Chapter 42
“You can’t leave this one out. It’s the story of when Ares Balthazar was ambushed while crossing the canyon. Every single one of his companions, except for Ares himself, turned out to be enemy spies. They had lived and fought together for half a year.”
Jean, as always, arrived with a load of something on his back and was busy showing off the collection of items he’d gathered.
Most stories tend to become distorted or romanticized over time, but judging by Ian’s reactions, it seemed that nothing about Ares Balthazar’s life had been exaggerated or embellished. Everything was true.
But the more I listened, the more I felt how tragic and harrowing his life had been. Out of all those countless anecdotes, not one moment had been peaceful.
Ares had to survive constant betrayal, assassination attempts, and torture. I could understand, just a little, why he never let his guard down.
“What’s this?”
Ian, who had been silently observing Jean’s items, asked the question.
“Oh, this stamp? It’s a commemorative stamp they make every year for Lord Ares’s birthday. This one was released four years ago, and it’s the most popular among all the past issues. It took me three years to track it down. I even spent a whole year’s salary on it…”
Rip-
“Agh!”
Ian tore the stamp in half without hesitation. Jean, who had been beaming with pride just moments earlier, clutched his head and let out a wail at the sight.
“No!”
“Ian!”
Ian kicked the back of the bench and shattered it in one swift motion. Then he picked up one of the broken pieces from the ground, snapped it against his knee, and turned it into a weapon in seconds.
Ian, now gripping the wooden club with its sharp, broken end, brought it threateningly to Jean’s neck. Jean, still reeling from the shock of losing his precious stamp, flinched and raised both hands over his head.
Ian spoke in a voice cold as iron.
“Is this your idea of admiration? Circulating nonsense and mocking Ares Balthazar?”
“M… mocking? Never!”
Jean’s face flushed with outrage as he tried to defend himself. But faced with Ian’s sharp gaze, his shoulders quickly drooped.
“Did you think I wouldn’t see the message behind all those gaudy ornaments? I’ve been treated like a common w***e more times than I can count. Even now, four hundred years later… people still…”
“A w***e? That’s not it at all. Sure, the stamp lacked accuracy, but no one looks at Lord Ares Balthazar that way. That’s… that’s blasphemy!”
“Silence, brat.”
“Ian, stop!”
“Aaaaah!”
He raised the club high and swung it. I reached out to stop him as soon as he moved, but it was too late. Jean, sensing his grim fate, let out a scream and shielded his head with both arms. A heavy thud echoed against the floor.
There was a beat of silence.
Jean, eyes tightly shut, slowly peeked one open and scanned the area. His hunched shoulders relaxed slightly. Ian, who just seconds ago looked ready to crack Jean’s skull open, had disappeared.
“Ian?!”
For some reason, he was now sprawled pathetically on the floor. Jean and I, and even the servants watching us from afar, all rushed toward him.
Several servants gathered to flip Ian over. I quickly brought my hand to his nose.
Thankfully, he was still breathing.
Ian had completely passed out.
The mansion was thrown into chaos once again.
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