Chapter 165
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 165
We followed Chamberlain Fernandez through the inner wall.
As we passed through, the scenery shifted. Soldiers marched in rigid rows and columns, and prisoners bound in heavy chains were dragged along the stone.
Clank, clank—
“Move it!”
We had only crossed a single wall, yet the atmosphere was cold and heavy with discipline—a stark contrast to the bustling, vibrant city center we had just left.
The Western Front is composed of three walls.
The first is the inner wall. It is the innermost barrier, protecting the Devalis city center and the hundreds of thousands of citizens I had just passed.
Next is the central wall. Located between the outer and inner walls, it serves as a massive buffer zone.
The place I was currently standing in was this very buffer zone. It housed the barracks for the Devalis Knights—renowned across the continent—and their battle-hardened elite soldiers, as well as prisons for convicts transported from every corner of the land.
“……”
Unlike the murmuring crowds of civilians, the soldiers and knights here gave me nothing but cold, fleeting glances before looking away. They didn't offer a single greeting; they simply ignored me.
Unlike the city guard, these are elite soldiers who face magical beasts on the front lines.
They rotated between the third wall—the outer wall—and the central wall, fighting in grueling shifts. To men who stared death in the face every day, a visit from Roen was hardly worth their attention. In their eyes, Roen was just an immature brat who acted out recklessly—a good-for-nothing who, despite carrying the Devalis bloodline, had never accomplished a single thing on his own.
As I watched them in silence, Fernandez offered a gentle smile, attempting to smooth things over.
“Lord Roen, please do not mind their attitude. They only just returned from the outer wall yesterday and are exhausted from the fighting.”
“It’s fine. I don’t mind.”
I was well aware of what they thought of me.
Seeing my lack of reaction, Fernandez remarked, “It seems you’ve matured quite a bit. In the past, you would have thrown a fit.”
“Time changes many things.”
When I gave the vague reply, Fernandez responded with a knowing smile instead of words.
Following him, we arrived at the fortress situated atop the central wall. The fortress of House Devalis was built to connect the three great walls surrounding the Western Front like a single, massive bridge.
It was commonly known as the Black Keep.
This massive citadel, constructed on an arched bridge connecting the walls, exuded an intimidating presence, looking like a fortress floating in the sky.
Magnificent.
Seeing the sight in person, which I had only ever viewed in the game, was a surreal experience.
We climbed a flight of stairs as high as the wall itself and entered the fortress, which was constructed of rough, black bricks. Following Fernandez into the audience chamber, I saw a woman sitting on a throne decorated with a lion’s head carving.
“Family Head, I have brought our guests.”
Seeing us follow behind Fernandez, she broke into a wide grin.
“You’re here!”
Thud—
She slammed the cup she was drinking from onto a table and strode toward us. Her eyes were full of confidence, and a palpable fighting spirit radiated from her entire body. She was tall, with a physique honed by years of real combat. Her long, unkempt black hair was dry and coarse, resembling a lion's mane.
She was the current head of House Devalis and Roen’s older sister.
Aslan Devalis.
She spread her arms wide to welcome me.
“You’ve grown so much, you punk!”
Squeeze—
Then she closed the distance and wrapped her arms around me in a crushing embrace.
“Ghk.”
Her strength was so immense that I felt an intense pressure, as if my entire ribcage was about to collapse.
Creeak—
It was a monstrous strength that pierced right through my suit’s physical resistance. I felt like a giant serpent was coiling around me, squeezing the life out of me.
So, this is the level of a Sword Master.
Aslan’s eyes widened as she saw me holding out for a surprisingly long time.
“Hoh, you’ve put on some muscle. Been working out hard, have you? Huh?”
“…Let go.”
As I strained to break free, Aslan looked at Fernandez and laughed heartily.
“Fernandez, did you hear that? He told me to let go!” she cackled.
“He’s even talking back to the Family Head. It seems Lord Roen has matured a great deal.”
“I was wondering when you’d grow up. Is your head finally getting screwed on straight? Alright, then. I’ll let you go, just as you wished.”
“Hah…”
Only then was I able to break free from Aslan’s embrace, gasping for breath.
I thought I was going to die.
First an assassination attempt the moment I get home, and now my own sister treats me like a chew toy. I rubbed my aching arms and retorted defiantly.
“Being this rough, do you ever expect to get married?”
“What, you little shit?”
Thwack—
Aslan smacked me on the head so hard I thought my skull would crack. While I was busy rubbing my head, worried it might have actually split open, she immediately sought out her next prey.
“Ciel, you get over here too.”
Having witnessed my helpless struggle, Ciel swallowed dryly and bowed her head to Aslan.
“…I must decline.”
But it was no use.
“Decline what? Get over here!”
In the end, Ciel too was crushed by Aslan’s monstrous strength, left to squirm in her grip.
“Ugh…”
It seemed that even Ciel couldn’t resist Aslan’s otherworldly power. After the intense hug, Aslan’s gaze fell on Freya.
“Freya, it’s been a while. You’ve gotten so pretty since I last saw you. You should visit more often.”
“Thank you.”
Aslan looked as if she was about to open her arms again, but then she smirked and lowered them.
“I’ll let you off since you’re not family. Ah, unless you want a hug from your big sis here?”
At those words, Freya’s expression turned icy as she replied instantly.
“I respectfully decline.”
After the round of boisterous greetings was over, Ciel asked with a hint of confusion in her voice.
“Family Head, how did you know we were coming?”
Aslan spent most of the year in the conflict zones beyond the outer wall to destroy monster habitats. It was rare for her to be here in the Black Keep, let alone perfectly timed for our arrival.
“Ah, the Chairman let me know in advance. Said he’d be sending you over earlier than planned. Sir Wodanaz probably knows too.”
Aslan placed a hand on my head and grinned.
“Well then, shall we throw a banquet for the return of the prodigal son?”
*
Many members of the family attended the banquet held to celebrate my return and Freya’s visit. Most of them were martial artists with imposing, scarred physiques. I recognized a few faces from the game, but most were strangers.
“……”
“Ahem.”
“Tsk, tsk.”
Though they didn’t say it out loud, the attendees wore openly displeased expressions. They had attended because it was Aslan’s order and because Freya was visiting, but it was clear they held deep-seated unfavorable feelings toward me.
Well, I can understand.
There was no way they would look kindly upon Roen, who had been tarnishing the name of the respected House Devalis across the continent for years. Besides, they had likely been the ones cleaning up the messes from Roen’s various misdeeds, so it was perfectly understandable that they held a grudge.
Despite it being a banquet, the atmosphere was somber. Unable to stand it any longer, Aslan intervened.
Clap, clap—
“Everyone, lighten up! It’s a joyous day, shouldn’t we all be enjoying ourselves? We have a precious guest, too.”
With Freya present, this gloomy atmosphere would tarnish the family's reputation.
“……”
At Aslan’s coaxing, a few of them relaxed their expressions and responded appropriately, but some remained stubbornly sullen. Most of them were the older elders of the family. It seemed the idea of holding a banquet for my sake was incredibly displeasing to them.
“Hoo.”
Seeing this, Aslan let out a quiet sigh and warned in a low, dangerous voice.
“Smile.”
Shaaa—
A chilling aura spread through the hall with Aslan's single word. As her gleaming eyes swept across the room, everyone finally forced a cheerful atmosphere and tried to liven things up.
“Hahaha!”
“Y-yes, that’s right. The Family Head is correct.”
“Aish, what can we do.”
“Since Lady Freya is here as well, let’s all make a toast!”
Only then did Aslan’s angry expression soften into a grin.
“There, that’s more like it. Now, everyone, raise your glasses. Cheers!”
There was no toastmaster or long-winded speech. At Aslan’s cry, everyone raised their glasses high. As people who fought on the front lines against magical beasts, they didn’t sip; they drained their glasses in one go.
And so the banquet began.
The stiff atmosphere gradually loosened as wine and food were served and pleasant music began to play. Soon, the hall was filled with boisterous noise.
Ciel sat beside me, quietly cutting and eating her meat, while Freya, next to her, was being troubled by a barrage of questions from the family elders. They were asking things like whether the engagement was back on, when they would get married, and if she was really okay with being engaged again to a guy like Roen.
They were getting way ahead of themselves.
Aslan, seemingly in high spirits, draped an arm over my shoulder, feigning drunkenness.
“Keke, anyway, this big sister is in a great mood. The Chairman had a lot of praise for you, you know.”
“……”
“That old man has a way with flattering words, but I’m capable enough to tell truth from fiction. Looks like you’ve stopped your troublemaking and finally come to your senses, huh?”
“Something like that.”
Not all of my exploits at the Union had been reported, but it seemed Aslan had heard enough to know the gist of it.
“It’s a good change. By the way, you still have to attend the succession training, right? You agreed to it, after all.”
“……”
Aslan suddenly brought up succession training. When I tilted my head in confusion, she frowned.
“Why are you playing dumb? You agreed to take the succession training in exchange for me making you the Student Council President.”
So that was the deal.
I knew Roen had become the Student Council President thanks to Aslan’s influence, but I had no idea there was this kind of backroom deal involved. But succession training?
Typically, titles are passed down through direct lineage.
The Devalis family would one day be led by Aslan’s descendants. If she had no heir, I would have to take over, but was there really a need for me to start training now?
Seeing my unenthusiastic reaction, Aslan sighed deeply and said, “Roen. I’m a person who could die at any moment. The battlefield, where life and death are decided by the tip of a sword or a single footstep, is where I live. That’s what it means to fight magical beasts on the front lines. We need to select a successor in advance.”
Clink—
As Aslan set down her wine glass, I asked, “Then couldn’t you just not go to the front lines?”
I knew very well that Aslan led from the front, fighting at the vanguard herself. But what kind of commander fights at the very front every single day? Just as Aslan said, the battlefield was the boundary between life and death—a dangerous place where anything could happen. It might be to boost the soldiers’ morale, but there had to be a limit. Frankly, it was a miracle she was still alive.
Aslan shrugged and said, “If I, the commander, don’t go out there, who will follow me? At the very least, House Devalis has no need for a ruler who only seeks to preserve their own life from the rear.”
Pour—
Aslan filled my glass with wine and continued.
“You’ll understand this one day. You have to. But before that, there are a few things you need to learn. Crossen.”
“Yes, Family Head.”
At Aslan’s command, a loyal-looking knight stepped forward.
“During this vacation, take Roen under your wing and work him hard. At least until he qualifies as a centurion. The final goal is to develop him to the point where he can take charge of and defend a section of the wall.”
“As you command.”
“You weren’t expecting some stuffy theoretical studies just because I called it succession training, were you?”
At Aslan’s question, I slowly nodded my head.
“Of course not.”
Generally, a family head needs to understand various duties such as the territory’s tax revenue, resource output, food production, and the management of troops. Depending on the situation, diplomatic skills—like exerting political influence over vassal families and maintaining good relations with neighboring powers—would also be important.
However, for the head of House Devalis, abilities and qualities befitting a competent war commander were far more crucial than any of those things. After all, House Devalis was in a constant state of war with magical beasts.
Well, this is better for me anyway.
It was better to be moving and fighting than sitting at a desk listening to boring lectures.
“I prefer practical experience over theory myself.”
When I readily accepted, Aslan grinned.
“Good, that’s the spirit. Crossen, test Roen’s skills first thing tomorrow and assign him to your unit. Work him hard.”
“Understood, Family Head.”
Just as the knight named Crossen bowed his head in response to Aslan—
Clink—
I set down my fork and knife and wiped my mouth with a napkin.
“There’s no need to wait until tomorrow.”
“Hm?”
I smiled at the puzzled Aslan.
“The skill test. I’m fine with doing it right now. I’ll fight that knight, Crossen, immediately.”