Upon hearing my words, Albert bit his teeth tightly and trembled with anger.

    His face had turned as red as a heated chunk of metal, indicating he was seriously upset.

    It’s only natural for anyone to react that way.

    What person in this world could hear “You are in that position because of all my efforts” from a subordinate, or even a younger brother, and laugh it off?

    “You are denying the authority and existence of the one above you.”

    That’s a terrible, no, an incredibly harsh statement.

    “Fabio! Have you truly gone insane?!”

    The one acting crazy isn’t me; it’s you.

    You, as a brother, are not only allowing your younger brother to be treated poorly but are also complicit in it.@@@@

    “If I let this slide here, Albert will see me as a joke for the rest of his life.”

    Maybe in the past, but I have nothing to bow down to him for now, apart from his title.

    When considering my relationships with the Emperor, dukes, and the Supreme Court, my abilities, potential for future growth, military career, reputation, and more,

    when weighing all these factors, it’s fair to say I stand above Albert.

    Knowing this, Duke Visconti proposed to grant me the title of Baron based on my accomplishment of getting the Deus Knights to defect to my side.

    “Let’s speak frankly, Baron. Do you really think you achieved your current position solely through your abilities?”

    I have directly assisted him, and I’ve also provided a ton of indirect benefits.

    If I were to detail each and every one, it would be quite a chore...

    But what can I do? If I don’t calmly point them out one by one, he’ll whine that he doesn’t know.

    “First of all, becoming Baron Medici isn’t due to me. You’re the eldest son of the Medici family, so you succeeded to your current position through the line of succession.”

    Upon hearing this, Albert’s brow furrowed deeply.

    When evaluating the capabilities of the person in front of me coldly,

    he isn’t as glaringly competent as I am, but considering his age, he’s relatively capable among nobles.

    Usually, nobles receive thorough education and inherit titles at around 40, but he’s handling duties at the same level as men in their 40s in his mid-20s.

    “It’s like a high school student keeping up with a master’s program.”

    However, while other nobles see me as someone practically implementing a general’s shortcuts, he doesn’t stand a chance.

    Still, the only reason he could inherit the title of Baron Medici was that he was born before me; that’s all.

    “Let’s examine other factors one by one. Although the Medici family isn’t particularly thriving compared to other baronies, is it a family with enough power to take in a countess from the Farnese family as a legitimate wife?”

    It’s certainly a lighter matter to send down a daughter compared to marrying off a son (successor).

    Thus, even without my involvement, it might have been possible for him to accept the daughter of the count, who was receiving cold treatment.

    “The problem is that the Farnese family is a legitimate powerhouse.”

    Moreover, there was only one daughter of the legitimate wife in the Farnese family, making her value significantly higher than daughters from other noble families.

    Honestly, my father wouldn’t have even dreamed of such a marriage proposal.

    After being struck with the facts, Albert couldn’t muster a rebuttal.

    “His Excellency Count Farnese openly stated at the wedding that he wanted to get closer to me in front of everyone. This alone shows that while the count didn’t solely proceed with the marriage based on me, it’s clear to anyone that I held considerable weight in the decision.”

    At those words, cold sweat trickled down Albert’s forehead.

    “In just two years, I’ve grown this much. But what have you done for the Medici family over the past two years? Surely you don’t think your duty is just to sit and warm the chair?”

    I found a great saying in the Bible.

    “‘You must either be hot or cold; those who are lukewarm will be spewed out of my mouth.’”

    This is a skill needed for navigating life.

    If you’re going to support someone, do so with all your guts; if you’re going to oppose them, treat them as if you’re ready to cut them with a knife.

    “I don’t particularly intend to oppose Albert.”

    Right now, it’s about showing how formidable I am to reduce the chances of conflict.

    There’s a saying that civilized people are less courteous than barbarians because they don’t get their heads split open for being discourteous.

    This applies well even in international relations.

    “If you possess nuclear weapons, even a superpower won’t dare to strike recklessly.”

    If Albert realizes that I’m no longer a being he can treat carelessly, he’ll start to behave.

    I’m not even expecting reconciliation.

    “I told you to know yourself. I hope you understand your current position. If possible, I hope we can get along well from now on.”

    With that, I turned my back.

    After Fabio left, Albert clenched his fist so tightly that it began to bleed.

    It wasn’t just anger that he had been told such things by his younger brother, but also...

    “... Why can’t my reason refute his words? What the hell is this?!”

    Objectively speaking, that’s true.

    What if he were to die?

    Fabio would either succeed him or some other relative would take over.

    If his father were to return, they would quickly fill the void.

    But could anyone truly replace Fabio?

    “No one can replace that brat.”

    Even more, that irreplaceable brat is growing at an astonishing pace.

    “... What if that brat aims to oust me?”

    Fabio didn’t explicitly say it.

    However, Albert’s intellect, which was somewhat superior among nobles, immediately provided the answer.

    The Duke Visconti and the Emperor would easily “retire” him.

    As this thought crossed his mind, Albert’s body began to tremble.

    He shivered like someone chased out into the winter naked, but it wasn’t due to the cold.

    It was purely from the fear and pressure of facing Fabio in front of him.

    “... That’s a monster.”

    However, his mind—clouded by jealousy and envy—could not provide the best answer.

    At this moment, Fabio was calculating what he could appropriately take from the Spice Guild.