10 (9)

Strangely, only Louis and Pontina Derik were in the room. To have a free conversation, it was true that the eyes and ears around them could be bothersome. Derik was also one of the few people Louis could receive with this much ease. In the noble world, which was brutally harsh, it was not uncommon for blood relatives to steal a nephew’s succession. But Pontina Derik had done nothing but wander, with no power base of his own. Moreover, he had devoted himself to religion and remained unmarried.

Above all, the goodwill and fondness he had shown Louis since childhood were not the kind of thing one could fabricate as a mask. In a sense, as an illegitimate son himself, Derik was likely to have felt a kinship with Louis. And now, Derik’s feelings were colored by satisfaction—projecting much of himself onto Louis, whose life stood in stark contrast to Derik’s own, a life that had abandoned, despaired, and fled from many things.

Derik himself knew better than anyone that he had influenced Louis’s growth. He had taught Louis the fundamentals of swordsmanship, and he had also guided parts of Louis’s learning—stories of the outside world, education, and more. In a way, because Derik had no children, he might have looked at Louis—his brother’s bastard—and felt as though Louis were his own son.

“Where have you been all this time?”

Derik, seated comfortably, smiled as if projecting something, and asked Louis. This was always the first question, and their conversations often began with this awkwardness.

“I was beyond the long southern strait, in a place called Girik. It’s hot and dry, and it has a culture utterly alien to this one. I mingled with people who lived by different ways and looked at the world to my heart’s content. Well, it’s about all I have left now. A new god, a new culture, new clothes, new beasts, new monsters—everything felt extraordinary. If you were just a little younger, I think I could have boasted about it to you more proudly.”

Louis smiled as he spoke.

Louis answered with a smile.

“It still interests me, Uncle. I’m glad to see you still live as though you’re young. Especially that I’m seeing you at this moment.”

Pontina Derik’s face hardened.

“I know it must have been hard. It is the fate of the men who lead House Pontina. Remitri suffered for about five years because of it. No one knew, but I did. We were brothers, yes—but also friends. That is why I have lived until now. And I was satisfied with my life. I will be, going forward as well. If I had not abandoned my power back then—if I had joined the succession war, and if I had cut Remitri down with my own hand—I would have been tormented by guilt for the rest of my life.”

Derik paused, then let out a rough laugh.

“And if that had happened, you wouldn’t even have been born. How great a sin against House Pontina would that have been? In any case, if you have hardships, you can unburden them to me. And I want to say that it is only natural, as a human being. On my way here, I heard the rumors—that you received the blessing of Mars, the god of war. But.”

Derik gripped Louis’s shoulder. It was firm, strong, and carried trust.

“A human… is a human.”

Louis could not help but agree deeply. He had taken on responsibility and weight—yet he had to do it, and he wanted to do it more than anything. That was why he had run this far.

“To be honest, I did feel those emotions. Especially after everything happened. I can’t deny that those feelings were mixed in when I took thorough revenge on Marquis Gangpireu. I wanted revenge. Brother Fred was my idol. But if I had sunk into grief then, I wouldn’t be where I am now. I suppressed my emotions and found what I had to do first. I will keep doing that. Even if I fail, I’ll try to do so.”

“Yes. That may be what makes you exceptional. I yielded to fate. Or perhaps you could call me a fugitive, and it wouldn’t be strange. But unlike me, you are facing the world head-on. In any case, once the funeral is over, I intend to go elsewhere.”

“What? You’ve only just arrived—where are you going again? You’re not young anymore. You should stay here.”

“As I have always done, I should not become a burden to you. I once felt ashamed of my choice, but I do not regret it. This is my life. Seeing what you said today, it seems this place won’t be boring going forward… but thinking of them trying to approach me is revolting. I neither want to see it nor hear it. Still, for you to worry about my age… perhaps I really have grown old. Sigh. But Louis—if I were in your position, I wouldn’t have spoken like that. Didn’t you reveal too much of your true thoughts?”

“This is House Pontina’s way. Until now, Father acted too softly. I do not wish to break principle.”

“That’s right. Heh. Hearing you say that makes me happier than you know.”

“More importantly, don’t even think about leaving after the funeral. I mean it. Help me, even if only for a few years. If you refuse, I will give an order as the duke. As a member of House Pontina, fulfill your duty to the house.”

Silence.

At Louis’s serious gaze, Derik’s face—so light until now—hardened. It would surely be better for him to disappear from here, yet Louis was asking him to stay. And he did not hate it. Remitri had wanted him gone; Remitri’s son wanted him to remain. It was like the difference in attitude that showed how much Louis trusted his ability.

“What if I stab you in the back? Don’t you know trouble comes when you hold onto someone who’s leaving?”

“Then I suppose I misjudged a person. But that will never happen. I’ve watched you since I was a child, and I know you are not a man without honor.”

Derik scratched his head roughly. In some ways, Louis still resembled the boy he once knew—yet he was also entirely different. Derik thought Louis was a bold vessel who could change the world. Well, his brother was already gone, and there was nothing uncomfortable left. Perhaps he could stay here for a while. After drinking a cup of tea and gazing at the clouds beyond the window, Derik’s answer was simple.

He accepted.

Between cold marble, Louis sat in formal meditation. On one side lay the sword passed down through the house; on the other, a mana stone. It was cultivation that any swordsman would do. Not only swordsmen—there were aspects similar to mages as well. But what Louis did was on an entirely different level.

Both traits were active, and a mana stone—something a commoner might see once in a lifetime, if that—was losing its light. Louis sat with his eyes closed, receiving it. It was comfortable. Yet it was refreshing. Mana was accumulating. Not many people were permitted to enter this place. He was in deep focus, yet noise came from outside. Two familiar voices. His elder sister had come. With eyes still closed, he told them to enter. One harsh voice faded, and someone clicked across the floor as she walked in.

“Louis.”

“Sister.”

Bright, shining eyes, and a beauty who somehow resembled him. Pontina Servilia. His elder sister. Her face was plainly seized by agitation. Louis, by contrast, remained calm, relaxed. Seeing her younger brother so composed, Servilia choked and muttered.

“You didn’t say a single word to me.”

“What should I say? The look on your face when you saw me was clear enough. Why did you come here? To condemn me? Then do it. As much as you like. It would be better to get it done now.”

Smack.

She slapped Louis across the cheek. Of course, Louis had known it would happen. He could have avoided it, or caught her wrist. But he had no desire to do so—so he took the slap.

“Th-that’s something Mother couldn’t do. You killed our brother. And…”

Servilia pulled Louis into a hug.

“I’m glad you came back alive, Louis. Truly. If you had died, I would have been even sadder than I am now.”

That was why Louis had allowed her to slap him. Unlike the cruel aunt Crinoli who had tormented Louis, Servilia was one of the blood relatives who had supported him when he was young. Unlike his mother, she had pitied and sheltered the Louis who was despised, holding him with tender affection. She liked Louis so much that it had even strained her relationship with Crinoli.

That did not mean she discriminated among those she loved. Born with a fondness for family, Servilia loved her siblings equally. It was only that Louis, who had no support, received a little more of her affection. There was something almost inexplicable about her temperament. Louis, with his many eyes and ears, knew better than anyone how often sisters loathed one another.

Even so, there had to be a line. That was why Louis did not treat Servilia warmly as he once had.

“We’re blood, and you’re my sister, so I endure it. When others are present, I would prefer this not happen again. Be careful. There will not be a second time, Sister.”

“………”

“More importantly—are you on my side? Or on my aunt’s side?”

“Do you really have to draw lines like that?”

Louis took hold of Servilia’s shoulder as she avoided his gaze and asked again, directly. Servilia startled and tensed, but she did not evade his touch.

“Look me in the eyes.”

Servilia met Louis’s clear eyes. They were somehow pure, yet filled with stubborn strength.

“This is important. The world doesn’t unfold as smoothly as you think. You—who understand this better than I do—should know that. The fact that I repay debts applies to you as well. Whether you like it or not, I will protect you—unconditionally. Unconditionally. Even if you don’t choose me here, until I believe the debt is repaid, I will protect you thoroughly in politics and secure you a good marriage match. But I want your answer. Me—or my aunt.”

Servilia’s eyes wavered with conflict. It was not an easy choice.

In any case, Louis was not seeking Servilia’s cooperation for emotions alone. There were practical reasons mixed in. Servilia’s kindness applied within House Pontina; it did not necessarily extend to others. She was intelligent enough to possess her own independent power base.

That was why Louis’s casual remark—that it would be fine even if she did not choose him—was something only a very bold man could say aloud. Servilia had come here in shock and impulse after losing family, not to make such a decision, so it was natural that she could not continue speaking.

At last, Servilia broke the silence and held Louis’s gaze.

“When you speak so frankly, I have no choice. I like you more. Even if you hadn’t asked me to be on your side, I would have tried to protect you, Louis. But if there’s truly no way to reconcile, grant me one request. Can you?”

“I’ll try.”

“Don’t kill Mother. That’s my only condition.”

For an instant, murderous intent rose in Louis—but he suppressed it. As expected, his sister was also a Pontina. Louis found no reason to refuse.

“All right. But since I’m saying I’ll try, you’ll need to keep my aunt under control, Sister.”