Chapter 141
Chapter 141
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 141
Chapter Title: The Heir Selection Bombshell
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Ash's unexpected bombshell left my mind completely blank.
'Father is choosing an heir?'
What had caused the Shield Family to fall in my past life?
Father—heavenly pillar Bacchus von Carviot—had perished in the war against the Empire without ever naming a successor. That sparked infighting between my brother and sister, leading to our pathetic downfall.
I'd already planned to send a letter to Banten once I set off for Olivia.
'Has Father had a change of heart?'
I could look into the details after returning to Banten.
"Ash, thank you. I had no idea. You're right—time is short right now. I'll visit again later."
Unable to take the Cimaria with us, we left it anchored off the coast near Elrunheim and hurried back to Banten overland.
On the journey home, I quietly replayed my conversation with Father.
The one we'd had when preparing for trade with the elves.
In exchange for giving up Banten, I'd made a few requests of him.
First: Taking Beskin and the Blizzard Knight Order with me when I left for Olivia.
Second: Taking half the profits from selling the wheat.
Third: Giving me exclusive rights to distribute elven goods in the south.
And the fourth request... I hadn't mentioned it back then, using the excuse that I still had plenty of time before leaving for Olivia.
'It's still too early to bring up the fourth request with Father.'
I bit my lip in secret.
I'd planned to ask after leaving for Olivia because it could significantly impact the succession lineup.
Especially now, before I'd even departed, while still in Banten. It could earn me massive resentment from whoever got pushed out of the running.
Even if I'd racked up achievements, Father might not approve this request. It was that big and important.
"Are you troubled over the heir issue?"
"...Sir Beskin."
As Banten's tall, sturdy walls came into view in the distance, Beskin approached me cautiously.
"Once you come of age, you'll receive Olivia, Young Master. So this succession battle will come down to the First Young Master and the Second Young Lady."
He was right.
"Depending on which of them becomes Banten's heir, the territory's direction will change drastically. It's truly worrisome."
That was right too.
All my plans hinged on our family's territories—Banten and the other frontlines—holding off the Empire when the Holy Empire launched its war.
And among those, the most crucial was Banten, directly tied to the kingdom's rise or fall, no matter what anyone said.
"Young Master Ares is a stickler for outdated principles to a fault, while Lady Mercy prioritizes efficiency and results above all. Whoever wins the succession will change so much."
Just as Beskin said.
In my past life, the war with the Empire had started when I was twenty-five.
Unlike before, I'd repeatedly struck at Ibarella's positions, so it might be delayed, but only by a year or two at most.
'Even seven years is enough for Banten's entire character to shift.'
But my thinking differed slightly from Beskin's.
'Both are exceptional. Their styles may differ, but neither would harm Banten.'
That was why Father had agonized without naming a successor right up to the end in my past life.
My dilemma was whether now was the time to make that fourth request.
'...I should talk to Dwayne as soon as I get to Banten.'
His wisdom would surely point me to the right path.
"Father, I'm back."
Returning to Banten, I headed straight to his office.
Questions could wait; I had to report first.
"Did you wrap things up successfully?"
"Yes. The wyvern hunt was a complete success, and..."
I reported everything to Father.
The pacts with Hatan, the lycanthropes, and the cyclopes; capturing Luna; defeating Marquis Crank, and so on.
"Once trade begins, I'll arrange in advance for the processed wyvern scales to ship directly to Duchess Wendinel's house via our family merchants...?"
As I finished, I glanced up at the odd atmosphere. Sir Arandal's jaw was practically on the floor.
"...You took down Marquis Crank, the beast of the central border?"
Father wasn't as shocked as Sir Arandal, but surprise was clear on his face too.
"...I have more questions, but rest comes first for one returning from battle with honors. We'll go over the full report later. Retire for today. We'll hold Archbishop Luna in custody for now."
"Father, about the heir—"
"Enough."
Father held up a hand and shook his head.
"I won't hear personal opinions on that. We'll hold a formal meeting later to discuss it officially. That's all."
His gaze shifted from me to the papers.
I could sense no argument would sway his firm stance.
Making the fourth request now would backfire.
"...Understood."
I bowed to Father and quietly left the room.
'First, I need to see Dwayne.'
Once Jerome closed the door behind him.
"...This is astonishing. Even if Saladin's ambush did the real damage, for the Third Young Master to fell Marquis Crank single-handedly."
Arandal couldn't hide his shock.
If the Three Dukes were the Empire's swords, the Four Marquises were its spears.
Each was a top-tier Sword Master, rightful heirs to the throne in their own right.
"He must have come close, even without unlocking his full potential."
Bacchus had dismissed Jerome to calm his own emotions, but his heart still raced.
For a warrior of his caliber to be this shaken showed the event's magnitude.
"No matter his Heterogenous Power, is such rapid growth even possible? I can't fathom it."
Bacchus recalled Jerome's battle with the orc in Elrunheim.
"Doesn't the Third Young Master just have insane talent for Heterogenous Powers? The Black Lions have always been a mixed bag like that."
Arandal praised Jerome's talent, but Bacchus shook his head.
"Nonsense. Heterogenous Powers are notoriously harder to master than aura or magic due to their unique natures. No talent grows that fast."
Even Azure Wing, called an outlier, hadn't reached that level at his age.
"My lord, will you truly exclude the Third Young Master from succession? That's talent rare even in our family's entire history. Felling a Four Marquis before twenty."
Arandal pressed urgently, but it only hardened Bacchus's resolve.
'I need to set the test soon.'
Bacchus felt it instinctively, beyond words.
His third son, Jerome, was hiding something.
'Orcs, lycanthropes, even cyclopes...'
And its scale was bigger than he imagined.
To let Jerome paint his vision freely, his stage couldn't be limited to Banten.
He knew that in his head.
'...It's not easy.'
The real reason Bacchus hadn't told a soul—the true drive to name a successor quickly.
He was increasingly wanting to entrust it to Jerome.
The boy could lead Banten to its most glorious era.
This mission alone proved his achievements were on another level.
Pushing aside the temptation, Bacchus steeled himself.
'If my child has ambitions, it's a parent's duty to help as much as possible.'
"Arandal, convene a meeting tomorrow morning. Contact 'her' too."
Arandal flinched briefly, but Bacchus pretended not to notice.
He had to wrap this up before his resolve wavered.
Leaving Father's office, I headed to the dining hall.
Dwayne, lover of food, was bound to be eating something.
"Sir Dwayne? No, he hasn't come."
The servant informed me of his absence.
"Did he just finish and leave?"
He sometimes napped right after meals, so I checked, but the answer differed again.
"No, Third Young Master. Since the day you left on your mission, he hasn't visited outside regular mealtimes once."
Hm. That's odd.
"Thanks, good work."
I patted the servant's shoulder and went to Dwayne's room.
Knock knock!
"Dwayne, coming in?"
Y-Young Master! Wait a—!"
Ignoring his frantic attempt to stop me from whatever he was doing inside, I opened the door.
Whoosh!
A blast of steam carrying a sour, aged-cheese stench poured out.
"Ugh, what the—?!"
The oppressively hot air made me pinch my nose on reflex.
Scowling with my hand over my face, I peered inside.
Drip, drip.
There was Dwayne, upside down in a handstand, sweat beading from his armpits.
"...Could you close the door?"
Creeeak. Thud!
Whether from gravity's strain or sheer embarrassment, I don't know.
At Dwayne's flushed plea, polite despite his shame, I quietly shut the door.
With the stuffy air cut off, my senses cleared a bit.
"...What did I just see?"
It felt like I'd witnessed something monumental.
After a moment, Dwayne opened the door, changed.
"Ugh, couldn't you at least announce yourself?"
He grumbled, face red with embarrassment.
"S-Sorry. Anyway, you've slimmed down a lot?"
Proving that steam hadn't been a hallucination, Dwayne was unrecognizable.
His belly, once a volcano bloated from endless meals, was now flat. His triple chin had sharpened into a defined jaw.
"Well, can't ruin my body forever. Anyway, how'd it go?"
I explained everything to the worried Dwayne, assuring him I'd at least caught sight of the wyvern.
"...Wow, this is shocking."
Dwayne, who'd asked casually, straightened up.
"To expand the board this much. You always exceed my expectations, Young Master."
Dwayne smiled satisfied, stroking his chin.
I'd planned around just dispelling weapons, but adding other races broadened our strategic options immensely.
"Hmm, now we just pick the better heir candidate..."
When Jerome went to Olivia, who in Banten would swiftly advance the territory in tandem? First Young Master? Or Second Young Lady?
'That's the face he's making.'
Sorry to douse Dwayne's pleasant imaginings, but no choice.
"Sorry, Dwayne. The heir's basically decided."
"Huh? What do you mean? Has the lord already picked one?"
'I didn't see any signs of that,' Dwayne muttered.
Exactly.
As Dwayne said, Father hadn't decided anything yet.
"You're right. But a request I made to Father before leaving for Olivia will influence the selection."
"...? What do you mean?"
Even Dwayne couldn't guess this.
I calmly explained the deal with Father.
"...And my final request."
To get his precise judgment, I had to tell him first.
"Is to behead one of the Six Shields loyal to each of them—the Hexagon."
Dwayne, hearing my request, murmured in realization.
"Ah, I see. Behead one of the Hexagon. That would definitely sway the succession..."
Mid-sentence, he caught the oddity late.
Freezing briefly, Dwayne turned back creakily.
"...I think I misheard. Could you say that once more?"
Who? What? How?