Episode 8

"There's no need for that, Lady Riina. My decision remains unchanged. Logan, MacLaine's honor cannot be bought with money."

"Excuse me?"

Even after all this.

Why? How?

Logan stared at his father with disbelief, but the stern expression on his face didn't waver.

And beside him—his stepmother sneering, the other retainers nodding in agreement.

The sight of it all burned into his eyes, making his head spin.

'Why the hell...?'

Fury surged within him, his chest tightening.

In noble society, choosing honor over profit wasn't necessarily frowned upon.

But...

'You have to consider the situation. Does rejecting money right now make any sense for our family's state?!'

Logan gritted his teeth internally, but his father's stance remained unshaken.

The problem didn't end there.

"Why is he acting like this?"

"It looks like he's throwing a tantrum because his pride ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠got hurt."

"Is that worth defying the Baron's orders?"

"The Grand Prince has always been a bit..."

The murmurs among the retainers were almost entirely accusations directed at him.

Riina's shamelessly apologetic expression now felt like the smug smile of a victor who had foreseen this outcome.

Only after all of it crashed down on him did Logan realize—

'I was still looking at things too naively.'

'Did I really think I could earn their recognition and change the family?'

Since when?

By slowly showing them a changed version of himself?

'We'll all be dead by then.'

A cold wind seemed to blow through his chest.

The Territorial War was just nine months away.

'Let go of what needs to be let go.'

No matter what, he had to ensure the family's survival.

First, he needed to build his own strength—independent of the family.

Clenching his teeth, he spoke.

"Lady Riina, then as the party directly affected by this annulment, I will make my demand. Regardless of the family's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stance, I will accept that compensation as an individual."

"Logan!!"

Patrick's furious roar shook the hall, a wave of violent energy crashing down on Logan from behind.

'Ghk!'

Oooom—

The Force Core embedded in his heart surged, flooding his body with power and preventing his knees from buckling.

The Divine Sword Secret Art held infinite potential, but in its current immature state, it couldn't match the might of a high-ranking knight.

Still, resisting mere pressure from aura was within his capabilities.

"I cannot be satisfied with empty apologies!"

"What did you say?!"

"If honor can be restored with mere words, then its value is just as light as those words!"

"...Are you truly defying my will?"

Patrick glared at his son with a complicated expression—whether shocked or enraged by his defiance, it was hard to tell.

"As the party affected by the annulment, I believe I have the right to make such a demand."

"The Ulvs family ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠will abide by the will of Baron MacLaine, the head of the household. What say you, Baron Patrick MacLaine?"

Seeing the situation take an unexpected turn, Riina intervened.

Though it seemed like she might accept Logan's terms, her words ultimately reinforced the authority of the family head.

'She's telling me to preserve my father's dignity.'

Logan's sharp gaze locked onto her again.

Then, after furrowing his brow in thought, Patrick spoke with a heavy expression.

"...As the representative of House MacLaine, I am satisfied with a sincere apology. However, whether Logan, as the affected party, deems that apology sufficient is his own judgment to make."

"Darling!"

"My lord?!"

Murmur, murmur.

The hall erupted into noise.

It was an answer no one had anticipated.

Riina's face, still wearing a faintly apologetic expression, twisted momentarily.

Once the clamor died down, Patrick continued.

"But think carefully, Logan. If you accept money for damaged honor, you open the door for your honor to be traded for coin again in the future."

Patrick believed that if Logan had truly changed, he would make the "right" choice at this moment.

That was why he had set aside his authority as family head—to give his son one last chance.

But Logan's resolve didn't bend.

"As the party affected by the annulment, I will accept House Ulvs' compensation."

At that declaration, Patrick's face twisted in displeasure, while his stepmother's lips curled into a sneer.

Surprisingly, Riina paid the staggering sum of 3 million gold—not through credit transfer, but in actual chests of gold coins, right then and there.

Thud.

Even Logan, who had demanded it, couldn't help but waver at the sight of the massive chests filled to waist height with gleaming coins.

"...With this, the annulment between House Ulvs and House MacLaine is hereby declared."

"I accept."

As Riina turned away after setting down the chests, her expression was visibly distorted—if only slightly.

Seeing that, Logan was certain his choice had been correct.

But his father seemed to think otherwise.

"I thought you had changed a little, but you've only grown worse."

'It's all for the family.'

"It must be my fault for failing to teach you the true value of honor."

Even faced with a mountain of gold coins—more than he'd ever seen in his life—Patrick's sigh carried only bitterness.

As he strode out of the hall, the knights following him wore mocking smiles.

Meanwhile, his stepmother trailed behind, beaming as if she had gained something.

It made Logan acutely aware of how his decision had been received within the family.

Watching them expressionlessly, he reaffirmed his resolve.

'I won't obsess over my reputation in the family. First, I have to win the Territorial War.'

But even as he calculated how to use the money for the war, a heaviness settled in his heart.

BANG!

A loud noise echoed from inside the luxurious four-horse carriage.

"Are you alright, my lady?"

Even after Rokfern's question, silence lingered in the carriage for a long moment before a reply finally came.

"...I'm fine."

"Are you angry?"

"What went wrong?"

"Pardon?"

"I was certain that if I offered an excessive amount, the Baron would refuse out of pride. My prediction was correct. And yet..."

"You didn't expect the Grand Prince to act that way."

"That money-grubbing brute..."

BANG!

Another loud noise followed, but Rokfern chose not to peer inside the carriage and instead changed the subject.

"The Grand Prince seems quite different from the rumors."

"Different how? More greedy? Or just ignorant of honor?"

"I can't speak to emotional factors. But it's certain that he's a Force User."

"...He had combat skills too?"

Riina sounded surprised, but Rokfern was firm.

"Yes. For his age, it's a remarkable achievement."

"...So he wasn't just a brute like the rumors said."

No matter how much of a genius one was, reaching the level of a Force User was impossible without effort—especially at just nineteen.

"Indeed. It couldn't have been mere rumors."

Rokfern emphasized that Logan wasn't as easy an opponent as they'd thought, hoping to console Riina—but she wasn't oblivious to his intent.

"...Even so, I was humiliated. That doesn't change."

"There was nothing to be done. We were in no position to resist, and it was enemy territory."

"Enough. Don't try to comfort me, Rokfern."

"At least you needn't concern yourself with him anymore, no? With this obstacle gone, you'll soon form ties with a far more prestigious family—"

"Hmph! Of course. But this humiliation... I'll repay it someday."

"As you wish, my lady."

The splendid carriage swiftly departed MacLaine Territory.

The day after Riina left.

House MacLaine was abuzz with the shocking news of the annulment—and rumors that the reckless Grand Prince had defied his father's orders to extort a fortune from a fairy-like beauty.

Despite being the wronged party, Logan faced condemnation rather than sympathy.

But regardless of the pointing fingers, he couldn't suppress the smile creeping onto his face.

"Finally..."

No matter how others saw it, for him, it was a moment of relief—the worst trouble of his past life had been safely avoided.

The oppressive shackles that had weighed on his soul since his regression had finally loosened.

He felt so lighthearted he could've laughed all day.

But he couldn't afford to be carefree. The thought of the looming future quickly erased his joy.

The idea of strengthening the family to overcome the crisis had shifted to 'I'll have to solve it myself.'

And with that, the burden felt a hundred times heavier.

'Stay calm. The crisis is just beginning.'

There was too much to do immediately.

He'd decided not to care about his reputation within the family, but he still had to avoid giving his father a reason to intervene directly.

He couldn't afford to cause any more open trouble within the household.

'Which means I need to act outside.'

Steeling himself, Logan reviewed what needed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to be done.

'First, I've deposited all the money with Cooper's Bank.'

Cooper's Bank, with the most branches in the Grandia Kingdom and the western Empire, even had a branch in the debt-ridden MacLaine Territory.

When making the deposit, he'd been asked if he wanted to use the money to repay loans first.

'Not a chance.'

Under the original plan, he might have.

But yesterday's experience had drastically altered his thinking.

'I need to build my own strength separately.'

Putting aside the fact that he couldn't speak about future events, the gap between his mindset and that of the family's retainers—especially his father—was painfully clear.

His idea of gradually changing things from within the family had vanished in that moment.

'I have to build power outside and bring it back. So first...'

Knock knock.

While lost in thought, planning his next steps, a knock came at the door.

"Come in."

He assumed it was Rick, but the figure who entered was unexpectedly large.

"Haha. Did you sleep well, Grand Prince?"

"Hm?"

A beard-covered face, a frame larger than most knights.

A middle-aged man with a slightly flushed face awkwardly greeted him as he stepped inside.

"Dwain?"

"Yes, my lord. It's Dwain."

Dwain Pilsner—though he looked more like a knight, he was, in fact, an administrator.

Specifically, the financial officer responsible for the family's internal affairs.

And one of Patrick MacLaine's most trusted vassals.

Which meant they weren't close enough for him to be smiling like this.

As Logan eyed him suspiciously, a commotion erupted outside the door.

"Ah! Stop pushing!"

"Hey! I was here first—"

Thud thud thud.

A group of familiar faces tumbled in after Dwain.

"Greetings, Grand Prince."

The bald man grinning brightly was Rugel Hais—the food supply officer who usually went out of his way to avoid Logan.

"Good morning, Grand Prince."

The chubby man with a friendly smile was Feran Doyle—the equipment officer who, in the past, would barely glance at Logan before hurrying away.

"Ah, these people... I was here first... Haha, good morning, Grand Prince. Did you rest well?"

The pot-bellied man wiping sweat was Rupen—the wall maintenance officer.

As far as Logan could remember, this was the first time they'd ever properly greeted him.

The others were all familiar faces from the estate—people who had previously gone out of their way to avoid him.

"My lord..."

"Greetings..."

Now, they were all vying for his attention.

It was an amusing sight.

The reason wasn't hard to guess.

"...What's all this about?"

Hiding a smirk, Logan asked indifferently.

Gulp.

'Choose your words carefully, Dwain.'

To Dwain, this moment felt like a turning point in his life.

Being MacLaine's financial officer was a grueling position.

If not for his loyalty to the family head and his roots here, he would've quit long ago.

Stretching meager budgets to keep the territory running, begging the lord's in-laws for funds—it was a miserable existence.

Sometimes, he wasn't sure if he was an administrator or the leader of beggars.

But now, if he played his cards right, he could secure years of peaceful sleep.

And his opponent was just a clueless brat.

The thought filled him with confidence.

"Hahaha. We just came to pay our respects. We were deeply impressed by your actions yesterday."

"Oh?"

"The way you stood firm against external pressure and boldly asserted yourself—truly befitting the heir of House MacLaine."

His thumbs-up was accompanied by eyes shining with admiration—the most flattering praise Dwain could muster.

But the brat's reaction wasn't what he expected.

"What kind of nonsense is this?"