Chapter 85

Chapter 85

***

It was an era that had yet to conquer the darkness of the night. When thick shadows fell over the world, people believed that demons and monsters lurked beyond the veil of black. And of course, in some cases, they actually did.

Every region had its own share of eerie folktales and legends. However, such stories did not dare make the home of a brave knight tremble.

The only things illuminating the dark dining room were a few candles on the table. Consequently, those seated around it were seen only as dim silhouettes.

Rickart and Marie, his father and eldest brother, his sister-in-law, and his nephew.

There was no affectionate chatter. Everyone was focused solely on their meal in silence. They tore bread and dipped it in soup, sliced salted meat, or ate bread with butter. There were no forks or spoons; they used only their hands or their knives.

Marie was busy rolling her eyes at the excessively quiet meal. His sister-in-law, Eileen, fed her young son little by little, letting him taste each morsel, while the boy stared intently at his Uncle Ricky.

Compared to his blunt father or grandfather, Fritzrit found it marvelous and pleasing that his Uncle Ricky would occasionally catch his eye and smile.

Seeing his young nephew—a doll-like boy with blond hair and chubby cheeks—smiling back at him, Rickart couldn't help but smile as well.

"I heard you were poisoned."

Abelrich, Rickart's father, spoke abruptly as he wiped his hands and mouth, having finished his meal.

"Yes, well, I'm alright now."

"That cannot be so. I don't know much about poison, but if it made you bleed just by inhaling it, it isn't something that heals easily. If you have the time, stop by the main house and pay a visit to Doctor Reno."

It was a form of worry in his own way. Rickart nodded and said he understood.

Abelrich didn't ask his son, whom he hadn't seen in a long time, about his recent life or how he had been faring. He simply left those words and rose from his seat. He was the same as ever.

"I'm tired, so I'll be heading to bed early."

He seemed to be vacating the seat intentionally, perhaps thinking his presence made the others uncomfortable.

They could have treated each other with a bit more affection, but this was the way the men of the Stormhearts Caldebern family showed consideration.

They didn't give a grand welcome to the son who had visited after a long time, nor did they treat him like a guest. They simply treated him as if he had lived with them until yesterday.

Of course, Marie was a different case.

"Child, you are my son's benefactor and his fiancée, so this place is as good as your own home. Stay for as long as you like and be comfortable. I shall also treat you as a member of the family."

For a man of this house, this level of affection occurred perhaps once in a lifetime.

"...Ah? Yes. Thank you."

Marie, who hadn't realized he was speaking to her at first, sat blankly for a moment before answering hurriedly. The family atmosphere was truly heavy; Rickart, she realized, was actually on the brighter side in this family.

As Abelrich vacated his seat, Eileen also rose with her son.

"Fritz? We should go to sleep too, shouldn't we? Say goodnight to your grandfather, your uncle, and your aunt."

"Mm... Goodnight."

The cute little boy stood straight and offered a polite bow. Rickart wanted to give him a gift, but he currently possessed nothing. He decided that once he earned some money, he would have to send something back.

When Eileen went to take the tableware, Marie tried to help, leading to a small struggle—but it was an affectionate scene.

"Oh my, it's fine. Really."

"No, I'm an adventurer, so I'm used to this."

Marie was a Sword Master, but snatching tableware with quick hand movements didn't work here. Without making her feel bad, Eileen naturally whisked them away.

Finally, only the two brothers, the eldest and the youngest, were left in the dining room. Graut, wanting to finish his day, poured wine into a cup made of animal horn.

"Will you have a cup?" Graut asked.

"No. I can't handle alcohol."

"You only just left the fief and you didn't even drink alcohol?"

"It didn't particularly appeal to me."

"Then take this opportunity to have one."

Graut offered a cup he had already poured. Rickart picked it up and drank it, but the bitter taste made him pull a sour face.

Graut chuckled stealthily, poured wine into another cup, and took a sip.

"Is it true the Emperor died?" Graut asked.

"Well, the main house will probably handle the matters. We don't know much either."

"The main house follows the Duke. Was it Duke Brumbear?"

Because of the feudal system, if it wasn't their direct lord, they weren't particularly interested in the death of the Emperor or a King.

The Caldebern family had received their fief from a past Emperor, but they did not have a direct master-servant relationship with the current one.

Duke Brumbear followed a branch of the Imperial family. The process of how it became so was somewhat complicated, but regardless, the Duke was the Emperor's direct vassal.

In other words, the death of the Emperor was a situation for big shots like Kings, Dukes, or Margraves to deal with. It wasn't a problem for a rural lord to worry about.

Of course, if a war broke out, the Duke or King would participate and summon their vassals, and then the story would be different. But for now, it wasn't their place to say much.

The Emperor's death was a problem for the Great Nobles—how they would accept it and how they would react.

Some would wonder how it related to them, some would see it as an opportunity, and some might try to secede while the Imperial family was weak.

Therefore, for now, the future was unpredictable, and there was nothing they could do even if they did try to predict it.

"Is the life of an adventurer worth it? How was the Academy?" Graut asked.

"I try to find meaning in helping people in trouble and solving their problems. Though in the end, it's usually settled with a sword fight. Academy life wasn't bad. I mean, for me."

"As expected, you were unusual even as a child. If we had discovered that talent a little earlier, or if you had been born a little earlier, how would things have been?"

"Why do you ask such a thing?"

"Well..."

Graut seemed a bit bitter. He was the one taking over the management of the fief, and the burden was becoming increasingly heavy.

Having to say things people hated to hear, treating them strictly, and sometimes driving them harshly... such things truly devastated his mind. To protect and lead the fief, he had to do many things he hated.

There was a reason their father was so blunt, and Graut was gradually becoming more like him.

"Is there some trouble?" Rickart asked.

"..."

Graut didn't answer, but he clearly looked worried. Rickart didn't press him and waited while sipping his wine.

"K-keep this a secret from Father."

"It's like when we were kids. There were many secrets between us back then. Billy would say it was a secret and then go telling it everywhere, and then Mother would find out."

Rickart, as a child, had never once divulged a secret between the brothers.

Graut let out a small laugh as he thought of the old days. But his expression soon turned worried again.

Embarrassed and reluctant, he hesitated for a long time before finally speaking.

"The Adventurer's Guild... do you know anyone there?"

"...I know some. Mostly in the Beringen branch. Why?"

"C-could the request fee be lowered a bit?"

"What's the task?"

Graut couldn't meet Rickart's eyes and hesitated again before speaking.

"Father opposes it. He says it's our problem and we should handle it ourselves, without outside help."

That sounded like something his father would say. But what was the task? Rickart waited for his next words.

Graut took a large gulp of wine and said, "Recently, because of the swordsmanship tournament, there have been many foreigners nearby. Mostly thugs. Chasing them away or killing them isn't much of a problem normally. But one day, a man visited claiming to be an Imperial Sheriff. He asked us to feed his soldiers and provide food or money. His attire, documents, and attendants all seemed plausible."

Rickart, listening, roughly guessed where this was going and felt a surge of anxiety.

"Originally, the Imperial family never contacted us directly. But the swordsmanship tournament was a real event, and it was noisy all around, so we wondered if it was a special case. So, we gave them food."

"But then you found out he was a fake?"

'In a word, they were scammed.' He wondered how this was possible, but sometimes extraordinary individuals existed—those who dared to scam nobles.

Commonly, they would deceive people by selling fake holy relics, but this case was a bit more sophisticated.

"I wouldn't be mentioning it if it had just ended there. It seems this guy has been scanning others besides us as well. And based on that, he's actually formed a troop of his own. How long such a rabble can last, I don't know, but now they are threatening us openly. They demand we hand over money. Of course, we ignore them. But the problem is, they're stalking the area under the guise of 'stabilizing security.'"

Using security as a justification while clearly committing robbery... it was obvious. Moreover, since they were operating just outside the fief, the family couldn't easily take action.

If the Imperial family were healthy, they could have just stepped on such scum at once, but now, with the chaos at the capital, they couldn't expect such a thing.

If left alone, such people would increase their power and later grow uncontrollably like a swarm of locusts, looting everywhere.

It was already a sign of the turbulent times. It seemed like those who were not civilized were running wild.

Furthermore, the point that made Rickart angry was that they had dared to touch his family and his hometown.

"What is his name?"

"Lucignan. He goes by the nickname 'Lucky.' Lucky Lucignan."

"That sounds like a western name."

The pronunciation seemed different in the west; anyway, it seemed like some strange guy from afar had rolled in because of the tournament.

"Probably."

Graut, feeling ashamed to bring up such a story to his younger brother, merely touched his empty cup. Seeing him like this, Rickart's anger surged even more.

"Brother."

"Hmm?"

"Raise your head. Why are you so intimidated?"

"..."

"Do you think I'm laughing at you, or trying to show off because I've made a bit of a name as an adventurer? I know managing a fief isn't easy. And in life, absurd things happen. So don't be discouraged."

Graut's eyes widened. Before he had left home, Rickart had resisted in his own way once, but in Graut's memory, his youngest brother was always 'Gentle' Ricky.

But now, he had the eyes of a warrior.

"I've traveled here and there, you know, and I can tell by looking at people's faces. Whether a lord is governing properly or not. Brother, you're surely helping Father and doing well; the people's expressions are good. That's enough. Don't let your heart burn because of some guy like that. I have to leave tomorrow. My friends will be worried, so I'm sorry but I can't stay long. Consider the request fee paid. Good news will come soon. Don't worry."

Rickart didn't think sending another person was suitable; it would be better for him to return quickly to Ehrenberg.

Regardless, Graut blinked and stared at Rickart blankly.

"Have you really grown up completely?"

"What, do you think I'm still a kid after eating the sword's meal for three years?" Rickart said with a laugh. Graut hadn't quite adapted to such a version of his younger brother and tilted his head.

"No contact from Billy?"

Graut shook his head. Unfortunately, it seemed not. He poured wine into his empty cup and said, "I still haven't become like Father, it seems. So, tell me, how was the Academy? Tell me the stories."

"The Academy was one thing, but Brother, have you seen a vampire? Or the sea? If I tell you the things I've seen and heard, you probably won't believe me."

"Hey, you've only been out for three years and already you're calling me a hillbilly?"

"You are a country person, aren't you?"

"You!"

"Hahahaha!"

As the alcohol took effect, the two brothers finally began to joke around. The somewhat awkward atmosphere seemed to peel away, layer by layer.

The world was harsh, and sword fights between brothers often occurred, yet nothing bestowed a sense of unity like the same bloodline.

Rickart and Graut drank until late at night, sharing worries and memories.

When he woke up from his drunken sleep, Rickart found his face buried in Marie's chest. Startled, he composed himself and opened the window to cool his head. It was already morning. Oh boy.

His father and brother had gone on patrol early in the morning; it seemed there would be no time for a farewell greeting.

For a son who had visited after a long time, one might expect them to delay their work a bit, but this family absolutely had no such custom. If they had provided fresh food and a warm place to sleep, that was enough; they didn't feel the need for excessive affection.

Rickart realized that the cool, detached way he sometimes felt about others might be a family tradition.

Work had to be done; life goes on; he wished them well, and hoped to see them next time if possible.

So Rickart didn't feel any sadness. Rather, he liked that it was the same as always.

Marie woke up and washed, and while they were preparing to travel and planning to say goodbye to Eileen and Prithrit, Eileen called out to them hurriedly.

"Ah, right! This! Young Master, take this. Your brother told me to give it to you. He said he bought it by selling those horses."

Abelrich had apparently sold the two horses Marie had acquired from the thieves. They were carriage horses, and with no place to use them and only the cost of maintenance, it was better to sell them.

The gift his brother had wanted to give him was none other than a sword. Rickart usually used longswords or greatswords, but this was an arming sword—a so-called 'Knight's Sword' used with one hand. Knights used them along with a shield.

The pommel, which balanced the sword's center of gravity, featured a round iron piece carved with the family's cross crest.

He wouldn't use it as his primary weapon, but Rickart was proficient with such a sword as well. And wearing it on his waist as a sub-weapon provided better portability. Until now, he had carried his swords on his shoulder.

"Thank you. I'll make good use of it."

"And Father told me to make sure you stop by the main house first. He wants you to see Doctor Reno before you go."

It wasn't openly affectionate, but the depth of his father's worry and affection could be felt. Rickart smiled softly.

"May you walk with confidence and bravery. Please take care of each other. Martial luck to you both."

In the fashion of a knightly family's woman, Eileen didn't just say 'take care of yourself.' Rickart stroked his nephew's head one last time and said goodbye.

"Live well, Fritz. We're going. Let's go, Marie."

Rickart, with the new sword at his waist, set out on the road. Without looking back, as if he were heartless.

He had rested sufficiently, obtained what he needed, and left nothing behind. Except for the promise that good news would be delivered to his brother in the future.

Rickart did not go to the main house first. Instead, he began to search for the man named Lucky Lucignan.

He hadn't shown any sign of it in front of his family, but since yesterday evening, a murderous instinct had been boiling inside him.

'You scum. I'm going to kill you.'