Akatsuki Translations

The carriage made its way through the night-shrouded streets of the city. The blurred lights of the night flowing past the window dragged Bineau Mordred deep into the swamp of melancholy.

As the passing laborers made way for the carriage and bowed their heads, Bineau’s face twisted bitterly. He couldn’t shake the feeling that their lowered faces concealed contempt.

“People are mirrors,” Bineau mused. “To find others disagreeable is proof that one’s own heart has grown bitter. Yet even knowing this, I cannot escape this cutting discomfort.”

It was a thoroughly vexing night.

As the carriage passed through the gates of the Mordred estate where he resided, Bineau didn’t wait for the door to be opened. He pushed it open himself as soon as the coachman brought the carriage to a halt.

Stepping onto the gravel that carpeted the garden, he saw servants rushing out from the manor.

Count Mordred, the master of this estate, handed his hat and coat to the elderly butler who had come out first to greet him.

The old butler bowed deeply and said, “My lord, I thought you were scheduled for business negotiations at your estate today. We expected you to stay overnight there.”

Bineau smoothed back his golden hair, now streaked with white and tousled by the wind, fixing his blue eyes on a point in empty space. “They called off the deal at the last minute,” he growled. “Henceforth, our house will conduct no further business with anyone associated with La Jean Trading Company. See that this is made known.”

The butler held the coat and hat as if they were treasures, bowing his head respectfully. “Understood, my lord.”

Bineau had been working tirelessly, with high hopes, on a deal with this new trading company that had secured extensive trade routes. He had planned to mass-produce and widely sell high-quality crafts modeled after animals. But as soon as he handed over the wooden statue samples of three monkeys he had designed, their previously friendly attitude had changed completely.

He hadn’t inflated the price. Considering the effort involved, the quality of the wood, and the wages paid to the craftsmen, the profit for the Count’s coffers would have been negligible. But even so, he had been prepared to make sacrifices, believing it would establish a relationship with a new trading partner.

On his way to the entrance, Bineau’s eyes fell on wooden crates stacked against the manor wall. “What are those?” he asked.

“Well, about that—” the old butler hesitated, seeming reluctant to explain. “They are the items we previously sold to the street merchants. They were brought back this afternoon through an agent.”

Bineau turned back, startled. “Surely they haven’t returned them? I have no intention of issuing refunds!”

“They said that wouldn’t be necessary,” the butler replied. “It’s difficult to say, but apparently the sales were poor, and they could no longer keep them in their warehouse…”

Bineau staggered backward. For merchants who would sell even their pride for money to return goods at a great loss—it was unthinkable.

“My lord… please, calm yourself,” the butler pleaded.

Bineau turned his back on the stacked crates, raising his voice. “I’ll rest in my room. Have some red wine prepared!”

“As you wish, my lord…” the butler responded hesitantly.

Bineau was about to enter the manor when he paused, sensing something amiss in his usually faithful butler’s demeanor.

“Is there something else?” he asked sharply.

The butler’s shoulders trembled as he wiped sweat from his brow, looking utterly exhausted.

Bineau grabbed the butler’s bony upper arm. “Speak,” he commanded.

Resigned, the butler bowed slightly and motioned to whisper in Bineau’s ear. “Please, remain calm. You see… it’s about Lady Aise…”

With each word that reached his ears, Bineau’s face contorted with mounting rage.

Bineau burst into his daughter’s room, a place he rarely entered, and was struck speechless by the scene before him.

His elaborately dressed daughter sat at a small table, dining intimately with a young man who appeared to be a commoner from the North.

Startled by her father’s sudden entrance, Aise jumped to her feet, her voice cracking. “Father!?”

The young man Aise had brought in stared at Bineau, frozen with his cheeks still full of food.

“You wretch—” Bineau snarled, instantly constructing crynetic wind. Not in the form of a simple gust, but shaped like a throwing spear—his most skilled and favored form.

As the wind spear howled fiercely in his hand, taking its final shape, Bineau hurled it at the man who remained seated, watching warily.

The released crynetic energy had enough power to pierce even thick stone walls. It would undoubtedly kill a human instantly upon contact.

But Bineau couldn’t believe his eyes.

The man dodged the wind spear by simply leaning back in his chair, avoiding it by a hair’s breadth. In the end, the released energy merely punctured a hole in the manor wall, an anticlimactic result far removed from its imposing appearance.

Convinced it was mere chance, Bineau immediately prepared another strike. But just before the second spear could form in his hand, the man shattered the window and leapt outside to escape.

Bineau rushed to the window, but the man had vanished into the night’s darkness.

As the delayed butler entered the room, Aise cried out in protest. “I asked you not to tell him!”

“My sincerest apologies, my lady. But when directly questioned by the master, I had no choice but to answer…” the butler explained, bowing deeply.

Shifting her glare from the prostrate butler to Bineau, Aise fixed her father with a fierce look. “Father, you nearly killed my benefactor! To attack without a word—it’s too cruel!”

Inwardly, Bineau was taken aback by his daughter’s unprecedented fury.

“Before you accuse others, reflect on your own actions,” Bineau retorted. “If this became public, it would jeopardize the marriages of all those with Mordred blood. If you had any consideration for our family, you’d never even contemplate such a thing.”

“But—” Aise began to argue.

Ignoring his daughter’s protests, Bineau rapidly issued orders to the butler. “Send out pursuers immediately! Find that man and ensure he never dares cross class lines again!”

“Father!” Aise cried.

“Aise, you are forbidden from leaving for a while. Stay quietly in your room until I give you permission.”

“But I have duties—”

“I’ll speak with the Gemstone Academy myself.”

“This is tyrannical! I’m not a child anymore!”

“Are you truly not? Reflect carefully on your actions today.”

Leaving Aise alone, Bineau closed the door and pressed his temples. “Post guards at her door and in the garden… And arrange for craftsmen to repair the wall.”

The butler bowed silently, his face pale.

Bineau took a step towards his room, intending to retire, but whether due to his rage-fueled exertion or not, his legs gave way. He stumbled, his shoulder hitting the wall as he slumped down.

The voices of servants rushing to his aid didn’t reach him as he sat there, his shoulders sagging in defeat.

What a day, he thought bitterly.

At this point, he didn’t even have the energy left to drown his sorrows in drink.