They Say an Age Gap Like This Doesn’t Even Need Matching - Chapter 86

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Outskirts of Brin County.
Marquis Morak’s carriage came to a halt, raising dust in its wake.
“There it is.”
A soldier who had been waiting ahead bowed and spoke.
Marquis Morak slowly lifted his gaze.
A single black carriage.
It bore no distinctive ornaments, no flags.
Yet strangely, it did not appear shabby.
As Marquis Morak pondered the reason, he realized something.
He had seen such a black carriage before, back when he completed his studies at the Academy in the Cradion Empire.
The moment the black carriage entered the Academy grounds, everyone from the Rector to the professors rushed out and bowed their heads.
‘An Imperial Inspector.’
Among several possibilities, the most chilling puzzle piece fit perfectly into place.
Feeling a chill run down his spine, the Marquis descended from his carriage.
The instant his feet touched the ground, the surroundings were engulfed in suffocating silence.
His skin prickled.
‘Killing intent…?’
He had deliberately stopped at considerable distance from the black carriage.
Yet this entire area was being dominated as if it were someone else’s domain. Still, he could not simply flee.
Amid the tension that made his neck feel as though it might snap, Marquis Morak took a step toward the black carriage.
And in that moment.
A chill settled beneath his jaw.
‘What—!’
Though he had seen nothing, the Man in Black Mask had a blade pressed against his chin.
“Get lost.”
A murky voice flowed from his lips.
Marquis Morak felt his heart freeze.
Yet he had reasons he could not retreat.
Especially if his opponent truly was a high-ranking noble of Cradion.
“What manner of rudeness is this? I am a noble of Bardia. I have come merely to pay my respects to an esteemed guest from Cradion. Lower your blade.”
The corners of the masked man’s mouth twisted upward.
“I’d rather not.”
“Rather not? Threatening a noble’s life without cause is clearly unlawful—”
“How dare you invoke the standards of a fallen nation before your betters.”
Fallen nation.
Bardia had not fallen.
The situation was different from nations defeated in war and occupied.
Through negotiation, Bardia would merge with Cradion, and his noble status would be preserved.
But this was hardly the moment to explain such circumstances at length.
‘What should I say to make him grant me an audience?’
It was precisely when Count Morak was racking his brain intensely.
Creak.
The carriage door opened slowly, and a man dressed in black emerged, as expected.
“My master is resting. What is this commotion?”
“This wretch dares to request an audience with my master, sir.”
The man in black furrowed his brow as he regarded Count Morak.
Seeing an opportunity, Count Morak hastily opened his mouth.
“I am Marquis Silva Morak. I merely came to pay my respects upon hearing that an esteemed guest had arrived.”
That was when it happened.
“Count Morak?”
A soft, feminine voice drifted from within the carriage.
Someone then descended from the carriage.
The woman adorned in a radiant dress alone was unmistakably the master of this carriage.
Though a half-mask obscured her features, the visible portions revealed exquisite beauty.
Moreover…
‘Golden hair and emerald eyes?’
She possessed the very colors that symbolized the direct lineage of House of Cradian.
Count Morak’s expression faltered.
It was something he sensed instinctively.
That she was not someone to be treated lightly.
Count Morak spoke first.
“I offer my respects to this distinguished guest from Cradian.”
His tone was respectful.
Yet his eyes were not.
“Might you reveal your identity?”
“Why should I?”
The woman’s head tilted slightly.
“Do you truly believe you could bear the weight of my station?”
“…I am the lord who governs these lands. Naturally, I must ascertain the identity of those who visit….”
“What?”
Cutting off his words, the woman burst into laughter.
Despite her disrespectful demeanor, Count Morak could not afford to display his displeasure.
“Count Morak. Do you know why I came to see you upon hearing your name?”
When he hesitated at her ominous words.
Thud.
A single sheet of paper the woman casually tossed fell at Count Morak’s feet.
“…?”
“You may look.”
Though his pride stung, curiosity proved irresistible, and Count Morak bent down to retrieve the paper.
It did not take long for his initially bewildered expression to drain of all color.
It was a letter.
From Marquis Robert, a member of the Central Nobility of Cradion who had gone around claiming to be my connection.
My trembling eyes rapidly scanned through the sentences.
“…This is…”
My lips moved, but the words wouldn’t come out properly.
“Now that you’ve read it, you understand why I wanted to see your face.”
The letter clearly mentioned him as well.
Only in negative terms.
-He has nothing whatsoever to do with me.
-He is someone who dared to lie about having Imperial Nobility as his backing.
-When the truth is revealed, he will not survive.
-Therefore, you may dispose of him immediately.
Count Morak’s hand went limp.
The letter plummeted to the floor.
“Marquis Robert… said he doesn’t know me?”
His eyes were wavering.
“It wasn’t just a simple denial.”
The woman’s lips curved upward smoothly.
“He said to get rid of me because I’m unpleasant.”
“….”
Count Morak’s mouth fell open, then closed again.
“Why would he do that?”
The woman tilted her head curiously.
“Because you were useless? Or perhaps…”
Count Morak stared intently at the woman’s crimson lips.
“Was it all a lie from the beginning?”
His breathing became completely ragged.
The woman watched Count Morak with evident amusement.
“Everyone who gathered around you was selling Marquis Robert’s name.”
His eyebrows twitched.
“Since you were their backing, and Marquis Robert was your backing… they thought they could do whatever they wanted.”
Count Morak understood this as well.
How the neighboring nobles who had gathered around him spoke and acted without restraint.
“So then, what should we do now?”
The woman asks him.
As if offering him a chance.
Count Morak’s eyes trembled rapidly as he keenly grasped this.
After calculating his gains and losses, he quickly fell to his knees.
And pressing his forehead to the ground, he cried out.
“Please forgive me. I have done wrong.”
Those who surrendered to an authority that loomed as monstrously as a giant, who bartered away what they should have protected, found even their knees grew light.
“What I desired was far more than merely a bow.”
The woman spoke with mockery in her voice.
At this, his shoulders flinched.
“Then… what do you wish of me?”
“Well…”
The woman, who had trailed off as if lost in thought for a moment, suddenly asked with curiosity.
“How many nobles follow you?”
“Thirteen, madam.”
He answered immediately and began listing the nobles’ names in order.
After reciting all thirteen names, he bowed his head once more.
“Good. Including you, that makes fourteen in total.”
“Yes, madam.”
“I wish for only one of them to remain.”
“…I beg your pardon?”
Count Morak lifted his head without thinking, meeting the woman’s gaze.
She looked down at him with an expression of intrigue.
“You asked me to handle it, didn’t you? But I suppose I could accidentally leave one alive.”
Words spoken in jest.
Yet the woman truly intended to do exactly that, and possessed the power to accomplish it.
Realizing this, a chill ran down Count Morak’s spine.
What if he had not sought her out first?
If one of the other thirteen had come to her instead and heard these words, what would have become of him?
“Now go. I’m beginning to grow bored.”
A woman who despised tedium.
A woman who, for amusement alone, incited fourteen nobles to kill and be killed.
Count Morak’s breathing grew ragged.
“Ah, you may take that letter with you. You might wonder if it’s a forgery, after all.”
“…Thank you.”
Count Morak accepted without hesitation, tucking the letter into his breast.
The Duke’s seal and handwriting impressed upon it were unmistakably genuine, leaving no room for doubt.
Yet allowing this letter to fall into another’s hands would be far too dangerous. He had to dispose of it with his own hands.
Having narrowly escaped with his life, Count Morak offered a respectful bow toward the woman, who was already boarding her carriage, before turning toward his own.
The men in black watched his retreating figure.
As if they already knew the ending, their lips curved upward in twisted smiles.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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