A Depressed Kendo Player Possesses a Bastard Aristocrat
chapter-100

Time Until Departure

A week had passed.

Winter deepened, blanketing the world in a biting chill.

Frost flowers, transparent and delicate, bloomed profusely on the bare branches of the trees.

The season had undeniably turned to one of crisp, clear snow.

It was a time when everything seemed to freeze solid under the breath of the Winter Goddess.

An unusual atmosphere hung over the Lishite Dukedom.

The reason was, without a doubt, Raiden, the wastrel Young Master who had returned home last week.

"Did you hear? The Young Master is back...?"

"Seriously... You're just finding out now? It's been a whole week..."

"The main house staff must be having a tough time. Cleaning up after the Young Master's messes..."

"Well... That's what I heard, the Young Master... he's become a bit strange..."

Raiden's notoriety as a troublemaker was well-known, but within the mansion, his infamy was amplified tenfold.

The servants, who had borne the brunt of his antics, knew this better than anyone.

As a result, stories about Raiden were constantly circulating among them.

Past incidents, recent rumors, and even his heroic tales from the Academy.

A variety of stories made the rounds, but there was one topic that stood out from the rest.

It was...

"You're saying the Young Master has changed...?"

"That's what I heard...! It's been almost a week since he returned to the mansion, and they say he's been holed up in his room, completely silent."

"No way."

The rumor of Raiden's transformation was a shock to the servants.

The Young Master who used to flip tables and smash ornaments during meals, causing chaos wherever he went...

To think he had become docile was an unbelievable turn of events.

"Maybe he's grounded? But the Young Master wouldn't just..."

"I know, right...? It's strange."

"Should we ask someone from the main house?"

"What would they know? They're all in a frenzy trying to figure out why the Young Master is acting like this all of a sudden."

Speculations ran rampant—was he being punished, was he terminally ill?—but no one could pinpoint the cause of his sudden change.

The young man remained isolated, spending his days in solitude.

"I heard Lady Ariel and his personal maid went to see him the other day, but he sent them away without even showing his face."

"His personal maid... You mean Rachel?"

"Yes. She's the only servant the Young Master ever kept close..."

"Do you think something really happened to him...?"

"......I'm a little worried."

Despite Raiden's past behavior that had earned him their resentment, many of the servants had known him since he was a child, and a sense of concern pervaded the mansion.

"I hope he's alright..."

"......Me too."

.

.

.

As the mansion was steeped in a heavy atmosphere, Steinar sat at his desk, working through a mountain of paperwork.

-Scratch, scratch...

The faint sound of pen against paper filled the air.

His calloused hand moved diligently, filling the blank spaces, completing one document after another.

As he continued working, a visitor arrived.

-Knock, knock...

"...Duke, you summoned me."

A young girl's voice came from behind the door.

Steinar paused, setting his pen down.

He pushed the documents aside and spoke, his voice laced with fatigue.

"Come in."

-Creak...

The soft creak of the hinges broke the silence that had settled in his study.

A young girl peeked her head through the open doorway.

"Ah, Rachel. I apologize for calling you at such a late hour."

"Not at all, Duke."

"Have a seat."

Steinar gestured towards the sofa across from him.

He rubbed his weary face and met her gaze.

"I believe you have an idea why I called for you."

"...It's about the Young Master, isn't it?"

"Indeed."

Steinar nodded curtly.

A shadow fell over the young girl's face.

Steinar frowned slightly, noticing her reaction.

"I've heard from Gilbert about the boy's condition. He said it wasn't good..."

"......"

"Tell me. What exactly happened at the Academy?"

According to the report, Raiden's state was dire.

He had confined himself to his room, refusing to eat properly, and spending his days shrouded in a haze of deathweed smoke.

As far as Steinar could recall, Raiden might have been a troublemaker, but he was no addict.

"What could have driven him to such a state?"

"......"

The girl bit her lip, remaining silent.

Her hesitation only solidified Steinar's suspicion that something was terribly wrong.

A flicker of emotion crossed his usually stoic face.

"...Is he ill?"

"No, that's not it... but..."

"But?"

"He... He's been deeply hurt."

The hesitant girl finally spoke.

She recounted the events of the past few weeks.

How Raiden had risked his life to defend the Academy from the attack.

How he was subsequently misunderstood and ostracized by his peers.

And how, unable to bear the weight of their accusations and his own grief, he had crumbled.

Steinar listened in silence, absorbing the tragic tale.

"...That's all I know."

A heavy quiet filled the study as Rachel finished her account.

The silence was broken by Steinar's heavy sigh.

"I don't know what to say..."

"......"

"Are you telling me that boy... tried to take his own life?"

His voice was laced with a chilling realization.

Rachel could only nod, her expression pained.

"...Damn it."

Steinar cursed under his breath, his hand flying to his forehead.

The thought of his son attempting suicide was unbearable.

"...And how is he now?"

"I'm not sure..."

"What do you mean, you're not sure?"

"Lady Ariel and I have been visiting the Young Master's room every day, but... he won't even speak to us. Not even when the Lady begs him through tears."

"This is serious..."

Even in his wildest days, Raiden had always at least pretended to listen to Ariel...

Steinar's face was etched with worry. He straightened himself, regaining his composure.

"I'll find a way to make things right... Whether it's punishing those responsible or razing their entire families to the ground."

"But the Young Master..."

"As for the boy... I leave him in your care. It should be a father's duty, but I'm afraid my clumsiness will only worsen things."

Steinar's voice was heavy with a father's anguish as he looked at the young maid.

"Please, save my son."

"...I'll do my best."

Rachel bowed her head, promising to try. As she left the study, her face was pale, and her hands were clenched into fists.

Through trembling lips, she whispered,

"I'm sorry, Duke... I can't stop the Young Master..."

His words echoed cruelly in her ears.

-You won't, will you?

-You promised you'd always be on my side.

-That's what you said, Rachel.

The boy she loved kept whispering to her, begging her to let him go.

"...I made a promise."

Tears streamed down her face, hot and relentless.

She choked back a sob and forced herself to move, leaving behind only a few cold teardrops on the floor.

.

.

.

-Click, hiss...

A small spark flickered and vanished in the darkness.

The stick held between my fingers glowed red, releasing a plume of gray smoke.

The flame danced, a mesmerizing spectacle.

I stared at the ephemeral beauty before taking a drag.

"Huff, puff..."

How many deathweed sticks had I gone through?

I had lost count long ago.

I exhaled, watching the ashes pile up on the floor.

Smoke, smoke, and more smoke—that was all that seemed to leave my lips.

Through my hazy vision, I noticed the calendar by my bedside.

My head throbbed, making it difficult to focus.

"Ugh... It's been a week already...?"

The days had melted into a blur of deathweed and sleep, distorting my sense of time.

The realization startled me.

"...A whole week wasted on this."

What a healthy way to spend my remaining time.

I chuckled dryly, the sound swallowed by the smoke. I glanced around the room.

The faint red glow filtering through the heavy curtains told me it was evening.

"Just one more... Then I'll try to sleep again."

I picked up the deathweed case from the floor, muttering to myself.

There was no point in doing anything else while I waited for my status window to return.

Besides, I wouldn't be in this world for much longer anyway.

I might as well spend my remaining time sleeping.

-Click, hiss...

I lit another stick and brought it to my lips.

Just then, a soft knock came from behind the closed door.

-Knock, knock...

-It's me, brother...

"......"

My hand froze at the familiar voice.

...Ariel.

She was here again.

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