Chapter 192
Chapter 192
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 192
Chapter Title: Aging
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“Isn’t it about time you woke up?”
“You’ve been lying down for so long. You’ll be up soon.”
Murmuring voices drifted in from somewhere far away.
At the noise, Lord Nut scowled.
To sneak into the lord’s bedroom and chatter like this—what insolent rogue would dare?
He tried to open his eyes to identify the culprit, but he couldn’t.
His eyelids clung together as if sewn shut with thread and needle, refusing to part.
‘What’s going on?’
Shocked by his unyielding eyes and his body heavy as a lump of lead, the lord slowly tried to piece together his memories.
He had finally arranged a quiet drink with his daughter Eloise, whom he hadn’t seen in ages.
She had whined from the start about what kind of liquor it was, and he had persuaded her not to complain and just taste it.
Failing to convince her, he had sipped a few glasses alone, talking about the young knight he had unofficially chosen as his son-in-law...
‘And then?’
A sudden pressure that paralyzed his entire body, vomiting blood, agony.
That was it. What he had drunk was poison.
‘Is Eloise all right? Who poisoned it? What’s my condition now?’
Amid the whirlwind of thoughts in his head, strength began to return to his body bit by bit. It felt like the ropes binding him were gradually loosening.
Just a little more, a bit more effort.
Before long, the lord opened his eyes.
“Dad!”
“Eloise?”
Before the newly awakened lord stood his daughter.
His one and only daughter, so precious yet so guilt-ridden.
The child he had borne as a mage, to whom he couldn’t even give proper love, was tearfully embracing him.
And, astonishingly, the lord felt no revulsion toward his daughter’s embrace whatsoever.
Incredibly so.
“I— no, you, how?”
Freshly awake, his mind was muddled, sentences refusing to form properly.
What had happened, was his body okay, why did he feel no repulsion toward her at all.
Countless questions crumbled before they could leave his mouth.
“Lord Nut.”
“Knight Palato, and Knight Arsen as well.”
His most loyal knight, Palato, and the young knight he had publicly earmarked as a son-in-law, Arsen, stood respectfully behind Eloise.
A short distance away, the court mage Luden leaned crookedly against the wall.
Bowing his head to look at his emaciated body, the lord asked in a slightly flustered tone.
“Explain. What exactly happened?”
* * *
“Hah.”
After hearing the explanation, Lord Nut let out a sigh and raised his hand to rub his forehead.
Once for his two sons conspiring separately and simultaneously to poison him, once more for surviving a full year in bed without dying, and finally once for Arsen and Eloise venturing out, enduring all sorts of trials, returning with countless knights and mages to conquer the territory.
Three sighs encompassed it all.
“Can you help me up? I don’t lack faith in you all, but this is hard to believe without seeing it with my own eyes.”
At the lord’s words, Palato fetched a wheelchair.
“Sit here. I’ll push you, my lord.”
This wheelchair had been commissioned in advance by Arsen, in preparation for the lord rising and moving about.
Naturally, it wasn’t as complex as those from modern Earth. It was simply a sturdy chair fitted with large metal wheels on either side and handles at the back.
A primitive thing without self-propelled handles, but sufficient if someone pushed from behind.
“Hmm.”
The lord settled into the wheelchair Palato pushed, cautiously exiting the room and passing through the lord’s residence.
Servants doing odd jobs reacted to the sight of the lord as if seeing a ghost, some even fainting.
“L-Lord Nut!”
“The lord is awake!”
“Oh my god.”
Experiencing their reactions firsthand, the lord truly realized he had lain there for a year.
One thing that drove it home was the handful of knights he encountered here and there in the residence.
“Oh, bro, miss! Knight Palato’s here too... Father-in-law, how are you feeling today?”
“I’m not so old that I need health concerns like that.”
Guarding the underground dungeon right next to the residence was a knight who looked about twenty-six.
The lord couldn’t possibly not know a knight of that age, yet this face was new.
Even castle knights had to meet the lord personally upon commissioning, so he knew their faces.
Surprisingly, the knight paid the lord no attention at all, focusing only on Palato pushing the wheelchair, and Arsen, Eloise, and Luden behind him.
Especially calling Luden “father-in-law” lent credibility to the story he had just heard.
“Who are you?”
“Uh...”
Only then seeming to notice the lord, Bazkal looked down at him, fumbling uncertainly how to act.
Seeing this, Arsen whispered softly—too quiet for the lord to hear, just for Bazkal.
‘It’s the lord. Kneel and greet him.’
“Ah, first time meeting you, my lord. I’m Bazkal! Pleased to meet you!”
Showing signs of his weeks of training, Bazkal dropped to one knee and bowed politely.
Sighing at the sight, the lord said.
“Truly... new knights indeed. About twenty, was it?”
“A few returned to their hometowns.”
The combat golems controlled by Byeolburmi were now in the library’s life-support device.
Initially, they had fabricated a backstory of the knights only following the mages due to shared hardships, but with Byeolburmi planning to live in this territory long-term, they couldn’t keep excusing the golems forever.
And if knights learned mages could control them at will, they’d hardly hold mages in good regard.
Unless they had built camaraderie through adventures like Arsen’s knights—otherwise, even more so.
“Well, if they wanted to go home, nothing to be done. Anyway, welcome, Bazkal. You follow Arsen?”
“Ah, yes...”
Bazkal mumbled vaguely, then switched answers quickly at Arsen’s subtle cue.
“But now I’m a loyal knight of Belluan!”
“Good. I hope so.”
Replying meaningfully, the lord waved weakly.
“Let’s go in and see, then...”
Core figures of the civil war, like Deroy and Ridat, were imprisoned in the underground dungeon.
Knights were bound with black star iron shackles to prevent resistance; ordinary folk had their legs chained to ensure no escape.
The brothers, ringleaders of the rebellion, were merely confined due to their symbolic lordly bloodline.
“Lord Nut...”
“It’s the lord.”
“My lord, I’m innocent!”
“Lord Nut!”
As expected, great commotion erupted as the lord passed.
The prisoners varied: key knights who led the civil war, opportunists who committed murder, rape, and looting amid the chaos and covered it up, administrators who collaborated with the brothers to monopolize supplies for profit, retired elders who backed factions for prestige...
Among them sat a slumped knight.
A pitiable figure with both legs severed and arms bound.
His name was Ramun, once the territory’s strongest knight of renown.
Hard to imagine from his current state.
“Ramun.”
“My lord.”
Ramun’s voice was choked tight.
Gazing at him, the lord quietly ordered.
“Bring him out.”
Bazkal, accompanying them, grabbed Ramun by the scruff and yanked him out effortlessly.
Prisoners clinging begging to be freed were kicked away mercilessly.
“Brought him, my lord.”
“Thank you, Knight Bazkal.”
Coughing lightly from the fresh air, the lord instructed Luden to cast a confession spell.
Naturally, on Ramun.
“This again. I’d have told you anyway, no need...”
Ramun stared resignedly at the light flowing from Luden’s hand.
Moments later, his eyes glazed over. The lord asked sternly.
“Ramun?”
“Yes.”
“Answer my questions.”
“Understood.”
“Was it you who tried to poison me?”
“Yes.”
At the ready admission, the lord clutched his forehead briefly. Then resumed questioning.
“Why? I can guess, but was it because I blackmailed you?”
“Yes.”
Those behind, including Arsen, showed no surprise at the lord’s words—they had heard it during prior interrogations.
Per Ramun’s statement, the lord had planned to exile him from the territory and make him castle lord.
To free his designated heir, Ridat, from Ramun’s influence.
The blackmail material was simple: Ramun’s youthful fling with the lord’s wife—his own sister.
Before her marriage to the lord, so not adultery, but sibling incest was dishonor even a top knight couldn’t cover up.
Thus, Ridat wasn’t Ramun’s son—the affair predated his birth by years.
After a deep breath, the lord asked.
“Did Ridat know this too?”
“Young master knew nothing. It was my sole decision.”
The lord sighed in relief at Ramun’s reply.
Arsen couldn’t grasp the meaning—relief at not completely botching one child’s upbringing, or something else.
Soon after, the lord sent Ramun back and summoned a few more for confession spells to hear their accounts.
Knight Amund, who attempted poisoning around the same time as Ramun, confessed it was on Deroy’s orders.
Anxious at Ridat’s designation as next lord, he had finally snapped.
After hearing all testimonies and returning the prisoners, the lord asked Luden.
“Knight Luden.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“That spell just now—is its effect reliable? Any chance of error?”
“I’ve tested it a few times myself. No mistakes so far.”
“I see...”
Replying in a weary voice, the lord ordered them forward. To the deepest, darkest section of the underground dungeon—where his two sons were held.
“Ah, Father.”
“Father!”
At the dungeon’s end, facing each other in cells, Deroy and Ridat sprang up in shock.
Deroy’s face especially was ashen.
Scanning his sons, the frail lord straightened with effort and declared.
“I heard the details on the way.”
“I’m innocent! They’re slandering me, Father! Ridat and I were both tricked!”
Squeezing out tears, Deroy pleaded desperately.
He showed some lordly potential in that moment.
Acting was a politician’s essential skill, after all. Though acting alone wouldn’t make a lord competent.
Ignoring Deroy entirely, the lord pressed Ridat sternly.
“Answer me, Ridat.”
“I... naturally thought it was Deroy, but now I’m not sure. Exactly.”
At the vague yet honest reply, the lord sighed.
“Yes, I heard. Deroy directly ordered Knight Amund, but you did nothing? Ramun acted alone...”
Adding pityingly, Lord Nut continued.
“But with things as they are, it’ll be hard for you to inherit the lordship, Ridat.”
Ridat bowed his head deeply.
“Yes, I understand.”
Truthfully, Ridat hadn’t committed great wrongs.
He had merely fought to defend the territory, unaware, against the presumed poisoner Deroy.
But with his uncle Ramun acting to make him lord, Ridat couldn’t escape implication.
Moreover, even if made lord, Eloise’s massive accompanying force was the issue.
Even Lord Nut couldn’t ignore his daughter now—what influence could Ridat wield?
“Spend your remaining days in the castle. That much consideration I can offer.”
“Thank you sincerely, Father.”
Tears streaming as he bowed, Ridat. Enraged at the silence toward him, Deroy shouted.
“Why say nothing to me, Father? I’m truly innocent! Please believe me! Dad!”
Deroy’s persistent whining continued.
Lord Nut bit his lip listening.
His hesitation was obvious to all, so Arsen and the others waited without pressing.
Soon, the lord called Luden to recast the spell.
“Knight Luden, please.”
“Understood.”
Luden’s spell cast once more. Deroy’s eyes slackened under the light.
The lord asked flatly: Were you truly innocent? Never tried to kill me?
Deroy’s response was a spectacle.
“That damned bastard looked down on me. And you’re at fault too, Father. Always clinging to that filthy mage wench, while your eldest son...”
Inferiority, resentment, all manner of venomous negativity poured out.
Finally, the lord shook his head, unable to bear it.
“Enough... Let’s go.”
Lord Nut avoided looking at his eldest. Turning away, he even covered his ears to block the tirade.
Until the wheelchair reached the surface.
* * *
Emerging from the dungeon at last, Arsen glanced at Lord Nut’s face.
He looked twenty years older than his age.
“Not a pleasant feeling.”
“You’ve been through a lot.”
“What ordeal? It’s all my karma.”
Muttering lamentingly, the lord silently gazed at the sky.
After dozens of seconds, having calmed, he spoke.
“For now... I’d like to return and rest. We’ll talk details tomorrow. About the succession, that is.”