Was it a year ago?
It was the first day that his son, who he had only considered to be a little ill, started to become completely ill.
"Father..."
“Yes, Genos. Father is here. Are you awake, my child?”
“Heath... Heath...”
“Heath? Why are you suddenly bringing up the name of your dead cousin?”
“No, he’s dead. He’s here, Father...”
"What?"
“Here, here, he's staring at me. He's trying to take me, take me away....”
“What is that...”
At that time, the Count thought his son was talking nonsense because of the boiling heat.
'But was that really true? That guy really stuck by our Genos and drained his life force...'
Before his thoughts could even finish, his feet moved.
The Count ran to his son's room with a pale face and opened the door wide.
The Count felt a chill run down his spine as the cool air poured in through the gap in the door.
Strangely, he felt this way whenever he went to his son's room.
He couldn't understand why it was so bleak and cold even though the sun was shining brightly.
'Is this also because of the ghost of Heath?'
He hesitated for a moment, then entered the room cautiously.
“Are you here, Count?”
The maid who was wiping the son's body with a wet towel bowed.
The Count dismissed the maid with a wave of his hand and sat down at the bedside, staring blankly down at the child.
The child's hair, which was disheveled on his forehead, was slightly wet, perhaps because the maid had just wiped it with a towel.
His body was so weak that he was careful not to let even a single drop of water affect his body, but the rough texture of the skin caught his fingertips.
When he was young, his skin was as soft as any other child's, but now it felt like the skin of a corpse.
'Are you really trying to die?'
It was not someone else's words, but the words of a Saintess.
Although the Count got angry and ignored her in front of her, he couldn't help but feel anxious.
“Ha, Genos...”
The Count pressed his forehead against the child's round forehead and let out a deep sigh.
He remembered the day his son was born, nine years ago in the fall.
A child with brown hair and eyes as blue as the sea, just like himself.
How happy he was to see this child crying loudly with a clear voice.
He thought there was nothing he wouldn't do for this child.
That's why.
It was he who killed his older brother, who became a national hero and elevated his family to the rank of Count, with his own hands, his only blood-related brother.
Not only did he secretly touch the carriage wheel and have his men roll the carriage off a cliff, but he also personally gave his brother, who was skilled in martial arts, tea laced with sleeping pills before setting off, just in case an accident occurred.
Is that all?
He even killed his own nephew, who was only five years old.
Giving a child poison when he only has a simple cold.
He didn't even blink an eye as he watched his nephew cry, "Uncle, please save me. It hurts so much," with his insides completely destroyed and blood gushing out.
Because he wanted to raise his son in a better environment.
Because he wanted to raise him as a noble with a title, not just a noble in name only like himself, and to grow up to be the next lord of a region.
But how could such a son die?
It was literally dark before his eyes.
'If I confess my sins and repent, will Genos' life be saved?'
He quietly pondered Shayne's advice, then shook his head.
'That won't do.'
If that fact comes to light, it will be a blow not only to himself but also to his son.
Even if Genos doesn't get punished because he didn't directly participate, he will have to live your whole life with the stigma of being the child of a criminal and being pointed at by others.
He cut off his family ties in the hopes that his son would grow up in better conditions, but wouldn't that just lead him into an even worse environment?
That was impossible.
'Yeah, that's bullshit.'
It must have been something the Saintess said to scare people when she accidentally discovered his sins.
The Count tried to rationalize and held his son's lukewarm hand tightly.
The Count, who had not been able to leave his son's room all day, went to his bedroom late at night.
Because he was so physically and mentally exhausted, he lay down on the bed without washing up, and his wife immediately scolded him.
“What is it? You haven’t even changed your clothes. It looks like you haven’t even washed.”
“Everything is bothersome today. Just leave me alone.”
“Oh, really. Even if you don’t wash, you should change your clothes. How can you even think about going to bed with dusty clothes? Not even thinking about the person you’re sleeping with.”
The wife who had been nagging him constantly brought the pajamas that were prepared on the nightstand and helped him change into his clothes herself.
“But where are you hurting? Why do you look so pale?”
“I just have a bit of a headache. Oh, by the way, did His Highness the Crown Prince leave?”
“No. He’s still at the mansion. He’s staying one more day.”
“What? Why?!”
The Count shouted.
His wife, who was clutching her chest and trying to calm her surprised heart, stammered and answered.
“The carriage problem hasn’t been resolved yet, so they’ll have to stay for another day...”
“What the hell! Why is the carriage the Crown Prince rides in so shabby? It’s shiny on the outside, but it’s full of sins on the inside...!”
“Are you crazy?”
The lady hastily covered the Count's mouth.
“Why would you say such rude things if someone were to hear you? How careless!”
“Oh, who would dare come this far? The Crown Prince and his entourage are all staying on the third floor.”
As the Count irritably shook his hand away, his wife let out a sigh.
“You were the one who used to pester the whole house to get a stamp on your eye... Why are you acting like this all of a sudden? Come to think of it, I heard you left breakfast before the guests this morning. Did something happen then?”
“That’s not it.”
“No, what is it? Otherwise, why would you leave your precious guests behind? Is it because I’m not feeling well and can’t go out? Did you hear that the hostess said that she didn’t even show her face when the precious guests came?”
“Well, I said no!”
The Count suddenly lost his temper.
“Why are you talking so much today? It’s so noisy, I’m dying. I’m losing my mind, so get out of here!”
“No, this is my bedroom, where do you want me to go?”
“Oh, go and check on Anna! I’ve been checking on her in her room all day today, and she hasn’t come in even once. And you’re her mother?”
“No, that’s because I’m not feeling well today and I’m afraid I might pass the disease on to the child...!”
“Yes, so get out!”
The Count, who had forcefully kicked out his wife who was making excuses as if it was absurd, lay down on the bed again, powerless.
He had been having ominous thoughts all day, and after arguing with his wife, he had no energy at all.
The Count, who had been rubbing his shoulders that felt as heavy as a ton, was about to close his eyes.
Phew-
A sudden gust of wind passed by him.
The air was so cold and chilly that it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
“Where does this cold air come from in the middle of summer..."
The Count checked the windows, wondering if the maid had forgotten to close them, but they were all closed.
“Is it because I’m in a bad mood?”
It was the moment when the Count, who had been wondering, was about to lie down on the bed again.
“Uncle.”
The Count's body froze at the sound of a soft voice coming from somewhere.
'Uncle.'
He had only one brother, his dead older brother. Naturally, there was only one person who could call him uncle.
'But that kid...'
At that moment, what Shayne had said at breakfast flashed through the Count's mind.
“This is not the time to deny it. The spirit of your nephew, whom you poisoned, has become a vengeful spirit and is sucking the life out of your son. If this continues...”
'No way...'
The Count, who had been looking around anxiously with a thoughtful face, suddenly lost the strength in his legs and collapsed on the floor.
“Hee, hiss.”
A child standing in a dark corner, gushing red blood and looking at him with resentful eyes.
Just before his breath stopped, there was a glimpse of his nephew.
“Do you remember me?”
“Yes, how did you...”
The Count's face was now so pale that it could no longer be seen.
“Is it true that you have become a vengeful spirit like the Saintess said? Are you sucking the life out of my son? Is it true that my son, Genos, is sick...!”
“Yes, Uncle. It was my fault. I hurt Genos.”
“Wh, why on earth... what crime did that child commit!”
“My uncle killed me, an innocent man.”
“Wh, what?”
“You killed my father and me, who were innocent, just because you wanted to pass the title to Genos.”
“That, that is...!”
It was at that moment that the Count, speechless for a moment, stuttered.
It was the first day that his son, who he had only considered to be a little ill, started to become completely ill.
"Father..."
“Yes, Genos. Father is here. Are you awake, my child?”
“Heath... Heath...”
“Heath? Why are you suddenly bringing up the name of your dead cousin?”
“No, he’s dead. He’s here, Father...”
"What?"
“Here, here, he's staring at me. He's trying to take me, take me away....”
“What is that...”
At that time, the Count thought his son was talking nonsense because of the boiling heat.
'But was that really true? That guy really stuck by our Genos and drained his life force...'
Before his thoughts could even finish, his feet moved.
The Count ran to his son's room with a pale face and opened the door wide.
The Count felt a chill run down his spine as the cool air poured in through the gap in the door.
Strangely, he felt this way whenever he went to his son's room.
He couldn't understand why it was so bleak and cold even though the sun was shining brightly.
'Is this also because of the ghost of Heath?'
He hesitated for a moment, then entered the room cautiously.
“Are you here, Count?”
The maid who was wiping the son's body with a wet towel bowed.
The Count dismissed the maid with a wave of his hand and sat down at the bedside, staring blankly down at the child.
The child's hair, which was disheveled on his forehead, was slightly wet, perhaps because the maid had just wiped it with a towel.
His body was so weak that he was careful not to let even a single drop of water affect his body, but the rough texture of the skin caught his fingertips.
When he was young, his skin was as soft as any other child's, but now it felt like the skin of a corpse.
'Are you really trying to die?'
It was not someone else's words, but the words of a Saintess.
Although the Count got angry and ignored her in front of her, he couldn't help but feel anxious.
“Ha, Genos...”
The Count pressed his forehead against the child's round forehead and let out a deep sigh.
He remembered the day his son was born, nine years ago in the fall.
A child with brown hair and eyes as blue as the sea, just like himself.
How happy he was to see this child crying loudly with a clear voice.
He thought there was nothing he wouldn't do for this child.
That's why.
It was he who killed his older brother, who became a national hero and elevated his family to the rank of Count, with his own hands, his only blood-related brother.
Not only did he secretly touch the carriage wheel and have his men roll the carriage off a cliff, but he also personally gave his brother, who was skilled in martial arts, tea laced with sleeping pills before setting off, just in case an accident occurred.
Is that all?
He even killed his own nephew, who was only five years old.
Giving a child poison when he only has a simple cold.
He didn't even blink an eye as he watched his nephew cry, "Uncle, please save me. It hurts so much," with his insides completely destroyed and blood gushing out.
Because he wanted to raise his son in a better environment.
Because he wanted to raise him as a noble with a title, not just a noble in name only like himself, and to grow up to be the next lord of a region.
But how could such a son die?
It was literally dark before his eyes.
'If I confess my sins and repent, will Genos' life be saved?'
He quietly pondered Shayne's advice, then shook his head.
'That won't do.'
If that fact comes to light, it will be a blow not only to himself but also to his son.
Even if Genos doesn't get punished because he didn't directly participate, he will have to live your whole life with the stigma of being the child of a criminal and being pointed at by others.
He cut off his family ties in the hopes that his son would grow up in better conditions, but wouldn't that just lead him into an even worse environment?
That was impossible.
'Yeah, that's bullshit.'
It must have been something the Saintess said to scare people when she accidentally discovered his sins.
The Count tried to rationalize and held his son's lukewarm hand tightly.
***
The Count, who had not been able to leave his son's room all day, went to his bedroom late at night.
Because he was so physically and mentally exhausted, he lay down on the bed without washing up, and his wife immediately scolded him.
“What is it? You haven’t even changed your clothes. It looks like you haven’t even washed.”
“Everything is bothersome today. Just leave me alone.”
“Oh, really. Even if you don’t wash, you should change your clothes. How can you even think about going to bed with dusty clothes? Not even thinking about the person you’re sleeping with.”
The wife who had been nagging him constantly brought the pajamas that were prepared on the nightstand and helped him change into his clothes herself.
“But where are you hurting? Why do you look so pale?”
“I just have a bit of a headache. Oh, by the way, did His Highness the Crown Prince leave?”
“No. He’s still at the mansion. He’s staying one more day.”
“What? Why?!”
The Count shouted.
His wife, who was clutching her chest and trying to calm her surprised heart, stammered and answered.
“The carriage problem hasn’t been resolved yet, so they’ll have to stay for another day...”
“What the hell! Why is the carriage the Crown Prince rides in so shabby? It’s shiny on the outside, but it’s full of sins on the inside...!”
“Are you crazy?”
The lady hastily covered the Count's mouth.
“Why would you say such rude things if someone were to hear you? How careless!”
“Oh, who would dare come this far? The Crown Prince and his entourage are all staying on the third floor.”
As the Count irritably shook his hand away, his wife let out a sigh.
“You were the one who used to pester the whole house to get a stamp on your eye... Why are you acting like this all of a sudden? Come to think of it, I heard you left breakfast before the guests this morning. Did something happen then?”
“That’s not it.”
“No, what is it? Otherwise, why would you leave your precious guests behind? Is it because I’m not feeling well and can’t go out? Did you hear that the hostess said that she didn’t even show her face when the precious guests came?”
“Well, I said no!”
The Count suddenly lost his temper.
“Why are you talking so much today? It’s so noisy, I’m dying. I’m losing my mind, so get out of here!”
“No, this is my bedroom, where do you want me to go?”
“Oh, go and check on Anna! I’ve been checking on her in her room all day today, and she hasn’t come in even once. And you’re her mother?”
“No, that’s because I’m not feeling well today and I’m afraid I might pass the disease on to the child...!”
“Yes, so get out!”
The Count, who had forcefully kicked out his wife who was making excuses as if it was absurd, lay down on the bed again, powerless.
He had been having ominous thoughts all day, and after arguing with his wife, he had no energy at all.
The Count, who had been rubbing his shoulders that felt as heavy as a ton, was about to close his eyes.
Phew-
A sudden gust of wind passed by him.
The air was so cold and chilly that it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
“Where does this cold air come from in the middle of summer..."
The Count checked the windows, wondering if the maid had forgotten to close them, but they were all closed.
“Is it because I’m in a bad mood?”
It was the moment when the Count, who had been wondering, was about to lie down on the bed again.
“Uncle.”
The Count's body froze at the sound of a soft voice coming from somewhere.
'Uncle.'
He had only one brother, his dead older brother. Naturally, there was only one person who could call him uncle.
'But that kid...'
At that moment, what Shayne had said at breakfast flashed through the Count's mind.
“This is not the time to deny it. The spirit of your nephew, whom you poisoned, has become a vengeful spirit and is sucking the life out of your son. If this continues...”
'No way...'
The Count, who had been looking around anxiously with a thoughtful face, suddenly lost the strength in his legs and collapsed on the floor.
“Hee, hiss.”
A child standing in a dark corner, gushing red blood and looking at him with resentful eyes.
Just before his breath stopped, there was a glimpse of his nephew.
“Do you remember me?”
“Yes, how did you...”
The Count's face was now so pale that it could no longer be seen.
“Is it true that you have become a vengeful spirit like the Saintess said? Are you sucking the life out of my son? Is it true that my son, Genos, is sick...!”
“Yes, Uncle. It was my fault. I hurt Genos.”
“Wh, why on earth... what crime did that child commit!”
“My uncle killed me, an innocent man.”
“Wh, what?”
“You killed my father and me, who were innocent, just because you wanted to pass the title to Genos.”
“That, that is...!”
It was at that moment that the Count, speechless for a moment, stuttered.
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