Who Speaks of Honor?

The day of the duel arrived quickly, and even the location was ironic.

“Lornwood Hill...”

It was the very place where he and Valentin had gone for a walk and horse ride just days before their wedding.

Reynard stood at the foot of Lornwood Hill, feet firmly planted on the field below. Though it was now winter and the scenery was entirely different from that summer day, it was still a place filled with memories. He tied his black horse to a tree far from the duel site and began walking slowly.

By the time he reached the dueling ground, Reynard pulled out his pocket watch from his vest. The second hand ticked away steadily. As was customary for all gentlemen of Heston who engaged in duels of honor, he arrived 20 minutes early.

But Reynard was alone.

The 3rd Prince’s party had not yet arrived, and he had brought no witnesses or seconds of his own.

Reynard pocketed the watch and, as he had done countless times before, lifted his gaze toward the distant hill. He pulled out a cigar, though he had no intention of lighting it.

This place made him think of Valentin.

The memory of the beautiful face that had longed for freedom, gazing toward the eastern horizon, came to him as naturally as a vivid image imprinted in his mind. Since Valentin’s departure, Reynard had never returned to this place. He feared that the longing he had buried deep inside would surge uncontrollably and overwhelm him. Had he come here sooner, he might have thrown everything away and gone to find Valentin.

My love, Valentin, listen to me. Just as you said, everything was wrong from the beginning. We loved each other, but there was so much we didn’t understand about being together. It was my fault for dragging you into this. Forgive me. But I don’t think I can hold on anymore. Please, look at me, Valentin. Let’s forget everything and leave together. Just the two of us.

The words of desperate longing filled his mind, and if he allowed himself to relax even a little, he feared he might collapse and beg at Valentin’s feet.

All the meticulously crafted plans, the goals, the revenge, and the selfishness—he felt ready to throw them all away. His body, constantly wracked by the side effects of the forced bond, only fueled that desire.

But even if he did that, it would be nothing but a selfish wish.

He recalled something Valentin had once told him. It must have been around the time they visited Lornwood Hill, shortly before their wedding.

[Reynard, your love is like that of a beast’s leader. You lock your mate in a cave, bring back only the best prey, and think that’s the greatest love you can offer.]

Valentin had said those words lightly, with a faint, bitter smile. Reynard had been unsure whether it was a compliment, a criticism, or a joke, and when he furrowed his brow in confusion, Valentin had gently smoothed it out with a soft finger.

Now, he finally understood what Valentin meant.

That’s why he had sent Valentin away.

My love has found its place now. Valentin, the life you wanted is yours. My final act of love is to wish for your happiness, not for my own selfish desires. That’s why I gave it to you.

He had endured everything, all for Valentin’s happiness.

Now, all that remained was their broken relationship, their lost daughter, their shared pain, and the tarnished Denox name, trampled under the 3rd Prince’s feet.

"Given how things have turned out, this revenge will be completed, no matter what."

Reynard continued walking, surveying the terrain as he did. He stomped his boots on the ground, testing its firmness.

Though he had anticipated how things would unfold, it had all become too easy in recent times. The arrogance of the 3rd Prince, who thought the throne was within his grasp, combined with his growing desperation, made him an easy target. The “duel of honor,” the poisoning—everything was falling into place.

The Prince was not in his right mind anymore. The collapse of his business over the past six months and the public unrest had clearly taken their toll. He had been lauded his entire life, so the criticism from both commoners and nobles must have been unfamiliar. His first taste of failure had shattered his composure.

"I thought he’d be more careful about what he let into his body."

The fifth one had done an excellent job, and Clifton had taken the bait without a second thought. His impatience, the societal upheaval, and the crumbling of everything he’d built—all of it was orchestrated by Reynard. Clifton was being attacked from all sides and didn’t even realize he was playing right into Reynard’s hands.

It all began when Clifton met with Sabina Akal, the sixth, who led him to discover the “golden goose” of a new drug.

Sabina, the only female and omega among Reynard’s numbered confidants, was a botanist and an expert actress. She hadn’t needed to hide her true identity—her gender, her status as an omega, and her role as a scholar had all given her an air of harmlessness. Reynard had used that perception from the very beginning.

Clifton had been immediately captivated by the new drug Sabina introduced to him. He eagerly snatched up the suppliers and researchers Reynard had planted. The Denox family’s long history of research into Popinsa and New Popinsa had proven invaluable.

From there, everything had been easy. It had only taken time to build trust, but everything else had gone smoothly.

The Denox family had discovered and developed New Popinsa long ago but had kept it buried due to its severe side effects. While there were ingredients that could mitigate the risks, they were rare, and the chemical refinement process was complicated. It wasn’t worth the cost.

If Clifton had been a compassionate and wise man, concerned with the public good, he might have followed the same path as the Denox family.

But he had chosen the opposite.

Driven purely by profit, he used and discarded the poor.

He distributed the drug for free, under the guise of charity, to elevate his reputation. But when raw materials became scarce, he began distributing an inferior version of New Popinsa Tincture, without the necessary components.

It wasn’t long before the lower-class citizens began suffering from addiction and its aftereffects.

When the public grew outraged, Clifton tried to suppress the media and cover it up. He ignored the festering wound, covering it with a bandage as if that would make it go away. But the infection only worsened, spreading in the darkness.

Now, society was about to explode, unable to withstand the rot any longer.

"I suppose he blames me for everything."

The fifth, who had infiltrated Clifton’s inner circle along with the sixth, had played a key role. Handling all the dirty work for the Prince, he had quickly gained his trust. Eventually, he succeeded in getting Clifton addicted to drugs.

Reynard had specifically requested that the drug be tailored to affect only alphas. Clifton would experience the same degradation Valentin had endured, as would the unfortunate citizens he had harmed. Clifton likely had no idea he was suffering from his own actions.

The drugs were slowly introduced into his imported luxury alcohol and cigars.

"That’s why he fell for such an outdated trick as a ‘duel of honor.’"

Recently, Clifton’s judgment had been clouded, and the fifth’s whispers had led him to submit the challenge to a duel.

Marquis Valkres’s official protest had accused the Prince of dishonoring Reynard with lies, leading to the challenge. The Prince also claimed that Reynard’s partner had once insulted him with inflammatory art, but he had tolerated it out of mercy. Now, however, the Prince declared he could no longer allow his honor to be tarnished.

It was all laughable. This wretched game would end today.

Reynard looked toward the winter hills, now devoid of their summer greenery.

He couldn’t help but keep glancing in that direction as if his love, Valentin, might appear from over the horizon. He walked alone, lost in thought.

He had come alone because of the ridiculous terms of the duel that Clifton had set.

[It’s clearly a trap!]

[When has there ever been a duel with just the two principals involved?]

[This is a blatant setup—no one would agree to a duel without seconds or witnesses!]

[There’s no way a snake like him would come alone!]

[What kind of duel has no seconds or witnesses?]

Felix had been flipping through the duel challenge, convinced there was hidden text somewhere detailing even more outdated rules, like fighting with small swords or other gentleman’s weapons. Remembering Felix’s absurd behavior—holding the document up to candlelight and sunlight—Reynard couldn’t help but chuckle.

But despite their protests, he had come here alone.

Clifton’s typical arrogance had been clear in the way he issued the duel, simply notifying Reynard of the time and place without any attempt to negotiate. Reynard’s reaction had been the opposite of his companions’. He remained expressionless, unmoved.

He made no special preparations, simply unfolding a detailed map and studying it. That was all.

Finally, Reynard’s steps brought him to the dueling ground.

He stood under a twisted pair of red maple trees.

The surrounding area was a flat plain, dotted with thick bushes here and there. It was clear what Clifton had planned, and Reynard couldn’t help but smirk. It was a cowardly, petty setup, perfect for a small-minded man like Clifton. The terrain was ideal for enemies to hide and ambush.

As he raised his head, he saw

 two figures approaching in the distance, walking toward him with shameless confidence.

It was the 3rd Prince and his aide.