30 Years After Reincarnating, It Turns Out This World Was A Rofan?! novel Chapter 87

“This guy, he moves fast.”

‘No wonder he rose so quickly despite his youth.’

There was something shrewd about him. Despite his obsequiousness, he knew when to stand firm and when to bend. Normally, Ihan might have respected him for that. Many would dismiss it as cowardice, but Ihan saw it as a smart survival strategy.

But right now, any trace of respect was far from his mind.

Usually, a poor first impression was enough to last indefinitely, and that was precisely the case here.

‘If he were truly as sharp as he seems, he wouldn’t have sent those thugs after my disciple.’

Huuuk.

A murderous aura surged forth along with his irritation.

Ihan was still struggling to fully control his intensity after taking the [Unmeasurable Grade] elixir, and with this bunch, he didn’t bother trying to suppress it.

Shatter! The sound of nearby glass breaking, from both drinking glasses and windows, filled the room. The raw aura emanating from Ihan was powerful enough to shake even sturdy objects.

Objects made of glass, with their relatively fragile durability, "screamed" from the intensity. And in silence, Simon and his assistant let out internal screams of their own.

Simon had every desire to flee, but he knew better than to try.

If he attempted to run from this hatchet-wielding monster, he’d likely find himself with an unwelcome new "air hole."

At twenty-nine years old, Simon wasn’t ready to leave this world just yet.

“Do you... know anything about the Marquess of Tristan?” he asked, beginning to spill everything he knew.

“Hm, not really,” Ihan replied.

“But... it’s a very well-known house...”

A knight unaware of House Tristan? Wasn’t that problematic?

“So, does that matter here?”

“Er, I suppose not. You don’t need to know, after all, sir.”

Yes, there was no need for him to know!

Even if House Tristan was one of the founding noble families, with only three marquessates left in the kingdom, what difference did that make?

If he didn’t know, that was on Tristan!

Simon continued, his words as sycophantic as could be.

“Uh, a-anyway, the Tristan family is indeed a powerful one. While they may not be on the scale of House Lionel or House Galahad, they are significant, with over a hundred knights. Other than the White Lion Order, few houses can boast such a large number of knights.”

“A hundred knights...”

Though skill levels among knights varied, each was like a raw gem, refined and filtered through a demanding process. Many trained in the art of combat, but for every thirty who began, maybe only one ever became a true knight.

While rural nobility might have subpar knights, the great noble houses rooted in the capital were of a different caliber.

The elite of the elite.

One knight could hold off dozens of seasoned soldiers, after all.

And this house had a hundred such knights under its banner?

The financial strength needed to maintain a hundred knights, not to mention the royal permission to do so, underscored the high authority they commanded.

“And the current head of the house, Marquess Genemia, still has no children. As such, House Tristan is working tirelessly to arrange a marriage for the marquess, as they risk losing their line.”

The Tristan house’s inability to secure an heir held significant implications.

As one of the elder pillars of the royalist faction, their influence over the royal family was substantial.

Should such a factional leader fail to produce an heir, it would sap nearly thirty percent of the royalists’ power.

For the royalist faction, this was a development they could not afford.

“So why hasn’t this marquess gotten married or had kids yet?” Ihan asked.

“M-Marriage and children, sir...”

After all, this was the Marquess.

“Slow answer?”

“Oh, y-yes, my apologies!”

Ahem.

The question was understandable. Why hadn’t the head of a prestigious family—wealthy and powerful—produced an heir? The answer...

“Out of loyalty and a desire to preserve his noble dignity—”

“If you start spewing nonsense, I’ll cut out your tongue.”

“It’s no loyalty, sir! The men of House Tristan lose their... abilities as soon as they father a child. In other words, they’re castrated after having a kid. And Marquess Genemia, renowned for his taste in pleasures, has simply chosen not to... sacrifice himself in that way. He has mistresses but refrains from fathering any children.”

“What a spectacle. How old is this guy?”

“He’s fifty-three, sir.”

“...”

“Ahem.”

Simon averted his eyes, feeling embarrassed by his own explanation, while Ihan...

“That’s... pretty impressive.”

It was more admiration than disdain.

He had to admit, maintaining that level of vitality at that age was no small feat.

However.

“So what does this Marquess Tristan or whoever have to do with my disciple?”

The critical point had yet to be addressed, and Ihan demanded an answer. Simon hesitated briefly but then—

“T-The Marquess of Genemia sent a matchmaker to Lady Folt. He seems ready to settle down...”

“And specifically to whom?”

“...”

“It’s not, is it?”

“Ahem.”

“...Hell.”

Ihan cursed under his breath.

Even without a direct answer, he knew who they were proposing to.

He was stunned.

“Once again, I must stress that we are simply matchmakers here, sir. The marquess wished for a meeting, and the Guild merely facilitated it.”

“Why did he want your Guild to handle it?”

“It’s actually quite common for us to handle noble matchmaking. Some engagements are arranged between houses, but... as you may be aware, nobles aren’t immune to certain issues. Often, engagements fall through, either due to incompatibility or... issues of infidelity or violence.”

Nobles couldn’t risk exposing their flaws.

Thus, if any unpleasant matters arose, they preferred to resolve them discreetly, no matter the cost.

In short, as long as the outcome was favorable, the means were secondary.

“The marquess, realizing it was time to produce an heir, selected Lady Revi Folt as a suitable match. Of course, his reputation required that this arrangement with such a young lady be kept confidential. The Guild is doing its utmost to ensure the success of this marriage.”

“...”

“Though it may be uncomfortable for you, sir, Lady Revi Folt is highly sought after among nobles. Not only is she beautiful, but she’s also shown great promise as a swordswoman at a young age. For knightly families, the possibility of producing a strong heir with such a partner is highly desirable.”

“...”

“Haa...”

Simon sighed heavily, looking several years older.

Not only had he revealed the Guild’s dirty secrets, but he’d also disclosed the faults of the great noble houses.