Chapter 41

The spread of Dimus’s name in Buerno was an inevitable outcome.

Yes, it had already been years, so it made sense that rumors would have spread in one way or another. It had been enough time for that. Dimus rubbed his tired forehead.

His casual steps led him past the hallway and into the Long Gallery. In any other mansion, this space would have been filled with family portraits or paintings, but Dimus filled the Long Gallery with weapons. All kinds of guns and swords were either mounted on the walls or placed within glass cases.

Some were too ornate to be called weapons and were more suitable as decorations. Others were so old and worn that it seemed questionable to even keep them, with some still having dark stains that looked like uncleaned blood.

Dimus walked through the Long Gallery, his eyes taking in the neatly displayed guns and swords. Suddenly, he stopped in front of a long, slender sword with a beautifully shining blade.

He had been awarded this ceremonial sword the day of his promotion. It was a day when he believed everything was going smoothly. A day when he thought nothing but radiant glory and honor lay ahead.

The Dimus of that time was a naive and foolish young man. As he reminisced, a cynical sneer spread across his face.

That polished ceremonial sword now evoked nothing but useless resentment.

“One can be slow to judge the situation in a fit of youthful passion. But Major, only your mother would tolerate such childishness.”

Right, he had heard that too.

“Oh, but didn’t they say your mother lacked even that much refinement? Born a vagrant, it’s truly a wonder who could be behind you, Major.”

Those vicious voices from his memory no longer provoked any feelings in Dimus. He had long passed the age of being angered by such petty mockery.

Yet, while it did not affect him anymore, it wasn’t something he wished to hear again. They had always been a nuisance, and now, years later, their attempts to reel him back in were laughable.

Perhaps it was time to increase security. While Dimus couldn’t prevent them from visiting Buerno, he certainly had no intention of turning his mansion into an inn.

‘Perhaps I should vacate altogether.’

Leave for a fortnight or a month, timed with their visit.

The sudden thought faded quickly. The idea of fleeing from the remnants of his past didn’t sit well with him. The humiliation of defeat was something he would endure only once.

Dimus’s once-halted steps resumed, now moving with clear purpose rather than mere wandering.

He arrived at the mansion’s basement. The air grew colder as he descended, enveloping his entire body.

Aside from the frigid atmosphere, the basement was just as beautifully decorated as the rest of the mansion. Dimus raised his gaze, slowly sweeping across the walls.

This was where he stored the many nude paintings he had collected over the years. As he casually scanned the captivating naked figures, his gaze suddenly fixed on one in particular.

“Liv Rodaise…”

It was the first painting he had bought from Brad. It was the first time he had ever seen the back of a woman named Liv Rodaise in a painting.

For someone who had always been content with mere works of art, it was the first time he found himself curious about a living model—the very reason.

To this day, Dimus found those initial feelings strange.

It was the same whenever he encountered Liv Rodaise. She made him do things that, under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have done. That had been the case most recently as well.

Had there ever been a time when he had returned so quickly from the hunting grounds?

He hadn’t expected anything particular when he brought her along. It was more like he had grabbed her on a whim, like a piece of luggage that happened to be there. She, too, probably realized soon enough that she had nothing to contribute at the hunting grounds.

Yet, despite her apparent uselessness, she somehow made herself useful.

The impulse, which usually only ended after witnessing the last breath, the ground stained red, and the stench of blood filling his senses, had been pacified—ridiculously easily—by just conversing with her.

That day, for the first time in his life, Dimus found lust overwhelming his desire to kill.

The mere thought of it made him hard again. Dimus let out a small scoff at the immediate reaction from his body. Even the tingling sensations from his scars seemed to be turning into sexual stimulation. Day by day, his senses were becoming more acute, more severe.

‘Would it subside if I slept with her once?’

It wasn’t as though he hadn’t considered it. But Dimus knew himself well. This raging desire wouldn’t simply fade with a single encounter.

Moreover, this lust wasn’t driven by a savage urge to force himself on a crying, resisting woman. If it had been that kind, he would have dealt with it long ago. No, this was a desire for something more—a mental fulfillment.

He had always pursued a perfect victory. Dimus had always won, as long as no undue power intervened. It was his longstanding habit to create perfect conditions for victory before entering any battle.

Dimus licked his lips as he stared at the nude painting. At some point, a searing thirst had begun gnawing away at his nerves, little by little.

But for now, it was bearable.

In any case, she would eventually kneel before him, yielding of her own volition. He was sure of it.

She would look up at him with eyes that betrayed her helplessness, all her previous lies of indifference exposed, begging to take him into her mouth.

Ah, imagining victory still felt so satisfying.

***

“Teacher! Did you hear that Cardinal Calliope is visiting Buerno?”

As always, Million brought up topics that had nothing to do with her lessons. Despite Liv opening her book without flinching, Million persisted.

“My parents might even host the Cardinal this time!”

This time, Liv couldn’t ignore her. She had vowed not to react, but now her eyes widened.

“At the Pendence estate?”

“Yes! There’s no place in Buerno as nice as our home!”

Million looked immensely satisfied with Liv’s reaction, lifting her chin proudly. Then she paused, seemingly recalling something. Rolling her eyes to avoid Liv’s gaze, she added in a slightly petulant voice.

“Of course, there’s also Marquis Dietrion, but he never cares who visits the city anyway. The Blaise family’s mansion is too far from Buerno, so it’s not ideal for the Cardinal’s comings and goings.”

“But doesn’t the Cardinal usually have quite an entourage?”

“Oh, we could just open up all the annexes for them!”

Yes, even if there wasn’t enough space, the Pendence family would probably insist on hosting the Cardinal and even build a new place if necessary.

Liv, brushing off unnecessary worries, nodded.

Certainly, for being in the heart of Buerno, the Pendence estate occupied an impressively large plot. It would be more convenient for the Cardinal than the Blaise family’s mansion on the outskirts.

“It would be a great honor to host the Cardinal.”

“Exactly!”

“But if the Cardinal comes in person, wouldn’t Marquis Dietrion have to step forward as well?”

Even though he was an arrogant man who looked down on everyone.

Unlike the nobles who were abundant to the point of being honorary titles, a cardinal was a rare, highly ranked cleric—chosen from among the clergy. They were individuals who might one day lead the church. No matter how distinguished a noble was, they couldn’t treat such a figure lightly. Cardinals didn’t belong to any nation; they were aligned with the church. And in most countries, the church’s religion was adopted as the state religion.

“But Marquis Dietrion has never once entertained guests. It didn’t matter how high the noble rank, even those from the capital had no success.”

“The Cardinal is different.”

Of course, if she remembered what he had said in the chapel, it seemed like he lacked any genuine piety…

Liv thought of the mansions owned by the Marquis that she had visited. Just two so far, but both were stunning and grand. She had heard he never opened the main Langess Mansion to guests, but any of his other estates would suffice.

“Actually, I have a reason for being so sure.”

“A reason?”

“You’ll be surprised when you hear it.”

Million leaned forward, whispering as if revealing a secret.

“Among the nobles escorting the Cardinal, there’s someone Teacher Camille knows!”

“…Teacher Marcel?”

“Yes! So obviously, they’d stay at our house! It’s always more comfortable to stay somewhere you know someone!”

This was something Liv hadn’t expected at all. She had figured Camille was well-connected, but not to this extent.

To be hosting a cardinal meant they were from a rather prestigious noble family.

What kind of person was Camille, really, to have such acquaintances? And why was he spending his time as an art tutor in this provincial town?

“Because of this, Teacher Camille has been meeting my parents almost every day recently. He spends more time with them than he does teaching me! He’s probably in Father’s office right now.”

“I see.”

Liv thought it was a fascinating coincidence, yet she felt a strange sense of unease. It was something she couldn’t precisely define—vague, but unsettling enough that she couldn’t just dismiss it.

However, no matter how much she pondered, there was nothing Liv could do. What did Camille’s odd behavior have to do with her, anyway?

Ignoring the thorn-like discomfort lodged in her throat, Liv turned her gaze back to the textbook.

A cardinal or a noble—all of them were people far removed from Liv’s life. It was far more productive to worry about Corida, who would soon be examined by a doctor.