Chapter 12: Town

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Edited by: bafflinghaze

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The week passed with no more abnormalities in Nazareth's behavior. Save for a missing member in his brother's group of retainers, Aurelion's informants assured him that his brother's activities were still in the "resting period" since his last assassination attempt.

Speaking of which, he hadn't heard from those nobles who poisoned him a few weeks ago. The incident was pinned on his brother, but no one could explain the disappearance of the true culprits.

His spies reported it was his brother's doing. Apparently, they had foolishly offended him.

The world of the aristocracy was a dog-eat-dog society. One day, they thought they were the champions of the world. The next? They've angered his brother and disappeared in a whirlwind of smoke and ashes, reputation tarnished, penniless, and with no home to fall back on.

Aurelion almost pitied them.

Almost.

Of course, whether he agreed or disagreed with his brother's methods, the "solutions" didn't stop stupid people. There would always be others, circling him like poisoned moths to a flame.

They all thought they could imitate his brother, but in reality, they had no guts to truly understand what the other was capable of.

This game he and his brother played could never be understood by the likes of outsiders. It took years upon years to figure it all out. One would think it was a political ploy—a facade of discourse that would supposedly weaken the Odum Family.

Nazareth's attempts at his life were always rigidly scheduled. By the time they both entered the Junior Division, Aurelion had already figured out the pattern.

As a result, he was never caught off guard by the attacks thereafter. As for the occasional abnormalities, they never measured up to his brother's ruthlessness.

His years of dealing with his scummy brother had ironically saved him. No ordinary poison could beat what he was given when they were children. No amount of third-rate assassins could compare to whatever assassins' guild his brother was somehow subscribed to. As for his reputation? His brother's reputation would always be the worst.

He and Guinivere were saints compared to Nazareth. The world knew that.

The world assumed that.

It was no fault of their own for their assumptions.

Somehow, in Nazareth's own shitty way, he protected them, whether he realized that or not.

Not that anyone liked his methods besides himself.

Life was cruel, Aurelion mused, but not unbearably so.

The Odum Family held a lot of power, but they also had various enemies. Not only did he have to worry about Nazareth, but there were also others who desired his death.

Aurelion couldn't help but sigh.

Things were simpler when Nazareth was the only one trying to kill him. He knew he shouldn't be so nonchalant about these things, but he hadn't had a normal childhood since he was, like, five.

As life changed and the battlefield of Noble Society continued to shift, he chose to be comforted by the constants in his life.

The sky was blue, the Manor was cold.

His mother had the face of an ax murderer and his father would always be socially awkward.

Guinivere was cute in her own frosty way and Nazareth was the demonic wraith haunting their home.

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