The Founding Monarch Became the Mastermind

Chapter 76

Common sense.

It’s a term that defines the values and knowledge that members of a society acquire through education and that are ultimately shared by all.

Moreover, common sense often overlaps with a society’s traditional unwritten rules.

Even if these rules aren’t codified or legislated, they still possess immense authority.

That’s why, regardless of status, members of society strive to uphold common sense, especially those values that intersect with societal taboos.

Failing to uphold these values means facing social death, and sometimes, literal death.

– You must not kill a high-ranking noble without just cause.

In this world, this is both common sense and a deeply ingrained social taboo. Violating it leads to death.

Even if the perpetrator is of similar or higher status than the victim, they can hardly avoid societal collapse.

Even if the death occurs in the midst of a fierce battle, where it’s hard to tell friend from foe, or between sworn enemies, the perpetrator could still be condemned.

But to kill a noble you just met for the first time in broad daylight, and without much reason (for now)?

This was a colossal event capable of shattering common sense and the foundation of society itself.

The shock and fear experienced by the witnesses—other nobles like the victim—was immeasurable.

Thus, Madam Varetti and everyone else in the office fell into a collective panic, unable to move.

All they could do was watch as the murderer, who had just broken the unwritten rules of their world, casually wiped his bloody pommel and pulled the dagger from the knight’s forehead.

“Hey, you.”

“Ugh…!”

Who am I? Where am I?

Is this even real?

Jens, who had been lost in denial of reality, flinched so hard his shoulders shook when Si-on pointed at him.

“I haven’t seen you before. You must be from the Information Guild, right?”

“Y-yes, that’s correct.”

The 1st-Class Information Collector (who had once dreamed of becoming the youngest Deputy Guild Master but was now just a field agent) was nowhere to be seen.

Only a trembling man, scared enough to wet himself, remained.

“Did you bring the Rundel family into this?”

Let’s correct that—he was a man whose mind worked incredibly fast. Jens instantly realized that speaking carelessly here would break another layer of common sense.

“Yes, that’s right!”

“Why?”

“I was demoted after working as an information collector at the main office! I thought aligning myself with the crown prince’s faction would help me get back to headquarters faster, so I reached out to them!”

“An information collector? What rank were you?”

“I was 1st-Class.”

“Really? You’re young, so you must be pretty capable. Anyway, do you know anything about me?”

“Pardon?”

“Do you know or not?”

Instinctively, Jens hesitated, but Si-on furrowed his brow slightly, causing Jens to stiffen like a statue as he responded.

“I know some things.”

“What do you know?”

In a quick scan of the office, Jens noticed that despite being in the same room, it seemed like everyone was treating Si-on as if he didn’t exist.

This meant that it was safe to talk about him.

“I know you have a special alias, and that a scout dedicated to you reports directly to the top of the Guild in code.”

“I see.”

He’s clueless.

Si-on concluded, then spoke to Jens.

“You’re going to head straight to the Information Guild headquarters. When you get there, tell the Guild Master and those old men—what is it, the Council of Seven or Eight?—that from now on, all information about me will only be delivered through Jenna Olrot. Also—”

“Yes?”

Jens was desperately trying to memorize every word Si-on said.

“Your superiors probably already know this, but there are likely a few people who have gained the ability to see what you call the ‘Divine Message.’ However, no one else understands it as well as I do right now, so—”

Si-on’s tone, which had been calm and steady, suddenly changed.

It was filled with murderous intent, almost a low, menacing growl, as Si-on weakly unleashed one of his “skills.”

“If something like today happens again, there will be no mercy. Understood?”

“Hrk! Y-yes…”

Even though Si-on had only used about 1 or 2 out of 10 levels of intensity in his skill, Jens felt his breath choke up, and his legs wobbled uncontrollably.

“Then, go.”

“Yes, y-yes.”

Jens, barely able to walk, staggered toward the door.

At one point, his knees buckled, but he managed to steady himself and exit without collapsing.

“He’s got some survival instinct.”

Si-on chuckled and turned to face the others.

Two dead bodies lay sprawled on the floor, while the pungent smell of blood and filth—combined with the stench of those who had pissed themselves in fear—filled the office, creating a nearly unbearable atmosphere.

Clack.

Si-on opened a window and savored the cool breeze before addressing the people still paralyzed by terror.

“All of the knights that pig brought are dead. Half of the people sent by that woman’s maternal family are also dead. The rest will be dealt with soon.”

“…!!!”

It was only now that the room’s occupants fully realized that this situation was, indeed, reality.

Their shock was palpable.

“You must be wondering how such a thing is possible. How someone could do something like that so casually.”

Si-on sat on the edge of the desk and continued.

“A proper army is just an excess group that eats up money without producing anything. You all understand that, right? That’s probably why the August Estate hasn’t trained a proper military. And the people you’ve been relying on are the same.”

“…”

“Why bother spending money on an army when you can just hire mercenaries or call on the kingdom’s military? Even if you did spend money, you’d only be able to arm a few dozen men, so what’s the point?”

“…”

“That’s why you hold those ridiculous jousting tournaments or swordsmanship contests to recruit knights who’ve never killed anyone in real battle. Or you bring in third-rate mercenaries to act as soldiers.

And those men who died today were exactly those types—fake killers. But me? I’m a real killer.”

Si-on didn’t use his skills this time.

But the natural aura of a “real” killer—a man who had spent half of his 100 years killing humans and monsters alike—filled the room.

The mere presence of someone who had shattered their common sense left the room’s occupants unable to withstand it.

The growing dampness between their legs, along with the evidence of their bowel movements trickling down their pants, was clear proof of their fear.

Si-on continued speaking amidst the overpowering stench.

“Originally, I was going to let this go quietly because none of you are worth the trouble. Whether you believe me or not doesn’t matter, but to me, you’re just insects. Actually, no, that’s too kind.”

Si-on paused, correcting himself.

“Let’s say you’re like trees, grass, or stones. After living for so long, I’ve realized that anyone who doesn’t exchange words or emotions with me becomes meaningless.”

What is he talking about?

We, who come from noble families and have led commoners for generations, are mere insects, trees, stones?

But none of them dared to ask.

Even amidst the emptiness of the “real killer,” his expression, tinged with a sense of regret, and his eyes showed an age that was far beyond that of a mere 20-year-old.

“When you walk along the road, it’s only children who bother kicking stones or pulling up grass just because it annoys them. Normally, I don’t pay attention to such things either.

But what if a stone trips me? Or what if the grass keeps blocking my view? Then, I’ll have to deal with it. Don’t you think?”

Si-on’s right hand moved faintly.

A dagger flew from his hand and buried itself in someone’s chest.

“Gah! Ugh…”

Madam Varetti, the second wife of Baron August, looked down at her chest in disbelief, her eyes wide as she slowly collapsed to the ground.

“That woman crossed the line, and she’s paying the price. And if you cross the line, the same thing will happen to you. That woman’s family, her maternal family—what was it called, the Bettisect family? Whoever is from that family, raise your hand.”

Three people, trembling violently, slowly raised their hands.

“Her family might get a pass, since blood is thicker than water. Even if their daughter spews nonsense, they’d still want to help her. So they’ll be fine. But not you.

As for her maternal family, the ones who crawled all the way here from the central region, it’s obvious why they’re here. They wanted a piece of the pie. With their connections to the royal capital, they thought they could get away with it.”

“T-that’s…”

“Lie to me, and you’ll die.”

The nobleman from the Bettisect family, who had bravely stepped forward, immediately shut his mouth.

“That’s why your Bettisect family will pay the price. Take that woman’s miserable body and inform your family head about what happened here. Then, wait for me to come. Oh, and I won’t be the one visiting.”

At that moment, as if on cue, someone walked into the office.

Without so much as a change in expression, the man surveyed the scene—the two corpses, one with a smashed head and the other bleeding profusely from the forehead—and calmly spoke.

“I’ve finished everything you ordered. Should I handle this situation the same way as last time?”

“Perfect timing. First, introduce yourself to these folks.”

“…Are you serious?”

Given that this situation involved the king, Joan felt it necessary to confirm Si-on’s instructions before proceeding.

“Yes. Remember the favor you asked of me? I think we can settle that now, so go ahead and introduce yourself.”

Joan, the skilled secretary, immediately realized the significance.

The immortal duke had finally decided to get directly involved in the matter of the king’s succession.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Joan Tever, the Second Secretary serving His Majesty the King.”

The onlookers’ eyes widened to the point of tearing.

“Joan.”

“Yes.”

“Do you know the Bettisect family?”

“Yes. The current lord, Baron Spiola Bettisect, has a third son who works as a Second-Class Record Keeper in the Ministry of Military Affairs, and his youngest daughter is married to a cousin of the Minister of Military Affairs.”

The noblemen from the Bettisect family had never seen Joan before.

But after hearing him rattle off such precise information, they couldn’t doubt that he truly was the king’s secretary.

“I’d like the Bettisect family to disappear within the next three months, as though they never existed. At the very least, I want the current lord and his direct line removed from power, and I don’t want to hear anything about them again.”

“Understood.”

That sealed the fate of the Bettisect family, who had tried to profit by meddling in the Si-on Duchy’s affairs.

“Also, send that pig’s corpse to Rundel. Do it yourself.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

It wasn’t enough that they were asked to destroy an entire estate; they were now hearing a conversation in which the name of Earl Rundel—uncle to the crown prince and a powerful figure in the royal capital—was mentioned casually. The people in the office felt like they were losing their minds.

It felt like a dream—a nightmare they never wanted to relive.

But the buzzing flies that had flown in through the window and hovered around the corpses were proof that this was, without a doubt, their grim reality.