Chapter 3
After thinking for quite a while, Victor reached out and grabbed the silver bell on the table, then shook it.
A clear metallic sound spread through the quiet study.
Summer air slowly slipped in through the half-open window, gently swaying the curtains.
The warm breeze carried the scent of grass and the warmth of the garden heated by the sunlight.
āBring me the newspaper.ā
āYes, Your Grace.ā
Hearing the bell, the butler, Willen, hurried to the study and quickly noticed that his master seemed slightly different from usual.
It seems something did not go well in the capital. Well, that must be why he came to the estate after such a long time.
Thinking that, Willen casually dismissed it from his mind and quickly brought today’s newspaper along with a glass of cool water.
After all, his duty was to serve his master well, not to concern himself with the complicated political situation in the capital.
āā¦ā¦July 1st, 1867?ā
Victor let out a hollow laugh at the absurd date only after he had completely emptied the glass of water.
On the battlefield, drinking a single glass of uncontaminated water was such a luxury, so Victor ordered the butler to bring him something else to drink. He also added that he wanted a cup of coffee.
Have I finally gone insane?
His last memory was of a temporary barracks for wounded soldiers. It had been bombed, and he had probably died there.
Yet somehow, he had returned four years into the past with all four limbs intact.
After calmly confirming that the articles in the newspaper were about events he remembered, he soon headed toward the mirror.
It was something he normally had neither the time nor the reason to look at unless he was getting dressed for a banquet, but right now, it was extremely useful.
āā¦ā¦ā
A man with an imposing build stared back at him from the full-length mirror.
Amazingly, the scar around his eye, which he had gotten during the great war with Franche, had completely disappeared. Or rather, it would be more accurate to say that it had not happened yet.
The knee that had been bothering him after being grazed by a bullet was also perfectly fine.
More than anything, his eyes were different.
There was an unavoidable murderous aura in the eyes of someone who had faced death many times and survived.
But the man in the mirror was quiteā¦ handsome.
In other words, he did not look like a dangerous explosive.
āSo this is what I looked like back then.ā
He soon began undoing the buttons of his shirt.
Even inside the house, he had the suffocating habit of buttoning his shirt all the way to his neck and wearing a vest, but he had no choice right now.
He needed to check his body immediately.
āThis gunshot wound is gone too. Though my body is terribly out of shape.ā
The butler, who had returned with the water and coffee, pretended not to hear his master’s muttering.
It was certainly strange to see his master suddenly strip almost completely in broad daylight and criticize his upper-body muscles, which looked perfectly impressive to the butler.
However, in Bavaria, a family head’s actions were not something one could casually question. Even asking about them could be considered overstepping one’s authority.
Instead, the butler immediately bowed his head at his master’s command.
āGo out and bring me the most famous newspaper reporters.ā
āUnderstood. Would you prefer a political daily newspaper? Or are you looking for something more focused on gossip?ā
Victor’s mouth opened quietly after briefly considering the butler’s question.
āBoth. I’m going to place a marriage advertisement.ā
This time, even the experienced butler could not stop his eyes from widening.
The next day, Victor realized that he was still at his estate.
I never even imagined returning like this. I suppose God scraped together whatever mercy He had left and gave it to me.
Thinking about it indifferently, his next move was to take out a sheet of paper and write down everything he knew.
From trivial things such as the personal information of officers and soldiers to larger matters, such as where and when battles had taken place.
On the last page, he even wrote in considerable detail about why he had been abandoned, where he had eventually been cornered, and what had prevented him from surviving.
The future war between Franche and Richter is something only I know about at this point.
If preventing it was what God wanted, he was willing to do so.
Even during a war, attacking a place where wounded soldiers were being treated was forbidden by international agreements.
If this rule was violated, not only the two countries involved but also the surrounding nations were supposed to unite and condemn the offender.
But Franche seemed to have completely ignored such things and launched an attack anyway.
Which means the beloved King of Richter must have allowed it.
He had been caught between the two kings taking out their anger on each other.
That was how he would summarize it in one sentence.
And because of it, his officers, his soldiers, and his doctors had all died.
Crack.
Perhaps he had gripped the fountain pen too hard, because it snapped in his hand.
After silently mourning the remains of what had once been his favorite fountain pen, he pulled out a new one without hesitation.
At least he could afford to do that now.
He was not at the point where he had to hold charcoal and issue guerrilla warfare orders.
First, I need to select the subordinates who were most loyal to me.
War showed people at their worst.
There were deserters and traitors, but there were also many comrades who had fought alongside him until the very end.
Abel.
His elegant fingers holding the fountain pen suddenly stopped.
The only non-combatant.
The person who had tried desperately to keep him alive until the very end.
What did he say at the end? Did he tell me to survive?
He did not know why this miracle had happened.
There was no way all of it had been a dream.
After thinking for a long time, his thoughts eventually settled on Abel.
If I didn’t cause this miracle, then it must have been Abel. Perhaps Abel returned with me as well.
If Abel really was the one who brought him back to lifeā¦
Bavaria always repaid its debts.
But what would be the best way?
How was he supposed to find someone who was supposedly a commoner? He remembered which school Abel had graduated from because it had been written in his records.
But finding him with only that information would be extremely difficult.
Come to think of it, Abel was always very clever about hiding the truth.
Victor had assumed Abel did not realize that he had noticed and had let him be, since Abel seemed rather proud of it.
After all, lying and hiding a few truths one did not wish to talk about were slightly different matters.
Yes, that should be enoughā¦
āWoof! Woof!ā
āArgh! Stop that! How can a descendant of the great Bavaria behave like some kind of beast?!ā
āGrrr, woof! Woof!!!ā
āYou think I don’t know you’re doing this on purpose? I said stop! Oh, God!ā
ā¦ā¦
As he listened to the noise coming from outside, his expression instantly became blank.
The corners of his mouth, which had softened for a moment while thinking about Abel, hardened again, and his posture became stiff.
Yes, Victor Bavaria also had a few secrets.
Secrets he did not want to tell anyone.
āWhen are you going to send that boy to a mental hospital?ā
That evening, at dinner, on the very day Victor had completely figured out his situation.
His aunt, Genevieve Bavaria, whose face was covered in unmistakable scratch marks, was furiously complaining.
āThe first one is so clever, so why is the second one like that?! You need to have him admitted as soon as possible, for his own sake. At this rate, Bavaria will become a laughingstock.ā
Although she was already quite old, Genevieve still wore her long hair loose and had remained unmarried.
The reason for specifically mentioning that she had never married was because that was the reason Genevieve was here, at the estate.
His aunt had lost her share of the inheritance after making what was practically a fraudulent investment, and she had been living here since around the time Victor’s younger sister, Susanna, died.
The house was spacious enough, she rarely had to encounter him, and Victor had also considered the fact that someone was needed to look after the twin boys Susanna had left behind, so he had readily agreed.
But things turned out differently from what I expected.
The nine-year-old twins had a terrible relationship with Genevieve.
If they had reached the point where she was talking about sending them to a mental hospital, that said enough.
What did I do back then?
When Victor simply stared at her without answering, Genevieve flinched and hurriedly mumbled something.
āNo, it’s not as if a single child could damage Bavaria’s honorā¦ But the second one’s condition is serious. You don’t know because you only came back here after two years.ā
āA mental hospitalā¦ā¦ā
