To think the first words my father would speak after six months apart were about checking my pants. What kind of unseemly display was this?
I released a quiet sigh. “Please refrain from such vulgar language in public.”
“Ahahahaha! Well, look at that! My son’s becoming a baron! This old man couldn’t be prouder!”
Whack! Whack!
Father hammered my back with enough force to rattle bones while bellowing his joy. He seemed perfectly comfortable with this behavior, but I was thoroughly mortified.
I’m fairly certain he wasn’t always like this.
I covered my face, pressing fingers to my throbbing temples.
Another soft sigh escaped me as I looked at my father. “You seem to have been well.”
“Of course I have! How could I not be, with news of you reaching me constantly!”
“Could you perhaps lower your voice?”
Good grief. Everyone here could hear him.
I exhaled slowly and let my gaze wander. Sure enough, the nobles gathered in the imperial palace were murmuring amongst themselves.
“Still carrying on like that at his age, apparently.”
“Well, heroes always have their... particular quirks, don’t they?”
Too late to stop now…
“Fine. Let’s go somewhere else to talk.” I led Father toward a corner of the audience chamber. With each step, I felt other people’s stares, but I ignored them and moved to where we could have some privacy.
“So this one’s your retainer, is he?” Once we reached the corner, Father looked beside me. Lancelot stood there, fidgeting with an expression of pure bewilderment.
I glanced at Lancelot. “I’d call him my guard rather than a retainer.”
“Oh! If he’s your guard, he must have some skill!”
“He’s weak. Terribly so.”
“I’m not that weak,” Lancelot muttered resentfully.
Apparently being humiliated in front of my father didn’t sit well with him. Always so impatient.
I let out a small laugh. “That’s why I was hoping you might provide him some guidance.”
“Guidance, you say?”
“Yes. The fellow has talent.”
“Hmm…” Father’s eyes moved as he looked Lancelot up and down.
Since I was asking, he’d probably agree to act as a mentor. This scrutiny was just him taking measure—figuring out how much he could teach and how much this fool could absorb. He was assessing the possibilities.
After a moment of evaluation, Father nodded and accepted my request. “Well, why not. He does seem to have some talent.”
“Thank you.” I bowed my head lightly in gratitude.
“Eh...?” Lancelot blinked as if wondering how it could be that simple.
Well, of course it seemed easy to him. Father might be just “Father” to me, but to everyone else, he was the continent’s strongest spear-wielder. For any spear-knight, receiving instruction from such a man would be the greatest fortune imaginable.
“Th-thank you so much!” Lancelot bowed deeply to Father.
“Don’t mention it. Just take good care of my son.” Father grinned and patted Lancelot’s shoulder.
“Yes! You can count on me!”
“Hahaha. Quite the spirited knight!”
Looking at them now, they seemed rather similar somehow. I glanced between the two and released another faint sigh. “By the way, has anything notable happened with the family lately?”
“Hmm? Ah, nothing aside from your second brother taking an interest in Demonkin.”
“Second brother?”
“Yes, what was it... He’s been saying there are signs of Demonkin becoming more active lately. Has there been any talk of that up north?”
Demonkin.
I searched my memories, recalling the past.
Certainly, before my regression, Demonkin hadn’t been particularly active. But since my return in time, their traces had been appearing with suspicious frequency—almost as if my regression and their increased activity were somehow connected.
That’s probably overthinking it.
I shook my head lightly. “No, there hasn’t been any particular talk of it.”
“I see.” Father nodded as if he hadn’t expected much anyway. “Well, it’s still under investigation, so don’t worry about it. But I’ve been hearing a lot about you lately. Finally grown up, have you?”
Stories about me? What had I done that could be called “growing up”? At most, I’d acquired Mithril and killed a Kobold Lord. The Mithril business wouldn’t have reached noble circles yet, and there was the Miph Merchant Guild matter as well.
Though I wasn’t sure which of these counted as “growing up.”
Seeing my puzzled expression, Father smiled and kindly provided the answer himself. “I heard you normalized the Miphra territory. Isn’t that right? From what I understand, you shut down all the casinos.”
“That would be correct.”
“And you also saved Baron Harris’s domain, didn’t you? That’s also true?”
“Well, that’s also accurate, but you know…”
I smiled somewhat bitterly. The results might have been good, but neither incident was truly praiseworthy. Both had been motivated by personal revenge. The good outcomes were mere coincidence—not the sort of deeds that warranted such gilding of my reputation.
But perhaps taking my reaction for modesty, Father laughed heartily again and pounded my back. “Hahaha! Who would have thought you’d turn out so well! I should thank that Praha young lady!”
Whack! Whack!
Just as I was wincing from the pain shooting through my back, an imperial officer appeared in the audience chamber. The officer surveyed all the nobles in the hall, then slowly began to speak.
“His Imperial Majesty approaches. All shall show proper reverence and display your loyalty.”
Click—
Every noble in the audience chamber fell silent. Simultaneously, they bent forward at the waist, awaiting the Emperor’s appearance.
Swish.
An elderly man bearing tremendous presence appeared—a golden-haired man.
The Ruler of the Empire had entered the audience chamber.
* * *
Following the Emperor’s entrance, the ennoblement ceremony proceeded with swift efficiency.
The Emperor sat upon his throne, gazing down with regal composure, while Louis Berg knelt on one knee below, preparing for his elevation.
How much he’s grown without my noticing.
Count Berg watched Louis with deep emotion.
Since Louis had departed for the north, countless rumors had reached his ears.
No matter that he’d sent the boy as an adopted son-in-law, how could a father’s heart not worry? He’d made every effort to seek out and listen to any rumors concerning Louis, spending his days fretting over whether his son might have been injured.
When the first rumors reached me, I could hardly believe them.
What was it again? Something about hunting a Goblin Lord single-handedly?
Count Berg naturally hadn’t believed it. He knew Louis’s capabilities better than anyone—Aura Adept.
Stronger than an Aura Novice, perhaps, but still not even at the level of a senior knight. For him to defeat a Goblin Lord alone—and with archery, no less? It was preposterous.
He’d naturally assumed it was exaggerated propaganda created by the northern faction.
However, the stories about Louis never stopped coming.
First came tales of the Miphra territory—how a knight named Louis Berg had dealt with a criminal organization operating there.
More precisely, it had been the work of a guild called the Miph Merchant Company, but that wasn’t the important part. What mattered was that Louis had used all their money to help the victims, even going so far as to destroy the continent’s greatest casino entirely.
That was the sort of thing only high priests of temples might accomplish.
How could it be easy for any human to abandon greed? That made it all the more worthy of pride.
This was enough, he’d thought—raising a child this well was success enough for any parent.
But Louis’s achievements didn’t end there.
After a period of quiet, news came that he’d resolved a monster wave that struck the Barony of Harris—throwing himself bodily into danger to protect the residents.
It had been reckless. Everyone only has one life, after all. Learning the Divine Archer’s Aura cultivation technique was one thing, but that wouldn’t create talent where none existed. There would be clear limits, and eventually, those limits would be reached.
Yet his son had not only survived that war but protected everyone else as well.
And now he stood here, having caught the Emperor’s eye and earned elevation to baron.
How shocked he’d been when His Majesty called Louis a hero! He’d been so stunned that today, in anticipation of meeting Louis, he’d indulged in drink—something he rarely did.
What a remarkable child.
Count Berg gazed at Louis—a remarkable child beyond any comparison to himself.
At that moment, the Emperor drew his sword and tapped Louis’s shoulder lightly, while Louis knelt on one knee, humbly accepting the blade.
Ennoblement.
From this moment forward, Louis would be called not “Louis Berg” but “Baron Louis.”
A hero, they called him.
Count Berg smiled contentedly, his lips curving upward.
One who willingly goes where all others flee. One who abandons personal gain to pursue only justice. Such a person we call a “hero.”
Count Berg closed his eyes gently, wanting to savor this moment’s feeling completely while thinking of his son, who filled him with such pride.
* * *
“—thus do I grant Louis Berg the title of Baron and bestow upon him the middle name ‘Vinn.’”
With the Emperor’s proclamation, the ennoblement ceremony reached its conclusion.
Thunderous applause erupted, and Louis Berg—now Baron Louis Vinn Berg—rose from his position.
Finally finished.
Louis Berg released a quiet sigh as he descended from the center of the audience chamber.
With the ceremony complete, all the nobles moved from the audience hall to the banquet hall. Naturally, the evening’s guest of honor was Louis Berg himself.
“Congratulations, Baron Louis Vinn Berg.”
“Haha. What an honor for your House to have a name personally bestowed by His Majesty.”
“It’s only a simple barony, but this is just the beginning. Don’t be too disappointed.”
The well-wishers, the mockers, and the relieved. Every sort of person approached to offer their particular brand of commentary.
Louis Berg maintained a false smile as he dealt with them all. No matter how distasteful he found them, they were still nobles. Never knowing when he might need their assistance, he could hardly tell them all to go to hell.
After numerous tedious encounters…
“Well, well… My little brother! It’s been too long, huh?”
“Ron? You should keep it down in the banquet hall.”
From across the room came familiar faces he hadn’t seen in ages—Dreck Berg and Ron Berg, his eldest and second brothers, whom he hadn’t properly seen since departing for the north.
Whomp!
His second brother wrapped him in an enthusiastic embrace. “I heard the stories. You’ve been doing well lately, haven’t you? The Hero of the North, was it?”
“He must be stronger than us now. Either that, or completely reckless.”
“Ahahaha! Well, I suppose that’s true. Still, it’s good to see you. Engaged or not, you could have stayed in touch, you know?”
The boisterous atmosphere and sense of familiarity stirred something complicated inside Louis, drawing out a quiet laugh.
It had been far too long since he’d felt this at ease.