Chapter 48
Chapter 48
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 048
Chapter Title: Farewell, Brennenton (1)
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Pour.
Amid the rich aroma of tea, the brothers came face-to-face.
"It's been two years. Not that long, but in a way, it feels like an eternity."
"It's what we experienced during that time that matters."
Their calm conversation carried heavy undertones.
"I admit it. We spent the same time, heading to the same place, but our experiences were worlds apart. It wasn't pleasant."
"The last time we saw things the same way was when we were kids."
"Yeah, those were the days."
In their childhood, the brothers and sisters had run wild through Brennenton, claiming it was too small for them. As the eldest, he had been the leader—and a little tyrant. Back then, it had felt as natural as the order of things.
"Heh heh heh. Sorry for being such a brat back then."
Lloyd apologized to his little brother, who had grown so much.
"There's no need to apologize for the fun times we had running around. Aren't those memories the one pure, selfless gift we gave each other?"
"Yeah, you're right."
Those days would never return after they had turned blades on one another.
An awkward silence settled in.
A moment later, the younger brother broke it by setting down his empty cup.
"Over the past year on the battlefield, I've seen countless deaths. Some of them died in my place."
"I see."
"......"
Arun continued after a brief silence.
"It was only after losing them that I realized how precious they were."
"That's a shame."
"It truly was heartbreaking."
Lloyd's emotionless reply shook Arun instead.
"Isn't it ridiculous? A family line completed only by killing one's own siblings."
"That's the fate of the royals, isn't it?"
"Sigh."
After a long sigh, Arun pressed on.
"My dear friends proved their loyalty with their deaths. So how should I prove mine to you?"
"What are you trying to say?"
Lloyd swallowed hard as he pondered the meaning.
Arun stared at him with emotionless eyes.
"I knew our ending would come down to one of us dying. But seeing those deaths up close terrified me. So believe me when I say I've given up."
"Given up completely? Fine. What's the price?"
His half-brother's outright declaration of surrender thrilled Lloyd.
"No price. I know full well it's impossible to increase support any further."
"None? I heard you were summoned to the capital. Trying to ask me for lobbying help?"
"Surely you don't think I'd stoop to shaking down a border earl for money. Don't worry—I have my own plans."
"I heard the Hasselдорf lot is picking a fight. How about blocking their supply lines from the main house?"
Lloyd boasted that he knew everything and could handle it. But Arun just shook his head.
"You're saying you'll come under me with no conditions?"
"You've misunderstood."
Arun's eyes remained ice-cold.
"Did you dream of some fairy tale where the brother who conceded the competition helps his elder and devotes himself to the family? Assassinating you right here in this private meeting feels far more realistic."
"B-Brother. How can you say something so horrific?"
"Don't you get it yet? I've won the loyalty of Westguard. You think you'd take me in? Would your vassals even allow it?"
"Ah."
The mid-level retainers would never welcome someone far superior to them.
"It's more beneficial for both of us to stay at odds."
Lloyd looked like he'd been slapped.
"......You're saying we should deliberately keep the tension?"
"You become the head of Brennenton like this, and I live out my days as Westguard's lord, fighting orcs forever. How's that?"
"We can't divide the territory. The North must remain one."
"Even if Brennenton unites, the profits won't all go to you."
"What do you mean—"
Lloyd van Brennenton raised his voice.
In that instant, visions of his uncles and cousins on his side, their fiefs and merchant interests, flashed through his mind. The stipends for the knights and soldiers he had to provide weighed on his chest.
The only way to quell that endless strife was division and tension, just as his brother said.
"Maintaining power through mutual hatred... How cruel."
"That's my final—and only—proposal."
Arun rose from his seat.
"I'll leave at dawn. Announce to your vassals that you've exiled me. It'll help rally them more."
"......"
"Farewell, then."
"You're just going to say your piece and leave? What kind of talk is this, Arun! Arun!"
He'd been informed through Benjamin, but hearing it directly was different. It should have been said before the family, after aligning mouths first.
"You always make things complicated."
Left alone, Lloyd clutched his head.
Arun's expression was one of relief.
'This fulfills my duty to the Brennenton family.'
He had done enough in his past life and now in this new one. Even the real Arun inside, who occasionally showed his emotions, seemed to agree with no reaction.
Stepping out of the mansion, he bid farewell to his past.
"My time as Westguard's loyal knight ends here."
The old knight's loyalty concluded that way.
His shadow stretched long in the moonlight and vanished, and the mansion's lights went out.
In the darkened study, Lloyd remained, propping his chin on his clasped hands.
"You're really going to let him go?"
"......"
His adjutant asked from the shadows, and Lloyd's eyes wavered.
Arun was right. But he had overlooked one thing: unlike Arun, who had risen through his own efforts, Lloyd had grown by the needs of the family elders.
"I need to meet the family elders—no, my father-in-law first."
"Right now?"
"Yes, now."
The door soon closed, and silence fell.
The next day, rumors spread through the castle.
The noble family's half-brothers could not stay together forever. The grown eldest took the house, the sisters left for marriages, and the youngest was exiled—the usual tale.
Thus, Arun officially separated from the family.
Clop, clop.
"Yawn. I thought you'd rest a few days."
Yains glanced slyly at Arun, yawning widely.
"Well, with all your assets sold off, no lingering attachments, I suppose."
"Mother's gone, sisters are married. As for the profit-hungry uncles and the ailing father..."
"Father's a tough one."
Yains agreed with a wry smile.
"Why push onto his son what he couldn't achieve himself? That's a form of violence, violence. Makes me mad just thinking about it."
"Heh heh heh."
Seeing Arun laugh eased Yains's expression.
"So, what's your take?"
"It was something I had to do eventually. Who knew the journey to the capital would help with this?"
"My family wasn't all that harmonious either, but congrats on the clean exile with no fights."
"I hope it stays that way..."
Trailing off, Arun glanced at some spot in the woods by the road.
Benjamin followed his lord's gaze but detected nothing unusual and relaxed.
Clop, clop.
Schmidt, following behind, let out a sigh that could sink the earth.
"Sigh."
"You'll cave the ground in. What's troubling you?"
Benjamin pulled his horse close and asked.
"Is morning training too harsh? You'll adapt soon enough."
"The training's manageable."
"Manageable?"
Benjamin's eyes widened in surprise. Running nearly a full sprint for 1km was close to abuse. Sparring was skipped for the kid, but it was still tough.
"It's similar to my old squire lessons, and above all, being taught by you is an honor."
"Good. But why the sigh?"
"It hit me that growing up isn't just about getting older. You said a man is someone who shoulders responsibility, right?"
"Indeed."
Benjamin nodded, leaning forward on his horse.
"I realized sometimes you have to cut things off decisively."
"Schmidt."
"Yes, Sir Benjamin."
"Kids should worry about kid things. Adult worries can wait till you're grown."
"Sigh."
Schmidt sighed deeply again.
"It's just... I have six younger brothers."
"......!"
"I have to build enough wealth to share, but even surviving alone will be tough. Even if I succeed somehow, I'm worried about the greedy third and fifth."
"Sigh."
This time, the sigh came from Benjamin. He shook his head, patted Schmidt's shoulder, and turned his horse.
People carry worries fitting their life paths. Even if solutions weren't visible, time resolved most.
The journey continued, laden with the group's concerns.
That night, by the campfire, the complaints flowed.
"Faster than expected, but we're only halfway. Who knows when we'll get orders, reinforcements, drive out the orcs, and reclaim the fief."
Yains sighed and added more wood.
"I should have met her. Asked her to wait longer."
"I should have explained properly to Father. I think my impatience disappointed him—it hurts."
"Embarrassing, complaining in front of you, who has the most worries."
"Ah."
All eyes turned to Arun.
"Funny thing—most worries come from being too weak."
He brushed off his seat and stood.
"Small worries get buried under big ones, and big ones can't be solved easily. If you can, you smash through."
"Worries with strength? Fresh take. Where are you going?"
"Just loosening up. Keep watch."
Gathering his sword, he headed into the woods.
"L-Lord?"
"Something wrong? He doesn't look right."
"No idea. Best to follow orders."
"Agreed. He's the strongest among us anyway. Makes me ashamed—who's helping whom here?"
The three checked their arms and waited.
Mid-May, the southern Brennenton woods were eerily silent, not a cricket chirping.
Rustle.
Arun pushed through the underbrush.
How far had he gone? An impossibly wide clearing appeared in the forest. A silhouette stood there, backlit by the moon.
"How did you know to come?"
"A bright moonlit night with no bug sounds means someone's watching. If you noticed, it was an invitation, right?"
"Impressive. I didn't expect this much growth."
Arun smirked inwardly—he'd half-doubted it.
"You know me? Care to give your name?"
"Win, and you'll find out."
Shing.
The duel to the death began at once.
Swoosh.
The opponent's sword sliced Arun's collar.
'Fast. His skill's not below mine.'
Swish.
Arun sidestepped the vertical slash. The gap was a hand's breadth. Over ten exchanges flew by in seconds, but Arun stuck to defense.
The foe stepped back momentarily and adjusted his mask.
"Not attacking?"
"You giving me an opening?"
Shing.
Arun drew his sword.
Swoosh.
"Urk."
Arun's blade was a fraction faster. The opponent was tiring too.
Slash.
"Gah!"
Arun's sword moved precisely where he wanted, without waste. That simplicity was an uncrossable chasm.
As time passed, the foe became drenched in blood.
"Huff, huff."
Then his scent hit—sweet, intense pea fragrance amid the now-familiar swordsmanship, stirring memories.
"Zephyr! Zephyr Forleang!"
"Huff, huff. No need to pretend you know me."
Discarding lingering attachment, he lunged.
"Pretend?"
Clang.
Arun parried Zephyr's swing, pulling it aside.
"Your sword lessons were my sole joy as a child."
Bam.
Zephyr lost balance to Arun's shoulder charge and tumbled.
Flat on his back, the unmoving figure's stomach heaved.
"Get up, Zephyr. See how much your young pupil has grown."
"Huff, huff. I've... seen enough. Now..."
He tried rising but collapsed.
"No regrets left. Please end it."
"You... this..."
Removing his mask, Zephyr knelt and bowed his head—as if begging for the blade.
"Very well. My teacher, my childhood memory—let's end it here."
Arun gripped his sword tighter.
Then the bushes stirred.
Rustle.
"Eek."
"What is it? Ah! My lord."
Seeing his group, spooked by his killing intent, Arun halted.
The flowing time restored his reason.
"So this guy's your swordmaster? And a hidden family assassin—news to me?"
"......"
Arun crossed his arms. He pondered what the original Arun would have done to the main house trying to assassinate him.
"What now?"
"What would you do?"
Yains looked at him like, why ask that?
"Obviously, hit him back since he swung first."
"Yeah, that's right."
He headed to where the horses were tied.