----
"Count, please help me," a woman pleaded, her fist clenched tightly as if she were struggling to contain her pride.
Standing on the balcony of the royal palace, her body trembled slightly, yet she appeared strikingly beautiful, her golden eyes fixed on the man before her.
He was muscular, adorned with a mustache, and held a glass of wine, his gaze widening as he regarded her.
"Lady Kassidy, you don't need to harm yourself by doing this. Please, speak," the man replied, his tone laced with concern.
He had only recently been granted the title of Count after excelling in a battle against monstrous foes.
As he looked at Kassidy, a woman hailing from noble lineage, he couldn't help but notice how she was intent on pushing herself beyond her limits to ask for his assistance.
He understood that nobility often came with a heavy burden of pride, and her struggle suggested that whatever she was about to reveal was of great importance.
"Please marry me," she said, her voice trembling but resolute.
----
'What has happened to you, Kassidy?' Vinlig thought, pressing his child's broken body against his chest.
He held him tightly, even as the grotesque, mutilated flesh and the acrid smell of burning skin filled the air around them.
Despite the pain and heat searing through his armor, he was wholly focused on finding a way to save his child from this horrific fate.
He knew all too well that their remote location meant he could not summon any healers to assist them.
As he rushed upstairs, he noticed that the maids who had followed behind Kassidy were now standing on either side of the way, looking coldly at him.
'I should have listened,' he regretted.
He had always believed that kindness would be rewarded in some way, which is why he had chosen to show kindness and help the woman who had so earnestly begged him to marry her.
She approached him with a sincerity that was undeniable, offering to assist him with the management of the territory he had recently received from the royal family, as he had no prior experience in governance.
Before this, he had merely been a self-made leader of this forsaken place, long overlooked by the royal family due to the harsh conditions of the northern borders, where snow blanketed the land and food supplies were scarce.
His life had been consumed by battling monsters to protect the territory, but he had finally gathered enough merit to petition the royal family, requesting noble status for the Northern Territory.
He had expected to receive a Baron title, yet, thanks to his personal dedication and the support of other kingdoms he had aided, he unexpectedly received the esteemed title of Count—something that had been unheard of in the history of the Vendal Kingdom.
He had even received substantial financial support from the royal family to manage his territory.
But being naive and inexperienced in such matters, he handed over everything to his wife, hoping she would manage it well.
He took on the role of protector, safeguarding the territory as if they were a family: woman managed the household while he provided food and security.
But today, as he clenched his jaws and shut his eyes tightly, he felt the faint rhythm of his son's breath and the barely perceptible heartbeat that might have gone unnoticed without his awakened abilities and enhanced senses.
His child's heartbeat was alarmingly low.
It wasn't as if this child was not hers; he bore the same features as his mother and carried the blood of his father.
Yet, this child found himself in this dire condition because of that same mother.
"Count, we apologize!" the head maid, gardener, and other servants, finally able to enter, approached him and instantly bowed, their foreheads hitting the floor.
Some of them gritted their teeth while others seemed on the brink of tears at the sight of the young master in such a state.
They had attempted to break through during the chaos earlier, but the four maids stationed at the door had blocked their way.
'No, it's not your fault; it's my own,' the Count thought inwardly, feeling like a weak father for failing to protect his child.
Gritting his teeth, he made his way toward the door, momentarily halted by the servants' reactions.
He noticed, however, that while the head maid, gardener, and a few others showed regret, those flanking either side of the line bore no hint of guilt.
It was as if they were indifferent to the child's plight.
"This way, Count," one of the maids stepped forward, while another held back the head maid and the others, gesturing toward the room.
Krieek
As the door creaked open, it revealed a woman with golden eyes and cascading black hair, seated at a desk while engrossed in writing.
The Count, striving to calm himself, searched her features for any sign of affection or any hint of concern, but all he saw was coldness.
"Kassidy, our child is going to die."
"So?" The woman replied dismissively, her tone devoid of any emotion, as if the death of the newborn didn't concern her.
It was baffling, especially considering she had carried the child for nine long months and endured the excruciating pain of labor to bring him into the world.
"What? He's our child, Kassidy! How can you—" The man struggled to conceptualize the bizarre reality unfolding before him.
Their son had been born just under a week ago and now lay in a critical state, all because of his own mother.
He had been out, believing he was safeguarding his family from external threats, oblivious to the fact that the real monsters loomed within the walls of their home.
"He doesn't have any mana, Vinlig," Kassidy replied in a flat, clinical tone, appearing emotionally detached as she busily scribbled notes on some papers and pressed her stamp onto a document.
"So?" Vinlig couldn't grasp the absurdity of the situation.
How could she focus on their child's abilities at a time when he desperately needed medical attention?
"Haaah...." With an exasperated sigh, Kassidy finally stood up from her chair, papers clutched in her hands.
She approached Vinlig, eyeing him with a mix of contempt and disdain.
To her, he was a naive fool—an easy target for manipulation.
Here was a man destined for greatness, favored by numerous higher-ups, yet he had chosen to settle in this desolate northern land, insisting on helping those whom the nobility had abandoned.
Gazing down at the man and the almost lifeless newborn he cradled in his arms, she saw two failures before her: a useless father and a son devoid of potential.
Both lacked the power she deemed essential; the Count's title was meaningless given that he didn't even possess any fertile lands that could bring any fortune, except for a discovered mana mine.
The genetic legacy of both father and son appeared hopelessly flawed in her eyes.
"You know what this is, Vinlig," she said suddenly, withdrawing a bottle of green liquid that emitted a soft glow. She aimed it at Count, whose eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the bottle.
"T-thank you, Kassidy!" Count exclaimed, instinctively reaching for the bottle. However, she swiftly yanked her hand away, keeping it just out of his reach, before extending her other hand to present the stack of papers to him.
"Sign it, Vinlig, if you want to ensure that thing stays alive," she declared coolly, her gaze locked onto his trembling expression. Realizing he would likely ask what the documents involved, she started to explain, "It's documents for—?!"
"I'll do it!" Count interrupted her, not even waiting for her to finish. He was willing to sign anything, without a care for the contents, even if it meant to become her slave.
Right now, nothing was more important than his son.
Clutching the small child in his embrace, he took the papers from her and moved over to the desk, quickly setting them down to scrawl his signature.
'...What a duo,' Kassidy mused, her gaze fixed on the man as he signed the documents that encompassed both their divorce and the ownership of the mana mine.
Despite her initial reservations, she felt a sense of relief wash over her; perhaps this seemingly useless son she had borne in hopes of gaining a talented ally had finally proven to be of some help.
In that moment, she decided to extend one last favor to her disappointing son: a healing potion.
The healing potion would be given to the child in exchange for securing the divorce and claim to the mana mine.
In the end, perhaps she indeed fulfilled her responsibilities as a mother.
After all, his foolish father was so shortsighted that he did not stockpile healing potions, which were costly. Instead, he used that money to purchase food to distribute among the commoners, neglecting to keep healing potions for his own protection.
Even the one or two that were left as backup, given the subjugation of monsters, had been used on dying soldiers—such a foolish man indeed who doesn't know that soldiers are just pawns used and discarded, not something on whom such precious potions should be used.
Kassidy couldn't help but feel how crucial this opportunity was. The child needed urgent help, with no way to go out and arrange for a healer in this barren land.
He was cornered into making a decision, and given how she had ensured that he fell in love with her over these two years, she felt confident in her course of action—She knew how much he cared for that useless child.
However, in the end, he was someone who earned his title due to his battle strength, and to bind a kind and strong man was simply to provide him with love.
That is exactly what Kassidy had done over these two years. She had completely bound Count Vinlig, enough so that he wouldn't even think of harming her, even if she were to kill that child now.
In the end, love is indeed stronger than slavery.
And Count Vinlig was like a beast with the heart of a chicken.