Duke, You're a Bit Stiff (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 12

“There is none.”

“Are you certain there isn’t?”

Heidegger asked once again.

“Yes.”

In truth, Leo had planned that if he ever got the chance to meet Heidegger, he would ask to accompany him onto the battlefield.

He believed that with Heidegger’s strength, they could wipe out the enemy entirely—and besides, his father would surely agree without much difficulty.

But now, Leo knew better than anyone else: with his current strength, he simply wasn’t ready to make a meaningful contribution in war.

[“What could that frail body possibly do? Tsk, tsk.”] [“You’re not thinking of recklessly charging into battle, are you?”] [“You’d probably be the first to die if you kept showing off up front.”]

Ever since Artia had thoroughly humiliated him, Leo had lost the courage to utter those words.

He cried—bitter, furious tears—right there in front of everyone: the knights and the servants.

He’d been taught that a man only weeps three times in his life:

once at birth, once in defeat. Now, only one tear remained.

The memory of that day resurfaced, and Leo ground his teeth together so hard he could taste blood in his mouth.

That woman—she who’d shattered his dreams and hopes—filled him with seething hatred.

And to make matters worse, she was brought in from a family he already considered his sworn enemy.

Leo clenched his fist, glaring toward the part of the estate where Artia resided.

He barely restrained himself from hurling a stone right then and there to shatter every single windowpane.

“Only one tear left—my final one. Sorry, but instead of me shedding it, it’s your turn to weep.”

Even if this long-awaited chance to march to war alongside his father was delayed, Leo vowed to repay her—tenfold—for the humiliation she’d inflicted upon him.

It was a cold northern night, the wind already carrying a biting chill.

Dawn broke over the ducal estate.

Heidegger was debating whether to depart at sunrise or stay one more day.

Leaving immediately felt like too short a visit, yet staying longer made him worry he might burden his sons.

Just then,

a sudden knock sounded, and a familiar face appeared—

Artia, her silver hair neatly tied back, her eyes bright and lively.

She was dressed comfortably yet practically, as if ready to head out somewhere.

“Good morning, Father! Did you sleep well? Was the bedding comfortable?”

Heidegger was slightly startled by Artia’s unexpected visit.

“I slept deeply.”

“Oh really? You slept wonderfully, Father. I wonder how you’d manage if you slept like that in enemy territory.”

“Hmmph.”

Heidegger cleared his throat awkwardly.

He recalled falling asleep the previous night after receiving a massage—

something utterly unlike him, as he never slept when others were present.

Bright sunlight poured through the large window of the bedroom,

mingling with the pure white snow outside to create a breathtaking scene.

“The weather is absolutely lovely.”

“Hmm…”

“After all, nothing beats morning exercise on an empty stomach.”

Artia pulled the curtains fully open, airing out the room.

Fresh, crisp wind rushed in, mixing with the warm air inside.

“How about some morning exercise?”

“What?”

“Well, Heuk Gu seems cooped up and restless. I thought I’d take him for a walk—maybe even hike a nearby mountain.”

“You intend to go hiking with Cerberus?”

Heidegger repeated incredulously.

“Yes! Don’t worry—I’ve tamed him well. As long as you don’t provoke him, he’s perfectly harmless.”

“Do you enjoy physical activity?”

“Heuk Gu? Of course—he’s a wild creature by nature, after all.”

“I meant you.”

“Oh! Me?”

Artia raised an eyebrow.

“Of course! My body’s itching to move. And your muscles, Father—they’re practically screaming for exercise!”

Heidegger looked at her with concern.

She appeared so frail—so delicate that even a few steps might exhaust her.

She looked as if she’d crumble at the slightest pressure,

or collapse instantly from a single arrow’s strike.

As if sensing his thoughts, Artia gave him a cheeky smile.

“Oh, come on! You saw it yourself—I’m far tougher than most men, despite how I look.”

Heidegger stared at her intently.

Though the ducal estate had once belonged to him, years had passed since he’d handed it over to his son—

and the land itself had likely changed in his absence.

After a moment’s thought, Heidegger spoke.

“Very well. But my personal knights should come with us. In case of any unforeseen incidents.”

“Alright, sounds good!”

Meanwhile, Cassus, who’d been awake since dawn, felt his mind tangled in confusion—

all because of what Artia had said the day before.

[“You only have two sons, and now that you’re back home after so long… one won’t even leave his room, and the other…”] [“Don’t you feel even a little sorry for your father?”]

Who did she think she was, speaking like that?

“How could she possibly understand after knowing him for such a short time?”

No one knew Heidegger better than Cassus—he’d known him his whole life.

Yet Artia spoke as if she could read his father’s heart, and that irritated him deeply.

She’d barely exchanged a few words with him!

Leaning back on the couch in his office, Cassus ran a hand through his hair.

‘Artia Harad.’

There wasn’t a single thing about her he liked.

When had she gone from quietly staying shut in her room to suddenly acting like the Duchess?

He didn’t know what trickery she’d used to tame Cerberus,

but Cassus had already decided to get rid of the beast once Heidegger left.

He’d also need to keep a close watch on her.

She was clearly a spy sent by House Harad.

He’d sooner trust a roadside stone than that woman.

He still remembered the look on Heidegger’s face when she tamed Cerberus—

a look of surprise and wonder he’d never shown Cassus before.

That alone made him even more resentful.

“What on earth is she scheming?”

Knock knock.

A servant stood at the door of the office.

“Your Grace.”

“If it’s not urgent, report to me later.”

Cassus didn’t look up from his documents, his brow furrowed.

“The former Duke asked me to inform you…”

Cassus finally lifted his eyes from the papers in his hand.

“What is it?”

“He said he’s going hiking.”

“What?”

“He wants to climb a nearby mountain and asked if you’d join him.”

“My father? Hiking? Suddenly?”

Cassus raised his eyebrows in disbelief. This was utterly unexpected.

.

.

.

“Good morning, pretty girl! Did you sleep well?”

“Woof!”

Cerberus, locked inside the iron cage, barked happily at the sight of Artia.

His fierce crimson eyes—usually terrifying to others—turned gentle as a puppy’s when looking at her,

even wagging his tail.

He looked every bit an ordinary dog.

Who would believe this creature was the high-class magical beast Cerberus?

Artia stepped nonchalantly into the cage.

“You’ve been good and quiet, haven’t you? Good boy~”

She scratched Heuk Gu under his chin, praising him.

His fur was incredibly soft. Overnight, the pup had grown astonishingly fast.

‘He’s growing like bamboo—he’ll outgrow this cage soon.’

The cage itself was massive—so large it barely qualified as “confinement”—

yet seeing how rapidly Heuk Gu was growing, Artia suspected even this enormous cage wouldn’t hold him for long.

Starting from his jawline, she began a gentle skull massage.

She wanted to calm him—the unfamiliar surroundings likely made him anxious.

His injured leg had improved significantly.

“Heuk Gu, is your leg okay? Can you move it?”

“Huff… huff… huff…”

Artia carefully stroked his leg, examining its condition.

Though still young, Cerberus was an energetic magical beast—walking a little would speed up his recovery.

“Heuk Gu, shall we go for a walk?”

“?”

“Actually, scratch that—shall we climb a mountain range instead?”

The pup tilted his head, clearly puzzled.

When Artia paused the massage, Heuk Gu placed his front paw on her knee, urging her to continue.

“Want more? I’ll give you another one after we come back from outside.”

When Artia mimed running, Heuk Gu finally understood and barked excitedly, “Woof!”

Cerberus was an exceptionally intelligent creature—

capable of reading human expressions and never forgetting those who wronged him, even from infancy.

“Shall we go? Are you ready?”

“Woof!”

As Artia led Heuk Gu out of the cage, everyone in the ducal estate instinctively stepped back.

“Whoa…”

“Oh my goodness…”

“What on earth is the mistress planning to do?”

Some servants retreated nervously, fear plain on their faces.

Just then, Heidegger approached and gently stroked Heuk Gu’s head.

“Good boy.”

His deep, resonant voice echoed warmly.

Even Heidegger himself seemed surprised he could stroke Cerberus barehanded like this.

“Try calling his name, Father—you’ll feel closer to him.”

“Hmm…”

When Artia touched him, Heuk Gu wagged his tail happily, but now he seemed indifferent under Heidegger’s hand.

Heidegger decided to try calling his name.

“Heuk Gu.”

“No, not so stiffly.”

“Heuk Gu-ya.”

“You sound scary, Father.”

“…Heuk Gu-ya?”

“You’re not calling him just to kill him, are you?”

“Hmmph. I’ll go practice.”

Heidegger thought he’d sounded gentle enough, but apparently not—judging by everyone else’s reactions.

Artia fought hard to suppress a laugh.

The sun climbed higher in the sky.

Feathery clouds and pristine snow created a stunning vista.

“Will it be very cold up the mountain?”

“Likely much colder than here.”

“Oh? I’ve dressed for this—should be fine.”

Artia was fully prepared for the cold weather.

Even though it was a nearby mountain, this was the North—

and its biting chill could easily wreak havoc on a frail body.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright? You don’t have to go if you’ve changed your mind.”

“Oh, absolutely! Days like this call for hiking!”

Artia struck a running pose, bouncing eagerly in place.

Seeing her, Heuk Gu wagged his tail excitedly.

Just then, two enormous shadows fell over the estate.

Heuk Gu began barking.

“Grrr! Woof!”

The figures belonged to Cassus and his royal guard, Zen.

“Your Grace…”

Cassus stared dumbfounded at Artia and Heidegger standing beside Cerberus.

“I heard you wanted to go hiking.”

He studied Heidegger’s face, needing confirmation this was real.

“Yes. It wouldn’t hurt to climb one last time after so long.”

“What business do you have on the mountain?”

“This one—he seems uncomfortable cooped up in that iron cage. I thought I’d let him get some fresh air.”

Heidegger’s gaze rested on Cerberus.

That damned Cerberus.

Cassus looked at the beast with a blank expression.

Its crimson eyes held the sharp intensity unique to high-class magical beasts.

It was still a pup—but a magical beast nonetheless.

This whole situation rubbed Cassus the wrong way.

“Will you come with us?”

Heidegger asked Cassus.

Cassus felt awkward.

He was a grown man—going hiking with his father?

They’d never done such a thing even when he was a child.

He almost laughed out of sheer embarrassment.

“I’m…”