Anecdote: The Life of the Marquis of Darkness

Volf had always been at the top of his class at the academy. He was the heir to the distinguished Barbosse marquis house, and was blessed with hazel hair and eyes and well-defined facial features. He also excelled at talking, knew his way around high society, and had already been promised a position in the castle after graduation. He was in many ways the perfect noble.

One day not long after his graduation, as he was walking down a corridor of the academy, he heard a voice coming through an open window.

“Ivan, let me borrow you for a bit!”

Volf stopped and turned his gaze outside, and a man with burning red hair came into view.

That’s...

It was the oldest son of the Aldis house who was currently studying to be a knight. He was one year younger than Volf. Volf was aware of him, and not just because they were both heirs to marquis houses—the man had a tendency to draw attention to himself.

For instance, right after advancing to secondary school, he had beaten some older students who had come to pick a fight with him during sword practice. He had even defeated a large monster during extracurricular activities. During the summer break, he had lied about his age and joined a mercenary guild, taking on requests along with the other mercenaries, and so on. He was a notorious problem child.

Even so, perhaps because he hailed from a famous house of knights, few could match him with the sword; he was also a skilled tactician and quite sociable, causing many a future knight candidate to look up to him. His red hair and eyes gave him a fierce appearance when coupled with his sturdy physique, and given his promising future, he was also popular among the girls. Many suggested that he would one day be a general or perhaps even the captain of the royal guard.

The man was speaking to Ivan, the oldest son of the Barthold house. While his house only had the title of count, it had produced a number of royal guards.

“Roland, what about our assignment?”

“Come on, it’ll be fine!”

Roland placed his arm around the suspicious Ivan’s shoulder and forcibly pulled him closer. He then dragged Ivan along in the direction of the academy’s training grounds. Ivan was the only worthy opponent that Roland had left at the academy.

“Hey, Roland, let me in on that!”

“Me too!”

“Mr. Aldis, would you mind teaching me too?”

A number of students from the knight’s curriculum had taken notice of them and gathered around. Roland responded with a wide grin.

“Sure! As long as you help me out with the assignment afterward!”

“Don’t tell me you’re expecting me to help you too?” Ivan replied with a frown.

Roland took no notice of him as he disappeared into a corridor together with the other students.

“Carefree, aren’t we?” an annoyed Volf muttered as he saw them disappear from the other side of the window.

One year had passed since Volf’s graduation from the academy. After spending the day working at the castle, he had returned home, where he was summoned by his father. As soon as Volf stepped into his father’s study, an intense smell of alcohol stung his nose. He grimaced.

“Volf!”

In the same moment that he heard his father roar, Volf felt a sharp pain in his forehead. From his now wet face, an even stronger smell of alcohol, and the empty cup rolling on the carpet below, he realized that his father must have thrown his glass of liquor at him.

Volf silently wiped the liquor off his face with his sleeve, as his father, seemingly upset at his son’s behavior, raised his voice.

“I’m told that Aldis kid became the crown prince’s knight of service! How long are you planning on staying an underling?! Prove yourself worthy of the Barbosse name!”

Volf was reminded of what he had heard about Roland at the castle. Roland Aldis had managed the spectacular feat of defeating the enemy supreme commander in his very first battle, which had caught the crown prince’s eye; as a result, he had been named his knight of service.

A knight of service served an aristocrat directly. As the knight of service to a crown prince, his status was, if perhaps not on par with a general, at the very least equal to or above that of a royal guard. As a new knight who had only just graduated from the academy, his achievement in battle, along with the unexpected appointment to serve the competent crown prince, meant that his name was now on the lips of everyone in the capital. With his burning red hair, Roland had made a name for himself as the “Blazing Knight.”

Volf concluded that his father was upset after hearing that rumor, and did his best to stop himself from letting out a sigh. If his father had heard him sigh like that, the bottle would have come flying next.

His father viewed the head of the Aldis family as his rival for a simple reason: the noble woman he had fallen for and grown fixated on had been in love with the Aldis head. When he had attempted to propose to her, she had turned him down and instead married into the Aldis house. That had hurt his pride, and from that point on he’d grown hostile toward the Aldis family and developed a habit of comparing their sons.

Volf was a civil official, while Roland was a military one. As far as Volf was concerned, the comparison was pointless. Volf turned a gaze of contempt toward his foolish father. His father, however, did not notice, as he gulped down his liquor straight from the bottle.

“Our house is one of the most prestigious and honorable in the kingdom. We can’t fall behind an unrefined family that doesn’t even have its own territory... Why must all of you make me look bad...?” Volf’s father mumbled to himself, before chasing Volf out of his study—despite having summoned him there in the first place.

The reason you look bad is because you’re incompetent, Volf thought to himself after closing the door to the room.

His father possessed no particular skill and his talents were below average, yet he was prideful and haughty. He had nothing but his title, and other nobles would make fun of him behind his back—not that he himself noticed.

If only he could have recognized his own incompetence and stayed put, things might still have turned out for the better. Instead, he would spend his time gambling and trying his hand at new enterprises only to fail, wasting large quantities of money—and the job of making up for the lost money would always fall on his son. Volf’s pay always went toward making up for his father’s wasteful spending.

The management of the Barbosse house’s territory, which had been forced on Volf when he was still in the academy, was also going poorly. Volf was the only reason that they had managed to come this far without having to take out loans. His father would not do his job, yet refused to give up his seat as the head of the house, as he made wild accusations and continued to waste money in an attempt to flaunt his power. What could you call that if not incompetence?

Volf could feel dark emotions boiling up inside him.

“Master Volf...”

Volf returned to his senses at the sound of someone hesitantly calling his name. He turned around to find the family butler offering him a towel. Volf accepted the towel as he let out a deep sigh.

“I haven’t laid eyes on that document.”

“What?”

Volf couldn’t help but reply in astonishment at the words of his superior. He had been informed that the document he had submitted in time for the deadline had not made it to the relevant department.

“But I’m certain that I submitted it yesterday...”

“Pardon? Are you trying to imply that I lost it?”

The official furrowed his brow as he banged his fist on his desk. Volf clucked his tongue internally at the sight of his superior’s childish tantrum as he uttered words of apology.

Volf had never gotten along with this superior. The man was just like his father—unable to recognize his own incompetence while throwing his weight around. After Volf had pointed out a few of his mistakes, the superior had become hostile toward him.

“I was wrong to expect anything from a failed marquis house.”

The Barbosse house was by now a marquis house in name only. Volf’s superior was a count, but his house was well-off, and he took any opportunity to act condescending toward Volf. All he could do was to quietly endure.

“Oh, you there.” The superior summoned a colleague of Volf’s who was just passing by.

This colleague was an official who, despite being two years Volf’s senior, had joined the department at the same time as Volf as a result of restructuring.

“The paperwork you submitted before was excellent,” the superior continued.

“Thank you very much!”

Volf was sickened by the farce that was playing out in front of him. His superior had a habit of trying to make Volf look worse by complimenting someone else. He was also astonished that his colleague just accepted the compliment so readily.

Being used to this treatment, Volf averted his eyes in an attempt to ignore it, when the document his colleague had submitted came into view. He widened his eyes at the sight of its contents.

“This document...”

“Is there an issue, Barbosse junior? I’ll have you know he submitted this document to make up for your mistake,” the superior said with a sneer.

Volf clenched his fist tight. He had to, or he would have ended up punching the man right in the face. The document that he had worked so hard on, only to be told that his superior had never received it, was now right in front of him—signed with his colleague’s name. Similar things had happened a number of times before, but could it be...

Volf furrowed his brow as he glared at his superior. His superior raised his eyebrows at the sight.

“And just what is that look supposed to mean? Don’t you take your work seriously?! I swear, these failed nobles...” the superior said as he loudly banged his fist into his desk. “Very well, I’ll just have him handle the rest of the paperwork! You can go work on something else! You have until tomorrow!”

The superior yelled while waving as if shooing away a dog, and Volf silently lowered his gaze and turned his back on him. Behind him, his superior was talking in a voice intentionally loud enough for Volf to hear.

“Oh, by the way, would you thank your father for me? The wine he gave me the other day was excellent.”

Volf then realized exactly what was going on. The superior had received a bribe from his colleague’s father, and given his colleague credit for Volf’s work in order to make him look better. He’d mentioned wine, but in reality it had probably been money. Volf thought back and remembered how, when he had first joined the department, the superior had said things alluding to wanting bribes, but Volf had ignored him since he was in no position to pay such a thing. It was not just pointing out his mistakes, but also refusing to bribe him that had gotten Volf on his superior’s bad side.

And they call this the backbone of the kingdom? Laughable.

Gracis was the largest and most powerful country on the continent of Grandinal. He hadn’t noticed as a student, but after taking up work in the castle, he had been made aware just how rotten it was to its very core. The current king was timid and at the mercy of the nobles. The nobility was divided into a number of factions, all vying for power and lusting for wealth. Subordinates tried to curry favor with their superiors, offering bribes to ensure their own safety. The talented were hampered by the incompetent, while the cunning exploited the weak.

Boiling with rage, Volf exited the room. His anger was directed at not just his superior. Volf was driven by an ambition to improve the country, and he believed that he had the talent to do so. Even as it was being ruined by his father, he had taken pride in hailing from one of the country’s most prestigious marquis houses.

But reality was different. His father had dragged the Barbosse name through the mud, and the government was more interested in money and factionalism than talent. Volf was so angry at the distance between reality and his ideals that he felt he might go mad.

As he proceeded down a passageway, Volf noticed someone coming the other way. When he realized who the person was, he quickly stepped to the side and lowered his head.

The person in question was the crown prince. The members of the royal family of Gracis all possessed extraordinary beauty, and the crown prince was no exception. As he walked gallantly down the passageway, an aide chased after him.

“Your Highness, where are you going?!”

“I will return soon. Follow me, Ro,” the prince replied curtly while instructing his knight of service.

Volf kept his head turned down as he looked up to see Roland walk off with the crown prince, an exasperated look on his face.

Why?

Why did they receive such different treatment, despite both being from marquis houses? Why was Roland recognized by the crown prince and guaranteed his status in society, while Volf was kept down by his superiors and colleagues?

What separates us? Why am I treated so unfairly? What did I ever do?!

Volf was overcome with dark emotions. These emotions had piled up over the course of many years, wearing down Volf’s soul. It was as if a bottomless hole had opened up in his heart. Volf had tried to ignore the growing void. He mustn’t come close to it. He mustn’t look into it. He mustn’t fall into it.

But the hole already swallowed him up.

Oh, I see... Volf came to a realization. If I don’t have power, I can simply take it.

Just like the people who had kept him down. He had the skills to do it.

This was the moment that he took a wrong turn in life and fell into darkness.

As the sky burned a twilight red, Volf approached his superior, who was preparing to leave for the day. The room was empty except for the two of them.

“Section chief, I have something to discuss...”

“What is it now? Can’t you tell that I’m busy? I swear—”

“Are you sure you should be speaking that way to me?” Volf interrupted the superior before he could complain about Volf’s status as he usually did, throwing a document in front of him. “I came across this budget request you processed, and certain figures here don’t seem to add up.”

“Wh-Who gave you permission to go over past applications?!”

“I was going over the archive for my own reference when I happened to notice this. Say, you wouldn’t happen to know what happened to the missing money?” Volf said, glaring down at the other man. He was taller than him, adding to the intimidation.

His superior’s haughtiness withdrew at his subordinate’s sudden change of demeanor—normally, Volf would only frown quietly. The superior grew paler and nervously looked around the room. Volf had him right where he wanted him.

“I-I have no idea what you’re—”

“Oh, yes, I heard you managed to repay your debt.”

The superior twitched at Volf’s statement.

Volf had closely investigated his superior. The man had been deep in debt from supporting the women of the red-light district, and he’d borrowed money from crooked lenders who forced him to accept outrageous interest rates and threatened him to make him repay the debt. He was just like Volf’s father—an incompetent person who only cared about outward appearances. No, perhaps he was better than his father; he was at least cunning enough to be able to exploit others and guarantee his own status.

To Volf, however, there was not much difference between the two. They were both incompetent and unnecessary. However, his superior still had his uses.

“Just what do you want?”

“Oh, you don’t need to be so accusatory. All I want is to be fairly judged,” Volf said as he raised the corners of his mouth into a smile—though his eyes remained just as cold. “Ah, yes, my father is rather fond of drinking. I believe you are too, section chief?”

Starting the following day, the superior’s treatment of Volf changed radically. He gave him preferential treatment and even did his best to butter him up. Volf’s colleagues were surprised at the sudden change and shot Volf questioning glances, but he ignored them.

That was only the start of it. Volf then went on to seize control of the nobility. He used every trick in his book—threatening the incompetent, ensnaring the competent, causing factions to fight among themselves, and eliminating those who opposed him. Before long, he had clawed his way up the ranks and landed at a post where he oversaw a large number of people despite his young age. By then he already had minions who would do everything they could to try to curry his favor, without Volf even having to say anything.

Volf continued to amass power. At some point his father started acting as though everything Volf had achieved belonged to him, but Volf eliminated him and became the head of the Barbosse house. He married the daughter of a noble family that was useful to him, but as one might expect from a noble woman, she was self-important and vain. She, too, got it into her head that Volf’s power belonged to her, and she began to behave arrogantly toward those around her. Volf quickly became fed up with her, but divorcing her would have looked bad, and he didn’t have much interest in her to begin with. As soon she’d borne him a son, he ignored her and let her do as she pleased. He could easily get any woman he wanted anyway.

Time passed, and Volf became the leader of the most powerful faction in the castle. He would be in contact with other countries and use any information he could get to manipulate that country in his own favor. Naturally, unlike those other incompetent nobles, Volf would never do something as foolish as letting his misdeeds actually come to light. Even if one of his crimes was unearthed, he would simply frame one of his pawns instead. Burying the matter again was also trivial. With another five years or so, Volf was convinced he could make the country entirely his own.

Then, suddenly, the king fell ill, and it was decided that the crown prince would ascend to the throne in his stead. As soon as the new king was crowned, he set out to reform the government. That meant tearing down everything that Volf had built up over the years.

The nobles and officials rebelled as their profits were taken from them; meanwhile, the people praised the king’s efforts, dubbing him the Wise King.

The more reckless nobles attempted to assassinate the king outright, but Roland, who had been promoted from Blazing Knight to Blazing General, would stop them in their tracks and force them to face the wrath of the law. As a result, the king was able to tighten his grip on the nobility, much to Volf’s dismay.

“What does the king take us for?!”

“We have supported this country for generations! We don’t deserve this treatment!”

“Sir Barbosse, at this rate...”

The nobles of Volf’s faction talked over each other as they all crowded into one room. So far Volf had remained safe, but it was only a matter of time. Part of his faction had already been arrested and were currently awaiting their sentences. If any of them were to mention Volf, he would not get away unscathed.

If anyone stands in my way, I can simply eliminate them.

He’d even eliminated his own father. Cutting down a royal was nothing.

However, dealing with royalty would prove somewhat difficult. He would need to be far more careful than he had been so far. He would also need to make plans for what to do afterward.

It seems this country will be mine even sooner than I expected.

Amidst the people of his faction quivering with rage and fear, Volf silently grinned to himself.

Volf was walking down a corridor. He had just received a report that the king had passed away from a mysterious illness. He now had to start preparing for the king’s funeral, the coronation of the new king, and various other matters.

In addition, the new king was the sole survivor of the royal family—a child a mere ten years of age. He would not be able to actually govern the country. Thus, in place of the young king, Volf had been placed in charge of the country as regent. Everything had gone according to plan.

Suddenly, a man appeared to block Volf’s way.

“Barbosse... How dare you...”

“Are you sure a mere general should be speaking that way to the regent of the country, General Aldis?” Volf spoke with a stern expression as he fought his urge to smile. “I’m about to become very busy. Move out of the way.”

As Volf attempted to start walking again, Roland held out his hand to block the way. His other hand rested on the hilt of his sword.

“What exactly are you planning on doing to this country?” Roland’s voice was strained and filled with spite. Any normal person would have started trembling in fear. Volf, however, remained unfazed.

“For the late king’s sake, I will simply work my fingers to the bone as I devote myself to the good of his country.”

“Devote yourself, eh... How absolutely shameless,” Roland spat.

“What about you, then? What will you do, General Aldis?” Volf asked him in return.

Roland was one of his most valuable pawns. His skill with the sword and as a tactician would prove important going forward. Volf would prefer not to have to get rid of him yet if possible. Roland paused for a moment before answering.

“As my liege wishes, I will protect this country,” Roland said, before turning around. Volf said nothing as Roland walked away.

“A knight who follows his orders even after his master is dead... How pitiful and comical,” Volf muttered after Roland had disappeared.

Volf became regent, and once the king came of age he became his minister, continuing to rule the country from the shadows. There was no one left who could defy him—he had already eliminated everyone or relegated them to somewhere far away from the capital. The king tried to resist him at first, but by making an example of his daughter and taking his wife and crown prince as hostages, Volf quickly forced him to obey his every command.

Volf’s wife, whom he had ignored until now, went mad from jealousy and tried to fake her own suicide; she actually did end up dying, however, but Volf made it seem as though she died from illness. For his second wife he took a young, quiet woman from a powerful noble house. She was always cowering in fear, but that was still preferable to his previous wife’s constant shouting.

Volf had obtained all the power he wanted, and even the very country itself. Yet for some reason he was still not satisfied.

Suddenly, he heard someone singing. It was a woman’s voice—a handmaiden perhaps? Normally Volf would have ignored the voice, but for some reason he was drawn to it. He began to search for its source.

The handmaid in question was busy cleaning a window. She was wearing a plain handmaiden’s outfit, consisting of a black dress long enough to hide her ankles and a white apron. Her long golden hair was tied back, swaying as she moved back and forth, shining in the sunlight. Anywhere else it would have been nothing out of the ordinary. But in the solemn, oppressive castle, it was a bizarre sight.

Volf approached the handmaiden as if drawn in unconsciously. The woman failed to notice Volf as she continued polishing the window while humming an off-key tune. Once she had finished wiping the window, she turned around and let out a shrill scream upon seeing Volf right behind her, jumping back in surprise. She reminded Volf of a small rabbit.

“I’m sorry!” The handmaiden frantically apologized. As she did, Volf realized that he recognized her face.

“You’re...”

“Oh dear, I guess you found me out,” the woman said as she looked up and gave Volf an innocent smile like that of a mischievous child who doesn’t regret their latest antics even after getting caught.

She was the woman that the king had fallen in love with at first sight—his favorite queen.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m cleaning!” the queen replied confidently, and Volf could feel a headache coming on at that. He couldn’t fathom what the king’s queen, who was supposed to be in the royal quarters, was doing in a place like this cleaning.

“You will get in the way of the other workers. Please go back to the royal quarters.”

Volf did his best to speak as logically and carefully as possible. The queen, however, simply gave him a perplexed look.

“But I’m just cleaning. I’m not doing anything bad.”

“Please go back,” Volf responded with an annoyed expression, shaking his head once before turning around to leave, as he had a feeling that he would be unable to keep his usual collected demeanor around her for some reason.

“Volf Barbosse,” the queen called out to Volf’s back using his full name.

Volf turned around to find that the queen’s innocent smile had been replaced by an expression that could be interpreted as anger, sadness, or even a complete void of emotion.

“Why do you devalue yourself like that?”

Volf was left stunned at the queen’s question. It was the first time he had ever been accused of devaluing himself. In fact, as he now controlled the entire country, no one would even dare say something like that to his face.

“What are you...?” Volf was unable to come up with an answer on the spot, so the queen continued speaking.

“You’re so talented, so why do you only do things that serve to make others unhappy? What do you want?”

“Unhappy? What I want?”

Hearing Volf’s response, the queen gave him an expression of pity.

“You don’t even know what you truly want, do you? You poor man,” the queen spoke sadly.

The queen then picked up the bucket that she had placed on the floor.

“I’ll be going back now. If I don’t, Meria will start crying.”

As she started walking, this time Volf posed a question to her instead.

“Are you happy?”

“Yes, I am,” the queen replied without hesitation. “I have Sol by my side. He is my sweet, gentle king, who always prays for the happiness of others.”

The queen turned around and gave him a smile as radiant as the sun.

The king’s favorite queen, nicknamed the Sunshine of the Royal Quarters, gave birth to a prince before failing to recover after the delivery and passing away. Volf was in his office when he received word of this. He gave the official an order to arrange her funeral. Once the official had left, leaving Volf alone in the room, the late queen’s smile appeared vividly in Volf’s mind.

“Happy, huh...”

The late queen had once asked him a question about that, and he had asked her the same thing in return. For some reason, her question still remained in the back of his mind.

He had obtained wealth, power, fame, and even the very country itself. Yet his heart was still not fulfilled. The empty hole inside him continued to eat away at him even now.

“Are you still happy now?” he asked the queen who had already departed for the Garden Above.

Alongside the Hero of Light, Herscherik Gracis, the tales also speak of the Marquis of Darkness, Volf Barbosse. He controlled Gracis Kingdom from the shadows for many years. His influence extended across the entire kingdom and even into other countries on the continent. He was a selfish and callous man who would harm anyone in his way—the royal family, commoners, young and old—if he stood to gain from it. At the same time, however, it is said that he also possessed impressive political prowess.

In his final years, Herscherik spoke of him as such: “If he had not taken a wrong turn in life, I would not have been dubbed a hero, and the kingdom would have been even more prosperous than it is now.”

The Life of the Marquis of Darkness — Fin.