Antonio Barca was at a loss for words.
When he heard that Roman would be attending the party, he hadn’t been worried in the slightest.
It was only natural.
Roman had called off the engagement.
That meant his threats had worked, and he was the one holding the knife by the handle.
"Roman. From now on, you’d better think carefully before you speak. You didn’t just spend time fooling around with other women before a political marriage—you messed with a woman from the Barca family. Asking you to become one of us was a way to make you take responsibility for your actions. Offering you a marriage with my sister, a direct descendant of the Barca family, was my final act of consideration for our relationship. And now, you dare to call it a ‘petty reason’ in front of me?" His voice boiled with anger.
It seemed his rage wouldn’t subside easily.
He downed a bottle of alcohol and spoke in a chilling tone.
"Hey. I’m not like you. You’re just the disgrace of Dmitry, pushed aside in the succession. But I’m the heir who will inherit everything from the Barca family. And yet, not only did you take the flower of Lawrence from me, but you also messed with a woman from the Barca family. Did you really think you’d get away with it? You’re making a mistake you can’t take back."
His attitude had changed.
The friendly companion was gone, and Antonio Barca now held the knife to Roman’s throat.
He thought to himself, If it’s the Roman I remember, he’d lower his head and submit by now.
But instead, Roman smiled coldly.
"Do as you please."
The weapon in his hand—it wasn’t a real "knife."
To Roman, those words meant nothing, and he didn’t falter in the slightest.
"I’m just the fool of Dmitry anyway. My reputation is already trash, and even if rumors spread that I fooled around with multiple women after a political marriage, it won’t change anything. Ah, as you said, Dmitry’s honor might take a hit. But hey, I’m already that kind of guy, aren’t I?"
"You bastard...!"
"Antonio. You’re the one who needs to watch your step now."
The Barca family had a misconception.
While they were a powerful force in the northeast, their influence didn’t come from there—it came from the central government.
Their power was based on connections.
In terms of influence in the northeast alone, they couldn’t surpass Dmitry.
Roman continued, "The reason I called off the engagement wasn’t because of your threats. I genuinely believed this marriage wasn’t necessary, so I made the decision despite the criticism. In the end, you achieved your goal. Dmitry has turned its back on Lawrence, so the Barca family can proceed with your plans more smoothly. But now, if the heir of Barca bares his fangs at me, how should I respond? Even if it’s to settle a personal grudge, wouldn’t I end up helping Lawrence and hindering Barca?"
In that moment, Antonio Barca felt a chill run down his spine.
In response to his threats, Roman had effectively held a knife to his throat as well.
*...
Was Roman always like this?*
No. Roman had been weak.
Despite being the eldest son of Dmitry, there was a reason people looked down on him.
Suddenly, a rumor Antonio had heard came to mind.
"Roman Dmitry defeated Blood Pang. The fool of Dmitry was actually a hidden dragon."
That rumor.
He had thought it was nonsense.
Knowing what kind of person Roman was, he couldn’t believe that Roman had the strength to defeat Blood Pang.
But now, things were different.
The way Roman looked at him, the pressure that made his mouth go dry—Antonio had no choice but to revise his assessment of Roman.
*It’s clear.
Roman has changed.*
The fool of Dmitry—that person no longer existed.
The silence dragged on.
As Antonio Barca fell into deep thought, Roman’s gaze turned icy.
*You don’t have a choice anyway.
If you were in a position to choose, you wouldn’t have needed to go through the trouble of drugging me and setting a trap.*
This incident was a simple matter.
Even though Dmitry had openly taken what Barca wanted, Barca had never officially raised a voice of protest.
Why? Because Dmitry’s power was too strong.
Knowing what would happen if they opposed Dmitry, Barca couldn’t take any action.
And so, Roman made him face reality.
Antonio Barca’s pride was hurt, and his face turned red, but he had no choice but to accept the situation.
"... I understand. If we end things here, you won’t interfere with Lawrence’s affairs in the future, right?"
"That’s right."
"Then let’s leave it at that."
A compromise was reached.
As Antonio Barca bowed his head, Roman hid his true thoughts.
If I’m going to live as Roman Dmitry from now on, I can’t just leave Barca alone after they threatened me.
An enemy.
Barca had positioned themselves against Roman.
Roman was generous to his own people, but he showed no mercy to those who opposed him.
This time was no different.
The reason he offered Antonio Barca temporary peace wasn’t because he desired peace, but because he knew Dmitry had no reason to shed blood.
*The stage to judge Barca doesn’t have to be Dmitry.
When Barca and Lawrence are locked in a desperate battle, each aiming for the other’s life, I’ll seize the moment when Barca lets their guard down and cut their throats.*
On his path to the pinnacle of the demonic sect, Baek Joong-hyuk had both fallen victim to schemes and used schemes to bring down his enemies.
Recognizing Barca as an enemy didn’t mean he would immediately flare up and fight.
Only a fool would cut off their own flesh to spite others.
Sometimes, he wore a mask.
Sometimes, he said the opposite of what he thought.
Roman offered Antonio Barca a brief moment of peace.
My throat feels dry.
Roman picked up a glass of wine.
As he looked at Antonio Barca, who couldn’t lift his head due to wounded pride, he slowly drank the wine.
Gulp.
His throat was dry.
Roman left the room.
Now that he had uncovered the truth shrouded in mystery, there was no reason to stay at the social party any longer.
Things are going to get busier from now on.
He had a lot to do.
In six months, he would have to fulfill his national defense duties, but before that, he planned to settle his grudge with Barca using his own strength.
He had no intention of relying on his family’s power.
This problem had originated from him, and for the sake of his future, he needed to build his own strength.
Coincidentally, Roman had secured a good condition from his father.
*Father has given me the authority to directly mobilize my own troops.
I’ll use that to build my own force.*
In this life, Roman had started anew.
He didn’t have a clear goal yet, but there was one thing he was certain of: he had to reign supreme.
The life of a demonic lord was like that.
He couldn’t live an ordinary life, so he knew he had to prepare step by step from now on.
The conflict between Lawrence and Barca would be a good stage to gain experience, and he would also use his national defense duties as a stepping stone for growth.
As he walked out, many nobles tried to speak to him.
Roman had become the center of attention at the party, and quite a few nobles were disappointed to see him leave.
Just then, as he stepped out of the party hall, a loud noise reached his ears.
Kevin?
The source of the noise.
At its center was Kevin, surrounded by a group of knights.
Guard.
Protecting someone.
Just hearing the word made Kevin’s heart race.
He couldn’t hide his excitement as he followed Roman.
I’ve become a noble’s guard.
And not just any noble—Roman Dmitry.
The fact that he was now the guard of someone he admired made Kevin want to do his best like never before.
So he got greedy.
He asked Hans to help him get a fancy set of armor to wear, and he put on a helmet that didn’t quite fit, trying to look serious.
Kevin, Roman’s guard.
He tried his best to act the part, just as Chris had advised him to be careful with his words and actions.
But others saw him differently.
No matter how hard Kevin tried, he still looked like a teenage soldier.
"What’s with him?"
"He’s Roman Dmitry’s guard?"
"Pfft, seriously? I heard Roman Dmitry was the disgraced eldest son of Dmitry, but bringing along a kid who can’t even hold a sword properly as a guard? That’s just sad."
"That’s the level of Dmitry for you."
At the entrance of the party hall, where the guards of various nobles were stationed, knights bearing the Barca emblem talked about Kevin.
It was as if they wanted him to hear.
Their voices weren’t lowered at all, and Kevin’s face turned red with anger.
"Hold it in," Chris said.
He had also heard the knights’ words, but he knew it wouldn’t be wise to start a fight with Barca’s knights.
"They’re knights of the Barca family. We don’t know what kind of relationship our lord has with the Barca family, so if we act recklessly, we might end up causing trouble for him. I told you before we left, didn’t I? We’re the face of Dmitry, and our lord’s reputation depends on our actions. So no matter what they say, keep your composure and show the dignity of a guard."
"... Understood."
Kevin nodded.
Being ignored wasn’t anything special.
For Kevin, who had lived in the slums, it was a daily occurrence, so he tried his best to ignore the knights’ taunts.
But as time went on, they went too far.
They approached Kevin and scrutinized him from all angles.
"Wow, how could anyone think of bringing a kid like this as a guard?"
"Look at this. The helmet doesn’t even fit. He must’ve picked up some armor from a blacksmith, thinking it would make him look like a guard. How pathetic. No wonder your lord is called the fool of Dmitry."
Kevin’s eyes narrowed.
He had endured the insults directed at him.
But the moment they mentioned the "fool of Dmitry," Kevin spoke with an angry expression.
"Watch your mouth."
"What?"
"Lord Roman isn’t someone who deserves to hear such words. So, watch your mouth."
"You little brat."
The knights’ expressions turned vicious.
Barca and Dmitry.
After the Lawrence incident, the relationship between the two families had soured.
Moreover, since Antonio Barca often looked down on Roman Dmitry, his knights felt no need to show respect to anyone from the Dmitry family.
Background was their strength.
One of the knights, who already had a grudge against the Dmitry family, swung a large hand toward Kevin’s face.
Smack!
"Say that again, you brat."
Kevin’s head snapped to the side.
Blood spurted from his face, and at that moment, Chris reached for his sword.
But he didn’t draw it.
While it was right to stand up for Kevin, he was worried that his actions might cause trouble for their lord.
Kevin felt the same way.
In the slums, he had learned to pay back what was done to him, but when his eyes met Chris’s, he suppressed his anger.
I’m my lord’s sword.
A guard.
Roman’s sword.
Determined to be of use to Roman, Kevin turned away from the knights’ gazes with a hardened expression.
It was as if he was saying he wouldn’t engage further.
Seeing this, the Barca knights spoke in an angry tone.
"Alright, let’s see how long you can keep your pride."
Once more, a knight raised his arm.
Just as he was about to slap Kevin’s cheek—
Smack!
A sharp sound echoed.
But it wasn’t Kevin who was hit.
Roman, who had appeared out of nowhere, slapped the knight’s cheek with a cold expression.