The Flower Blooming on the Cliff
The title A Flower Blooming on the Cliff introduces three war heroes. Unusually, they’re all women. In most stories with this setup they’d be men, the so-called “sub male leads” who usually end up entangled with the protagonist. Anyway.
The second part of the original novel begins about four years after the Species War, and that’s the problem. They haven’t exactly been idle in the meantime. So I have to start moving now. Especially the Glachels. Their household is teetering on the edge of collapse; they need a helping hand immediately.
Her friends are war heroes. The protagonist’s wife is the crown princess. There are plenty of people who could help, yet she never asked for any. The “just do it for me” mindset. Of course everyone was struggling. A lot of places had already turned her down, so I understand why she kept her mouth shut. She probably didn’t want to burden her friends either. That mix of not wanting to impose but secretly hoping someone would step up anyway had left her heart rotting. On top of that, society’s tendency to view her as a monster delivered the finishing blow.
I wonder if this is really the right approach, but the details don’t matter much. I don’t need to worry about plausibility. The core fact is that these events lead to her corruption. That’s what counts. I came all this way to stop exactly that. Because she begged to be saved.
“The atmosphere here is really heavy, huh?” the coachman muttered, glancing around.
“Yeah.” I nodded while still lying down. Every person visible along the road looked utterly drained. They were practically at the level of war refugees. Yet even in those exhausted faces, a faint spark of hope glittered—like people who had crawled back from the brink of death.
“Tsk. Even if you sell your house for the country, it all seems pointless. Just look at everyone…” The coachman clicked his tongue. He spoke treasonous words without a hint of fear.
“It’s a bit different. What matters is whether the country is worth risking your life for.”
“Oh… you think so?”
“Of course. The late emperor understood the nobility of sacrifice. The timing was just unfortunate.”
Why? Because I’d spent more than a few private moments cursing the emperor myself.
“Ah, you mean people like the count or young master?” the coachman asked with a smile. Was he trying to butter me up here?
“Stop sucking up. You’ll wear yourself out.”
“If it’s you, young master, I could suck in a very real way.”
I shook my head slightly and shut my mouth. I’m not gay.
“By the way, young master. We’re almost there, yet you’re still lying down. Even if they’ve fallen, they’re still viscounts. Shouldn’t you get up?”
“…You should’ve said that first.”
I opened my closed eyes and slowly sat up. I could wipe the sleep from my eyes and change clothes after borrowing a room. This was enough.
The carriage that had been rolling slowly came to a stop. The other wagons did the same.
“Young master! Young master…!” A sturdy coachman came running from the front. I’d seen his face often enough to recognize him, but I couldn’t quite remember his name. Johnson? Or was it Dick? I sat on the edge of the luggage cart and waited for him.
“Yeah. What is it?”
“V-Viscount Glachel has come out to greet you personally. I think you should go see him.” The coachman was panting but still delivered the message clearly.
The viscount himself came out to greet me? That level of treatment was usually reserved for great benefactors or the emperor. Ah. I’m the benefactor, aren’t I? Once I thought about it, it made sense. Saving someone’s life naturally earned this kind of reception. My clothes were a bit shabby, but it couldn’t be helped. I couldn’t make someone who’d come out to welcome me wait while I changed.
“Then let’s go. Walk slowly.”
“Y-Yes, sir.”
In rofan stories, noble houses could be castles, mansions, or mansion-castles. The noble family in this story lived in a Western-style castle. Thick walls. Pencil-shaped watchtowers at every corner of the rectangular structure. The size varied according to rank. There it is.
In the distance, before the grand castle gates, I walked toward the man whose eyes sparkled at the sight of us. His clothes were expensive, of course.
“Ohhh! Welcome, welcome!” The man standing before the gates made a huge fuss. It was Viscount Glachel. He’s even using half-honorifics?
Not only the viscount but his entire family had come out. Thanks to that, I quickly matched faces to names.
“It’s been a long time. Please forgive my rudeness in greeting you without even changing out of my travel clothes.” I observed the etiquette I’d learned, making it clear I wasn’t trying to disrespect him.
“Not at all. Think nothing of it. Still… why are you wearing clothes that even commoners might refuse?” The viscount smiled and nodded. His personality wasn’t gloomy even if his thinking was flawed, so he was easy to deal with.
“I grew used to these clothes during the Species War. They’re comfortable, too.”
“Ah! I understand.”
“Thank you. More importantly, how should we distribute the supplies? It seems inefficient to unload everything into the castle and then redistribute it…”
“I agree with you. However, I’m ashamed to say we don’t have enough workers.” The viscount looked embarrassed. I understood completely. Feeding slaves cost money. Employing commoners was also an expense. Still, the fact that the butler remained meant there was still hope. With someone that loyal, the family could rise again anytime. The most important virtue for a ruler was the ability to win people’s hearts. Because they were human.
“There’s no need to feel ashamed. Your actions may have been excessive, but they were undoubtedly right, Viscount.”
“R-Really?” The viscount’s eyes sparkled as he looked at me. His family seemed surprised too. They’d probably expected me to mock them, so my respect caught them off guard.
“Yes. Overcoming a crisis requires altruism and sacrifice. If everyone clings to the idea of not wanting to lose out, unity becomes impossible.”
“True. Very true.”
“That said, if I may be so bold… it might have helped if you had paid a little more attention to those around you.”
“Ahem. I’ll keep that in mind.” The viscount cleared his throat with an awkward expression. Seeing him both embarrassed and proud, the mood didn’t seem bad. This was good enough.
“Anyway. What would you like to do with the supplies? If you need workers, feel free to use the people I brought.”
“Is that really all right?”
“Of course. As many as you need.” I nodded and turned around. I’d already given the order before arriving, but I drove the point home once more.
“We’re moving the supplies starting now! Follow Viscount Glachel’s commands until the work is finished!”
“Yes, sir!” The men who had lined up on both sides of the carriages answered vigorously. There were coachmen and soldiers among them. The viscount blinked at the sight, clearly surprised.
“Viscount. Please give your orders.” I quietly stepped back. It was a gesture showing that the master of this moment was the viscount. Realizing this, he nodded.
“Everyone, you’ve traveled a long way. I truly thank you. Even so, I must ask you to endure a little longer. First…”
As soon as the stage was set, the viscount issued commands swiftly. His actions might have been excessive, but the knowledge and leadership he’d honed as a viscount hadn’t disappeared. Division of zones, distribution of supplies, informing and controlling the territory’s people—everything was organized. It was nearly perfect.
“Butler, escort our honored guest inside. We can’t keep him standing forever, can we?”
“Yes, my lord.”
His consideration for me was flawless. The hospitality itself was rather shabby, but I felt no dissatisfaction. If anything, it was almost burdensome. Like a poor man offering a cup of clean water squeezed from his very soul. Or his last scrap of food.
Thanks to that, I sat facing the viscount’s family and chatted about this and that. I received thanks from them at every opportunity.
“By the way, it seems our son is quite interested in our Amelia? You’ve been staring at her since earlier.”
When the cheap tea had been drunk and the mood had sufficiently warmed, the viscountess smiled and dropped the bait. Interest? Of course I had some.
“Yes, I do.”
A normal noble would have danced around the subject or admitted it shyly, but I acknowledged it openly. The urgent situation and the constant threat of death had made me direct.
“Oh my…!” The viscountess widened her eyes and covered her mouth. Amelia, sitting beside her, reacted similarly.
“Should we give the two of you some time to talk alone?”
“I’d like that.”
“Then I’ll excuse myself right away.” The viscountess rose with a smile. Behind her crescent eyes, a predatory gleam flashed. I get the picture.
A household on the brink of ruin. A daughter treated like a monster despite the empty honor of being a war hero. In the noble marriage market, she was damaged goods. Of course the viscountess would want to clear the way when a man who showed interest appeared.
“Huh? It’s fine.”
“No, no. I have things to do as well, so talk comfortably. Now then.”
The noblewoman left with a smile. In the end, only the two of us remained.
“I’m sorry. I said something unnecessary and made things awkward.” I bowed my head first. The viscountess who had set the stage was largely at fault, but I was also responsible for scattering the bait. I had to avoid coming across as unpleasant.
“It’s all right.” Amelia shook her head as if it were nothing. I’d gotten past the big hurdle.
Amelia was flustered. She had never imagined he would openly say he was interested right to her face. It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. She had experienced it often before. She was beautiful yet powerless—an easy target. But that was all in the past. She had thought those days were over and was certain nothing like this would happen again. Because everyone feared her now.
“Are you not afraid of me?” Amelia asked honestly. It was a question whose answer should have been obvious, yet this time it felt different.
“No.”
Fortunately, Yohan lived up to her expectations. Amelia’s heart throbbed.
“Really?”
“I understand what you mean by that. However, it is only natural to show respect to a hero who fought risking her life. It is the proper thing to do.”
Yohan’s answer was honest and firm. There was no falsehood in it. He might not have been able to extend a helping hand before, but his attitude was the same as someone who respected a veteran. He had come here to survive. That fact remained unchanged, yet she could not deny that respect existed. The pity she felt was just as strong.
“Then… is it true that you are interested in me?” Amelia asked, placing a hand over her heart. The gesture that seemed to stroke her large chest caught his eye. It looked almost seductive. Whoa. They’re fucking huge.
Yohan quickly pulled his wandering mind back. Very quickly.
“Yes. I happen to like beautiful and strong women.”
“Eep…!” How could he say something like that so openly! Amelia’s cheeks flushed bright red. She was embarrassed. She had lived on the battlefield and heard every crude expression imaginable, yet she had brushed them off easily. In that harsh environment, that kind of joke was necessary to lighten the mood. But calm, straightforward affection directed at her was unfamiliar.
“However, I have no intention of proposing marriage right away or asking for a deeper relationship. My feelings aren’t that strong.”
“Pardon…?” Amelia asked, looking dumbfounded. She felt deceived. The expected next step in this situation had vanished.
“Then why…?”
“If I said something like that now and you accepted, it would be like buying the young lady with money and goods. I cannot do that to a hero.”
But the moment she heard Yohan’s answer, the dumbfounded feeling melted away like snow. So did the sense of disappointment. Disappointed? Me? Why?
For a moment, Amelia’s eyes trembled. She was stunned at herself for feeling disappointed after only a few words.