Became the Unjust Contract Slave of the Archamage’s Book

“The Margrave of Valhardt requests an audience, Your Grace.”

Addressing the Margrave with such high regard in front of Duke Dux was a level of rudeness that could provoke anger in some people. The Duke and Duchess both noticed this, but chose not to make an issue of it with the butler who had come to fetch them. The Duke was well aware of the high status the Margrave held in the northern regions of the Empire.

Duchess Melina looked at her husband.

“Shall I go with you?”

The Duke shook his head.

“No. You should wait here. I’ll just have a brief conversation and return.”

As Duke Dux stepped out of the room, he found Sir Baron fully armed and waiting for him. The Duke hadn’t called for any special guards to accompany him on his visit to the Margrave’s domain, but that didn’t mean his retainers would let him go alone. After drawing lots, Sir Baron was selected to accompany him.

“I’ll go with you, just in case.”

“It might be dangerous.”

“Valhardt was once my subordinate. Surely, you don’t think he would harm me?”

“That was a long time ago. People can change.”

The Duke sighed.

“Baron.”

“If he truly intends to harm me, the two of us wouldn’t stand a chance anyway, would we?”

“That’s… true.”

“So, it wouldn’t make a difference whether you’re there or not. I think it would be better for you to stay by Melina’s side.”

With that, Duke Torben Dux left Sir Baron behind and boarded the carriage that the Margrave’s butler had prepared. As they traveled to the Margrave’s castle, the Duke asked,

“What does Valhardt want to talk to me about?”

“I’m not sure. The Margrave will explain when you arrive.”

“Is it really just a ‘conversation’ he wants?”

The butler didn’t answer.

The Duke hadn’t really expected a response. The carriage quickly arrived at the castle, following the main road.

“What is going on here?”

From the entrance of the Margrave’s castle, soldiers were strewn about—more than just a few. These fully armed soldiers lay collapsed, each with their weapons broken beside them.

Duke Dux turned to the butler with a puzzled expression, but it was the butler, Hurt, who seemed more shocked. Seeing the butler’s wide, almost bulging eyes, the Duke realized that this wasn’t something the Margrave had planned. The Margrave was dealing with uninvited guests.

Inyakan pressed *Sikrun* against the Margrave’s neck and asked,

“Where are the barbaroi warriors you took?”

“What? What nonsense is this?”

“Don’t play dumb. I already know everything. I heard it all from that so-called Senega khan.”

“I don’t know! I’m telling you, I don’t know!”

“Hmm… Is that so?”

Binaeril looked around at his companions.

“What do you think?”

“He’s lying.”

“It’s a lie.”

Dominic and Priya concluded immediately, without even pausing to think.

“Of course, that’s what I thought too.”

“Seems like he hasn’t been taught a proper lesson yet.”

Inyakan lightly slashed the Margrave’s cheek with *Sikrun*. Blood started to trickle from the horizontal cut.

“Who are you people! Why won’t you believe me!” the Margrave shouted in frustration.

Inyakan found a suitable chair and sat the immobilized Margrave down.

“No, I believe you. So, stick to your story. You know nothing, and you’ve done nothing wrong. You said so yourself. No matter what happens, you must not contradict your words.”

With that, Inyakan kicked the Margrave’s knee hard.

A cracking sound echoed as the kneecap shattered, and the Margrave screamed in pain.

Although Binaeril’s magic rendered him unable to move a finger, it hadn’t numbed his senses.

“He’s too noisy. Binaeril, can you quiet him down?”

Binaeril cast an additional spell to silence the Margrave.

At that moment, they heard a commotion outside the bedroom where they were.

“Someone’s coming up.”

The sound of hurried footsteps ascending the stairs reached their ears. It was likely the remaining soldiers of the Margrave. Dominic prepared for battle.

But it wasn’t. The person who appeared through the broken doorway of the Margrave’s bedroom was someone Binaeril knew all too well.

The visitor and Binaeril pointed at each other, both shouting in surprise.

“Duke Dux!”

“Binaeril??”

Dominic and Priya, who had been ready to fight, were also shocked by the exchange.

What was the giant of the Empire, Duke Torben Dux, doing here?

But the most confused of all was Duke Dux himself.

Why was Binaeril Dalheim here, and who were these unfamiliar faces with him? 

Moreover, it looked as though Binaeril and his companions were torturing the Margrave of Valhardt.

“What in the world is going on here??”

Binaeril, with surprising patience, explained the situation to the Duke—about the people they were searching for, the circumstances of Barbaroana, and even the evidence suggesting that the Margrave had colluded with the tribe to hide the warriors.

The Duke listened with a stern expression as Binaeril laid everything out.

“Is that true?” he asked the Margrave.

The Margrave’s eyes trembled as he desperately looked at the Duke, but his lips remained tightly sealed.

Binaeril remembered that he had silenced the Margrave. With a snap of his fingers, the Margrave hastily began to speak.

“My lord! They are lying! How could I have colluded with the barbaroi to capture warriors? It’s preposterous!”

“If you were involved in such actions, then you had no intention of following the Emperor’s orders, did you?”

“No, my lord! I only sought your counsel on how to proceed!”

“Then why did you station armed forces on standby?”

The Margrave had prepared his soldiers in case anything went wrong. He had planned to capture the Duke if he felt insulted.

“It’s a misunderstanding! I can explain everything! If you just help me!”

The Duke turned to look at Binaeril once more.

“So he says.”

“Sorry, Duke Dux, but do you believe him?” Priya asked, her tone filled with disbelief.

Binaeril read the Duke’s expression. Although their time together hadn’t been long, Binaeril understood the Duke’s heart. Duke Dux didn’t truly believe the Margrave’s words; rather, he *wanted* to believe them.

Binaeril pulled Inyakan forward and introduced him.

“Your Grace, are you familiar with the name ‘Inyakan’?”

“There’s not a soldier from the northern front who doesn’t know that name.”

“This is the Inyakan.”

Duke Dux scrutinized Inyakan from head to toe.

“Hey, bald guy. Do you know who I am?”

“That arrogant attitude—seems you really are Inyakan.”

Binaeril nudged Inyakan in the side.

“You should confirm that we’re not lying.”

“And what exactly do you expect me to do?”

“Maybe talk about your honor as Inyakan, or whatever else it takes to convince him.”

Duke Dux was standing right there, and their conversation was loud enough for him to hear. Inyakan didn’t need to say anything further. The Duke had heard enough to understand Binaeril’s point.

“Alright. I get it.”

The Duke walked up to the Margrave, his steps measured and deliberate.

“Foolish child.”

Then, he began slapping the Margrave across the face.

Binaeril had never seen the Duke strike anyone before. By all accounts, the Margrave had once been under the Duke’s command. The Duke was known as a man who cared deeply for his subordinates.

*Smack! Smack! Smack!*

Perhaps because of this, the Duke’s slaps didn’t stop at just one.

“Ugh! Your Grace! My lord! Please, listen to me!”

The Margrave wailed as he was struck, but Duke Dux paid him no mind. The assault only stopped once the Margrave’s face was a bloody mess.

“The Duke is certainly… decisive.”

“Have you relieved your anger, Your Grace?”

No one intervened as they watched the Margrave being beaten to such a state.

“My apologies. The man you were looking for, and I ended up taking out my frustration on him.”

“It’s fine. If it’s true that he hid the barbaroi, we can detect them with magic,” Binaeril replied, then subtly signaled to Priya for assistance.

“No, that’s unnecessary. I have another way,” the Duke said as he called for the Margrave’s butler.

The butler was visibly terrified. When he saw the Margrave’s bloodied body, he gasped in shock.

“What’s your name?”

“Hurt, sir.”

“Did Valhardt capture the barbaroi? Where are they?”

Butler Hurt glanced around at the people surrounding his deceased master. He wasn’t foolish enough to show loyalty to a dead man in this situation.

“They’re locked in the dungeon beneath the castle.”

“How many are there?”

“There are quite a few.”

“Are they all barbaroi warriors?”

“As far as I know, yes.”

“Lead the way.”

Everyone followed the butler as they descended to the castle’s underground dungeon.

The Cherokee Khan and the barbaroi imprisoned in the Margrave’s dungeon were suffering from hunger and thirst. Since the Margrave’s last visit, the guards hadn’t given them even a crumb of bread or a drop of water.

They could endure the hunger; they were used to starving. But the thirst was unbearable.

Creak—

The door to the dungeon slowly opened.

However, none of them had the strength to lift their heads to see who had entered.

The Cherokee Khan strained to lift his head, trying to make out the figure beyond his blurred vision.

‘That noble bastard again…’

He was sure they had come to mock them as they slowly died.

The Cherokee Khan straightened his neck. He didn’t want to show any sign of weakness.

“KSHVAL… You wretched scum. Have you come to laugh at us? Even if we starve to death, I won’t beg for my life from you.”

“…What are you talking about?”

The voice that reached the Cherokee Khan was unfamiliar. It was unfamiliar yet somehow felt like a voice he had heard before. There was a bluntness in the voice, but also a hint of warmth, like that of an old friend.

“Cherokee Khan, you’re in quite a state. Just hold on a little longer.”

‘Who…?’

The Cherokee Khan rubbed his eyes, but his strength was so drained that he couldn’t see clearly.

The visitor grabbed the iron bars of the cell.

He began to pull them apart with sheer force.

“…It’s no use. Even when several of us tried together, these iron bars didn’t budge.”

“That’s your problem.”

The visitor dismissed the Cherokee Khan’s concerns and exerted his strength on the iron bars.

*Creak!*

The iron bars, which hadn’t moved an inch even when the barbaroi warriors pushed together, began to bend like soft candy. It was a display of immense, almost unbelievable, strength.

The visitor bent the bars until there was enough space for a person to pass through and then stuck his head inside the cell.

Hearing the sound of the bars bending, others in the cell, though exhausted, raised their heads.

In the dim light, the visitor’s face was faintly illuminated.

They rubbed their eyes, wondering if what they were seeing was a hallucination.

“Lift your heads. Stand tall. The pride of the barbaroi does not break in a place like this.”

“W-Who are you?”

“I am Inyakan.”

It was true. It was him.

None other than the Inyakan.

The barbaroi warriors all recognized him, yet it was still hard to believe.

“You all look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Inyakan extended his hand to the Cherokee Khan.