A Father's Unshakable Duty
“No...? Valter, what do you mean by that?”
“I mean exactly what I said: it's not happening.”
I shot back with firm rejection in a single breath.
The envoy from the kingdom gaped like he never expected such words to come out of my mouth.
But it wasn't just him.
Here in this grand corridor where we handled official affairs, my mother—the current head of the Tak Count family, Valeria—was equally stunned.
My older sisters and little sister were the same.
What I'd just declared was a refusal of the Royal Knights' order.
Which was as good as spitting on a royal decree.
The envoy pulled off his hood.
He swept back his beautifully groomed hair and spoke.
Trivial, maybe, but it figured a woman would handle this kind of thing.
“Valter, this is a royal command. Rejecting it without just cause is a grave mistake.”
“Threaten me all you want—it changes nothing.”
“...Hah?”
“I've got just cause.”
But I was a man honed for clawing through life barefoot.
Over the past three months, I'd adapted sharply,
honing my senses to this world three hundred years in the future.
With those instincts, dodging this mess was child's play.
I cleared my throat.
To slip out of this bind, I recalled recent memories.
***
A lot had happened in those three months.
Most notably, when I got out of bed and declared I'd take up the sword,
my mother flipped her eyes back and nearly fainted in protest.
“Valter, you've already been bedridden from that carriage accident. How—how can you drive another nail into your mother's heart...?”
“Another nail? I just said I want to train with the sword. Is that such a crime?”
“In heaven's name... How can you say such a thing...? Hic...”
“Mother? Mother?!”
Turns out,
this world treated men like delicate treasures due to its wildly imbalanced gender ratio—
utterly “hands-off” from cradle to grave.
Men were drafted for sperm to propagate the bloodline, sure.
But after that? Lavish social treatment on the surface, never lifting a finger for anything rough.
That was the norm.
So most guys grew up obese, spoiled, and utterly useless.
And no one batted an eye.
This world was truly in its end times.
I'd known it, but still.
Politely suggesting sword training was enough to shatter my mother's nerves.
Bang!—!!
“Heavens, Valter...?!”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Did you just... pin down the family knight captain with a sword? No—the captain's out cold!”
“As you see.”
“How? Why?!”
“He outclassed me in strength and speed overall, so I focused on a short blitz where I could break through.”
Skill endures eternally, highs and lows aside.
Even if my body lagged, swordplay was like chess—cautious, swift exchanges move by move.
In my past life, hailed as the Sword Ghost by humans and demons alike, I'd drilled those senses thousands, tens of thousands of times.
Adapting was simple.
“I never knew. I've raised a genius.”
“I think so too. Must be thanks to how well you raised me.”
“Valter, perhaps you are—.”
“...What was that?”
“Hehe, nothing. You've got superb skill, my son. A child I can't help but love.”
And so, I earned my mother's approval despite her initial hysterics.
But in a court where birds hear daytime whispers and rats catch the night's,
rumors spread through the maids to the streets.
“Young Master Valter's a genius, endorsed by Countess Valeria herself. Still a kid, and he took down the knight captain with one sword.”
“A—a boy...? A boy did that?”
“Yeah...”
“He's different from other boys.”
“Sounds naughty to you too?”
“Kinda hot. A strong man actually exists.”
Looking back, the palace heard these tales
and tried to snatch me for the knights right away.
In my previous life three centuries ago, heirs showing sword talent at this age were common in count families.
But I was male.
In a world where boys were raised without a speck of dirt, a young man openly shining was prime gossip.
No wonder the rumors raced to the palace.
Or maybe it wasn't skill that drew eyes.
Maybe some old hag in power lusted after a strong man and schemed to claim me.
Anyway, I overheard this
because I ditched my sisters' “Boys can't go out alone—ever” rule and snuck out incognito.
That day, hooded in a tavern alley, eavesdropping...
“A guy that strong? His territory will prosper.”
“Lucky to have him.”
“With that talent, will he leave the county?”
“Leave a gem like that at home? Nah, you'd keep him to breed those genes. Obvious.”
“Fucking hell...”
“—A man's voice?!”
“Shit.”
They fantasized about me breeding heirs to keep me home—as if.
I let out a refined scream, got caught, and bolted.
Just everyday nonsense up to there.
But the key point?
This world's mindset was so warped, everyone thought that way.
No fixing it.
So I decided to adapt.
And exploit it.
...Fuck.
I hated the idea, honestly.
***
“Reason I can't go? Simple.”
“Out with it.”
“All my sisters are pregnant with my kids. How could I leave them and the babies about to be born? As the man of the house, vacating the castle now is impossible.”
I declared it boldly.
Shock rippled through the vast corridor.
My mother felt it.
My gathered sisters too.
Of course, it was a lie.
I'd never done it.
Never would.
“Ah, Valter.”
“Mother.”
“—Indeed. Envoy of the knights, my son cannot leave the territory now that he has sisters with child.”
But soon enough,
my mother, Countess Valeria, with her keen political instincts, winked at me and backed my fib.
As a mother, better to play along briefly and shield her precious prodigal son
than let the kingdom whisk him away after barely saving him.
She figured to defuse things by humoring me.
“Ah... I see. Already at that age.”
The envoy, unaware of the truth and judging solely by our words, nodded just as expected.
This world's morals were twisted solid.
Yet with women everywhere, family men were in demand.
Plus the blue-blood emphasis on lineage.
To the envoy, it sounded legit.
“Then, prepare a formal response for His Majesty.”
“Of course.”
“But His Majesty shows great interest in young master Valter and commanded we bring him to the capital. Prepare while awaiting the births.”
In the end, it felt like cramming for a test.
Still, better than nothing.
I'd fended off the envoy.
Bought about ten months.
Enough to breathe.
For escaping this count family,
ten months was plenty to prepare mochi-pounding.
Seradion, that rat bastard—I need to go avenge myself. Sticking here means getting dragged to the knights and used as the king's pawn. Hate that shit.
Wielding count's authority was nice.
But rise too high, shine too bright, and they'd grab your ankle—just like this.
So I thought:
Time to bail fast.
...Not that I wanted to do that with family either.
This confirms it. Sneak out ASAP before Mother or sisters catch on. Prep everything for escape first.
And that wrapped up the day's drama.
Exhausted from it all, I headed to my bedroom for sleep.
“—Guh?!”
“Valter. Quiet.”
“Mother?!”
I hadn't noticed someone waiting inside.
Visiting me at night?
What the hell?