"Duke Kashchey, I beg you, spare me."
"Why should I? I actually find your tabloid piece rather amusing… though it would have been far better had the subject not been my daughter."
"…Duke Kashchey, there will never be a next time. I swear it."
"Oh~ is that so? Then I forgive you."
"Thank you for your mercy. I promise there won't be another—"
"Mhm~ and indeed, you won't have another chance."
"…What do you mean, my lord?"
"As a foster father, I can overlook your malicious gossip about my daughter. After all, letting her taste a little hardship is not without its lessons. But as a Duke… I cannot simply allow you to spread slander about nobility at will~"
"..."
"Do you know? A viscount's daughter once had her engagement annulled because of a few unclear photographs—backgrounds blurred deliberately by a sly photographer. Unable to endure the humiliation and gossip, she chose the one act I despise most: she hanged herself."
"..."
"How laughable, isn't it? She was but the daughter of a minor viscount, yet I believe that if she had truly wished, she could have taught that wretched journalist a proper lesson."
"..."
"You see, I don't care much for arranged marriages among the nobility. Each time I'm invited to witness such a union, I find myself rather impatient."
"..."
"What I truly prefer is the taste of happiness~ mm, as you short-lived breeds would say, I suppose I'm something of a sweet tooth?"
"..."
"But when I visited that viscount's home, what I tasted instead was bitterness… and while a touch of bitterness can sometimes have its own charm, this was not that sort. This was bitterness steeped in despair."
"..."
"That displeased me greatly, dear journalist. That a mere viscount dared offend the great Kashchey."
"..."
"And when I am displeased, someone must pay the price."
"..."
"Ah—almost forgot. You're nearly consumed, unable to even form words now. Well then, you'll no longer be a petty gossipmonger, scraping by on fabricated stories for fleeting attention. Instead, you shall become a crusader of justice, a journalist who bravely exposes the dark side of Ursus!"
"..."
"Congratulations! You've been hired by the Ursus Gazette, whose largest shareholder is none other than… Kashchey himself!"
"I am honored to be hired by Duke Kashchey."
---
"Mhm! The accuracy of these papers is improving nicely."
Reclining comfortably on a sofa, Duke Kashchey idly flipped through a newspaper.
"Once again, the great Duke Kashchey has saved Ursus."
"Catastrophes are not invincible—Ursus glory endures."
Kashchey skimmed the lines, then tossed the paper aside.
After all, many of those articles had been written by his own hand…
No, no—by those righteous journalists and earnest editors, of course. Those who wished for the people to know the truth.
But Chernobog remains troublesome.
Though Kashchey had banished the Catastrophe and forcibly restrained most of the city from inflicting physical harm…
The rules written by his [Absurd Pen] were not without loopholes.
If one acted without intent to harm, then harmful deeds could still occur.
There was no helping it—by then, the ink had been too thin for Koshelna to refine the rules.
It would be safer to have the Emperor himself issue the decree… I've already overstepped far too much.
To Kashchey's eyes, Chernobog was but a city on borrowed time.
Mad Infected, traitorous soldiers and officers…
Such broken remnants were hardly worth his personal effort.
He had far more important matters to attend to—
Namely, settling accounts with the factions responsible for sparking Chernobog's revolt.
Whether Emperor, or the Duke himself, each was eager to carve a share from that ripe cake.
They couldn't all be worrying about the nation and its people, while he alone dwelled on this matter… could they?
---
"Natalya, the Duke has sent me to fetch you."
Within Chernobog, a Snakescale appeared before Natalya.
The local Scales had already been purged by Boris.
This one had slipped in from outside—sneaking through the melted, ruined gates.
The young lady's power is growing stronger by the day…
So thought the Scale as his eyes fell upon the pools of cooled iron on the ground.
---
"…How is Duke Kashchey's condition?"
Natalya asked anxiously.
She too had seen that final scene—when the pure white figure seemed to suffer injury.
"…The Duke requires some time to rest, but he is in no real danger."
As expected, the one who worries most for the Duke… is the second young lady.
"Eldest" and "second young lady" were, of course, just the Scales' private way of referring to them. After all, both girls had once been personally raised, if only for a time, under Kashchey's care.
"That's a relief… Can I bring them back with me?"
Natalya asked, hesitating.
From the shadows, the Scale shook his head.
He could not guarantee the safety of so many.
Kashchey had sent only him—no more. Most of the Duke's Scales were already committed to dismantling the factions that had profited from Chernobog's uprising.
In truth, Kashchey had never demanded Natalya's immediate return.
On the contrary—he was curious to see just how far she could go on her own.
Of course, he could have activated the Black Snake within her at any moment, laying bare her every thought and reasoning.
But he refused.
What he desired was not a puppet, but a true proxy he could trust.
---
"…I'm sorry."
In the end, Natalya refused the Scale's offer.
She could not abandon her classmates—her subordinates.
"…I see. That is unfortunate, Lady Natalya. But I will remain hidden in the shadows, watching over your safety."
With those words, the Scale vanished from her sight.
Unnoticed nearby, Sonya and her companions listened from around a corner…
No—perhaps the two had been noticed after all.
Natalya was nothing like her naïve foster sister, who had returned much of Kashchey's teachings back to him.
Natalya had always remembered every lesson the Duke had taught her.
---
"Report, leader—we've obtained Chernobog's core key."
"..."
What? How… how could taking a city be that simple?!
"Thanks to Master Skullshatterer and Master Frostnova, we learned the core password from a man named Sergei… Leader, what should we do?"
"…The time isn't right."
We can't really go to war with Ursus. If we push that old fossil Kashchey too far, he might wipe us out in one stroke.
"…Understood, Leader! Since someone has been using Reunion's name, we can't allow that falsehood to stand!"
"…Good. I'm glad you understand."
If only I had a city of my own… Then I could shelter more Infected, give them a warm home.
But… has Kashchey truly been injured?