CH-03

After thinking it over for a long time, Ceaser reached out and shook the silver bell sitting on the table.

A clear metallic ring echoed through the quiet office.

Through the half-open window, the summer air slowly seeped inside, gently swaying the curtains.

The warm breeze carried the scent of grass and the warmth of the garden heated by the sun.

"Bring me the newspaper."

"Yes, Your Grace."

Robert, the butler who quickly arrived at the bedroom in response to the ringing bell, noticed that his master's condition was slightly different than usual.

Things must not have gone well for him in the capital. Well, that must be why he came down to the estate after such a long time.

Thinking so and brushing it off as usual, Robert quickly returned with today's newspaper and a glass of cold water.

In any case, his duty was to serve his master well, not to fret over the complex political situation in the capital.

"……May 1st, 1835?"

An absurd laugh escaped Ceaser’s lips after he completely emptied the glass of water.

It was an unbelievable date.

Because drinking a clean, unpolluted glass of water on the battlefield was such a luxury, Victor ordered the butler to bring him something to drink again. He added that he should bring a cup of coffee as well.

Have I finally gone mad?

His last memory was a temporary field hospital for the wounded. It was bombed, and he had likely breathed his last there. Yet here he was, back four years in the past with his limbs completely intact.

After calmly reviewing the events written in the newspaper articles that he had seen before, he immediately headed to the mirror.

It was an object he would never normally bother to look at unless he was putting on formal attire for a banquet, and he had never found a reason to, but right now, it was incredibly useful.

In the full-length mirror, a man with an imposing, intimidating build stared back at him. Astonishingly, the slash wound near his eye, which he had received while fighting a major war against Germans, had cleanly vanished. It was more accurate to say that at this point in time, it hadn't even happened yet.

His knee, which had been uncomfortable after being grazed by a bullet, was perfectly fine, and above all, the look in his eyes was different.

The eyes of someone who has survived facing death multiple times are inevitably filled with an irrepressible murderous intent. However, the man currently in the mirror was quite…handsome.

In other words, he didn't look like a dangerous explosive.It meant that he was alive.

"So I looked like this back then."

Soon, he began unbuttoning his shirt one by one.

Even inside the house, it was his suffocating preference to button his shirt all the way to his neck and wear a full vest, but right now, he had no choice. He needed to inspect his body immediately.

"The gunshot wound on this side has disappeared too. However, my body feels completely useless."

The butler, who late arrived with water and coffee, pretended not to hear his master talking to himself.

To strip completely naked in broad daylight and criticize upper body muscles that looked nothing short of magnificent to the butler—the butler thought his master was acting a bit strange.

However, in the deeply historic house of Reinhardt, it was an abuse of authority to even blindly question what the head of the family was doing.

Instead, the butler immediately bowed his head at his master's command.

"Go out and call a reporter from the most famous newspaper company."

"To come here."

"Understood. Would a political daily newspaper be best? Or would you prefer a gossip column?"

At the butler's question, Ceaser pondered for a moment before speaking in a low voice.

"Both. Because I am going to place a marriage advertisement."

This time, no matter how experienced the butler was, he couldn't stop his eyes from widening.

A day later, Ceaser realised he was still in his estate.

I never even imagined a return like this. It seems God scraped together what non-existent mercy He had and bestowed it upon me.

As he thought about this nonchalantly, his next move was to pull out a sheet of paper and write down every single piece of information he knew.

It was everything.

From minor details like personal information about officers and soldiers, to the grand scale of where and what battles took place. And on the final page, he described in quite explicit detail why he had been abandoned and what kind of corner he had been backed into as a result.

What the problem had been, and why it had been impossible to survive,he recorded it all meticulously.

At this current point in time, I am the only one who knows about the war that will break out between Germae and Valencia in the future.

If preventing it was what God wanted, he was willing to oblige. No matter how fierce a war is, international conventions dictate that places holding wounded soldiers must not be attacked.

If this rule were to be broken, not only both nations but all surrounding countries were supposed to join forces and condemn the violation.

Yet,Germae launched an assault as if completely disregarding such trivial things.

‘In other words, it means the beloved King Valencia permitted it.’

He had been caught in the crossfire of two kings venting their rage.To sum it up in a single line, that was what it was.Because of that, his officers, his soldiers, and his doctors were slaughtered.

*Crack.*

Perhaps because he had accidentally applied too much pressure to the hand holding the fountain pen, the pen snapped.

After a moment of silent tribute to the remains of what used to be a cherished fountain pen, he discarded it without regret and drew a new one.

For now, this was still fine.Because this wasn't the time when he had to hold a piece of charcoal and hand down orders for guerrilla warfare.

‘First, I need to weed out my most loyal subordinates.’

War reveals the absolute bottom of human nature.

There were those who deserted and those who betrayed, but until the very end there were also many comrades-in-arms who fought alongside him.

‘Lian.’

Suddenly, the elegant fingers holding the fountain pen stopped.

The sole non-combatant.

The person who had desperately tried to keep him alive until the very end.

‘What was it he said at the last moment? He told me to survive.’

He didn't know why such a miracle had occurred.

There was no way all of this was a dream.

After pondering for a long time, his thoughts landed on Lian.

‘If it wasn't me who caused this miracle, it must be Lian. Perhaps he returned with me as well.’

If it really was Lian who brought him back to life……

A Reinhardt always repays their debts.

But what method would be best?

Where on earth was he supposed to find a man who used to be a commoner? He remembered which school he had graduated from since it was in the records, so he had memorized it.

However, finding him based on that alone was bound to be a very difficult task.

‘Come to think of it, Lian always cleverly concealed the truth.’

Thinking that Ceaser hadn't noticed, Lian had looked quite proud of himself, so he had simply let it slide.

Since lying and hiding a truth you simply don't want to speak about are slightly different matters.Right, let's stop here for now...

"Bark! Bark!"

"Agh! Stop it! For a bloodline of the great Reinhardt to behave like such a beast!"

"Growl, bark! Bark!!!"

"Do you think I don't know you're doing this on purpose? I told you to stop! Oh, good heavens!"

Listening closely to the noise coming from outside, his expression instantly became blank.

His lips, which had softened slightly for a moment while thinking of Lian, hardened tightly, and his posture stiffened as well.

Indeed, Ceaser von reinhardt had a few secrets of his own. Secrets he didn't want to tell anyone.

"When on earth are you going to send that fellow to the asylum?"

That evening, at the dinner table, after he had completely assessed his situation.

His face bore scratch marks that anyone could see, and his aunt, Rosalyn Reinhardt, was throwing a furious fit.

"The firstborn is so exceptionally clever, so why is the second one like that! For the sake of that child, we must have him admitted immediately. At this rate, the Reinhardt name will become a laughingstock."

Despite being quite up there in years, Genevieve, who let her long hair hang loose, was still unmarried.

The reason to explicitly mention that she was unmarried was because that was the very reason Genevieve was currently staying here at the estate mansion.

After dabbling in investments close to a scam and blowing her share of the inheritance, his aunt had been living here around the time Ceasor’s younger sister, Diana passed away.

Since the house was spacious anyway, they rarely crossed paths, and considering that someone was needed to look after the twin sons Diana left behind, Ceaser had readily agreed to it.

‘But it didn't turn out as expected.’

The twins, who turned nine this year, had a terrible relationship with Rosalyn.

The fact that she was bringing up a psychiatric hospital said it all.

‘What did I do back then?’

As Ceaser stared at her blankly without giving any response, Rosalyn flinched and muttered something to correct herself.

"No, I mean, it's not like the honor of Reinhardt would be damaged over a mere child... but still, the second one's condition is serious. I know you might not understand well since you've just returned here after two years."

"An asylum, you say……."

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