The Mad Dog of the Duke's Estate-Chapter 338. Youre Still You (1)

Halo could only keep downing his drink after hearing the shocking words that spilled from Caron's mouth.

Seeing him like that, Caron burst out laughing as if he found the whole thing hilarious.

"Wow, your face still looks like it's about to explode when you're angry," he teased. "Be careful, at your age, if your veins pop, you'll keel over."

"How could I not be furious?" Halo barked. "Finding out my old friend got reincarnated as my grandson is already insane, but what? Do you realize how insane that sounds? I refuse to accept it!"

"I wasn't telling you this to convince you," Caron said, swirling the ice in his glass. "It was just something buried in the Demon King of Sloth's memories."

"I haven't completely absorbed those memories yet, so it could be wrong. Don't stress over it too much," he added with a shrug.

To summarize what Caron had told him...

"I am the reincarnation of Rael Leston."

The story was complicated, but that was the gist of it. Halo's furious reaction was only natural.

"You don't have a shred of proof!" Halo snapped.

His friend—his grandson—was apparently the Founder. That wasn't just a tangled family tree; it was utter chaos. Even for Halo, who prided himself on his open mind, this was too much.

But Caron simply waved his hand with a smirk and said, "Relax. I'm not asking you to treat me like the Founder."

"You never run out of jokes, do you? Do you want to get locked up in Azureocean Castle for mocking the family like this?" Halo shouted.

"Ahem. If I'm the one who founded the house, don't I have the right to criticize it?" Caron said, puffing out his chest. "The first thing I'd do is throw out those outdated traditions. Why should the head of the house decide everything alone? The whole family should have a say—hey, hey, don't you dare swing that bottle at my head. One good hit and my skull's gone."

Caron couldn't stop laughing at Halo's violent reaction.

He didn't even have the slightest desire to be treated like the founder. He had no memories of Rael Leston anyway. Claiming "I'm your ancestor" without proof was meaningless.

That's absurd, Caron thought. For him, recalling a past life meant remembering Cain Latorre. Rael's memories didn't interest him. The only thing he'd wanted were Rael's insights into the Demon Realm—but even those had been solved when he absorbed Sloth. There was no reason to cling to them.

Well, except for one.

"Come on, just call me Founder," Caron said, grinning.

"Shut up," Halo growled.

"Tsk tsk," Caron responded.

At the very least, Caron now had the perfect excuse to tease Halo. Whenever Halo tried to pull rank as his grandfather, Caron could swing the shield of "founder." That alone was worth plenty.

Halo groaned and waved him off, "Okay, fine. Let's say, just for argument's sake, you really are the founder's reincarnation. Do you remember anything from back then?"

"Of course not," Caron said flatly.

"...How useless," Halo muttered. "Why did you bring it up, then? Do you enjoy giving me a headache?"

"That's right. Don't take it so seriously," Caron said.

"If Havoc and Void meddled with your reincarnation, that means they toyed with the founder's soul," Halo pressed. "Don't you even know why?"

Caron frowned and replied, "Sloth seemed curious about that too."

"So we'll have to uncover it ourselves," Halo said grimly.

"Maybe I'll find out once I absorb Havoc's memories. It's giving me migraines, but... I'll manage," Caron said.

Just digesting Sloth's memories had already pushed Caron's mind to its limits. It wasn't the kind of knowledge one could swallow in a single day.

The fact that he could pull out fragments at all was thanks to Guillotine.

"Owner, I'm going to puke. Pour me a drink," Guillotine said.

"You've earned it," Caron said, and poured.

Glug.

...The drinking sword Guillotine had been his savior. Normally Caron would have begrudged wasting expensive liquor on his blade, but this time he happily drenched the blade in whiskey.

Murmuring in bliss, Guillotine sighed, "This taste... Ahh, unmistakable. Limited Rekaché whiskey from the royal distillery of the southern Zion Kingdom!"

"You really like it that much?" Caron asked.

"Of course," Guillotine answered.

"Here, have another," Caron said, pouring more drink.

"I'll admit, I already suspected you were Rael's reincarnation. Call it destiny, call it fate—there was a pull," Guillotine continued.

"Sure you did," Caron muttered.

"Ahhh, it's perfect," Guillotine added.

Watching Caron pour drink after drink over his blade, Halo clenched his fist under the table.

That lunatic can't be the founder, he thought desperately.

It couldn't be true. If their revered ancestor was actually this madman who fed whiskey to his sword, then the very identity of the ducal house would collapse.

So Halo threw back his glass in one gulp, exhaled hard, and decided—he would pretend he'd heard nothing tonight.

"By the way, descendant," Caron said smugly.

"Shut. Up," Halo said sternly.

"Tsk, tsk. A scion of a noble house should show respect to his elders. Let's see, in years that's over three hundred, in generations... What was it again? Anyway, I'm a very, very distant elder!" Caron said.

"I never had a founder like you," Halo spat.

"And I'd prefer if you treated me like a friend, not a grandson. That works out for both of us, doesn't it? You don't have to call me ancestor, and I don't have to call you grandfather. Win-win," Caron said.

That had been Caron's aim from the start. He had no interest in using his previous life as leverage. What mattered to him was keeping their bond.

In his previous life, friendship with Halo had been difficult. In this one, there was nothing to stop it. As long as they played it smart around the family, they would be fine.

Perhaps that compromise was enough for Halo, because at last his face softened a little. He said, "You should've said that from the beginning."

"By the way," Caron added, "I once met an illusion of Rael at his tomb. Felt oddly familiar. He treated me warmly, too."

"Not Rael," Halo corrected stiffly. "The Founder. You can't speak his name so casually—"

"Why not? If it was my previous life, then I can call myself whatever I want. Got a problem with that?" Caron interrupted.

Halo pressed his lips together, trapped in silence.

Caron savored the sight of him squirming, then smirked and nodded. He said, "Drink up."

"You really are..." Halo muttered, shaking his head.

"Even when we're alone, just call me Caron. That's what feels right," Caron said.

Halo chuckled and replied, "I'm the one who gave you that name. As a friend, I'm glad you actually like it."

"Damn you," Caron said, grinning.

Neither man let the other win outright.

And so, for the first time in fifty years, the two friends traded jokes and laughter, catching up on all they had lost.

For a fleeting moment, peace had settled over the once-chaotic Realm of Sloth.

***

The fortress of the Demon King of Liberation began to stabilize at a remarkable pace.

Of course, that stabilization was only in the sense recognized by the continent.

Those who had once lived as slaves quickly began to accept their new reality under the skillful direction of Cobler. Some even took the initiative to communicate with the expedition's members, such as Dro.

"There's quite a vast grain belt surrounding the fortress. And it just so happens this year's harvest is plentiful..." one of the freed demons explained.

"We always thought all demons survived by drinking human blood," a soldier said with suspicion.

"Some demons do live as vampires," the demon admitted with a shake of his head, "but that's only a rare few. Most of us farm or hunt for food, just like ordinary humans."

"Oh, I see. Then are there game animals we can hunt?" a soldier asked.

"What are you saying? We eat the stray demonic monsters that escape control. But their dark mana runs deep. They're hardly suitable prey for expedition soldiers," one of the demons answered.

"...I understand," the soldier replied.

"The Demon King of Liberation freed us from our fate as slaves. We will do everything in our power to aid him. Glory to the merciful Demon King of Liberation!" the demon shouted.

"Ah... yes," the soldier answered awkwardly.

In any military campaign, the help of locals made everything easier. The Demon Realm was no exception.

The demons had greater strength and endurance than almost any other race on the continent, and their efforts proved invaluable. They quickly fortified the fortress of the Demon King of Liberation into a stronghold, and even aided in supplementing the army's slightly lacking food stores.

It was no exaggeration to say their help had raised the expedition's chance of success.

While the liberated lands were turned upside down under the fortress' influence, the high command gathered in the newly established war room inside the stronghold.

"...Caron. Get down from there," Halo said sharply.

"Huh? But this is my seat," Caron replied casually.

"Tsk."

The commanders had convened to discuss the next operation. Halo ground his teeth at the sight of Caron lounging on the freshly made "Throne of Liberation," and Caron only shrugged before rising.

The other leaders, watching the growing familiarity between grandfather and grandson, each fell into their own thoughts.

Ever since Caron Leston reached 9-Star, it seems even the Duke himself has acknowledged him.

As expected of a ducal house that values merit above all.

The Throne of Liberation, for the record, was something the freed demons had built of their own accord. After all, a Demon King could't go without a throne.

Caron had refused at first, but once given it, he rather liked it—and insisted on sitting there at every meeting. Halo had to scold him away each time.

Once that matter was resolved, Halo sighed deeply and took his seat. His gaze swept the room before he spoke. "From today, we begin preparations in earnest for the next battle. Caron, have the nobles under your command been properly dealt with?"

Since this was an official meeting, Caron couldn't behave as wildly as usual. He answered politely enough, "The two dukes took their people back themselves."

"And what did they say about their situation?" Halo asked.

"Since the Demon Queen of Lust herself is moving, they won't last long. Even if she's only half of one, a Demon Queen is still a Demon Queen," Caron replied.

The authority of the Demon Queen of Lust, Laia, had been split. Caron had absorbed half, while she held the other.

But the moment Caron absorbed Sloth, Laia had appeared directly on the battlefield. She, too, had sensed the broken balance.

The fighting on the northeastern front had only grown fiercer since. Caron, without hesitation, had thrown the nobles into that maelstrom, buying the expedition the precious time it needed to reorganize.

Yet that, too, had reached its limit. The expedition had to make its next move.

"Any sign of movement from the Realm of Havoc?" Halo asked.

Orion, the scouting commander, answered with a nod, "It's quiet."

"That will be troublesome. If both sides press us at once..." Halo trailed off.

The worst outcome was a two-front war. If Havoc pushed from the west while Lust struck from the east, the casualties would skyrocket.

Unlike Sloth, who had fought constantly and bled away strength, Havoc still commanded his full, undiminished power.

This was perhaps the greatest crisis the expedition would face.

The Void comes after, Caron thought.

Their ultimate goal remained the domain beyond the veil: The Void. But before that, they had to cut down Havoc and Lust.

"I believe striking down the Demon Queen of Lust first is the best course," Vice Commander Hollander suggested cautiously.

"If we remove the weaker of the two, we minimize the risk of a two-front battle. Like Sloth, Lust has been waging near-constant war, so she should be easier to defeat than Havoc," he explained.

The other commanders nodded in agreement.

"That makes sense," one of the commanders said.

"Better to focus all our strength and end it swiftly," another added.

With Caron's rise, the expedition now fielded not one, but two 9-Star knights—masters often called martial gods.

And Caron had already slain one Demon King. Their morale was soaring.

Halo turned toward him and asked, "What do you think?"

Caron shrugged, then replied, "I think you're all being too optimistic. Sloth died because he arrogantly rushed me alone, and honestly, I only got lucky. You don't really expect the same trick to work twice, do you?"

It had been the power of Void—a vast, unpredictable factor—that had doomed Sloth. The remaining Demon Kings would surely guard against that.

And Lust was nothing like Sloth.

Sloth's power had been one of submission, bending the will of others. Laia, the Queen of Succubi, did more than that. She enslaved them. She wielded powers that inflamed lust, fractured armies, and turned enemies into thralls.

"If Lust decides to run and stall for time, we'll bleed people left and right. Even with holy power helping us... Do you really think it will be that simple?" Caron asked.

Hollander swallowed nervously. In a low voice, he asked, "Then, Sir Caron, what plan do you suggest?"

Caron gave a languid smile and answered, "That's for our fine commanders to decide, isn't it? I don't really know."

The abrupt shift into irresponsibility drew groans from around the room.

Hollander sighed, as though he had expected nothing else. He looked toward Halo, then said, "Then I request approval for Operation Plan Number Five, which we prepared in advance."

They had been planning this war for years. Naturally, they had strategies ready for the current situation.

Halo was about to nod his assent when—

Kwaaang!

The doors burst open, and Leo rushed in, his face pale with urgency. He shouted, "Forgive me! An urgent message has arrived!"

Halo rested one hand on the table and gestured for him to continue, then said, "Speak."

"...The Demon King of Havoc and the Demon Queen of Lust have sent envoys! They say they wish to speak with the Demon King of Liberation!" Leo said.

The Demon Kings had both begun to move in earnest.