Reincarnation of a Hunter Chapter 43.2 - The Ducal Succession War

If I were curious, I might as well ask. And maybe provoke him a little while I was at it.

 

“Nice to meet you, Vincent. I thought I’d only see you in the succession war. I’ve heard you’re quite talented despite your small stature.”

 

I threw a jab at a boy 30 cm shorter than me. Sorry, but for now, he’s the enemy.

 

“Such disrespect… Aren’t you my second brother’s son-in-law? That would make you my nephew-in-law—” 

 

I cut him off, “If I’m your brother’s son-in-law, does that make me family? And you don’t hold any official position, do you? Why should I use honorifics with you?”

 

“Ack!”

 

Seeing his face turn red and blue from such mild provocation, it’s clear he really is just a child.

Just then, a robed figure standing behind him stopped Vincent.

“Young master, Count Marseille is correct. Please mind your manners.”

The way he spoke, almost like a tutor, carried the aura of a highly skilled mage.

‘So that guy’s the dark mage’s assistant.’ 

 

Appraisal.

Amar Mustafa Hussein (57 years old)
➺ The fifth son of Hader Hussein, the clan chief. 

➺ Head researcher at the Basra Magic Tower. 

➺ Serves no deity.

 

Damn. Completely wrong. This dark mage is of noble birth and hails from the prestigious Basra Magic Tower. Naturally, he wouldn’t use something as crude as curses. Plus, he doesn’t even follow a religion.

What exactly does Viscount Kioja know?

The hasty assumptions and biases of this pitiful craftsman are enough to make me sigh. First, I need to assess the two people in front of me. It never hurts to know who you’re dealing with.

“Sir mage, are you perhaps Young Master Vincent’s teacher?”

He took a step back, bowed his head slightly, and replied.

“That is correct. I am the dark mage Amar. But how did you know I was a mage?”

“You’re wearing robes.”

“…I see.”

 

That was me dodging the question. Not everyone who wears robes is a mage.

“What do you teach the young master?”

“Mathematics, astronomy, and geography.”

“Ugh, just hearing that makes my head hurt.”

The dark mage Amar smiled faintly and responded, “I’ve long heard of Count Marseille’s reputation. I’m honored that you would praise my meager skills.”

I wasn’t praising you.

 

“Ah, did my complaint about a headache sound like praise to you?”

Just then, Viscount Kioja appeared, took my hand, and led me away.

“Count Marseille, you shouldn’t stay in a place like this. There are people I’d like to introduce you to. Let’s go.”

I suppose my closeness to Vincent made him uneasy. But I still hadn’t uncovered anything about Vincent and Amar. I wanted to confirm whether these two were the ones who killed the first heir.

Unable to leave it at that, I whispered to Viscount Kioja, “I’ll do a little reconnaissance. Don’t worry and go ahead.”

“Reconnaissance? Understood.”

 

After sending Viscount Kioja off alone, I approached Vincent again.

“Prince Vincent, care to share a cup of tea?”

“…Very well.”

 

The other nobles cleared the way, allowing us to take a vacant table.

Soon, servants brought refreshments, and I offered tea to Vincent and Amar.

Then—

“Do you not believe in any particular god?”

 

Vincent flinched at my abrupt question.

“O-Of course I do. I am a follower of the Sun God faith.”

“No need to hide it from me. I’m not religious either.”

“…”

 

Instead of Vincent, Amar answered, “The existence of gods is undeniable. But believing in them is another matter. If one chooses not to believe, that’s their right.”

 

“Fair point. But it’s a different story if that person is to become the Duke of Veneto.”

“…Prince Vincent is a devout follower of the Sun God faith. I can say no more.”

 

Trying to slip away, are you? Think I’ll let you off that easy?

 

“I don’t know why you taught Prince Vincent to abandon his faith, but forcing your own religious views on your disciple is absurd.”

 

Amar’s face twisted into a frown. He seemed about to snap back, his lips twitching. After holding back his anger for a long while, the words he finally spat out were laughable.

 

“I heard you were a religious liberal.”

 

“Correct.”

 

“Then why did you let the dark mages burn at the stake?”

 

He seemed to be referring to the incident where dark mages were burned at the stake under the orders of the Cardinal of Aachen.

 

A bitter laugh escaped me. This fool had chosen the wrong opponent.

 

“You insolent brat! Those dark mages wreaked havoc in Westphalia! They deserved worse than extermination—three generations wouldn’t be enough!”

 

I jabbed a finger at Amar and roared.

 

When it comes to provocation, nothing beats outright rudeness.

 

“If you cause trouble in this Veneto, I’ll burn you at the stake too.”

 

“What? How dare you! Aren’t you afraid of a dark mage’s curse?”

 

“Hmph. A pathetic curse like yours won’t work on me. Go ahead and try.”

 

“Pathetic, you say? Are you sure you won’t regret this?”

 

“Absolutely. But if your curse fails, it means you’re a worthless mage. In that case, resign as Vincent’s teacher and leave Veneto immediately.”

 

Amar bared his teeth, grinding them loudly. He had taken the bait perfectly.

 

‘Good. Go ahead and curse me!’

 

In my skill window, the ability [Status Ailment Immunity] was prominently displayed.

 

Of course, curses did not affect me. This was the perfect moment to drive out the dark mage Amar. If I succeeded, Vincent would have to face the succession battle without his aide.

 

That would be the ideal time to plant a sense of crisis in the Duke of Veneto from the very beginning.

 

The greater the crisis, the bigger the concessions I could extract. When the opportunity came, I’d kick him out for good.

 

But then, Vincent grabbed Amar’s arm and stopped him.

“Master, that’s enough. You have important matters starting tomorrow.”

“But this person dares to question my capabilities—”

“I said, stop.”

“…Understood, young master. My apologies.”

 

Huh. That kid’s got some nerve.

Was his childish act earlier just a performance?

 

Vincent sighed and then changed his expression.

“Count Marseille, you truly are someone to be cautious of, just as the spies reported.”

 

He’s trying to unsettle me by implying they’ve planted spies.

That’s obviously a lie. There’s no reason to place spies in a remote, insignificant territory like mine.

 

I smiled again and asked, “Spies? I’m flattered.”

“Aren’t you a person of interest?”

“So that act earlier was real. You deserve an Oscar for Best Actor.”

“An Oscar? Well, pretending to be a naive boy didn’t work, it seems.”

“You’re more composed than your master. Or rather, is he even really your master?”

 

Amar’s face turned red again. That guy really falls for taunts easily.

But Vincent didn’t even glance at Amar as he replied, “As I mentioned before, I study mathematics, astronomy, and geography.”

“Who killed your eldest brother? I heard he broke his neck in a riding accident.”

“That’s quite abrupt. I don’t know.”

“So you admit it was murder.”

“Officially, it was an accident.”

 

He answered so calmly. Hard to believe he’s only sixteen. He’s far more suited to be a lord than Viscount Kioja. Now I see why the Duke of Veneto has him in mind as a successor.

 

‘Still, I can’t just let you win. Kid, you picked the wrong opponent. Don’t blame me.’

 

Even if he’ll end up becoming the successor, he’ll get the shock of his life because of me.

 

“I’m looking forward to our match tomorrow.”

“So am I.”

 

Vincent and I faced each other and smiled.