When the Mid-Boss Villainous Noble Recalls Memories of a Past Life and Gains Game Knowledge. I Will Never Accept a Future Where I'm Called the Jealous Earl - Chapter 24

“Recently, one of our servants has been getting along rather well with my daughter.

I wouldn’t go so far as to call it love, but there’s no denying she’s taken an interest in them.”

“I see.”

“I’ve told her time and again that, as a noble, engagements are a duty to strengthen alliances, but she’s still quite young, after all.”

The Duke spoke quickly, almost as if trying to gloss over something, and then fell silent.

It was understandable. He was likely pondering whether I, Lord Dikaman, had become aware of the existence of the so-called descendant of the “hero” currently residing in his estate.

The reasoning was simple: the “hero” was a champion of the common people but nothing more than an uncontrollable individual to the kingdom—too powerful to be ignored.

The origin of this “hero” title traces back to a time when the status of commoners was even worse than it is now, reduced to mere tools of exploitation.

This man, unwilling to accept such injustice, stormed the royal castle alone to speak directly to the king.

After defeating numerous guards, he finally stood before the king and declared:

“Recognize us as people? Then silence all the nobles and prove that they are no more divine than commoners.”

And he did.

Just as he had when he stormed the castle, he single-handedly subdued every noble in the kingdom with his strength.

The king, who had never expected him to accomplish such a feat, had no choice but to acknowledge him. As a result, the commoners of the kingdom began to live far better lives.

This is the story of the “hero of the commoners.”

Looking back, this event was pivotal to the kingdom’s growth. Many nobles grudgingly admit this.

However, to the kingdom itself, an individual as overwhelmingly powerful as the hero was nothing short of a liability.

The lesser-known truth, kept from all but the nobility, is that the kingdom was effectively under the hero’s control following these events.

While his actions were for the people, there were times when they weakened the kingdom, and noble houses that dared to criticize him were destroyed.

“Are you planning to oppress the people again?”

That single line carried the weight of a curse. Any noble who defied it was crushed, even those who genuinely sought to protect the kingdom.

As a result, the nobility that survives to this day tends to be self-serving and corrupt. The nobles who prioritized their personal safety over the kingdom’s welfare managed to endure, while those with integrity were eradicated.

After the hero’s death, his son and daughter lacked his extraordinary strength. The kingdom provided them with substantial wealth and expelled them from its borders.

Finally free of the hero’s shadow, the kingdom began to rebuild itself, though the lack of strong noble houses left the land in turmoil for a time.

From the perspective of the nobles, this chaos was the consequence of the hero’s unchecked actions.

For the commoners, however, the disarray that followed his death reinforced their belief that the nobility was incompetent—a vicious cycle that continues to this day.

The kingdom remains on the brink of revolution, held together only by relentless suppression of dissent and careful management to restore order.

To prevent history from repeating itself, all nobles are bound by a magical contract to truthfully pass down the story of the hero, including the nobility’s disgraceful role in those events.

As a result, the hero is viewed by the nobility as an outright nuisance.

There are even radical factions among the nobles actively seeking to eradicate his bloodline, going so far as to hunt down his descendants.

Even a family as powerful as the Duke’s cannot guarantee control over this issue, as some within his own faction lean toward such radical views.

Yet, according to the knowledge I possess, the Duke welcomed the hero’s descendant into his household under the pretense of rewarding them for their aid in dungeon exploration.

However, this version of events was carefully curated. The details of how the Duke managed the situation and the reactions of other nobles remain unclear.

A sudden thought struck me: did the Duke’s daughter accept the protagonist knowing the full history?

It seems utterly irrational.

“I intend to speak more firmly with my daughter about this matter,” the Duke said.

After that, we walked in silence to the Duke’s carriage. Just as he was about to step inside, I delivered a decisive remark.

“Allowing a servant to grow close to your daughter without interference… Surely this servant must have some circumstances, like the two individuals I’ve sheltered who are being pursued by the church.”

“…”

“Perhaps they are despised by the nobility—someone like, say, a hero.”

“…!”

For just a moment, the Duke hesitated as he entered the carriage.

Now we’re even. Even if the Duke holds a trump card over me, he cannot use it so easily.

Both the Count’s and the Duke’s families are left with no choice but to maintain the status quo.

Neither side can escalate the situation, and our only option is to wait and see who resolves their vulnerabilities first.

“You’ve truly started to act like a proper head of a noble house,” the Duke said through the open carriage window as it began to pull away.

“This has been a valuable experience, Duke Ewell.”

With that, the window closed.

This truly had been an eye-opening experience.

Though I failed to annul the engagement—something the Duke seemed unusually reluctant to permit—I succeeded in avoiding outright defeat.

If not for my knowledge of this world, the Dikaman family might have suffered a total loss.

“Now then.”

There’s no time for sentimentality.

The Duke’s earlier comment about knowing the Beltona family was at the Count’s estate—how had he found out?

I had stationed enchanted fish created from jealousy to monitor for intruders around the estate and ensured we weren’t followed on the way back from the Duke’s territory.

Moreover, the Beltona family had been instructed to use the aliases Noll and Namis, and all staff were sworn to secrecy.

“Could it be a spy…?”

That was the only plausible explanation.

Not everyone is as loyal as Bosco or Mina. Some might sell information in exchange for money.

“Another betrayal…”

I was reminded of the early days of my tenure as head of the house, when spies had infiltrated in droves.

The thought left me feeling utterly drained.