Turning Chapter 817 (Patreon)

Chapter 817

It was at that moment that Yuder noticed something peculiar. The shadow cast over the coffin flickered unnaturally.

'...Gakane?'

The shadow originated from the ornate stained-glass window behind. Of course, the rest of the party, unable to enter, was outside the window.

The method Gakane and Yuder had agreed upon for communication involved capturing the end of the shadow cast by an object bridging inside and outside, allowing them to send signals discernible only to their allies.

The fact that it was now moving indicated trouble outside. To others, it might only seem like the shadow was shaking due to bad weather, but Yuder, through the subtle directions of the movement, could discern the nature of the problem.

'Dangerous entity detected, target identified.’

The fine trembling, as if an earthquake had occurred, meant a dangerous individual was spotted, and the flickering before stopping indicated the target was someone they all knew.

If it had merely been the detection of a dangerous person, the likelihood of it being Prince Katchian would have been high. However, the following message was unmistakably clear.

Without a doubt, they had found either the sage or Nahan.

"Commander."

Yuder softly called out to Kishiar, who, watching the same spot, nodded.

"I see it."

"What should we do?"

"No one can leave their seat until the first eulogy is over. They seem to have sent this as a preliminary report, so let's wait for now."

If Gakane had urgently needed assistance, the shadow would have shown more pronounced movements. As Kishiar said, for now, it seemed like a report of having a dangerous individual under observation.

'Such an incident right after the start.'

Had Duke Herne arrived earlier or later, Yuder might have slipped away in the nick of time. But now, with all the entrances sealed and a sudden hush, any movement would be too conspicuous, even for Yuder.

'Whether it's the sage or Nahan, I hope Gakane and Kurga handle it well until I get there.'

If both culprits were at the same place, it wouldn't be this quiet. Thus, he assumed it must be one of the two, leaning more towards the sage.

'There's no reason for Nahan to attend a noble's funeral. But the sage, definitely.'

While the information from Hosanna suggested Nahan might be a bastard of the Herne family or a related house, Nahan hadn't shown any behavior of clinging to a specific family.

The sage, however, was different. If he had come here after being displaced from his base due to a clash with Nahan, he would be desperately needing someone's help. And for him, craving power more than anyone, that someone would undoubtedly be a noble. Today, with so many southern nobles gathered in such a chaotic place, it was perfect for avoiding detection.

However, Prince Katchian, brought here by the foolish Kiolle, was also outside. If the sage and Katchian were to meet, even Yuder couldn't predict the outcome.

'I should have insisted Kiolle send the prince back first.'

Though Kiolle's word wouldn't have easily convinced the prince to return, had he known it would come to this, he would have certainly tried. Even considering personally knocking out the prince and sending him away was an option.

But the opportunity to do so had already passed. Yuder, reminding himself that there were no issues so far, decided to maintain his composure.

'I'll leave as soon as the priest's first eulogy is over.'

However, for some reason, the priest's eulogy was interminably long. Despite his extensive experience attending numerous noble funerals in his previous life, Yuder had never encountered such a long-winded speaker.

That alone would have been bearable, but the real problem erupted during the eulogy.

"How dare you yawn in front of my son's coffin!"

The mother of the Second Prince, who had been weeping as if the sky had fallen since her entrance, suddenly stood up and slapped the cheek of another woman sitting next to her.

"What is this insolence? Such disrespect!"

"Disrespect? Did you think I didn’t know that you've been mocking my son's death, laughing and gossiping about it? You beasts! How dare you come in here and sit down!"

Chaos erupted in an instant. The woman who was slapped stood up and screamed in response, while the other women nearby either cried, screamed in shock, or shouted. Amidst the tumult, one woman even clung to Duke Herne in fear.

Yuder observed Duke Herne, who was stroking the hair of the woman pretending to cry in his arms, and thought that he seemed to find the situation amusing.

Just a while ago, he had been looking boredly at the floor, but now, he was leisurely watching the fighting women. It was clear that he had no real interest in his son's funeral.

It was even doubtful whether the Second Prince Ashrav was truly his child.

But what was more surprising was the reaction of the onlookers.

"It's happening again."

"It reminds me of Prince Beniera's funeral. Something similar happened then..."

"No, that was worse. A mage got involved, and the temple nearly caught fire."

"I thought this time it would pass smoothly."

"..."

It seemed this wasn't the first time such a disturbance had occurred at a Herne family funeral. The only people who appeared shocked, with wide eyes, were Kiolle and a few others who obviously came from afar. The rest of the southern nobles watched the fight with an almost indifferent attitude.

The uproar of the fighters perplexed the priests, uncertain whether to continue the eulogy or intervene. Meanwhile, Duke Herne sat indifferent, regardless of the chaos.

'This is a real mess. Maybe I could take advantage of this and slip out.'

It was when Yuder had reached this thought.

"In front of Ashrav, what kind of disgrace is this!"

Myra, who had been quietly sitting till then, raised her voice without changing her posture.

Her voice, though still young and slightly immature, carried a definite anger that would make anyone pause.

The brawling stopped momentarily as everyone flinched. Myra glared at them and spoke again, her voice clear and firm.

"Whatever the reason, today is the day we send off Ashrav. Those who can't maintain proper decorum should leave immediately."

"..."

"I can overlook one outburst as excessive grief, but not a second."

"First Princess, does that mean I should tolerate those who yawn in front of Ashrav's coffin?"

Ashrav's mother asked, trembling. Myra's words were meant for everyone, but they seemed to go unheard by the woman, half-mad with overwhelming grief.

"Do not distort my words. I spoke to everyone."

"You must be pleased! Now you will be the sole heir! But don't be too confident about how long that joy will last! I will prove that your innocence in my son's death is a complete lie!"

Ashrav's mother shifted her attack from the other women to Myra. The woman who had been slapped snorted derisively and muttered audibly.

"Acting like she was ever a great mother. Is there anyone in the South who doesn't know how bad your relationship with your son was? To falsely accuse a silent person of yawning is beyond discernment."

"What did you say?!"

"Quiet."

As Ashrav's mother seemed about to erupt again, she hesitated at the sight of a white hand suddenly blocking her view. Myra, who had been sitting, finally stood up.

Without anger but with a cold face, Myra looked alternately at the two women and said,

"I would like both of you to leave."

"What? Why me?"

"What...! How dare anyone throw out me, Ashrav's mother!"

The woman protested in disbelief, while Ashrav's mother shouted in anger.

"Did I not just say? I will not tolerate any further disturbances. You have deliberately defied this again, so you must bear the consequences. Please escort them out."

"There's no such rule!"

"Duke Herne, I protest! Must I really be sent out too?"

The woman who had been slapped appealed for mercy from Duke Herne, while Ashrav's mother raged. However, Myra called the house guards stationed at the entrance with a firm demeanor.

Just as they hesitated but were about to follow Myra's command to apprehend the women, Duke Herne finally spoke.

"Myra. Let's leave it at this."

"..."

"Such commotion is not good. Ashrav wouldn't have wanted this."

This effectively included Myra in the 'commotion'. Myra's expression crumpled. The guards, who had been about to follow her order, immediately lowered their hands and turned away as if they had never heard such a command.

"Where are you going? Get them out of here!"

"..."

"Truly, like a fox commander."

Yuder heard Kishiar mutter this under his breath, expression unchanging.

"It seems he wasn't pleased with the situation solidifying her as the next heir unintentionally. He must have been waiting for such a situation to overturn her influence in one fell swoop."

'So that was it.'

Duke Herne, who didn't grieve his son's death, was unlikely to view Myra fondly.

Yuder was familiar with the sight of those in power guarding against any threat to their influence. Emperor Katchian was a prime example.

However, Duke Herne's actions were much more cunning than Katchian's. With just one timely phrase, he made a fool of the prospective heir in front of everyone, clearly demonstrating his absolute and thriving influence within Herne. Compared to Katchian, the title 'fox commander' was apt.

As Kishiar surveyed the bystanders, he suddenly raised his voice, calling Yuder.

"Assistant."

"Yes."

"Go out and assist the First Princess in escorting those ladies out. They clearly seem unfit to continue attending the funeral."