Chapter 13
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: A Visit to the Sickbed
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I heard Ralph had taken ill and decided to visit him right away.
Poor Ralph... How on earth did he get into such a mess?
See? If you live as nicely as I do, you don't even get jumped in the street.
Anyway, I resolved to pay a sick call on Ralph. Partly to check if my lessons had sunk in... no, mostly to see just how badly he'd been hurt.
But you can't show up empty-handed for a visit like that.
So I decided to bring flowers, too.
"Young master, is this all right?"
Marian handed me a flower basket she'd picked and arranged just as I'd asked.
Classic Marian. Her handiwork was impeccable.
"Looks good. We'll go with this."
If I'd left it to Nellin... well, it would've been a whole different story.
I took the basket from Marian, and Nellin, standing nearby, stuck out her lip in a pout.
"Young master, do you really have to go? That Ralph... he's kind of a jerk."
"What do you mean, 'kind of'?"
"You know..."
Nellin trailed off, but I got the point.
Everyone knew Ralph and I didn't get along. Which was exactly why I had to go.
How perfect. Deyan Pador, showing magnanimous grace even as Ralph acted like a total punk!
There was no better way to improve my reputation within the family.
I smiled at Nellin.
"It's fine. He's the same age as me, and we'll have to keep dealing with each other, so I should go."
"Sigh... All right."
Leaving Marian and Nellin behind, I headed for the mansion where Ralph was staying.
When I arrived and stepped down from the carriage, others were streaming in to visit Ralph as well.
Was there a line?
Made sense. Ralph's father, Ian Pador, was the real power broker around here.
Strictly speaking, Father didn't care much about family affairs beyond swordsmanship, so Ian Pador pretty much ran the show.
Even so...
I looked up at Ralph's private estate.
Damn, it was huge. Almost as big as my own place.
Ralph, living beyond his station with a whole mansion to himself?
"Shall we?"
"Yes, young master."
Butler Bator went ahead to announce me, and soon we were called inside.
They couldn't refuse, even if they wanted to.
With his father as the number two, who was Ralph to turn away the patriarch's youngest son?
"Hmm..."
As we climbed the stairs, the servant guiding us whispered to the butler waiting there.
"Master Deyan has come to pay a sick call."
"Please wait a moment."
The butler didn't let me in right away. He went inside first to report.
And then...
"What?!"
Well, well. Quite the reaction.
Was he being too obvious about hating the idea?
Ralph's voice carried clearly through the door.
"No! I don't want him! Send him away!"
"We can't do that. How could we turn away Master Deyan?"
"If I say send him away, you send him away. Why are you talking back?!"
"Your father wouldn't approve."
"Argh!"
After the commotion died down, the butler returned and bowed politely.
"Please, come in, young master."
"Thanks. You've had a hard time."
"Ah... yes."
I praised his efforts and entered the room.
There lay Ralph, swaddled head to toe in bandages on the bed.
What a drama queen. Not a bruise in sight, nothing broken. Why the bandages?
"I heard you were hurt bad. Looks like it's true."
Ralph grumbled back.
"Why are you here?"
Why?
To rub it in. How humiliating must it be to get thrashed by the guy you'd been snarling at?
Nothing more shameful than that.
Hiding my true thoughts, I flashed the kindest smile in the world.
"Why? Family's hurt. Of course I came."
"Family?! What...! Urgh!"
Ralph recoiled in disgust but soon winced in pain, his face twisting up.
"That damn...! If not for that masked bastard!"
"Oh, right. I heard you got ambushed."
"Who are you mocking?"
"Not at all. Don't worry about him. The family's pulling out all the stops to catch him. Leave it to me."
I took his hand in a showy display of concern.
The other servants flinched at the sight.
"What do you think you're doing? Let go!"
Ralph shook off my hand and huffed.
"I'll catch him. Me! I'll do it myself. I was just caught off guard!"
Off guard, my ass.
This punk was mouthing off now that he couldn't see me?
Looked like he needed some follow-up... education.
Sloppy little failure.
"Right, Ralph. You're a genius. You'll do great."
"Wh-what?"
My words caught him off guard; his lips twitched.
Kid was still a kid. Beaming like that from one compliment.
Maybe hit him with another?
"Not running away in that situation... Honestly, I was impressed. I would've bolted."
Look at that lip curl up.
"Hm...?"
"You're exceptional, Ralph. Some misunderstandings cleared up. You've got the true Pador spirit."
"Heh?"
Was his composure battling his urge to gloat?
His mouth quivered like there was an earthquake.
"You're amazing, Ralph!"
"Haha! I am pretty great!"
His cheeks flushed peach-pink as he rubbed his nose.
"You're the best!"
"Yeah, I am!"
"You shouldn't run if you face that masked guy again... right?"
"Uh...?"
Ralph's eyes wavered.
He was scared, after all.
"Or not...?"
"Of course not!"
Good. Keep not running from now on.
For my sake—no, yours. Chasing you is a hassle.
I'd planned periodic tune-ups if he mouthed off again.
Sensing my gaze, Ralph puffed out his chest with forced bravado.
"If that guy shows up again, he's dead by my hand! For real!"
"That's the spirit, Ralph!"
"You little... You're starting to grow on me. Finally accepting me as your big bro?"
Dropping his guard already from a bit of praise.
So full of himself. Jeez.
Ralph clicked his tongue irritably and muttered to himself.
"Damn it, stuck like this when I should be training for Trial Valley."
"Trial Valley?"
"You planning to join too? Don't. You'll get hurt!"
Was this genuine concern? Or mockery?
Either way, it rang a bell.
Trial Valley...
The family-hosted tournament.
Kids under adulthood entered the valley for trials, right?
It was family-sponsored but famous continent-wide, so participation was open—but mandatory for Pador kids.
"Yeah, what would a guy like me know about Trial Valley. Right, Ralph?"
Ralph seemed sorry I'd agreed so readily and cleared his throat.
"Well, not that bad... Ahem."
Grateful for the visit, maybe?
Not like him. Made me think—if I'd been more flexible back then, we might've gotten along.
But Trial Valley... I'd pushed it from memory as humiliating.
Good thing, in a way.
I'd flunked the second trial. Then the third one—disaster struck. Everyone but Ralph died.
Why hadn't that struck me as odd back then?
This Trial Valley felt off.
In my first life, I'd chalked it up to accident. But after murim's schemes, I saw it differently.
That "accident" snowballed into something that swallowed the continent.
Including the Pador family's downfall.
No coincidence.
I thanked Ralph for jogging my memory.
"Thanks, Ralph. You come through sometimes."
Whoops. Too honest?
Sure enough, Ralph scowled.
"What?!"
"Haha, kidding."
"Damn it!"
"Think you'll recover? You should rest..."
"You calling me weak like you?!"
What a temper. The servants looked glum. Real glum.
All the better for me.
Time to bow out gracefully.
Perfectly magnanimous.
"Just worried... Don't push too hard. Even if you can't join, everyone knows your heart's in it."
I forced a smile and stood.
"Of course I'm joining! You think I'm you? This scratch'll heal in no time!"
Ralph puffed up. I matched it with a wistful look.
The servants saw it.
As I opened the door and descended the stairs, their whispers followed.
"Did you see...? Master Deyan is so pitiful..."
"Ralph was too much. How do you treat someone who came out of worry like that?"
"But I gained new respect for Master Deyan. Coming for Ralph in that situation—talk about character."
"Yeah, sigh... If only his health were better, he'd be perfect for the Pador family. More than anyone."
Mission accomplished.
The servants saw, they'll talk, and soon the whole family will buzz.
Thanks, Ralph.
My narrow footing in the family was widening, bit by bit.
Rumors grow in the telling.
By the time it reaches the last folks, it'll be:
- Ralph's the ultimate punk! Deyan's heart is as vast as the heavens!
Made me chuckle.
After visiting Ralph, my mansion was the scene of an unusual spectacle.
The head maid, maids, and even servants into needlework had gathered in a circle, all embroidering away.
"Young master, how are you so good at embroidery?!"
Nellin compared her work to mine and pouted.
She held something unrecognizable—like a burst tomato. Grotesque.
Nellin's handiwork was the absolute worst.
"Really? Marian seems pretty good."
Marian hid her face behind her embroidery, embarrassed by the praise. Unlike Nellin, hers was proper...
My face? A bit embarrassing.
Nellin glared at her own mess and sulked.
"Marian's always been good at it."
Marian demurred.
"Not like you, young master, or the seniors, or Head Maid."
She glanced around shyly.
Nellin pursed her lips but refocused. It didn't last.
"Embroidery just isn't my thing..."
I soothed her.
"It's okay, Nellin. No one's good at first."
"Got it... You're gonna keep this up anyway, right?"
I nodded silently.
Yes.
The embroidery circle was my latest unique tradition.
Embroidering built fine motor control for training, and gathering calmed the mind.
But most important: it wove stray info threads into a tapestry.
Memories distort, and mine were fragmentary anyway.
These sessions cross-checked from multiple angles.
They worked better than expected. And I aimed to glean Trial Valley intel here.
It was the future I needed to change first.
So I scanned for overlooked details.
Petty info would be key to handling events there.
I eased in naturally.
"By the way... Anyone know about Trial Valley? It's opening soon, and I realized I don't know much about our family event."
A light hook like that sufficed.
They'd nibble and reel in the info themselves.
Look.
Marian shivered spookily.
"I know. Where Schnell Pador slew the demon. Even now, only knights can enter."
Another maid chimed in.
"Right? Super creepy."
"You too? Me too."
"Full of monsters, duh."
Nellin smirked at the scared girls and tsked.
"You idiots. That's ancient history. It's purified now, knights guard it. What's the problem?"
The three girls' chat opened the floodgates.
"Nellin's right. Knights train there now, and it's the tournament site."
"Yeah. Oh, right—Trial's Gift. Only for the winner."
"Rumor says it's a fruit born from mana in the valley. Eat it, and we could lift boulders!"
"I heard. Heaven's blessing on the Padors!"
"As if."
"Why else would kids flock from everywhere? Top honor for noble heirs under adulthood—winning Trial Valley!"
Nellin.
Talking like you'd win it.
That was the circle's power. Huddled cozily, whispers ballooned like cotton.
But no solid intel yet...
Needed quality stuff. Like participant info.
That mattered most to me.
I listened closer.
"This year'll be brutal. Rumor has Tral Clan's spear prodigy Andrew joining."
"Oh, I heard! Whale Merchant Group heir too. Loaded—spends like it's nothing."
"Pass Trial Valley, skip the knight temple exam..."
No need to prompt; info flowed freely.
Listening pieced memory fragments like knitting.
Now I recalled Trial Valley perfectly.
Just missing one key person's details. Knew they hid identity, but hoped for scraps here.
No dice.
Guess I'd investigate myself.
I cut off the endless chatter.
Cleared my throat.
"Good. Then I'll join too."
"Pardon...?!"
All eyes on me.
These guys.
Staring daggers.
"That surprising?"
"N-no!"
"You can do it, young master!"
Lies.
Dark Venerable's gravitas backfiring.
Nobody believed.
Screw it—drop the act and pin their foreheads with needles?
Trial Valley. I'd join if only out of spite!