IWMHWD 12

Chapter 12 – Master and Disciple
2023.11.12.

“Master, can I look at this?”

“Sure.”

Leonard nodded indifferently. Cordelia carefully read through the report.

To her surprise, it contained detailed records of corrupt acts committed by nobles affiliated with Abrams, including Helena.

“Is all of this true?”

“Unless the baron went senile, it should be.”

“I thought you made it all up just to bring down the countess.”

After all, the lovers Helena supposedly imprisoned in the dungeon that day were nowhere to be found in the castle.

Later, when Helena found out, she threw a fit and accused Leonard of framing her, but by then it was far too late.

“She admitted she had lovers with her own mouth, so that’s the end of that.”

“Then, is it true that she sold off tax collection rights to merchants without permission, just like it says here?”

“That’s just the tip of the iceberg. The rest is even more ridiculous.”

The report even detailed exactly how much money Helena had pocketed by selling tax rights to merchants.

“If we show this, you could get a ton of compensation in the divorce.”

Cordelia chuckled and laid the report down on the desk. Leonard glanced at her and spoke casually.

“If you want it, take it.”

“What? This? Really? I can have it?”

Her eyes sparkled as she asked again. Leonard waved his hand like it was a bother.

“Use it to blackmail her for as much compensation as you want, just stop drinking wine with your brain.”

“What? What does that even mean?”

“You’re already not that bright—what if the wine damages your brain even more?”

Leonard said sarcastically. Cordelia was about to snap back when Baron suddenly appeared out of nowhere, clicking his tongue.

“Oh dear, Master. You could’ve just said you were worried.”

“Worried, my foot. I’m just too embarrassed to admit she’s my student.”

Leonard tapped the armrest of his chair habitually with his finger.

“Other kids join the Magic Association at five. If she wants to catch up, she’s got to work twice as hard.”

“What? How could I catch up with them? I’m just aiming to be a simple assistant…”

Her modest dream was to learn a few support spells and work as a magic appraiser, making a modest living.

But Leonard scowled the moment she mentioned “support magic.”

“What? Support magic? You really plan to become an appraiser or whatever?”

“Yes. What’s wrong with being a magic appraiser?”

“Ridiculous. Absolutely not.”

“W-Why not…?”

Her carefully planned life was denied in an instant. She tried to protest timidly, but as always, Leonard didn’t listen.

“You’re my first student. That means, at the very least, you should be able to run your own school by the time you’re twenty-five.”

“Master, only five mages in history have done that. And Cordelia is only twenty this year.”

“Five years is plenty.”

Cordelia no longer flinched at Baron popping out of random places like water cups or washbasins. She blinked and asked him,

“You mentioned this before, but what exactly does it mean to run a school?”

“It means establishing a faction in your name, something only those who have mastered magic to a deep extent can do.”

“Wait… create a faction? At twenty-five? But I just want to learn support…”

“Baron, why are you so negative when we haven’t even started yet?”

“Exactly. The fact she hasn’t even started is the real problem. Most people never achieve that in their lifetime. And you think it’s possible in five years?”

“Hmph. If she’s my student, that much is expected. She’ll read five papers a day on three hours of sleep, and she’ll get there.”

One phrase caught Cordelia’s attention immediately.

“Wait a second, Master? If I sleep only three hours a day, I’ll die. I don’t need to run a school, I’m fine just learning support—”

“Three hours? That’s generous. Even one hour a day might not be enough.”

“Exactly. If one hour is all she gets, then that’s all she gets. No need to worry about it. My student should be able to handle that.”

Just like that, seven hours of Cordelia’s precious sleep disappeared. She screamed internally.

Just then, Baron suddenly vanished. A moment later, a maid’s voice came from outside the door.

“Viscount Dylan has arrived.”

Before Leonard could give permission, Arnold Dylan strolled in without hesitation.

The moment he saw Leonard, he approached with a wide, exaggerated smile.

“Oh, Craig! How have you been?”

“Who?”

“It’s me—your uncle. Hmm, seems like your memory’s still not fully back.”

A flicker of intent crossed Arnold’s eyes. His thoughts were plain to see.

Cordelia greeted him with a polite bow, but as usual, Arnold ignored her completely.

“You’re here to see how much of my memory has returned, aren’t you?”

“Haha, of course not. I just wanted to see my dear nephew’s face and catch up.”

“Then why didn’t you greet the countess?”

“Greet her? I did when I saw her earlier.”

“If the viscount sees the countess, proper etiquette says he should greet her first. Isn’t that just common sense?”

“……”

Arnold’s face flushed red. But he quickly regained his composure and forced a smile toward Cordelia.

“Yes, Cordelia. Haha. Long time no see.”

“Yes…”

It was the first time she’d ever heard a proper greeting from him in a whole year living there. It was awkward and hollow.

To see him flip his attitude the moment Leonard said something—it was almost laughable.

Arnold lowered his voice and leaned toward Leonard.

“More importantly, Craig, I have something urgent to discuss.”

“You clearly came to talk, so I won’t stop you. Go ahead.”

“H-Haha. You’ve changed your tone a bit. But as I said, I’m your uncle, Craig.”

“Funny. I’ve never had an uncle who didn’t visit once during the five months his nephew was unconscious.”

“Well… I’ve been busy. You wouldn’t know since you’ve been in bed, but Abrams wouldn’t function a single day without me. I’ve been swamped these past five months.”

Arnold puffed himself up with importance, talking at length. Leonard, growing visibly annoyed, cut him off.

“So. What do you want?”

“Ahem. What I mean is… you can’t do this alone. Do you know how many people oppose your succession? If you’re not careful, Jared Abrams will take your title!”

“Hm.”

“Russell, Vincent, and Menias are all siding with Jared now. Those fools don’t even know their place!”

Arnold’s voice rose with indignation. Leonard, however, looked increasingly bored.

“I’ll handle that. You don’t need to worry.”

“Craig! How can you say that? We’re your family. No one wants you to become the count more than us!”

“Family? Who?”

“Well, Helena and I, of course! I heard about Helena. Yes, it’s shameful. But she’s still your mother. If you focus on trivial matters, you’ll miss the bigger picture.”

“So embezzling family funds is a trivial matter to you?”

“That was… a misunderstanding. I looked into it. There was no such thing. Whatever you heard, you’re mistaken.”

Arnold said shamelessly.

Leonard already had plenty of evidence proving Arnold’s embezzlement, but he didn’t even bother to bring it up.

“Listen, Viscount Dylan, was it?”

“How rude! Craig, I’m your—”

“Whether you’re an uncle or whatever, don’t pretend we’re family. It’s disgusting.”

The air froze.

Or maybe Cordelia was the only one who felt that way. Stiff with tension, she glanced between Leonard and Arnold.

Arnold’s face turned crimson. His lips quivered, and his fists trembled with rage.

Leonard, of course, didn’t flinch.

“If you’ve said everything, get out. I won’t be needing your help.”