Chapter 17
Chapter 17
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: Lord Tiwin's Demise
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“Even though he wakes up once in the afternoon, his condition is poor, so it’ll be hard to meet for long.”
“We’re just here to pay our respects.”
“Let’s go in and wait, then.”
Eugene, Galpredic, and Pellid entered Lord Tiwin’s bedroom in the main building alongside Kamara.
The bedroom was dark, with several maids bowing their heads.
‘That smell….’
Eugene unconsciously frowned.
It wasn’t simply foulness.
As a vampire, Eugene instinctively sensed the aroma of “death” wafting from the bed where Lord Tiwin lay.
Just as the rumors said, Lord Tiwin appeared beyond saving.
“How is Father doing?”
At Kamara’s question, the Rose Castle physician who had bandaged Eugene’s wounds replied with a grim expression.
“I just administered his medicine, so he’ll wake for a short while. And… as I mentioned, it’s best if you steel yourself. Mana Crystals may prolong his life, but only barely. Best to let him pass peacefully into God’s arms.”
“Tch. Fine, I get it.”
The physician gave them a slight bow and departed after Kamara’s response.
Eugene gazed at the territory lord lying atop the bed: Lord Tiwin.
The elderly man, his bluish face covered in liver spots, already resembled a corpse.
It was impossible to believe that, up until twenty years ago, he had been counted among the top five knights in the region.
“I had no talent myself, but do you know why I abandoned the path of knighthood long ago?”
Eugene turned toward Kamara at the man’s subdued voice.
“I didn’t want to end up like this. And I won’t in the future, either. I’ll never become like this.”
Kamara’s eyes, fixed on Lord Tiwin, seemed almost to flicker with inner flames.
Eugene was mildly surprised by this unfamiliar facet of Kamara. Clearly, he was more than just the arrogant heir to a minor fief.
“You knights might not understand, but Father showed signs of this even when I was a child. A life of booze and brutality masked as knightly valor—natural consequences. If he’d been skilled on the lute, it might’ve been different. But all he knew was donning armor, mounting a horse, and charging into battle.”
“That’s how all knights live.”
Kamara turned to Galpredic and flashed a toothy grin.
“Exactly. And that’s not the issue. This fief itself was built on the coin Father earned subjugating demon realms and fighting in wars. But listen.”
Kamara’s tone grew solemn.
“Even this modest territory couldn’t be run properly. Never mind the nobles coveting it—the very lord who exploited Father began scheming the moment the dungeon appeared. Had you knights failed the opening subjugation, we’d have gone bankrupt in months. Do you grasp what that means?”
Kamara’s smile deepened.
“Father built the fief, but Father also doomed it. Lord Tiwin himself. Twenty years? That’s a good long run, isn’t it?”
“Overcoming that is the heir’s duty as firstborn, no? You succeeded in the opening subjugation. Now just manage it well.”
“Hah! I intend to. I’ll pour every ounce of effort into it. But if it were that simple, why do dozens of minor fiefs like ours change hands so often?”
“……”
“Without power, it’s all for naught. Those byproducts and Mana Stones we earned? After your success fees and paying off some debts, barely a pittance remains. Time for another borrowing spree. At least the opening success might make the Feilin Merchant Group lend more readily? Heh.”
Eugene suddenly realized something from Kamara’s self-deprecating words.
No matter one’s title as lord, powerlessness rendered it meaningless. Being master of a remote, insignificant fief held no grandeur.
Had Tiwin fief possessed true strength, it would never have needed an unknown knight’s prowess or the Feilin Merchant Group’s coin.
‘Hold on. If I play this right…?’
At that moment, the eyelids of Lord Tiwin—who lay as still as the grave—twitched faintly.
“Father’s waking up.”
“Who… are you…?”
Kamara approached as Lord Tiwin barely pried open his eyes.
“It’s me, Father. Kamara. I brought the two knights who succeeded in the opening subjugation to introduce them.”
“Is that… so. I’m… a bit…”
Lord Tiwin lifted a hand, and Kamara swiftly supported him.
Lord Tiwin’s vacant gaze met Pellid’s as he propped his upper body against the pillow with great effort.
“That boy… Ah, right. Vera’s son. Our youngest. Heh…”
“My lord.”
“Call me… Father. I’ll be gone soon. If not now… when? Heh heh.”
Lord Tiwin patted Pellid’s shoulder as the youth approached, then turned his eyes to Eugene and Galpredic.
“You knights… succeeded in the opening… subjugation?”
“Yes, Lord Tiwin. An honor to meet you. I’m Crema Galpredic, third son of the Galpredic house.”
“Yan, eldest son of the Eugene house.”
Following Galpredic’s lead, Eugene rested a hand on his sword’s pommel and inclined his head slightly.
“I… see. You’ve toiled hard. And… Sir Eugene, was it?”
“Yes, Lord Tiwin.”
“You brought the boy? Seems you seek something… What is it?”
“Sir Eugene wishes formal recognition of his status, Father. I mentioned it briefly before.”
“Ah, right… So you did…”
Lord Tiwin beckoned weakly, and Kamara hurriedly proffered a document.
It was proof of Eugene’s status, already prepared by Kamara.
With a large ring seal on his middle finger, Lord Tiwin pressed it firmly to the parchment’s bottom and rasped.
“For a knight who’s already succeeded… in the opening subjugation… not much use, perhaps. Still… in this region, it guarantees your standing perfectly. Yan… of the Eugene house.”
“Thank you.”
Eugene felt little stir at achieving one of his primary goals in escorting Pellid all the way to Rose Castle.
Lord Tiwin nodded sluggishly before shifting his gaze to Kamara.
A complex swirl of emotions in his eyes, Lord Tiwin regarded his eldest son silently, then stroked Kamara’s hand with his gnarled, emaciated fingers.
“You’ve… endured much.”
“Just my duty, Father.”
“No. We both know… it’s no easy task. Cough cough!”
Lord Tiwin gripped Kamara’s hand tight after hacking up a dry cough.
Kamara’s eyes widened faintly.
“Ah, Father. This…”
“From now on… you are the fief’s lord. Lead Tiwin… not as a knight… but as its lord…”
Thud.
Lord Tiwin’s head lolled forward, leaving the ring seal behind for his son.
“Father? Father!”
“Ah, Father!?”
Kamara and Pellid’s frantic cries filled the room.
A dismal failure as a lord but a knight of some renown, Lord Tiwin breathed his last.
* * *
“Sorry we can’t stay for the funeral.”
“No matter. Father would be content seeing off a knight as valiant as you.”
Galpredic clasped hands with Kamara—who shook his head—then turned to Eugene.
“Take care, then. No telling when we’ll meet again, but I’d like us to be allies if we do.”
“Mm.”
Eugene shook hands with Galpredic, the man who had shattered his prejudices about knights.
He fought without restraint and honored his name and word.
“And the second son…”
Galpredic chuckled as he moved to bid Bertel farewell.
Whatever his grudge, Bertel refused even to glance their way.
“Sulking like a child. Tsk tsk tsk.”
Galpredic tutted loudly for all to hear, but Bertel merely flinched, too cowed to respond.
“Farewell, all!”
Galpredic mounted up and rode off.
Alone in Plate Mail, festooned with longsword, battle axe, and personal lance, no lunatic would assail him.
“Right! Inside, everyone. Funeral preparations await.”
“Yes, Lord Tiwin!”
Rose Castle’s folk bowed and scraped at Kamara’s command. From this day, he was the new “Lord Tiwin”—and the castle his domain.
“Then, Sir Eugene—best of luck.”
“Mutual gain demands our best efforts.”
After exchanging glances with Eugene, Kamara faced Pellid.
“Short stay, but take care. Don’t badmouth us too much to your master.”
“Ah! Never happen. That said, the funeral…”
“You saw him off properly. That suffices.”
“Yes… Lord Tiwin.”
“Brother, I said.”
“Ah, yes. Bro… Brother.”
Kamara clapped the awkwardly responding Pellid on the shoulder, then strode toward the main building.
Bertel trailed after, eyes boring murderous daggers into Eugene and Pellid.
“That icy prick! I really can’t stand him! Can’t I sneak over tonight and slit his throat?”
Eugene ignored Mirian’s usual drivel and walked on with Pellid.
“Uh, Master.”
“Hm?”
“Really sorry to ask again, but… why bring me along? You said before there was no need…”
“Well. You’ve got work ahead.”
“Yes?”
Pellid cocked his head, but his face soon lit up.
“Partek!”
“Greetings, young master.”
Partek, Glad, and Raban bowed to Pellid at the drawbridge’s end, where they waited.
“What’s this about?”
Partek merely smiled and addressed Eugene.
“All preparations complete, Sir Eugene.”
“And the mercenaries from yesterday?”
“Told ’em to wait quietly in the village till your return. They fell in line without a peep.”
“Good. Let’s move.”
“Master? Aren’t we settling in the lower town?”
Eugene turned to the scrambling Pellid.
“Suddenly so chatty. Isn’t a squire’s place to follow his knight in silence?”
“Ah, yes—yessir.”
Pellid clamped his mouth shut, reminded of his station.
Raban sidled up beside him.
“We’re off to Brams now, young master.”
“Brams? Why there…?”
“To buy horses, per Sir Eugene.”
“Ah…”
“But Brams ain’t the final stop.”
“Yes? What’s that mean?”
Raban flashed a cryptic smile at the exasperated, squinting Pellid.
“Horses in Brams, then we head to Maren.”
“Maren… holy—!”
The Broadwin bastard’s eyes bulged saucer-wide at the name of the realm’s grandest trade city—a full ten days’ trek.
* * *
‘One massive hit to the purse.’
Eugene eyed his lightened coin pouch wistfully before stowing it away.
Half the Tiwin reward vanished buying a packhorse-drawn cart in Martella Village, Rose Castle’s lower town.
Essential for hauling monster byproducts—and to be resold immediately in Maren—the loss still smarted.
“Warhorses would’ve been nice. Eh, Sir Eugene?”
“A village with one knight having warhorses? That’d be the oddity.”
“Brams’ll have solid mounts.”
Eugene nodded to Partek.
Yet the heart is fickle: with coin to spare, greed stirred.
“Maren’s bound to have better. Proper warhorses.”
“True enough. Maren dwarfs Brams—embarrassing to compare. Skip Brams and go straight there?”
Eugene pondered briefly, then nodded.
“Smarter.”
Next subjugation lay over a month off, but Rose Castle to Maren was a half-month round trip alone.
Superior mounts awaited there; no sense squandering a day.
“You sure you won’t ride the cart? We’re rotating, but it feels…”
“I’m good.”
Dungeon bloodletting from monsters left Eugene in peak form.
Monster blood outclassed mere beasts by leagues.
In Broadwin, he’d needed a feed every ten days to endure; now, months could pass comfortably.
Mid-tier or higher monster blood bestowed tremendous vitality.
‘Still, better safe—feed every couple months.’
Sloppiness or complacency? Unacceptable. Peak readiness was mandatory, come what may.
Steeled anew, Eugene heard Pellid dismount from the cart’s rear and approach.
“Master.”
“Yeah?”
“Truly sorry to nag, but… what’s my job? I rack my brains, but nothing I can do comes to mind.”
No need for him selling byproducts.
The crew boasted three opening survivors plus the troll-decapitator knight—guards aplenty.
Useless as odd-jobber too: all handled their tasks, Raban covering scutwork.
Pellid Tiwin? Superfluous.
“You’ll have work in Maren.”
“In Maren?”
Eugene nodded to the startled Pellid.
“Yeah. You’ll represent House Tiwin, overseeing everything from the dungeon.”
“……!”
Pellid’s jaw dropped.
(To be continued)