Never Mind the Heir, I’ll Focus on Healing — Chapter 79
Never Mind the Heir, I’ll Focus on Healing — Chapter 79
When I heard Stride’s story, one thing stood out to me.
It was that the dwarves living here were utterly exhausted.
Like the residents of this territory, their lives had grown harsher while their days stayed the same.
So naturally, inspiration—the desire to create—had nowhere to go but away.
Looked at from the inside, it could only be an enormous problem.
Love it or hate it, the dwarves’ livelihood came from crafting goods as blacksmiths.
The very fact that they were giving that up, or even hesitating over it, could only deal a heavy blow not just to the village but to their very lives.
But—
Lion approached it from a slightly different angle.
It was because he felt he could understand their feelings to some extent.
‘Why were they so tired?’
How could their spirits recover to the point where they could resolve to work again?
More money?
A safer daily life?
Both were valid answers.
But what mattered more than either… was probably a sense of fulfillment, I thought.
‘A situation where something I made genuinely helped someone else.’
Not a decoration carefully displayed in a home, and not a weapon swung at one’s own family either.
It also seemed they needed an actual success story.
Lion had exactly the right thing for that.
Mudu’s Tool Set.
And fortunately, Lion’s prediction proved correct.
At first, everyone was curious when they heard it was made by Mudu, who had left the village, and they were surprised that it was a set of tools rather than a weapon.
“Mudu made this?”
“But he loved making weapons more than anyone among us.”
“Heh heh… Time is a frightening thing.”
The dwarves each picked up a tool and examined it.
It was the habit of artisans.
What was the condition of the finish? What measures had been taken for the user?
And how much care had gone into it.
“This is… I see.”
“Since this young man lacks strength, he made it to reduce the weight as much as possible.”
“And yet it’s fully functional and even sturdy. He used a truly ingenious method here, didn’t he?”
They said that seeing once was better than hearing a hundred times.
Curiosity quickly became a spirit of inquiry, and because they were already accomplished artisans, it turned into realization fast.
“…Right. Why did we only think of making swords?”
“We could just make tools too, couldn’t we?”
“If not tools, we could make things people need in everyday life!”
And putting that realization into practice was even faster.
The first thing they did was rekindle the fire that had barely held onto its embers.
The forge that had only been producing wisps of smoke heated up quickly.
Soon bright red flames blazed up, delivering intense heat.
After that came smelting iron, hammering it, melting it.
Iron particles flew up, and heat rippled through, warming the surroundings.
And the first item was completed!
“Yes. This is the feeling!”
“As expected, we’re happiest when we’re making something.”
Hammering iron was the dwarves’ very instinct.
As their instinctive thirst was quenched, the dwarves’ expressions naturally brightened.
Of course, this one moment wouldn’t rekindle everyone’s hearts that had grown cold all this time.
But this one moment was enough.
The rest was work for Stride, the village chief here and Mudu’s younger brother.
“Good heavens…”
Watching the dwarf village begin to regain even a little vitality, Stride’s jaw dropped.
“I see. So that’s how it was.”
Trapped by the position of village chief, he had momentarily forgotten that these people were his relatives and neighbors.
He had only thought about how to soothe his own heart after setting down his hammer.
They must have felt exactly the same as him!
“My brother truly sent someone important. I’m sincerely grateful.”
“Think nothing of it. All I did was share the news that Mudu is doing well.”
Yes. Lion had done nothing.
He hadn’t personally picked up a hammer, nor had he encouraged them to find their strength.
He had simply delivered news of Mudu to the dwarves, shown them the tools, and handed Stride’s family the ring of memories.
“…”
Watching the scene from a distance, Clarentia tilted her head slightly.
“How intriguing.”
In truth, she didn’t understand it.
To think that something so simple could restore their vitality.
This was undoubtedly a remarkable ability.
Clarentia stared blankly at her own hands.
Having become a Sword Master, her hands were smooth, covered in soft new skin without a single callus or scar.
But these hands had been stained with many horrific things.
Monster blood and filth. Helplessness and despair.
And even the blood of her own siblings, from revenge.
Perhaps because she had experienced so much in such a short time, she had grown numb to it now.
“A ring…”
Clarentia thought about something for a moment, then touched the nape of her neck.
Her bare neck felt empty.
“What are you thinking about?”
Before she knew it, Lion had finished saying his goodbyes to the dwarf villagers and approached her.
He had been in the chief’s house, talking earnestly about something, and it seemed he had more or less wrapped things up.
“I was thinking about the hardships my territory’s residents have suffered.”
“I see.”
“I am grateful to you. Thanks to you, I learned of their grievances quickly.”
“…”
Lion smiled awkwardly.
As expected, her manner of speaking was stiff beyond belief.
Not that it was cynical, but… perhaps like a plaster statue was the right way to put it.
‘Still, it does seem she genuinely cares for her people.’
Lion recalled that night.
The night Stride had gotten blind drunk, completely out of his senses.
Marquess Clarentia had appeared suddenly.
At first, he had been a bit flustered.
“Uh… How did you come to be here?”
“I was on patrol.”
“Alone, my lady?”
“They say this too is a lord’s duty.”
“Is that so?”
“It is.”
Maybe it was because the conversation kept cutting off oddly, or because she had appeared without any escort…
But she had come because of the letter he’d written saying he’d fallen ill and might be late.
Clarentia, however, didn’t mind at all.
With one hand, she easily lifted the large man and headed toward the dwarf village.
Even with the lockdown order in effect, entering was easy thanks to the marquess’s presence and the so-called wasted village chief.
The ring Lion carried also played its part well, lowering their wariness.
“So what do you intend to do now?”
“I had originally planned to visit young master Lion to inquire after his health.”
Having finished speaking, Clarentia stared pointedly at Lion.
The meaning was clear: he didn’t look sick at all.
Instead of offering a long-winded excuse, Lion maintained the same awkward smile from moments ago.
“I do not intend to reproach you. After all, you have done a good deed.”
A good deed.
Well, from the marquess’s perspective, the dwarves regaining their vitality was certainly a good thing.
“Thank you. I shall visit you at the earliest possible date.”
Andre was a meticulous artisan with quick hands.
So by the time Lion returned to the inn, he would have finished all his work.
Which meant Lion could enter Bydantis Castle by tomorrow at the latest.
But…
Lion gazed at Clarentia’s impassive expression.
‘Just what kind of hardship had she endured…’
He didn’t understand how a person could become so worn down.
Still, if he gave her the necklace he’d obtained, it might help at least a little.
After all, it was an heirloom, a piece of her family legacy.
“Understood. I shall wait.”
Clarentia turned away without hesitation.
Since Lion had a strong attendant with him, he likely wouldn’t need further help.
Lion watched Clarentia vanish in an instant, then turned his head.
“I saw her last time too, but she seems a bit unusual, doesn’t she?”
“…”
Elvia, who had somehow appeared at Lion’s side, didn’t answer right away.
The Marquess of Bydantis was certainly unusual.
But the young master, who conversed with her so casually, couldn’t exactly be called ordinary either.
“Yes. She does seem like a truly remarkable person.”
Elvia didn’t share that thought and simply agreed.
* * *
At that moment, in Asteri Territory.
“…”
Rickshel Asteri frowned as he read the report he’d received.
“My brother must have gone through a fair bit of trouble.”
The contents were as follows.
Before Lion had even taken the Warp Gate, assailants had attacked him.
But the attack was resolved by Elvia and the specially assigned “coachman,” and the attackers were disguised as bandits and handed over to Lungen Territory.
That was likely the result of his brother taking pity on them.
“Simply killing them would have sufficed.”
They were people who had targeted his life. They weren’t worth keeping alive.
Rickshel used mana to burn the letter to ashes without a trace.
“How shall we handle this?”
“Clearly, the First Prince’s followers did this to send me a warning.”
The First Prince’s followers.
In truth, they were more dangerous than the prince himself.
They planned to use the thoughtless and dull-witted First Prince as a puppet to devour the Imperial Court of the Empire.
Whether the Emperor knew this or not, he simply looked on.
‘He must be afraid that the illegitimate son will come for his life.’
Second Prince. Kyle Sol Ionis.
The illegitimate child born from the current Emperor Tylearius’s debauched days as Crown Prince.
A man who had stubbornly clung to life, surviving assassination attempts through sheer tenacity, clawing his way up to the position of Second Prince…
and the one Rickshel had his eye on as the next Emperor.
He appeared quite frail, but at least he was sharper than the First Prince, and having crawled up from the bottom, he likely understood the lives of the empire’s people better.
Rickshel had gotten a similar impression when they actually spoke, so he intended to back the Second Prince for Emperor.
With the next heir of House Asteri siding with the Second Prince, the First Prince’s followers had grown rather impatient.
But what was this?
From the previously flawless House Asteri, a weak link named Lion Asteri had emerged.
And word had spread that Rickshel was quite devoted to his elder brother, Lion Asteri.
The result.
Naturally, their claws had reached for his brother.
He had expected it.
Both the family head and himself.
But… to actually suffer such an attack…
“How unpleasant.”
Rickshel sneered, staring at the report that was already nothing but ashes.
‘If I had possessed power as strong as the family head’s, would my brother have suffered such an absurd attack?’
Surely not.
Rickshel was undeniably a powerhouse himself.
He had mastered the 4th Circle and was glimpsing the realm of the 5th Circle.
It was almost unbelievable for a human to grow this much before reaching adulthood.
“But it seems those who are not mages cannot perceive it.”
The First Prince’s followers apparently couldn’t grasp this.
“Deal with all of them and send them back to their master.”
Rickshel pronounced, wiping his ash-stained hand with a towel.
* * *
Fortunately, as Lion had predicted, Andre completed the clothes.
Absolutely, perfectly!
“Ha ha… Ha ha ha! Perfect! Absolutely perfect! This angle! This edge! This texture! It’s in an utterly flawless state!”
Rushed by the tight deadline, he seemed to have malfunctioned a little, but it was still a relief.
“You’ve worked hard.”
“Not at all! Thanks to you, I realized my shortcomings and reinforced the clothes more cleanly, so I’m the one who should be thanking you.”
Andre bowed deeply several times in a row.
“And besides… didn’t you buy me time as well?”
“Time?”
“Though the blacksmith Mudu may have asked, there was no need for you to personally go and deliver it…!”
Was, was that so?
‘Did I overdo it?’