Chapter 25. Northern Nobles (2)
Episode 25. Nobles of the North (2)
After the Golden Star Tournament concluded.
I became busier than ever.
Because I had gained an unexpected windfall.
'Who would've thought Roman even took photos?'
The reason I treated the spearman Sian wasn't just because I was responsible for his injuries—his martial prowess made him useful.
'What matters is his skill. If I heal and recruit him, he'll become valuable manpower.'
I gave him potions, expensive medicinal herbs, and diligently assisted his rehabilitation.
That was all I did.
I never imagined things would unfold like this. I couldn't help but smile.
The Count Dahikah family had historically managed the North's liquor distribution network. To put it bluntly:
'If you want to run a liquor business in the North, you must get Count Dahikah's approval!'—that's how influential they were.
I took out a sheet of paper and listed the items I wanted. First, Iruna Noble. Then, a couple of other fine liquors.
Later, I'd have to ask my brother, Roman, and Crombell for their preferences.
Anyway. After finishing my pending tasks, I straightened my attire.
I tidied my hair.
Finally, I checked if any scent of blood lingered on me.
Once everything was perfect.
I headed to the family head's office.
Today, standing before the unusually massive door, I gulped dryly.
Before my regression, standing before this door had been terrifying and burdensome. But.
The me from before and the me now were different.
What was the difference?
Back then, I didn't knock. Now, I do.
Knock—knock—
I rapped on the door and spoke.
"Father. I've come."
"Enter."
The moment permission was granted, I opened the door. When something feels burdensome, hesitation is the enemy.
Otherwise, you'll never overcome that wall of pressure. So I strode inside with bold steps.
Father was still reviewing documents.
Seeing him again, my lips twitched, but no words came out.
But I had to keep breaking through moments like this.
Partly because Father and I were blood-related, but also because I'd need to persuade him many times in the future.
"Father. I've returned victorious."
"I saw."
"......!"
For a moment, I thought I misheard. Saw? He saw it? He really watched?
Father simply said he saw.
No praise followed.
Well done.
Son.
I believed in you.
None of those words came.
Only his expression softened slightly. As I looked at him, I repeated inwardly:
'For now, that's enough. Father. Please open the door to your heart, little by little.'
The mere possibility that our stiff father-son relationship could gradually improve lifted my spirits.
Of course, that aside.
Business was business.
"Then, do I have your permission?"
The Special Investigation Headquarters—a unit within the Inspection Bureau composed of knights, authorized to streamline all procedures under the lord's approval, collect evidence, investigate, search, and execute if necessary.
The authority I desired most right now.
Father slowly opened his mouth.
"If you can persuade the Inspection Bureau Director as well."
It was clear permission.
"Leave that to me."
Father nodded. I bowed again and left the family head's office with lighter steps.
After Sion Karsen left the family head's office, David Karsen set aside his documents and stood up.
He walked to the window and gazed outside. Enhancing his Eye Power, he took in the view—the grand mansion built on the hill, the Rumenia River flowing just beyond, and beyond that, Seyren, the capital of the North.
The vast city stretched before his eyes.
Once, he had poured his life into making this land habitable.
Hand in hand with the woman he loved, they built it together, shared happy days, and raised children so precious they'd hurt no eyes.
But after her death.
Everything turned monochrome.
Like a desolate snowy plain—only white snow and his faded self remained.
Was there any meaning to living?
Should he abandon life and walk toward death? He had considered it, but how could he leave behind his flesh and blood?
So he clung—barely, precariously—to life.
His firstborn grew into a strong knight to fill his vacant place. His second was blessed with talent. Thus, his greatest concern had always been the third.
But unlike his late wife, he had no idea how to treat his child, so he merely watched. He never interfered, no matter what. Yet.
One day, the third child's aura changed.
Every gesture, every step was different.
David Karsen looked up at the distant sky.
'Was it you who helped him?'
Of course, no answer came. He returned to his desk and pulled out the crystal ball from the drawer.
That moment—when Sion defeated Sylvia—remained vivid in his memory.
Winning the Golden Star Tournament wasn't something achievable by luck, and Sylvia wasn't an opponent one could defeat with mere tricks.
Yet. Sion won. He had changed. And he sought to change further.
David Karsen spoke softly.
"Zephyr."
At once, shadows seeped from beside the bookshelf, coalescing into human form.
Jet-black hair. Sharp features. Hollow yet piercing blue eyes. A black uniform.
Every aspect of his appearance blended into a razor-sharpness that seemed capable of cutting at a touch.
"Yes, my lord. You called?"
David asked with indifferent eyes.
"What do you make of it?"
The man called Zephyr answered without hesitation.
"He seems like an entirely different person."
"Any guesses why?"
"I've seen him frequently visiting the mountain behind the estate. If there's a catalyst, that would be it."
"......."
David fell into brief thought.
'The mountain. The ruins of Lumen. And the mythology...'
This wasn't originally the main estate, but the territory had always belonged to the Karsen family.
The mountain, the ruins, and the mythology passed down through them were deeply intertwined with the Karsen lineage.
He had always relied solely on his own strength and effort, paying no heed to ruins or myths. But his wife had once said:
—Reading myths about dead gods feels strange. Romantic yet tragic, wouldn't you say? I pray these myths don't reach our children's generation.
—Why do you say that?
—Because I don't want their lives to be rugged.
—They won't be.
Somehow, David felt his wife's prayer wouldn't be answered. He couldn't be certain yet, but it seemed likely.
And if that were the case—
"Where is the person Sion brought?"
"Waiting in the guest room. Shall I bring him here? Or shall I say you're unavailable?"
"Bring him."
"Yes, my lord."
"Also. Cancel all my schedules. It's been a while—I should train."
"......!"
Zephyr was genuinely startled. Normally, he showed almost no emotional fluctuation. But this time, he couldn't help it.
And for good reason. His lord, who had secluded himself for years after losing his wife, was now saying he would resume training?
A wave of astonishment and emotion surged.
"...Yes, family head. I'll prepare the training hall."
"Thank you."
Whoosh. Zephyr vanished into the shadows. David turned his gaze to his dust-covered sword in the corner.
If fate were to lead his children's lives down rugged paths, his role would be to stand as their unwavering support.
Strangely, it felt as if a small flame had bloomed in the monochrome snowy plain.
With Father's permission secured, I headed straight to the Inspection Bureau. Upon entering, the director's secretary guided me to the reception room.
'Did Father give him advance notice?'
Following the escort, I entered the reception room. Midgal Lau, director of the Inspection Bureau—the knight known as the Iron-Blooded Knight—was waiting with light refreshments prepared.
I immediately bent at the waist in a deep bow.
"Greetings, Director."
"Yes, young master. Please, have a seat."
"Thank you."
Once seated.
We exchanged brief pleasantries.
Director Midgal's gaze was exceedingly gentle, but I knew his courtesy wasn't directed at me.
His respect was reserved solely for the Karsen family. After all, he had no reason to revere a rookie like me.
After warming up with small talk, he cut to the chase.
"Young master, I've heard of the authority you seek for the Special Investigation Headquarters... but this seems excessive."
I could sense discomfort in his voice. The atmosphere shifted entirely—he seemed like a different person from moments ago.
Right.
This was Midgal Lau, the knight.
While he welcomed my growth, he wouldn't tolerate arrogance.
'Which is precisely why I trust him.'
Knights lived and died by their pride. That's why they valued procedure more than anyone.
The Special Investigation Headquarters disregarded that procedure—conflict was inevitable.
But I wasn't insisting on ignoring procedure out of stubbornness. If everything could proceed smoothly while following protocol, why wouldn't I?
"Let me ask you one thing. Do you believe the North is clean?"
"...What are you implying?"
"Goods imported to the North cost twice as much as those in the West, South, or East. Meanwhile, exports from the North are absurdly cheap. Do you think the Trade Management Bureau is unaware?"
"......."
Midgal's pupils wavered. This was why—because he was a just and upright man—I was confident I could persuade him.
And Midgal Lau was weak against the truth and quick to concede.
"What about liquor, essential to the North? Doesn't the Dahikah family monopolize it for exorbitant profits? The mining industry is no better. The Faiyel family is infamous for exploiting miners. Do you know how many have died so far? And the Land Management Bureau? Colluding with nobles and merchants to carry out various projects using territory taxes—projects that were never properly completed, with funds simply vanishing."
"We can investigate through proper procedures."
"Then why haven't you done so until now?"
"......."
Midgal couldn't answer. Any response would amount to admitting the Inspection Bureau's failure—his own incompetence.
Truthfully, the Bureau had likely worked harder than anyone.
But the corrupt had exploited procedural loopholes, slipping away like eels. And this was the result.
It was absurd, yet such things happened all too easily.
I drove the point home.
"Director. The territory's people are starving. Meanwhile, the Northern nobles and corporations live in luxurious mansions, indulging in decadent parties beyond description."
"Young master, your reckless investigations have let more culprits escape than you've caught."
Midgal cut me off. A warning not to overstep. But I wasn't done.
"I was reckless before. I admit it. But I've changed. I captured the Hashiman brothers, eradicated the Red Awl, and proved my competence. After each case, I ensured the victims were cared for. You know this."
Midgal's eyes flickered. Just once, but it was enough—because I had addressed even the areas the Bureau had long neglected.
"To catch the rats spreading plague, someone must open the sewers and step inside. Even if it means getting covered in filth. I'm volunteering for that role."
Midgal fell silent. Silence meant contemplation, and his contemplation was brief.
The Golden Star Tournament's finals must have helped.
"Young master."
"Yes, Director."
"Very well. But you'll be given a launch mission."
A launch mission. In other words.
A mission to establish the Special Investigation Headquarters' standing.
It was only natural.
To cleanse the North, such authority was necessary—and such authority required internal and external promotion.
'Good.'
If the launch mission succeeded and word spread across the North? The Special Investigation Headquarters would become the people's voice.
A final recourse for the exploited, the oppressed, those driven to the brink by corrupt nobles and rotten powers.
In any case. With clear permission granted.
I smiled brightly at him and said:
"Thank you, Director."