The Yellow-Haired Villain in Soaring Phoenix's Novels Also Desires Happiness

Military formations stood arrayed, the atmosphere bleak and murderous.

In the distance, mountain-like shadows pressed down as they advanced, the thick stench of blood heavy in the air, making it hard to breathe.

“Duke, is this really all right?”

A middle-aged man clad in bloodstained armor, his expression solemn, turned after finishing task assignments for his subordinates and looked toward the highest seat in the command tent—the Duke of Campbell.

“What did you say?”

The Duke of Campbell opened his eyes. After a full year of war against the demonic race, his gaze was still sharp. His thick, rugged beard was like a lion’s mane, imposing even in stillness.

“The matter of delegating authority to the young master.”

After hesitating, the man still spoke in admonition.

“The young master is still young. Although storms are gathering in Belrand right now, handing over all the ducal estate’s resources there to him like this—isn’t it a bit too risky?”

“Heh, I wondered what you were going to say.”

The Duke of Campbell smiled faintly and closed his eyes again.

“That boy needs tempering. Sooner or later, he’ll have to shoulder the position of Duke anyway—letting him get used to it earlier is a good thing. Don’t worry. The ducal estate is vast; even if he really mismanages things a bit, how far could he possibly ruin it?”

“Is... is that so?”

The middle-aged man glanced at the documents in his hand, sent not long ago from Belrand.

“But it seems the Campbell young master has even sold your estates.”

“Just estates. Sold is sold.”

The Duke of Campbell waved his hand casually.

“I’m not so petty as to fret over one or two estates. If that boy was forced to sell them, he must have urgently needed funds. Let him be.”

“But...”

Looking at the numbers on the page, the man hesitated before continuing,

“The young master has sold all nine of your estates around Belrand. Is that really not a problem?”

“What problem could there—wait. How many?!”

The Duke of Campbell sprang up, eyes wide, slamming the table as he roared,

“Nine?! All of them?!”

“Y-yes. Though three of them are still listed for sale. After all, releasing that many estates at once—Belrand doesn’t have enough buyers with both the demand and the capital.”

“You’re telling me he’s already sold six whole estates?!”

The Duke of Campbell’s cheek twitched; his former dignity instantly vanished as he beat his chest and stomped his feet.

“What a sin! Those estates—some of them are older than even his grandfather’s grandfather. Rare antique buildings, extremely valuable. My Campbell family struggled for generations just to amass this bit of foundation, and that boy squandered it all clean in a single year. If he’s so capable, why doesn’t he sell the Campbell ancestral graves too?! What a sin!”

“Uh... well...”

The middle-aged man, who had been worried just moments before, now seemed a bit at a loss. He stepped forward to console him.

“Please calm yourself, my lord. They’re just a few estates. Compared to the current situation in Belrand, they’re not that crucial. Perhaps the Campbell young master has some important use for the funds? Please don’t be angry—damaging your health wouldn’t be good.”

“Then what exactly did he sell them for? There’s at least a hundred million Aimier in credit on his black card. Is that still not enough for him to spend?”

The Duke of Campbell suddenly calmed down and asked.

“This... let me check.”

The middle-aged man rapidly flipped through the intelligence reports.

“At present, what we know is... purchasing imitation weapons to legitimately liquidate obsolete stock, hiring the deputy president of the Adventurers’ Association, disaster relief fund distribution, purchasing magitech equipment, buying jewelry and gemstones... It seems that’s all.”

“That’s it?”

The Duke of Campbell stared blankly.

“He sold me six whole estates—with three more already listed—and all he did was this little bit?!”

“T-these things do look quite expensive...”

“Bullshit! Don’t take me for a fool. Even if that boy sold every estate at a fifty-percent loss, the money he got shouldn’t be this little. Can we trace all his spending channels?”

“This... since it’s the young master, it’s hard for us to look too deeply, and many personal uses are simply untraceable. We only know that a very large sum went into an account in the Holy City.”

“The Holy City?”

The Duke of Campbell frowned.

“What is that boy trying to do?”

“Unknown. It’s the Holy City, after all.”

The middle-aged man gave a bitter smile.

“Our hands can’t reach that far.”

“Hah... that boy’s wings have really hardened.”

The Duke of Campbell suddenly let out a long sigh and dropped back into his chair, leaning his head back to stare at the tent ceiling, already blackened by campfire smoke.

After a moment of silence, he suddenly said,

“Forget it. Let him be.”

“J-just let it go like this?”

The middle-aged man was astonished.

“What else? Go back now and beat that boy half to death?”

The Duke of Campbell shot him a glance. There was no trace left of his earlier grief and indignation as he spoke,

“In any case, all of this will be his in the future. If the boy uses his own things early, that’s his business. My reach doesn’t extend that far, and it’s not my place to interfere.”

“Then... the matter of delegating authority...”

“Heh. Do you think that after he’s bold enough to openly sell my estates, he’ll suddenly lack the nerve to take those things afterward? Give it to him. Let him toss things around. He scored an unprecedented eighty on the magical exam—something my Campbell family has never achieved before—and I still haven’t rewarded him. Consider this his reward.”

“......”

The middle-aged man’s eye twitched.

A ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) reward?

To give things of such immense value as a reward for a single exam—perhaps only a lord as endlessly indulgent of his young master as you could pull that off.

But...

The man stole a glance at the Duke of Campbell, watching him tug hard at his beloved beard, and knew that he wasn’t as magnanimous as he appeared.

He was, in fact, very much heartbroken over his estates.

“I understand. I’ll go make the arrangements at once.”

The middle-aged man acknowledged the order and prepared to leave.

But the Duke of Campbell suddenly called out to him again.

“Oh, right. From now on, make sure Belrand’s intelligence is delivered promptly. I have a feeling that what’s about to happen there won’t be so simple.”

“Simple?”

The man gave a wry smile.

“Two princes breaking free in a struggle over the imperial throne—no matter how you look at it, that can’t be called simple.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

The Duke of Campbell tapped the tabletop. Spread out before him were detailed records of every major event that had occurred in Belrand over the past month.

“I keep feeling that all of this... isn’t merely about a single throne. It feels like there’s something we can’t see clearly yet, hidden behind the scenes.”

“Something unseen?”

The middle-aged man asked in confusion.

“Does the Duke believe one of the princes is plotting something?”

“No. I don’t understand the two princes—but I do... understand His Majesty.”

The Duke of Campbell’s gaze swept over the reports again and again as he frowned.

“Our emperor wouldn’t simply concede because of one serious illness... yet he’s remained silent up until now, letting the situation spiral toward the point of no return. What exactly is he trying to do?”