CH225 Difference of Ideologies

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"So… why are you here, father? Worried about your son?" He didn't forget to tease lightly.

Drake chuckled darkly. "Ha! You wish. As I told you before—if you can't handle even a minor inconvenience like this, you'll never have a chance at usurping me."

His smile faded. His gaze grew distant, contemplative, as he looked between Alex and Udara.

Udara took the hint and began to rise, intending to excuse herself. But Alex caught her hand and stopped her.

"You don't have to leave," he said firmly. Then he turned to Drake. "She is my Shadow Guard. Whatever you tell me, she'll know eventually."

"You misunderstand, boy." Earl Drake shook his head slowly. "Much less her—I was debating whether to tell even you."

Alex's expression hardened. His frown deepened.

"…So I was right. There are bigger forces at play than just the Kellermans."

Drake gave him a sideways glance, lips curling. "You know… you're too bright for your own good."

"You're the one to blame for that, aren't you?" Alex chuckled. "You stuck me in a place with nothing but books for entertainment, then sent me to an old man who made me read even more. There's nothing new under the sun that hasn't already been written somewhere."

He tilted his head slightly. "So? Am I right?"

Earl Drake Fury didn't answer. He only stared at his son in silence.

"I see…" Alex muttered.

He thought for a moment, then nodded to himself.

"Knowing you, old man, you're probably here to cut off the hand reaching for what's yours. Isn't that right?"

Drake's gaze didn't waver. "Why do you think so?"

"Because that's what I would've done."

Alex smiled. His eyes glowed faintly crimson, his grin laced with a strange edge of Madness.

Calm Madness.

Drake's lips curved as well, his expression almost a mirror of his son's.

In that moment, Udara could only stare at the two of them—father and son, frighteningly alike. The only real difference between them was age.

"Enough chatter," Drake finally said. "As fun as it is trading words with this old man of yours, you'd better go check on your troops. The battle for the city ended while you were enjoying your little beauty nap."

Alex turned to Udara. She gave him a confirming nod, then quickly summarized the situation.

"What about the civilian casualties from the spell?" Alex asked.

"Lieutenant Cross investigated, as per your orders," Udara replied. "A dozen hostages died in total. Three were caught directly in the lance, the others perished in the immediate aftermath."

"Have their families been found?" Alex pressed.

"Yes, sir." She picked up a small booklet from the bedside table and handed it to him. "Identities, family records, and current locations. The survivors have been gathered at the City Hall, awaiting your arrival."

"Alright. Let's go."

Alex pushed himself to his feet. For a brief second, dizziness washed over him, but it passed almost immediately.

"Where are you going?" Drake asked, frowning.

"To meet the families of those who died… to apologise and seek their forgiveness."

"Seek their forgiveness…?" Drake's frown deepened.

He rose from his chair, snatched the booklet from Udara's hands, and flipped it open.

"Your spell took husbands from wives, wives from husbands, parents from children. Do you think simply asking for forgiveness will fix that?" His voice was cold, cutting. "What are you expecting, boy? That they hand you benevolence?"

Alex stiffened, unable to respond.

Drake's eyes narrowed. "If someone killed your wife, your siblings, or your children—would you forgive him just because he said 'I'm sorry'?"

Alex's throat tightened. He said nothing.

"See? You already know the answer." Drake leaned in, his tone almost mocking. "You're a Fury. You and I both know you wouldn't forgive. So why should these people be any different? What you're asking for is false benevolence."

Udara opened her mouth, wanting to interject, but no words came.

Drake pressed on, relentless. "You claim you're asking forgiveness, but what you really want is hypocrisy. Benevolence means sparing someone when you have the power to destroy them. But those widows and orphans? They can't touch you. You're the heir of a noble house. They'll have no choice but to accept whatever you say. That's not benevolence. That's coercion and hypocrisy, plain and simple."

Earl Drake stepped in front of his son.

"There is nothing to apologize for. You did the right thing by stopping that farce. If anyone should be blamed, it is the victims' families."

"What are—?" Alex started, but Drake cut him off.

"Have you forgotten, boy? This is a game of power!" Drake growled. "They were put in that position because they were weaker than the Wildkin. They died because their families were too weak to save them. They died because the liege they swore fealty to abandoned them and fled!

"If it were me—if anyone dared to lay a hand on my son—I would cut him down along with everything he holds dear. And if anyone dared touch those under my protection, I would hunt them down before they could ever strike."

His eyes gleamed as he stared Alex down.

"If anything, the people here should be thanking you for freeing them from the Wildkin's grasp and sparing them a lifetime of suffering."

He snorted.

"Yet you want to apologize? Absolutely ridiculous."

Alex clenched his jaw. He wanted to argue -to call him out- but forced himself to hold back.

In this world, where war and chaos were constant, where civilian deaths were just another statistic, Drake's twisted words weren't entirely wrong and it was Alex's decision that was flawed.

Drake was a man who had preached the Principle of Power to him from the very first moment he awoke in this world—so of course he was consistent.

Would Drake truly hunt down anyone who harmed his child, no matter who they were? Alex wasn't sure. But seeing him here, disguised as a knight's adjutant, prepared to strike against the secret force aiding the Kellermans to threaten his lands—combined with his infamous title of Mad Earl—Alex was inclined to believe it.

The man was just that crazy.

Which meant it was pointless to try to win him over with humility.

"Father," Alex finally said, "you're not wrong. This happened because the civilians were powerless to resist. But do you know what else isn't wrong?"

"What?"

"Apologizing for a wrong I committed, even though I'm strong. You may call it false benevolence, but to me it proves something..."—Alex met his father's eyes, a spark of defiance in his own—

"...while you may be stronger than me, I understand human nature better than you do—or ever want to."

Drake's face darkened. "So, you intend to defy me and drag the Fury name through the mud?"

"I will do no such thing," Alex replied calmly.

He opened his mouth to say more, then paused, shook his head, and changed his words.

"There's no point trying to sway you with morality. Unless you plan to strip me of the role you forced onto me, then watch quietly. I'll prove to you—power alone does not make a leader. Sometimes... a leader needs something else."

He walked to the exit the tent, leaving a word behind.

"Empathy."

Udara followed close behind.

Outside, Dread and Fen rushed to greet him—Fen leaping into his arms while Dread nudged against his side. The sight drew the attention of nearby soldiers, but Alex wasn't in the mood to indulge them.

He mounted Dread with Fen in his arm. Udara climbed onto another warhorse. Together, they galloped toward Cowle City.

-

Jared emerged from the shadows beside the tent and stepped inside.

"What do you think?" Drake asked.

"He's the same as always. Smarter than his peers, but just as—if not more—naïve," Jared replied.

"At least he knows how to coat that naivety with a mask of pragmatism," Drake chuckled, agreeing with Jared's assessment.

"What do you want to do? Are you going to punish him for defying you, Master?" Jared asked.

"Of course not." Drake waved a hand dismissively. "I'm not looking for a puppet heir who only knows how to follow my instructions.

"Making mistakes and learning from them is part of the important learning process. Besides, it remains to be seen whether he'll actually fail."

"Master, do you believe his intentions will succeed?"

"I believe he believes they will." Drake shrugged. "This wouldn't be the first time he's pulled something interesting out of nothing.

"Let's go and watch for ourselves, shall we?"

Jared nodded.

The two left the tent and mounted their steeds, also riding toward the city.

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