult to obtain, others have become surprisingly abundant in the market lately.”

Joseph explained as he gestured with his hands.

“The common thread is that both types are supplied by the mountain tribes. You see, for physicians, mages, and alchemists like us, the mountain tribes are major suppliers. Generally, the finest elixirs grow in treacherous, uninhabited mountains, and the same goes for rare magical beasts and unusual creatures.”

I had heard from Peter that the mountain folk traded these items to obtain goods they lacked.

“And?”

“As you know, not everything is traded in broad daylight. Many items can’t be sold openly at market stalls. Such things inevitably go through the black market…”

“I’m aware of that part. Get to the point.”

“Yes, well…”

Seeing Joseph’s mouth going dry, Peter offered him a glass of water.

“Ah, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Please continue comfortably.”

“Sigh. This isn’t exactly a comfortable matter to discuss.”

Joseph seemed to become aware of my seriousness and cleared his throat before continuing.

“Anyway, the mountain tribes have been supplying various medicines and herbs through Underworld channels. However, as I mentioned, some of the items that recently started appearing in the market are rather unusual.”

“…Don’t tell me you mean the supplier of these items is…?”

I asked incredulously, and Joseph squeezed his eyes shut.

“Young Master, I’m not entirely certain.”

“You wouldn’t suspect without reason.”

“…These items were previously supplied exclusively by tribes affiliated with the Eisenach. They had special methods of preparation that other tribes couldn’t replicate.”

Olivier spoke up after listening quietly for a while.

“Young Master, it’s not impossible. While most of the Eisenach direct line perished, there are still some whose fates remain unconfirmed.”

“Who are they?”

“…Your cousin brother and your maternal grand-uncle.”

It was written in the diary too.

My cousin brother who was seven years older, had a bold and dignified personality, and the maternal grand-uncle loved his grandson-nephew as much as he loved his nephew.

“…Perhaps those two are somewhere in the underworld.”

“Young Master.”

Olivier spoke with a concerned expression.

“This is merely speculation.”

“I know.”

But Joseph’s story wasn’t finished yet.

“Let me show you concrete evidence.”

Joseph pulled out a sealed glass vial from his pocket.

“This is a deadly poison that could kill a buffalo with just a pinch… eek!”

Olivier had already drawn a dagger and pressed it against Joseph’s throat.

“What exactly are you trying to do?”

“W-w-wait, just a moment!”

Joseph hastily explained, looking like he might wet himself any second.

“This can’t be opened without a special method! It’s absolutely not dangerous!”

“Olivier. You can let him go.”

“Ahem. My apologies.”

Olivier cleared his throat and tucked the dagger back into his garment.

“It seems I misunderstood.”

“No, no, I was too careless to suddenly…”

“That’s true. If you were with any of my other siblings, your head might have rolled before you had a chance to explain.”

“I’m sorry! Hic!”

Joseph was so startled he began hiccupping.

“I’m sorry Hic! I’ll continue the explanation Hic! I’m sorry.”

“…Have some water first.”

I sighed. The tense atmosphere had suddenly dissipated.

Looking at him more and more, I see that he seemed rather simple, almost like…

“Just like our idiot, Peter.”

“Hey, that’s quite the sudden attack.”

Even Peter drew the line there, apparently finding it pathetic.

‘What a cold-hearted boy.’

“By the way, that was impressive. Where did that dagger come from? Such swift technique.”

I applauded while looking at Olivier.

“Ahem, that’s not the important matter here.”

After drinking lukewarm water and taking deep breaths to finally calm his hiccups, Joseph pointed to the glass vial and spoke.

“You’ve all probably heard the saying that poison and medicine are separated by a fine line.”

Peter nodded a beat late after checking my and Olivier’s reactions.

“Stop lying. We all know you didn’t know that.”

“Hehe, sorry. But now that I think about it, maybe I have heard it somewhere.”

Peter scratched his neck.

“…This poison has extremely powerful anesthetic properties. That’s why skilled surgeons use it as an anesthetic to reduce patients’ pain during major operations.”

“Ah, I see.”

“The problem is that the method of obtaining this poison is almost unknown. The accepted theory is that it’s extracted from a special venomous insect, but only the Eisenach family had exclusive knowledge of this process. That’s why it’s been nearly depleted over the past seven years. We’ve had to make do with less effective anesthetics.”

I could guess what came next.

“So you’re saying that coincidentally, this item has recently appeared in the black market?”

“Exactly. Because of this, those in the know are saying that survivors of the Eisenach family might have established themselves somewhere in the Underworld.”

This is information that would be difficult to notice for anyone who isn’t a physician.

“…So that’s why you wanted to tell me this story.”

I looked at Joseph’s face. Was he trying to deceive me? My instinct says no.

Though he seems somewhat simple, he’s a man who wouldn’t abandon his duties as a physician. He simply felt sympathy for his patient.

‘But good intentions don’t always lead to good results.’

Even if this information itself is true, perhaps the source of the information itself could be someone’s bait to draw me out.

‘Why? I don’t know either.’

Perhaps there’s no intention behind any of this, and only my suspicion exists. I won’t exclude either possibility.

However, there was something else I needed to do now.

“Joseph, I express my gratitude.”

“Ah.”

Joseph was taken aback, as if he hadn’t expected such words in this serious atmosphere.

“Why are you so surprised?”

“T-truthfully, I thought you might become furious or rebuke me.”

“Me? Why?”

“…Because it’s an uncertain story, and not a pleasant one to hear either.”

“If you thought that, you’ve taken me for too much of a hothead.”

A pfft! The sound of something was heard.

“I-I’m sorry.”

Peter apologized with a dejected face.

“So you couldn’t hold it in after all.”

“Waaah, I’m really worthless.”

“You might be pathetic, but not that much.”

I pointed at Olivier.

“I saw your nostrils flare slightly just now.”

“…”

Olivier turned his head away.

“Anyway, let’s summarize. There might be survivors from my mother’s family hiding somewhere. To verify if this is true, we need to track the herb sales routes.”

“Yes. Even to my ears, this sounds like a possibility.”

Olivier shared my thoughts.

“But, wouldn’t the Underworld be too dangerous? Wouldn’t it be better to ask His Grace the Duke or the Head Butler to investigate…”

That’s really showing your ignorance. Finding people in the Underworld? That’s my specialty.

“…”

I kept quiet for a moment. The three of them remained silent as well.

‘My prediction was right.’

I had thought for some time that some of my maternal relatives might have gone into hiding in the Underworld.

After all, the Underworld is the cradle of night that embraces all manner of fugitives, losers, traitors, and exiles.

‘But hearing direct circumstantial evidence is another matter.’

I thought about the Eisenach family members whom I have no memories of, but whom Allenvert had so desperately wanted to see.

How many are still alive?

What feelings do they live with?

‘Do they dream of revenge, or have they despaired at reality?’

Are they spending their time as if dead, with broken spirits?

…Like my mother, Lusatia Grunewald.

“Olivier, Peter.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Yes sir!”

I spoke while looking at the two of them.

“Keep today’s matters strictly confidential.”

“Young Master. What do you intend to do?”

Olivier looked straight at me, as if ready to object depending on my answer, regardless of who I am.

“If they are in the Underworld, I shall rightfully seek them out and embrace them.”

“Young Master.”

“I know what you’re worried about.”

I said.

“But think about it. If the current tribal chief is a usurper who stole the throne through rebellion, who has the right and justification to challenge that throne?”

“…Surely not…”

“Those with justification to challenge the one who stole the throne would be none other than those from whom it was stolen. It’s no coincidence that a prince of a fallen nation holds value.”

Olivier nodded heavily.

“But aren’t you looking too far ahead?”

“Even if the destination is far, it’s a navigator’s job to consult the map before setting sail.”

I walked to the window and pulled back the curtain.

“Look, no matter where those sailing ships are headed, to reach their destination, they mustn’t doubt their course even in the endless ocean. They watch the North Star at night and consult maps during the day. Isn’t that right?”

I smiled at Olivier.

“Achieving great works is just like this. Olivier. Isn’t this the kind of ambitious master you wanted?”

Olivier didn’t answer. But he didn’t deny it either. That meant this man wasn’t one to draw a line at being just a butler, limiting his own ambitions.

“Joseph. I’m sorry, but we should end here for today.”

“Understood.”

As Joseph withdrew with a solemn face, I looked at Peter and Olivier in turn.

“Tomorrow, I’ll need both of you to help me with something.”

.

.

.

And that evening, I finally received permission to leave the castle grounds.

“My, they sure made me wait long enough. Thought my neck would fall off from waiting.”

Even while grumbling like this, I smiled happily.

Why wouldn’t I?

‘Finally.’

The time had come to return to my beloved Underworld.

* * *

The elderly head maid walked down the pitch-dark corridor that denied even light. Only the click-clack of her shoe heels echoed.

“My Lady.”

She spoke words as hollow as an echo toward a door that gave no response.

“…Young Master Allen will be going out for an inspection outside the castle tomorrow.”

The head maid counted to ten in her heart, then placed a note under the door.

“I shall take my leave. Rest peacefully.”

The heel sounds faded away, and silence descended upon the corridor once again.

Several minutes, or perhaps several tens of seconds passed-

Creeeak.

…The door opened.

———