Chapter 72
Chapter 72
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 72
Chapter Title: Homecoming
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Victory Day was a holiday commemorating the battle to reclaim the North by retaking Decaron from the barbarians.
At the time, Decaron had been occupied by barbarians for about a hundred years, and the people of the North had been reduced to slavery.
A hero suddenly appeared, crushing the barbarians and uniting the northerners. He was Shiron van Sigmund, the first of his name and the first head of the Sigmund family.
Shiron van Sigmund, said to be of ancient blood, won victory after victory in battle, liberating the people of the North. He eventually joined forces with the king of the allied kingdom to retake Decaron in what came to be known as the War of Liberation.
Afterward, Shiron van Sigmund became the ruler of the North as the lord of Decaron, which naturally led to the founding of the Sigmund family.
It was only natural, then, that Victory Day, celebrating the triumph in the War of Liberation, was the biggest event in Decaron. It was also customary for dignitaries from the other twelve families supporting the Nürburg Kingdom to visit.
“They'll all flock here, won't they?”
Carlyle frowned, the mere thought of it exhausting him.
“I don't believe so.”
“Oh…?”
Carlyle searched his memory.
But the northern scoundrel had almost no recollection of Victory Day.
In his younger years, he seemed to recall occasionally attending banquets and interacting with the heads and children of other families.
But after he went astray, the family stopped inviting him, and he himself never participated in the events.
He only used the festivities as an opportunity to indulge even more fervently in wine and women...
“Traditionally, seven of the twelve families of the allied kingdom, excluding our own, attend consistently. The other five vary from year to year.”
“Ah, is that so.”
“You probably don't remember it well.”
Maranello gave a wry smile.
“Hmm.”
Carlyle thought for a moment before speaking.
“Then can't I just skip it this time too?”
“That will likely be difficult.”
“Why?”
“You are scheduled to be promoted to an officer after passing the Noble Proof. Do you think the family head would simply let you be?”
“If he doesn't, what… Ah.”
Carlyle's expression suddenly hardened.
“So he'll try to stick me in an even tougher place?”
“Wouldn't he, most likely.”
“Ugh.”
Carlyle scowled.
He had never engaged in the social activities of nobles, even in his past life, and his personality wasn't suited for such things.
“Have I been too well-behaved lately? Right. I should probably cause a bit of trouble so they go back to treating me like I don't exist.”
“Young Master, what are you saying…”
Maranello said, his face pale, but his words didn't seem to reach Carlyle's ears.
“Where can I find some decent trouble to get into... But if I make too big a mess, it'll just make things harder for me... Something that will get me a light disciplinary confinement…”
“Kuh.”
Maranello covered his face as if the mere thought was horrifying.
“Um, Head Chamberlain.”
Evangeline spoke up, her eyes filled with a hint of curiosity.
“I have a question.”
“A question?”
“I heard that the young master of the Belvedere family is incredibly handsome… Is that true?”
“Hoho.”
Maranello chuckled.
“Is that what you're so curious about?”
“N-no, that's not it.”
Evangeline blushed.
“It's just that there's a lot of talk about who is more handsome, the young master of the Belvedere family or our Young Master.”
“Indeed.”
Maranello nodded as if that made sense.
“The eldest son of the Belvedere family is indeed a handsome man, so much so that no one could deny it. He is even called the most handsome man on the continent.”
“I-I see.”
Evangeline looked like she couldn't bring herself to ask any more.
As a future vassal and Carlyle's handmaiden, it would be highly disrespectful to dare to directly compare her master with a third party...
“But there is no need to doubt.”
“Pardon?”
“The eldest son of the Belvedere family may be called the most handsome man on the continent, but he cannot compare to Young Master Carlyle.”
“...!”
“In terms of looks alone, our Young Master is truly the most handsome man on the continent.”
“I knew it!”
Evangeline clenched her fists as if she had believed it all along.
“There's no way a man as handsome as our Young Master could exist anywhere else in the world!”
“Of course, of course.”
Maranello nodded repeatedly, as if he had no doubt.
“In all my life, I have never seen a man as handsome as our Young Master. Hohoho.”
“That's our Young Master.”
However, Carlyle, the subject of their conversation, had absolutely no interest in it.
*How can I avoid this troublesome business... How...*
That was the only thought occupying Carlyle's mind.
***
Carlyle's party, that is, the troops from Bowden Fortress, arrived in Decaron via the 2nd Army Command.
“Everyone, enjoy your leave, and make sure to return safely and on time.”
“Sir!”
The soldiers scattered.
“Well then, I'll see you when we get back.”
Carlyle gave a brief farewell to the reconnaissance team members and turned away.
“Yeah, get some good rest. It's your first leave, so eat lots of good food.”
Begman offered Carlyle some kind words.
“Captain.”
“Hm?”
“Is it really okay for you to keep speaking so informally to Second Lieutenant Carlyle?”
“What, you punk? He's not one yet!”
“Even so, to speak so casually to someone who is about to become an officer…”
“I-Is that so?”
At Russell's point, Begman glanced cautiously at Carlyle.
“That's why you should always treat everyone with respect, don't you think? Like me.”
Kudo said with a grin.
“I'm not promoted yet, so everyone can just speak comfortably.”
“I-Is that really okay?”
“Yes.”
“Don't you go back on your word later.”
“Don't worry.”
“Alright.”
Begman nodded, and the other reconnaissance team members also said a few words to Carlyle.
“Enjoy your leave.”
“See you in a month. Well, if I'm still alive by then, that is. Hehe.”
As the pleasantries were winding down, a grand six-horse carriage appeared and stopped before Carlyle.
“Young Master, the carriage is ready. Please, get in.”
“Thanks.”
Carlyle quickly boarded the carriage.
Clip-clop, clip-clop...
As the carriage departed, the remaining reconnaissance team members stared after it with slightly dazed expressions.
Some were setting off for home on foot without a word, while those with distant hometowns had to pool their money to hire a driver and travel together...
For the reconnaissance team members, it was a moment that brought the difference in status between them and Carlyle into sharp relief.
“Guess there's no need to worry about a rich boy after all.”
“You're not supposed to worry about a Sigmund, right?”
“You little brat!”
“Ack!”
Russell, who had needlessly pointed it out, cried out in pain as he received a flick to the head.
“Well, you all have fun. I'm off.”
“Then, I'll be on my way as well.”
Wilson and Kudo headed toward the center of Decaron.
“Ugh. My hometown is so far away, I'll have to catch a carriage. Phew. I can already feel suffocated just thinking about how crowded it'll be.”
Russell grumbled as he made his way to the post station.
The reconnaissance team members also exchanged a few last words before scattering toward their respective destinations.
“Sir Helen…”
Begman, now left alone, asked Helen.
“I…”
Helen glanced around to see if anyone was nearby before speaking cautiously.
“I plan to stay in Decaron for the Victory Day events before heading home, Uncle.”
“Ah, I see.”
Begman also looked around cautiously and dropped the formal speech.
Their connection dated back to when Helen first enlisted as a lowly private, so they would speak comfortably like this when they were alone.
“What about you, Uncle?”
“I'm heading home.”
“But…”
“Home is home. Where else would a soldier on leave go?”
“...”
“Well, I'm off. Enjoy your leave. And say hello to your younger siblings back home for me.”
“Yes, Uncle.”
“I'm going.”
Begman gave a slight smile and started walking.
“Uncle, that way is…”
Helen suddenly thought that Begman's destination might not be his hometown.
The direction Begman was heading… was the path to Helen's hometown.
***
The inner castle of Decaron trembled in shock and fear.
Carlyle van Sigmund.
News that the scoundrel who had been driven to his death (enlisted) according to family tradition had returned on reward leave sent servants, handmaidens, and even knights trembling with anxiety and apprehension.
Whisper, whisper!
Everyone was talking.
“How in the world did that scoundrel survive?”
“He probably hid like a coward in the back.”
“I'm already scared to think about what kind of hell he'll raise.”
Given Carlyle van Sigmund's rather colorful track record, it was only natural for everyone working in the inner castle to be on high alert.
But Carlyle himself simply returned quietly and holed himself up in his room, showing no signs of activity.
Of course, this only heightened the anxiety of the servants, handmaidens, and knights...
Flop. Carlyle buried himself in the vast expanse of his bed.
“Ah, now this is living.”
“Is it that good, Young Master?”
“After sleeping on a field cot for two months, lying here is like heaven.”
“Hoho.”
Maranello let out a dry laugh.
“Only two months, and you're making such a fuss? When this old man was young, I lived on a field cot for three straight years and was perfectly fine.”
“Well, I'm not.”
Carlyle said flatly.
“I'm going to get some sleep.”
“Yes, Young Master. Please rest well.”
Maranello smiled and excused himself.
Since Grand Duke Guntram happened to be away, Carlyle was able to seek sleep in his large, soft bed without any interruptions.
“Butler! Is this really your house, Butler? It's amazing!”
The hatchling, having stealthily slipped out of Carlyle's embrace, flapped its wings and flew all around the room.
“It's not my house. It's the Grand Duke's. I'm just living here.”
“Grand Duke?”
“The lord of this domain.”
“That's your dad, Butler.”
“Could be, could not be.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It's not important, so stay out of other people's family business.”
“So is the Grand Duke your dad or not?”
“Why is that important?”
“Why wouldn't it be important? From my perspective, it's obviously important whether you're a rich kid or not. If you're not the Grand Duke's son, isn't this hatching fraud?”
“Fraud… what?”
“Hatching fraud!”
“...”
“If you weren't a rich kid, I would have been tricked into hatchi—”
“Ah, enough.”
Carlyle pulled the covers over his head.
“Stop bothering me so I can get some sleep. If you're hungry, go ask Evangeline for some feed. You know who she is, the lady who came with us from the fortress, right?”
“What? Feeeed? Haaaaak!”
The hatchling growled, but Carlyle gritted his teeth and ignored it.
Poke, poke, poke, poke, poke, poke, poke, poke, poke, poke, poke, poke, poke...
“Just you wait! Hmph!”
The hatchling threw a few cotton-puff punches at Carlyle for a while before flying off to find Evangeline, presumably because it got hungry.
*It's already flying. How long has it even been since it was born?*
Then again, it wasn't that strange.
The hatchling wasn't a naturally born creature, but a test subject created by the mage Antiros.
*First, sleep.*
Carlyle closed his eyes.
But sleep did not come easily.
One hour, two hours...
*Why can't I sleep?*
For several hours, Carlyle tossed and turned, wide awake.
Strangely, the soft bed felt uncomfortable. An unknown anxiety made him edgy, and the pounding of his own heart echoed in his ears.
*This is driving me crazy.*
Carlyle shot up and looked at the clock on the wall.
Five hours had already passed since he had lain down in bed, but strangely, sleep still eluded him.
*Is it because my body isn't tired enough? Maybe moving around a bit will help.*
Since it was late at night, Carlyle stealthily left his bed and headed to his personal training ground.
“Zzz, zzzz…”
The hatchling was curled up by Carlyle's pillow, fast asleep and oblivious to the world.
“Huh?”
When Carlyle arrived at the old castle ruins outside the outer castle, he realized someone was waiting for him.
“You've come, Young Master.”
Maranello was waiting for Carlyle, a feather duster in hand.