Chapter 84
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 84
Waking up was a fickle thing. Sometimes, snapping out of a terrifying nightmare brought a profound wave of relief; other times, a foul dream left a lingering, bitter taste in the mouth. Then there were the mornings where one desperately tried to fall back asleep, unwilling to let a sweet dream slip away.
But without a doubt, the greatest way to wake was to open one's eyes naturally after a deep, dreamless slumber. Completely free of fatigue.
That was exactly how Rickert opened his eyes. The cheerful chirping of birds tickled his ears. Why was this bed so incredibly comfortable? And that scent... it felt as if he had finally come home.
Home? Wait a minute.
The first thing he saw was the wall, but as he turned his head, a very familiar ceiling came into view. It lacked a fancy chandelier or any grand decorations, but the way the stones fit together and the rugged shape of the ceiling supports were unmistakable.
It wasn't an inn. It wasn't the Ehrenberg branch building. It certainly wasn't his quarters in the imperial palace of Nibelungen.
This was his room in Stormherz.
Huh?
Rickert sat up. Looking around, the room felt a bit empty without his old personal belongings cluttering the space, but it was undeniably his room. Was he dreaming after all this time?
He quickly realized it wasn't a dream. Because right beside him, Marie was fast asleep.
She lay on her side, hands clasped together and pressed close to her chest, breathing as softly as a baby. However, her nightgown was somewhat sheer. Rickert squeezed his eyes shut and quickly turned his head away.
Just as stray thoughts began to cloud his mind, his final memories rushed back, instantly snapping his attention to the reality of his situation.
After winning the finals, his vision had spun so wildly that he couldn't process what was happening. He thought he might have heard a scream, but his memory cut off right there. Deducing from the circumstances, it was obvious Marie had dragged his unconscious body all the way back to Stormherz.
The Emperor possessed direct crown lands surrounded by satellite fiefs, making the distance between Nibelungen and Stormherz close in one sense, yet quite far in another.
The House of Caldebern traced its roots back to the reign of the sixth emperor, Martelus II, when Caldebert was granted a fief for his military achievements. Naturally, the Emperor couldn't just conjure land out of thin air, so he had carved out a piece of his own crown lands to bestow.
In other words, the fief of the County of Caldebern was one of the imperial family's satellite territories—simultaneously near and far from the capital. It was a blessing that Marie had secured a carriage; on foot, the journey would have taken at least three days.
Rickert's family had branched off from the main County of Caldebern line through partible inheritance, settling down in Stormherz, a quiet corner of the fief. They shared the Caldebern name, and their registered domain was Stormherz. They shared the exact same lineage as the Count's family, and since his eldest brother, Grout, had married a daughter of the Count's house, they were practically one massive family despite operating as two separate households.
They even had a formal covenant stating that if one bloodline died out, the other would inherit the house. Naturally, the Count's house acted as the main branch, but theirs wasn't a strict master-servant dynamic. Still, they generally deferred to the Count's decisions out of respect.
It was a bit of a tangled web, but to outsiders, it simply looked like the standard relationship between a Count and a vassal Baron. On the inside, they were just family.
The most important detail, however, was that Marie had unknowingly fled straight toward the lands of the Caldebern family and miraculously bumped into Abelich, who had been patrolling the fief's borders.
It was nothing short of a gift from the heavens. A true miracle.
Even though Marie hadn't specifically intended to bring him here, Rickert couldn't help but think she was incredibly wise. It was a very pleasant misunderstanding.
Rickert took a moment to calm his morning arousal, slipped out of bed, and pushed open the wooden shutter window, propping it up with a support stick. Fresh, crisp morning sunlight poured into the room, and his beloved hometown unfolded before his eyes.
Savory white smoke plumed from the chimneys of the village houses. He could see the fief's residents already hard at work threshing in the early morning light, having just wrapped up the autumn harvest.
The cool autumn air brushed against his skin. Rickert unconsciously went to take a deep, refreshing breath, but caught himself halfway. A sharp, needle-like pain viciously pierced his chest.
"Ugh!"
Rickert clutched his chest, his face twisting into a grimace. The poison.
He tried taking another shallow, cautious breath. Normal breathing was fine, but inhaling deeply triggered a violent spike of pain. It was a truly vicious poison—one that perfectly matched the deep malice of the person who had used it.
But he didn't despair. Just waking up alive was a miracle in itself. Since there was nothing he could do to fix his lungs right this second, he pushed the grim thought out of his mind.
Seeing Marie huddle herself against the sudden chill of the room, Rickert gently closed the window. He walked back over and carefully tucked the blanket around her shoulders.
Just then, the heavy wooden door creaked open, and someone stepped inside. It was his sister-in-law, Eileen.
"Oh my, sorry."
"Huh? Oh, no. It's not what you think..."
Click.
Before he could even properly greet her or stammer out an excuse, his sister-in-law shut the door tight.
Rickert debated chasing after her to explain the sheer nightgown and the shared bed, but ultimately decided against it. It didn't really matter if she misunderstood at this point.
Still, it was deeply embarrassing. What a spectacular way to return home after all these years.
His father had likely gone out on his morning patrol, and his eldest brother had probably left to inspect the fief's borders as well.
He suddenly found himself wondering how his second brother, Vilter, was doing. But since Vilter was stationed at the literal edge of the world, getting any news was a monumental task. He could only pray to the heavens that his brother was safe and well.
It had been three long years since he last set foot in this house. Now that he was finally back, even his empty room felt different. The precious memories of his childhood seemed to breathe life into the stone walls. Nothing had changed here. A profound sense of peace washed over him.
He didn't need a book to read or chores to distract him; simply looking around the room and letting the nostalgia wash over him was enough to keep boredom at bay.
He found himself smiling for no reason. He missed his mother, worried about Vilter, and wondered just how much his little nephew had grown. He even thought of the hardy people of the fief, including Butch.
"Reminiscing about the old days?"
Marie, who had quietly woken up at some point, asked from the bed. She was lying on her side, the blanket pulled all the way up to her chin.
"Oh. Yeah, I guess so."
"Your father seemed like a good man."
"He's a man of few words. Did you see my brother? Or my sister-in-law?"
"I saw them briefly when we arrived. We didn't get to talk much."
"Really? Hmm... Want me to show you around the fief?"
"Yes."
Rickert washed up quickly with the cold water left in the basin and changed into the clean, neatly folded clothes someone had left out for him. They seemed to belong to his brother, as they fit his frame perfectly.
His meteoric iron sword was completely shattered, leaving him with nothing but his trusty dagger. It felt exactly like the day he had first left this place to carve out his own path.
Even though the meteoric iron sword was broken, the material itself was incredibly rare. He could have taken the shards to a master smithy to be reforged, or at least sold the scraps for a small fortune. It was a shame he'd lost it, but he wasn't going to dwell on it.
Marie dressed in a practical blue dress that clearly belonged to his sister-in-law. Because Marie was noticeably taller, the fit was a bit awkward. The hem, which was designed to reach the calves, ended just above her knees.
It didn't matter if it wasn't a perfect fit. This was the countryside; fashion trends held zero power here.
Once Marie tied her long hair up in a neat bun and finished her simple grooming, Rickert moved to step out of the room with her.
But before he could open the door, Marie called out.
"Wait."
"Huh?"
When Rickert turned around, Marie grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him in for a deep kiss. There was no hesitation or shyness left between them; it felt as natural as breathing.
They pulled back, looking into each other's sparkling eyes, and shared a warm smile.
Opening the door, they stepped out into the hall. Since the manor wasn't particularly massive, the hallway was short. They headed straight for his sister-in-law's room to properly greet her.
Eileen was sitting by the window, sewing, while his nephew squirmed beside her. The boy was dressed entirely in girl's clothing.
Dressing young boys in girls' clothes was a deeply ingrained local tradition and superstition. It was believed to trick evil spirits, warding off childhood illnesses and ensuring a long, healthy life. Naturally, Rickert had been subjected to the exact same treatment until he turned five.
Up until the age of ten, boys simply wore whatever hand-me-downs were available. But from ten onward, they transitioned to proper boys' clothes. From that day on, they were expected to be manly and pull their own weight in the fief.
And Rickert had certainly done just that—pulling his own weight, and then some.
"Sister-in-law, I'm going to take Marie out to see the fief."
Eileen looked up, a sly glint in her eye. "Oh? Finished already?"
"What? Finished what? No, that's not..."
His sister-in-law just smiled knowingly. No matter how much he denied it, she wasn't going to believe him.
She nudged the squirming toddler. "Say hello. This is your second uncle."
His three-year-old nephew immediately hid behind his mother's skirts, peeking out with only half his face visible, and offered a clumsy, quick bow. He seemed far more shy than actually scared.
"Greet him properly," Eileen coaxed.
"H-hello. I'm Fwitzwit."
His nephew's actual name was Fritzrit. Since he had only recently started stringing words together, his pronunciation was adorably flawed.
"Hey there. You can call me Uncle Ricky."
"And I'm Marie. I'm going to be your aunt soon."
Marie boldly introduced herself without missing a beat. It wasn't a lie, after all. She was officially betrothed to the winner of the grand swordsmanship tournament, and Rickert was the one left standing.
Besides, the family had already been given a brief rundown of the chaotic situation yesterday, so they knew exactly who Marie was.
Only Rickert felt a bit self-conscious about the blunt introduction.
"Are you feeling alright?" Eileen asked, her teasing tone softening into genuine concern.
Not wanting to cause unnecessary worry, Rickert deliberately left out the fact that his lungs were currently in agonizing shape.
"Yes, don't worry about me."
"What about food? I should at least head to the kitchens and prepare a proper meal for my future sister-in-law."
"Hahaha..."
"I'm fine. Ricky will feed me," Marie chimed in happily.
"Oh my, how scandalous."
"What? S-scandalous?"
"I'm just teasing you. Ever since he was a little boy, Young Master Ricky has always managed to sniff out food and feed himself no matter where he went."
Eileen clearly wanted to keep poking fun at him. They hadn't been quite this close in the past, but now that Rickert had grown into a formidable man, she seemed entirely comfortable speaking her mind around him. She had a surprisingly playful side.
Perhaps she had always wanted to be friends with Vilter and Rickert once they grew up. Back then, they had just been too young.
"Father and my husband will be back from their patrols around evening. You know the rules, right?"
No matter what was happening, the entire family was expected to gather at the table for dinner.
"Of course. We'll be back well before dinner."
With that, he took Marie's hand and led her out of his brother's quarters. There wasn't much to see in the castle's defensive stone towers, so Rickert bypassed them and headed straight for the bustling courtyard.
Outside, the village women were hurrying about, carrying baskets and various supplies. Because Stormherz was a rural, practical fief, the ruling family didn't employ a massive staff of dedicated, uniformed servants. Instead, the local women came up to the manor to help with the daily chores in exchange for coin and goods.
If they were ever short-handed, even the Lord's wife would roll up her sleeves, grab a pitchfork, and help shovel manure or carry heavy sacks of grain. That was just the kind of place Stormherz was.
"Young Master!"
"Hello."
"My goodness, look how much you've grown! And your bride is absolutely beautiful."
No one in the world disliked being called beautiful. A bright, blooming smile spread across Marie's face.
"You're beautiful too, ma'am."
"Hohoho, you certainly know how to flatter an old woman."
"More importantly, is there anything to eat?" Rickert asked, rubbing his stomach.
"You're not sitting down for a proper meal? You really haven't changed a bit, have you? Still scavenging for snacks here and there. We just churned some fresh butter. The bread was baked not too long ago, so it won't be hard as a rock."
"I don't just scavenge anything. Thanks, we'll head over to the pantry," Rickert said with a laugh.
Heading into the cool, stone-lined pantry, they easily found the freshly delivered butter and the large, crusty loaves of bread.
He sliced a thick piece of bread with his dagger, handed it to Marie, and used the blade to spread a generous, thick layer of rich butter over the crumb. Grabbing a crisp apple for each of them, they finally left the courtyard behind.
They strolled leisurely through the fief, happily munching on their rustic breakfast. Houses with thatched roofs were scattered here and there, and the vast fields, having just been harvested, looked like closely cropped heads of hair.
Autumn brought a literal mountain of chores, so every single person they passed seemed incredibly busy. Yet, despite the hard labor, they all looked cheerful, their spirits lifted by the comforting abundance of the recent harvest.
"I'm jealous," Marie said softly as they walked side by side down the dirt path.
"Hmm? Of what?"
"Everyone here likes you so much."
"When I was little, everyone used to call me 'Gentle Young Master Ricky.' I guess I was just a really well-behaved kid. I didn't throw tantrums, I rarely cried, and I never caused any real trouble."
"Really? That's completely different from how you are now."
"Why? How am I now?"
"You're incredibly stubborn."
"You're one to talk. But we match well, don't we?"
"We do."
It was funny how two wildly stubborn people could get along so seamlessly. But then again, they weren't just blindly obstinate for the sake of it. They were usually gentle and accommodating, only becoming unyielding walls of iron when they made a major, life-altering decision.
"There's a spot in the hunting grounds just over that ridge where I used to play when I was a kid. Let's go."
"Okay."
Rickert and Marie walked hand-in-hand through fields dotted with late-blooming autumn flowers, eventually stepping into the shade of the forest. Before long, the sound of a babbling brook reached their ears. This was the exact spot where he had built a secret hideout and played at being a knight with the neighborhood boys.
To his absolute surprise, the hideout was still standing. Since it was the peak of harvest season, all the village children were busy helping their parents in the fields, so the woods were quiet and empty.
A crude, charming little hut made of branches and twine stood nestled snugly between two massive, ancient trees. Looking at it now, it was so tiny that Rickert would have to curl himself into a tight ball just to squeeze through the entrance.
"I guess the kids around here still play like this."
Even as he spoke the words, a warm, genuine smile spread across Rickert's face.
"When I used to play here, my eldest brother would come find me around sunset and carry me home on his shoulders. We'd walk back together, watching the sun sink below the golden fields."
The memories of those simple days felt so incredibly vivid. His second brother, Vilter, would always whine and beg to be carried too, only to pout furiously when their eldest brother refused, claiming Vilter was getting too heavy. Later on, Vilter would try to prove his strength by offering to carry Rickert on his own shoulders, only to completely fail to stand up under the weight, sending them both tumbling into the dirt.
Rickert felt a deep, comforting warmth in his chest, but it was accompanied by a sharp tinge of sadness. It was pure nostalgia—a deep, aching yearning for the past. Even though he had finally returned home, those carefree days of childhood would never come back.
"Let's go over there."
"Okay."
Marie happily followed wherever Rickert led, quietly walking through the footsteps of his past. Since Rickert was usually so guarded and rarely spoke of his hometown or his family, even these simple, mundane sights felt incredibly special to her.
Having grown up in a household that was not just bleak but actively cruel and harsh, this warm, rustic place seemed all the more extraordinary. It was no wonder her only true wish in life had been to escape and find freedom.
She felt a spark of genuine envy for Rickert's upbringing, but at the same time, she found herself drawn to him even more fiercely. Experiencing the remnants of his happy childhood, even indirectly, made her truly believe that they could build a happy life together. Having children of their own, raising them in a place like this, growing old together, and eventually facing the end—it all seemed like a future filled with nothing but happiness.
And so, Rickert and Marie spent the entire day wandering around the lands of Stormherz. When their legs grew tired, they found a soft patch of grass and rested; when their stomachs rumbled, they were eagerly treated to hot soup or hearty stew by the villagers; and they warmly greeted the familiar faces Rickert hadn't seen in years.
Every single person they met beamed with bright, genuine smiles upon seeing Rickert. There was no trembling fear or stiff awkwardness toward him as a noble; they all treated him like he was their own son or younger brother returning from a long trip. To Marie, watching this dynamic play out was fascinating. It felt almost like a dream.
Rural, isolated areas were naturally insular and possessed a fiercely strong sense of community. If things went poorly, that isolation could turn a village stagnant and rotten, but in Stormherz's case, their bond and solidarity were incredibly strong and pure.
On the flip side, because they were so isolated from the capital's politics, even though Rickert had gained immense, terrifying fame in the outside world, the villagers had only heard vague bits and pieces. They simply assumed their Young Master Ricky was out there doing well for himself.
For these people, the only thing that truly mattered was maintaining their peaceful way of life.
Rickert actually preferred it that way. Being treated exactly as he had always been treated was the greatest comfort he could ask for.
The people of Stormherz only wished to work hard enough to never worry about their next meal. They helped each other in times of brutal hardship as if the burden belonged to everyone, and they answered the Lord's call to duty without hesitation when war broke out. They were simple, yet incredibly resilient people.
Perhaps being raised among these very people had played a major role in shaping Rickert's unyielding character. In his previous life, he had chased death aimlessly, his heart hollow, too busy just trying to survive on his own to appreciate anything else.
Before they knew it, the sky began to turn a brilliant shade of orange as the sun began to set. On their way back to the manor, Rickert suddenly stopped, squatted down, and patted his broad shoulders. He looked up at Marie.
"Hop on."
Marie let out a soft, surprised chuckle, but her eyes sparkled with amusement. Without a single word of refusal, she stepped forward and climbed onto his back, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Rickert stood up in one smooth, swift motion, rising as easily as if he couldn't feel her weight at all.
"Kyaah! You should have warned me you were going to stand up so fast!"
Marie almost lost her balance, but managed to steady herself by grabbing a fistful of Rickert's hair. Rickert just laughed loudly, his voice echoing through the quiet trees as he carried her back toward the castle.
The brilliant sunset casting long shadows over the golden autumn fields—it was, without a doubt, a perfect day.