“I’ll go.”
Unlike before, the response came from someone without the slightest hesitation.
A moment later, upon identifying who had spoken, Verónica screamed almost like a shriek.
“Tristan!”
“Father is right. Taxes and army. These are basic duties that every lord must fulfill. If someone can’t even meet something so elementary, then he’s not fit to be a baron, much less a grand duke.”
Faced with her son’s firm attitude, Verónica could no longer speak and only waved her hands in distress. Tristan glanced briefly at his mother, pale as a sheet, and then turned to the grand duke.
“And if no one had stepped forward here, father would’ve chosen the third as the next head of the family. Am I wrong?”
“…!”
Not only Verónica, but also the other wives and brothers were horrified by Tristan’s words.
All eyes turned to the grand duke, but he simply nodded calmly.
“That’s right. That was my intention.”
“D-dear!”
“An age of chaos is coming. The Empire is weaker than ever, and unstable elements are looking for opportunities everywhere. Even though His Majesty revealed the Empire’s hidden strength, there are no signs that those people’s momentum has diminished.”
“In times of emergency, emergency decisions must be made.”
Tristan quoted an old proverb in response to his father’s words—one that said in critical situations, bold decisions must be made, even if it means ignoring procedure and tradition.
“Father wants an heir fit for the turbulent era that’s coming.”
“If it were a time of peace, I would have observed your capabilities more carefully. But in chaotic times, it’s different. A single moment of hesitation is enough to be swept away and disappear in the tide of history.”
No matter how great a ruler’s qualities might be, if they fall before using them, they’re worthless.
In a chaotic era, the ability to read the broader situation and respond decisively was far more important than simply governing a territory well.
“The third already proved long ago that he has that ability. The ones lacking were all of you.”
“Could it be that you asked us to accompany you to the battlefield so…?”
“If, even while knowing they could lose the position of heir, they don’t dare step forward—do we need to test anything else?”
“…!”
“Fortunately, it doesn’t seem like the time has come yet to hastily decide the heir.”
With a slight smile, Grand Duke Sigmund looked at Tristan. The face of his eldest son—who had secluded himself after failing to recruit Felicia—was gaunt, but his eyes burned with unwavering determination.
“Let’s see your skills after all this time. Do you remember my teachings?”
“Remember them? I’ll show them directly on the battlefield.”
“Mm, good answer.”
At the grand duke’s satisfied expression, the family’s emotions were divided.
In practice, this was equivalent to declaring that the next head of the family would be decided between Lucian and Tristan.
***
‘How strange…’
After the family meeting ended, Lucian frowned while rubbing his chin.
He had become one of the two candidates, but instead of joy, he mostly felt confusion.
It wasn’t dissatisfaction with his father’s decision, but rather with his brothers’ reactions.
‘Joshua was half out of his mind, which is normal. He got eliminated before doing anything. The truly strange one is Jordi.’
The Jordi Lucian knew would never accept someone other than himself becoming head of the family.
He should have reacted more violently than anyone else upon hearing the grand duke’s declaration. However, throughout the entire meeting, Jordi remained far too calm.
He didn’t even throw a hostile glance when leaving.
‘What’s he scheming? Did the maternal family prepare another position for him? Even so, he’s not the type to give up the heirship so easily.’
After thinking about it a little, Lucian decided to set it aside. He didn’t have enough information to draw conclusions.
And above all, he had too many immediate matters to deal with.
‘Let’s resolve the northern issue first. Now that I think about it, it’s about time Raymond officially came under my command…’
“Young master! Young master!”
Lucian turned his head at the urgent call. It was one of Hugo’s subordinates, now serving as his aide.
“What is it?”
“It’s finally finished!”
“Finished? What is?”
“The medicine for that kid you asked us about…!”
Before he could finish speaking, Lucian rushed to him and covered his mouth.
Beside the now-pale servant’s lips, Lucian’s cold voice echoed.
“When was it finished?”
“T-this morning. If you want, I can bring it to you right away…”
“No, I’ll go myself. You go call Hugo.”
Suppressing the pounding in his chest, Lucian left the manor in a hurry.
His destination was the underworld area, west of the inner castle.
He walked confidently through the maze-like alleys, and upon reaching the place, knocked on the door.
Click.
“Password.”
“Look at my face.”
“What are you talking about, idiot—w-whoa!”
The thug who had looked up fiercely through the peephole flinched and stepped back in shock.
With Lucian so close, he hadn’t recognized him immediately.
Clank, creeeak.
“Y-young master, I’m so sorry! Please forgive me…”
“Enough. Where’s Ian?”
“O-on the third floor! The third floor!”
As soon as he heard “third floor,” Lucian was already rushing up the stairs. Without even knocking, he threw the door open.
Ian, who was inside, looked surprised—but only for a moment. Right away, with a grin, he waved the vial he held in his hand.
“Ta-daa! It’s finished, my lord!”
At the sight of the bluish liquid, Lucian’s eyes trembled hard.
He lunged forward to grab the vial and felt a faint ripple of magical power seeping from inside.
It was much weaker than before, but the essence was the same.
‘It’s nothing like that degraded version I made myself. The intensity dropped, but the purity is practically the same as the nectar I drank before.’
Lucian examined the nectar he’d received from Ian from various angles.
At the very least, it didn’t seem like the magical power would explode immediately upon drinking, as it had last time.
“How different is the effect compared to the first one you made? How effective is it when consumed?”
“I haven’t done clinical trials with knights, so I’m not sure. But it’s safe enough that even a normal person can drink it without any preparation.”
“Who did you do the clinical trial on, then?”
“On myself.”
“…”
Without realizing it, Lucian gave Ian a cold stare.
After what had happened last time, he still tested it on his own body?
“I didn’t have a choice! Who else was I supposed to run a clinical trial on with something like this? If it worked, the effects of the medicine would be revealed right away!”
“Or did you want to test your affinity by trying it yourself?”
“…Well, I won’t say that didn’t have any influence. But in any case, I lowered the concentration as much as possible and tested it drop by drop, so there’s no problem.”
“Huff…”
Seeing Ian dodge the topic however he could, Lucian sighed. Scholars, as always.
He shook his head and, nectar in hand, fell into thought.
‘If I could, I’d rush out right now and hand one out to each person, but…’
The timing was too delicate. In a few days, he had to head north to punish the House of Count Calix.
Entering practically empty-handed into foreign territory, he would need to build allies on the ground. If he had this nectar, the process would be much smoother.
“How much has been produced so far?”
“Five vials.”
“Can’t you make a few more in a week?”
“Impossible. To increase the purity, time is required, and a week is far too little.”
Five vials.
More than enough as a result—perhaps even excessive—but still too few to distribute among all his subordinates.
Maybe after settling things in the north, but not for now.
Still, there was one person who deserved to drink it before anyone else.
‘Hugo.’
The first vassal who had sworn loyalty to Lucian, trusting only a vague promise of being made a knight.
It would still take more time to fully fulfill that promise, but at the very least, he could give him a proper gift before then.
***
“Huh? To the north?”
Hugo couldn’t hide his confusion at Lucian’s sudden words.
He had just returned to the capital, and now they were talking about the north?
“What happened this time? Going to scout for more talent?”
“No. A rather troublesome problem has come up.”
Lucian calmly explained the situation—how the name of House Grimaldi had been used without permission, how he intended to punish them for it, and that for this trip to the north, Hugo would go with him along with his unit of ten.
“Considering distance, cost, and accommodations, ideally I’d go with only the minimum escort necessary. So this time, I need you to do your best.”
“Leave it to me. And the other companions…?”
“Raymond and Felicia will go. Hans and Ian will stay behind in Kelheim, of course.”
“Understood. I’ll inform my men right away.”
Hugo bowed his head, but inside, he felt a bitter taste.
Among the vassals—aside from Hans—he was the most senior, and yet he had no one he could interact with comfortably.
‘They say Raymond recently became the young master’s new vassal. I guess my standing will drop again.’
Felicia, the future Swordmaster, was in a class of her own, and not even the Black Lion Raymond was someone Hugo, a former underworld boss, could treat as an equal.
Hans was Lucian’s closest confidant—though he lacked martial power, he handled the most delicate matters.
Even Ian, who had just joined—even if only higher in rank—was far beyond Hugo in terms of talent.
‘He said he could produce valuable spiritual medicine. If that’s true, he’s on a whole different level than me.’
He didn’t know exactly how potent the medicine was, but even the lower-grade ones had incalculable value.
Being able to produce them independently, without relying on the imperial palace, and give them to knights—that was truly terrifying power.
‘I’m thinking nonsense again. I can’t rush things. In the end, the young master promised to help me establish my own house.’
Swallowing his bitterness, Hugo reaffirmed his loyalty inside. Even if his status kept falling,
Lucian hadn’t forgotten him and still entrusted him with responsibilities.
How many lords out there discarded old subordinates the moment someone more useful showed up?
‘And still, I’m fortunate. Even with all these new talents, he still wants me by his side.’
Just as Hugo, now calmer, was about to leave—
“Take this.”
Lucian suddenly approached and handed him a vial with bluish liquid.
Hugo took it and asked cautiously.
“What is this? I’ve never seen a liquid that glows blue like this.”
“It’s spiritual medicine that Ian managed to produce today.”
“…!”
“Drink it. You’ll be the first.”
Upon hearing “the first,” Hugo’s body trembled.
He was being given the very first spiritual medicine—before anyone else?
With trembling hands, he raised the vial.
‘This is… real spiritual medicine.’
The secret of alchemy that even many knights longed for but could never obtain.
A treasure among treasures, whose manufacture—even in basic form—was forbidden without imperial permission.
And that priceless item had come into his hands before any other vassal’s.
“Can I… really drink this?”
“Of course. That’s why I gave it to you.”
At Lucian’s smiling response, Hugo hesitated briefly, opened the vial, and drank it in one gulp.
Just as he was surprised by the refreshing sensation sliding down his throat and pulling the vial from his lips—
“Hng…!?”
Hugo’s eyes flew wide open as he felt magical energy erupting powerfully from deep within his body.
____
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