As a Reincarnated Aristocrat, I’ll Use My Appraisal Skill to Rise in the World (LN) - Volume 1 - Chapter 5

It was the fourth day of the third month. Autumn was upon us, and I had just turned eleven.

The news of my father’s collapse came as a major shock. As of a few months prior, he’d stopped coughing entirely. We were all convinced he’d finally overcome his illness. But then one day, while he was training with his troops in the early morning, he simply fell to the ground, still as the dead. He hadn’t actually dropped dead on the spot, thankfully, but he did lose consciousness, and with no clear explanation why. He was carried into the estate, and a doctor who lived in Lamberg was immediately called in to treat him.

“Is my father all right? Can you help him?” I asked after the doctor finished his inspection. We were sitting beside the bed where my father was resting.

“His life isn’t in danger, as things stand,” the doctor began, then hesitated before continuing. “But he has a high fever, it would seem. Hmm… Lord Raven was in poor health until recently, yes? I was relieved to hear he’d shaken off the malady, but I’m afraid to say that, well…”

The look on the doctor’s face was all I needed to know that he wasn’t about to deliver good news.

“Has my father’s illness returned?”

“I believe so,” replied the doctor. “And I now believe I know what he suffers from: a rather rare illness known as gley syndrome. The sickness itself is something of a mystery, though, I’m afraid. We have yet to determine what causes it, but a small mercy is that we do know it isn’t contagious. Its victims are likely to think themselves afflicted with a common cold, but with symptoms that persist for far longer than usual before suddenly receding. Shortly thereafter, though, the disease manifests once more in the form of a wide variety of symptoms─a high fever, a loss of appetite, vomiting, diarrhea, a propensity to fall victim to other illnesses…and, ultimately, death.”

I’d never heard of a disease by that name, and I couldn’t remember any sickness from my old world with similar symptoms. I was never exactly an expert as far as diseases were concerned, of course, so the fact that I didn’t know of any like it didn’t mean there hadn’t been one out there somewhere.

“Can gley syndrome be cured?” I asked.

The doctor shook his head and replied, “Not with any medicine we know of. The only option is to wait and pray the patient overcomes the disease. In most cases, though, I’m afraid they pass away within a year of the first sign of symptoms. Lord Raven is exceptionally hale and hearty, and I believe that the odds are high he’ll survive longer than the average patient, but nevertheless…”

Death.

I was struck dumb. Was my father going to die? The thought alone sent my mind spiraling into turmoil. I knew it would happen someday, but surely this was far, far too soon?

“What’s important now is for Lord Raven to get plenty of rest and allow his body the time it needs to heal, the same as one would for any other illness. So long as he does, there’s still a chance he’ll pull through,” said the doctor. “I’m aware that he’s a driven man, but you must not allow him to exert himself under any circumstances. Keep him at rest in bed, no matter what. I can’t guarantee he’ll survive even if you do, but at least then he’ll stand a fighting chance.”

After that, the doctor taught us some recipes for healthy food that would keep my father’s energy levels up, boiled some herbs into a medicinal concoction for him, and then took his leave.

So if he gets plenty of rest, my father might still recover? No, not might. He will recover, I’m sure of it! He’s stronger and healthier than anyone I’ve ever known! There’s no way a plain old disease would do him in!

The fighting in Missian had grown less fierce of late, as well, which helped me stay optimistic. Lord Amador, the Duke of Missian who’d been on death’s door just recently, had miraculously recovered, so his sons had ceased warring with each other. It turned out, incidentally, that the duke really had named the younger of the two his successor, but in light of the conflict that arose while he was indisposed, he’d decided to withdraw that decision and reconsider the matter. Apparently, he intended to consult at length with his vassals and his sons themselves before settling the question of his successor for good.

As far as I was concerned, though, what really mattered was that thanks to the duke’s recovery, House Louvent had been called into battle far less frequently in recent months. As long as he didn’t have to fight, I was sure that my father would let himself get the rest he needed. Or at least, I desperately hoped he would…until the worst news imaginable arrived the evening of the very same day my father had collapsed: the Duke of Missian had been assassinated. The timing couldn’t possibly have been any worse.

The next day, my father finally awoke. Seeing him conscious was a relief, to be sure, but it was obvious he was far from healthy. He seemed tired, listless, and his fever had yet to break. I was worried that telling him how serious his illness was would be shocking enough to worsen his condition, so I decided to keep the fact that it could kill him a secret for the moment, and instead just emphasized that he needed rest above all else. He actually obeyed, for once, which felt like a sign of how badly the disease was hitting him.

“I believe we’d be better off refraining from informing Lord Raven about recent developments,” Rietz said later, when we were out of my father’s earshot.

“Agreed.”

We were discussing the matter of the duke’s assassination, and decided that telling my father about it would be best left for another day. The last thing I wanted was to make him worry about the duchy’s politics and exacerbate his illness.

“While we’re at it…what do you think will happen to House Louvent from here on out?” I asked. We were in the study at the time, incidentally. I’d called Rietz and Rosell in to discuss our options. Rietz’s expertise went without saying, and Rosell’s Intelligence had grown to a total score of 89, so I figured that his opinions would be valuable as well.

“Hmm,” said Rosell. “I think it’s only a matter of time before war breaks out, to start.”

“I was worried you’d say that,” I replied with a grimace.

“Well, yeah, it’s sort of obvious. I mean, the duke kicked the bucket without naming a successor, right? Of course that would mean war.”

“What do you think, Rietz? Do you see it that way as well?” I asked, turning his way.

“I do, yes. War is all but inevitable.”

Figures. The duke sure did die at the best possible moment, assuming his goal was to cause a war of succession.

“The operative question, as I see it, is not whether a war will break out, but when,” Rietz continued. “Since the duke was murdered, it seems quite possible that both of his sons will claim that the other was the mastermind behind the plot. If they do, then it’s entirely possible that the fighting will begin all but immediately.”

“That makes sense…but while we’re on the subject, who sent an assassin after the duke? And why now, of all times?”

“The assassin was captured, from what I’ve gathered, but he took his own life before they could get any answers out of him. The mastermind remains a mystery,” Rietz explained.

“Do you think it was one of the brothers?”

“I dunno about that,” said Rosell. “The succession slate was just wiped clean, as far as they’re concerned, so having their dad bumped off now seems, well, pointless. I guess it is possible that the duke had already reached a decision and opened up to someone about it, though. If the son who wasn’t chosen caught wind of that, it would’ve given them a motive.”

Rosell paused for a moment to think, then continued. “It’s also possible that the assassin got sent out from another duchy. It was pretty obvious that the duke’s death would throw Missian into chaos, after all. Then again, it’s not exactly easy for a foreign assassin to slip across the border, make it all the way to the capital, and off the duke himself, so maybe that’s not so likely after all.”

Sounds like the perpetrator may not have been one of the brothers… Of course, it’s not like we’ll ever know for sure, what with the assassin dead and all.

“No amount of thinking will allow us to track down the culprit,” said Rietz. “And honestly, we simply don’t have enough information to do anything about the situation at present, so I propose we drop the subject. The real question we ought to consider is what we’ll do when war does break out. I certainly don’t imagine Lord Raven will be marching into battle for the foreseeable future, considering the state he’s in.”

I’d told Rietz and Rosell everything I knew about my father’s diagnosis, so they were both taking the grave state of his health into account.

“Could you lead our troops, Rietz?” I asked.

“N-No, that would be unthinkable! While it’s true that House Louvent’s soldiers and servants are more accepting of me than they used to be, fighting alongside your men and leading them are two entirely different things. I’m afraid you’re the only one who can fill that void, Master Ars. The soldiers have sworn their allegiance to House Louvent, so their morale would suffer greatly if a member of the house wasn’t there to fight by their side.”

Morale, huh? That’s tricky, yeah─I guess I really will have to take to the field until my father recovers.

I wasn’t at all certain that I’d be able to fill his shoes properly, but if I didn’t rise to the occasion, my father would have to, and that would mean his inevitable death. Thus, I had no other choice.

“Of course, I imagine that a summons from the Count of Canarre will precede any real fighting,” Rietz clarified. “I’m sure he’ll call a meeting soon to discuss the future of the county and decide on a course of action.”

I hesitated, then asked, “And my father is in no condition to attend, right?”

“Correct. Even if all he would have to do is talk, the trip alone would strain him considerably. I believe it best he doesn’t attend.”

“Hmm,” I said, considering my options. “It feels like it wouldn’t be right for me to not attend the meeting as a representative of House Louvent…but I’ve never done anything like this before. Can I really manage it…? Agh, it’s like a mountain of problems just got dumped on my head out of nowhere! And everything was so quiet and peaceful up until just yesterday!” I moaned, clutching at my head in despair.

“G-Good luck with that, I guess!”

“Rosell…” I groaned, shooting him a glare. “You realize this is your problem too, right?”

“U-Umm, Master Ars?” said Rietz. “I promise that I will do everything in my power to assist you. That goes for you too, Rosell─you owe it to him to help out!”

Thankfully, Rosell nodded in agreement.

“Oh, and another thing─do you think it would be best for us to refrain from telling my father about the duke’s death at all?”

“I believe so, yes,” said Rietz. “Learning that the duke has passed is sure to drive your father to push himself past his limits despite his illness. If we want him to remain in convalescence like the doctor recommended, then we’ll have to keep that news from him. Of course,” he added with a wince, “if he does ever find out, I imagine he’ll be quite upset.”

“That’s a small price to pay, in my book.”

My father was terrifying when he got mad, sure, but I couldn’t afford to let him scare me into spilling the beans this time around.

“First things first,” I continued, “we’ll probably have some time before the count’s summons arrives. Before that happens, I’ll have to spend all the time I possibly can training in swordsmanship and the art of warfare.”

“Agreed, and I would be more than happy to serve as your instructor,” said Rietz.

Thus, a period of intense, diligent study and training began for me. Eleven days passed by in that manner before finally, a letter arrived from the Count of Canarre requesting Lord Louvent’s immediate presence at Castle Canarre. I set out at once with Rietz, Charlotte, and a few of my father’s older retainers accompanying me.

I had my apprehensions about bringing Charlotte along, truth be told, but from what I’d gathered, her achievements on the battlefield and her unplaceable personality had resulted in the other houses considering her something of a terror. I was pinning my hopes on the possibility that showing the other houses that she obeyed my commands would help me earn some respect.

I hadn’t sent a letter in reply, by the way, so the count and his people had no idea that I would be the one in attendance. The letter had emphasized the urgency of the meeting and requested House Louvent’s presence as soon as conceivably possible, so I’d left without wasting any time.

We arrived at the city of Canarre and made our way through the gateway, into the section of the city guarded by its curtain walls, and finally to the gateway of the castle itself. A gatekeeper called out to us as we approached.

“Halt! You stand before Castle Canarre, residence of the count himself! None may enter without a letter of summons!”

Well, that’s a problem─I definitely don’t have one. What’s going on here?

“Lord Raven was a familiar face to the guards, and he was always allowed to come and go as he pleased,” Rietz whispered into my ear. “I’m afraid, however, that it might prove more complicated in your case…”

“Oh. Well, that puts me in a bind,” I sighed. “So what, we won’t be able to get inside?”

“No, I believe it should be possible,” said Rietz. “Charlotte’s name is quite widely known, as is mine, to a lesser extent. This particular guard does not seem to recognize us, but if we ask him to summon one of the count’s senior retainers to identify us, I believe we should be allowed inside.”

I nodded to Rietz, then turned back to the guard and declared, “I am Ars Louvent, eldest son and heir to House Louvent! As my father, Lord Raven Louvent, is currently indisposed, I have arrived to answer Count Lumeire Pyres’s summons in his place. If you doubt my identity, I would ask that you send word of my arrival to the castle and call one of the count’s senior retainers to confirm the matter. Though they may not know me, I am certain they will know some among my retainers.”

The guard frowned as he listened to my little speech. He seemed more than a bit bewildered, presumably by the fact that I looked like a child, and clearly wasn’t sure what to do. Thankfully for the both of us, a more senior soldier arrived soon after to handle the situation. The gatekeeper explained the circumstances to him, and the older soldier turned to check our identities…only for his eyes to immediately widen in shock.

“G-Gods above! That’s the Blue Reaper of Lamberg!” he shouted, his eyes glued to Charlotte.

“I wish they’d stop calling me that. It’s such an ugly nickname,” Charlotte muttered, pouting all the while.

No kidding! When did she pick up a brutal-sounding title like that? I wondered. That was certainly the first I’d heard of it.

“A-And the Malkan!” the soldier shouted, turning to Rietz next. “He’s the Bloodthirsty Demon of Lamberg!”

I gave Rietz a look and asked, “‘Bloodthirsty’?”

Rietz glanced away awkwardly and replied, “I, umm…don’t recall doing anything vicious enough to earn that moniker…but, well, bloodshed is inevitable on the battlefield. People talk…and some titles are granted regardless of the bearer’s will.”

Thankfully, their reputations were indeed enough to confirm my identity as House Louvent’s scion, so we were led up to the castle.

Castle Canarre was ancient, but as far as fortresses went, it was actually on the smaller side of things. When I heard the word “castle,” I’d pictured a gorgeous, lavishly decorated palace, but this was anything but. The middle-aged man who met us at the entrance, however, was at least dressed in what I could tell was a fine and expensive set of clothing. I assumed he was one of Count Pyres’s retainers, and likely a high-ranking one at that.

The soldier who had led us inside told us to wait for a moment, then walked over to speak with the man. A short exchange later, the middle-aged man jumped in shock, then ran over to us in a fluster and asked, “Is it true?! Lord Raven has fallen ill?!”

“It is, yes,” I replied. “And you are…?”

“Oh, pardon my rudeness! It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Master Ars Louvent. I am Menas Renard, retainer to House Pyres,” he explained, confirming my expectations. I gave him an appraisal, just for good measure.

His scores were nothing to scoff at. None of his attributes stood head and shoulders above the rest, but on the other hand, all of them sat at very respectable values. Most of his battle-related Aptitudes were ranked at B or above, even.

“It seems you’ve already been informed, but my name is Ars Louvent,” I said. “I’ve come here in my father’s stead. The individuals behind me are my retainers, who accompanied me to ensure my safety.”

“Yes, yes, I’m well acquainted with them! We’ve fought side by side on the battlefield, haven’t we?” said Menas.

“Quite,” said Rietz with a nod, while Charlotte cocked her head in confusion. Apparently, he wasn’t ringing any bells on her end. Menas didn’t have a particularly memorable face, so I couldn’t exactly blame her for forgetting him. It was still incredibly rude, of course, but at least I wouldn’t hold it against her.

Menas, fortunately, didn’t seem to be offended by Charlotte’s attitude as he turned back to me and said, “It’s hard to believe that Lord Raven could possibly be bedridden… What sort of sickness is he suffering from?”

“According to the doctor who diagnosed him, he most likely has gley syndrome,” I replied.

“G-Gley syndrome?! B-But, wait─wouldn’t that mean he’s in no condition to go into battle?!” exclaimed Menas. Apparently, the man was fairly well-versed in obscure diseases.

“Yes, it does,” I confirmed. “The doctor gave us strict orders to ensure he stays in bed for the time being.”

“Oh no, oh no,” Menas muttered. “Of all the times! This is a grave blow, oh, what a disaster… I just know lord Lumeire will be beside himself…”

He was even more despondent than I’d expected, but he shook his head and rallied himself back to attention, then continued, “I-In any case, I shall show you to Lord Lumeire at once! The other lords have yet to arrive, so the plan is to only assemble once everyone is present. However, I would appreciate it if you would meet with the count in advance for good measure.”

“All right,” I agreed, then followed Menas into the castle. We walked for some time, then arrived at an extravagant door. I assumed that the count was waiting beyond it.

“Would you be willing to wait here a moment?” asked Menas.

“Of course,” I replied with a nod.

Menas stepped inside and shut the door behind him. A few seconds passed, then…

“What?! Is this true?!”

…a bellow rang out from within the chamber. Shortly thereafter, Menas emerged in a fluster and beckoned us inside. The moment I stepped through the door, a bearded man rushed directly over to me.

“So you’re Ars?!” the man shouted. “Is it true that Raven’s deathly ill and bedridden?!”

“Y-Yes, it is,” I stammered. The man’s sheer intensity had me a little taken aback.

“Oh! My apologies,” the bearded man said. “I am Lumeire Pyres, lord of this castle and Count of Canarre. We’ve met once before, Ars, when you were just a lad! You’ve certainly grown a head or two taller since then, though. Do you remember me?”

“I do, yes,” I replied. It was quite a long time ago, so my memory was hazy, but I did indeed recall his face. It wasn’t quite one of my earliest memories, but it was certainly up there. I knew that I’d appraised him, but I couldn’t remember how exactly his stats had looked─just that they were reasonably impressive. And so, I decided to appraise him again to jog my memory.

His Valor was quite high, while the rest of his stats were all reasonable enough. I couldn’t quite call him a model ruler based on his stats alone, however.

“There’s no doubt, then, that your father has gley syndrome…?” he asked, though he didn’t sound very hopeful. “To tell you the truth, my own sister passed away from the very same disease. I know all too well how terrible a malady it is, and I know that Raven must be kept at rest, no matter what happens…”

A relative of his had gley syndrome?

The doctor had told me it was a rare illness, so I’d been surprised to hear that Menas was already familiar with it. But suddenly, it all made sense.

“But look at you!” Lumeire exclaimed, his attitude shifting dramatically and a grin spreading across his face. “Barely a child of ten, yet you’re already going out into the world in your father’s place! You’re a true-born lord, lad, no mistaking it! Now then─the others have yet to arrive, so we’ll have to wait for them before we begin in earnest. Menas, show Ars and his people to their room.”

“Yes, M’lord!” Menas replied, then turned to me. “Follow me, please.”

Menas guided us to a room that had been prepared for us. It was surprisingly large, and furnished with a couch, chairs, and even a bed. Clearly, we were meant to feel at home.

“I’m guessing the count plans to discuss which of the brothers we’ll side with in the oncoming war,” I speculated when we were alone again.

“I’d think so, yes,” said Rietz. “And I imagine that Lord Lumeire has already chosen a side. Most likely, he called us here to inform us of his decision.”

My best guess was that he’d choose to side with the older brother. There was a slight chance he’d ask his lords for their opinions, but I wouldn’t have anything of substance to contribute if he did. With the information at my disposal, I didn’t have any good reason to choose one brother over the other.

A short while later, Menas returned to the room and declared, “The other lords have arrived, and Lord Lumeire requests your presence. Please follow me.”

“Understood,” I replied.

Once again, Menas led us through the castle’s hallways. We eventually emerged in the great hall. A circular table had been set up in its center, at which two men were already seated. I could only assume they were Canarre’s other local lords, which would make the people standing at attention behind them their retainers.

Canarre was split up into four territories: Lamberg, Torbequista, Coumeire, and Canarre, the county’s namesake. In terms of the territories’ size and population, Canarre was overwhelmingly the largest, followed by Torbequista, Coumeire, and finally, Lamberg. It seemed natural to me that the count would directly govern the largest and most populated region, and it really was the largest by far. While Lamberg was smaller than the other two, they weren’t all that much larger.

“It is an honor to meet both of you!” I said, addressing the two lords at the table. “My name is Ars Louvent, and I have come here on behalf of Raven Louvent, the Lord of Lamberg.”

“A pleasure,” said one of the other lords, a man with blond hair. “I am Hammond Pleide, Lord of Torbequista, and I’m to understand that you were an exemplary host to my daughter some time ago. She returned from her visit in the highest of spirits.”

So this is Licia’s father, I thought to myself. I can see the resemblance.

“I’m pleased to learn she was satisfied with what little hospitality we could offer,” I replied.

“Is it true, then, that Raven’s bedridden?” asked Hammond. “I’d have sworn that man could ride through hell itself and emerge no worse for the wear, if you’d asked me a week ago. Then again, knowing him, he’ll beat that illness back and return to us in no time flat. I’m not concerned.”

Despite his protest to the contrary, I got the impression that Hammond really was worried about my father. Of course, he also knew my father well enough to not even consider the possibility that the likes of a mere disease could finish him off.

“I believe we’ve yet to meet, young man,” said the second lord, who looked like he was on the cusp of qualifying as elderly. He spoke in a slow, somewhat stilted tone. “I am known as Krall Orslow, and I serve as lord of Coumeire. It pains me indeed to learn that Raven could not attend today.”

My assumption had proven true: the two men before me were indeed both lords of Canarre. I was just about to appraise both of them, but before I had the chance, I was distracted by Lumeire’s arrival in the chamber. The two lords stood and bowed to him, so I quickly imitated the gesture.

“Rise,” said Lumeire. I raised my head, then followed Lumeire and the other lords’ example once more and took a seat.

“You have my thanks for coming here on such short notice,” Lumeire began. “As I’m sure you’ve already guessed, I’ve called you here on account of the duke’s assassination and the possibility of war between his elder son, Lord Couran, and his younger son, Lord Vasmarque. I wish to take this chance to make my stance on the matter clear.”

That was exactly what I’d expected him to do, and I was proven right once more as Lumeire declared that he intended to support Couran, the elder brother. I stuck to my plan and endorsed his decision without objection. The other lords did the same.

“Good,” said Lumeire. “I’ve nothing else to discuss with you at this moment. Return to your lands and prepare your troops for battle. That is all.”

Wait, it is? That’s it?

I couldn’t believe he’d called us to the county seat for a meeting that barely lasted a matter of minutes. Upon further reflection, though, this was a decision that would carry no small amount of weight going forward, so perhaps that was why he felt the need to give the news in person. The three of us all signaled our understanding, and with that, the meeting came to an end.

We ended up staying the night in the castle. I had the chance to appraise Hammond and Krall during our stay, incidentally, and neither of them struck me as particularly remarkable. The next day soon dawned, and as we finished our travel preparations and made our way out of the castle, a voice called out to me.

“Ars! A moment, if you would.”

It was Hammond.

“Yes? What is it?” I asked, walking over to him.

“I was hoping to ask you about my daughter, as it so happens,” he explained. “She’s been in a rather foul mood as of late. I’ve been told that you exchange letters with her quite frequently, and I was hoping you might know what has soured her so.”

Licia’s been in a bad mood?

Unfortunately, I didn’t have the foggiest idea why that could be. None of the letters she’d sent lately had seemed particularly unusual at all.

Actually…wait a second. I read her letters, yes, and their contents seemed perfectly unremarkable, but…when was the last time I replied to one of them?

I pondered the question…and came to the inescapable conclusion that it had been quite a long time since I’d last sent a letter back to her. I’d intended to write to her, of course, but then my father collapsed, the duke was assassinated, and pretty much everything went to hell in a handbasket all at once. In the thick of all that, I’d totally forgotten to keep corresponding with my fiancée.

Okay, I’ll admit, that was pretty rude of me. But surely Licia knows everything that’s been going on lately, right? A few missed letters can’t have been enough to make her that upset…right? Unless she’s been enjoying our little pen-pal situation more than I’d expected, in which case, well, yeah. I guess that would probably put her in a pretty bad mood.

I confessed to Hammond that I’d forgotten to reply to her letters, and his face lit up in newfound understanding.

“Ahhh, yes, that would do it. You would hardly believe how excited my daughter is for your letters, each and every time. I understand circumstances have been keeping you busy as of late, but I’d greatly appreciate it if you’d send one her way.”

That settled it─if she’d been looking forward to my letters that much, I was the culprit.

“Understood,” I replied sheepishly. “I’ll write to her the moment I get home.”

“Please do,” Hammond said, then bid me farewell.

With that, we left the castle and hurried off to Lamberg.

○

I got home to find a letter from Licia waiting for me. Its contents were short and to the point: “It has been quite some time since I last received any correspondence from you, Sir Ars. Has something happened? Or have I done something to offend you? If so, I would appreciate it if you would tell me what it was.”

It was like she’d written the letter specifically to make me feel as guilty as possible. Actually, considering the way Licia operated, she really might’ve written it with that specific intent in mind. Knowing I was playing into her hands didn’t make me feel any less terrible, though.

I wrote up a reply immediately: “You’ve done nothing wrong, Lady Licia. The simple truth is that between my father’s collapse and the assassination of the duke, I was distracted, so writing back to you slipped my mind. The fault is entirely mine, and I apologize.”

After that, I gathered Rosell and Rietz up in the study to discuss our plans.

“I think the count has the right idea,” I began. “Our top priorities right now should be making sure we have enough troops, and getting them as well-equipped as possible.”

“Our army’s equipment is certainly something we can address,” said Rietz. “But I’m afraid that recruiting more soldiers will be less than feasible under current circumstances. We can ensure that our current troops are as well trained as possible, of course, but it will be difficult to truly strengthen our forces without the ability to bolster numbers.”

“Right, that makes sense,” I replied with a nod.

“If war breaks out before Lord Raven recovers,” Rietz continued, “I’m certain you will wind up leading our men into battle, Master Ars. As such, I believe it is of utmost importance that you learn to command the troops and allow them to acclimate to your lead. Our numbers may not be sufficient for it, but I still believe that leading the men in a mock battle would be a solid course of action.”

A mock battle? That means that unlike the real deal, nobody will die if I screw up.

I definitely liked the sound of that, and I figured it would make for a good experience in all sorts of ways. Hopefully, having a few mock battles under my belt would keep me from panicking when it came time for the real deal.

“Do you have any ideas, Rosell?” I asked, turning to my other top advisor.

“Hmm… You said the count’s planning on backing the older brother, right? Does it look like he has any shot at winning?”

“It’s hard to say with the information we have right now.”

“Gotcha,” said Rosell. “I hate to say it, but that means we’re in a really bad place. If an upstart house like the Louvents end up on the losing side of this war, they could easily get crushed. We need to make sure we end up on the winning side, no matter what happens.”

“That makes sense too,” I sighed. “Still, we can’t exactly defy the count’s orders, can we?”

“If it becomes clear that the older brother’s a lost cause, we’d either have to persuade the count to switch sides…or think about betraying him and jumping ship on our own.”

“Betraying the count…?”

Man, that’s brutal. I guess I might have to start thinking like a feudal warlord if I plan on surviving much longer, though.

“Right now, our biggest problem is that we don’t have enough information,” Rosell continued. “We can’t make plans or talk strategy without a proper understanding of the circumstances. We have to start doing anything and everything we can to learn about the current state of Missian, and we need to do it now.”

“Okay, but what specifically should we do?” I asked.

Rosell paused, then answered, “Ask someone to gather info for us, I guess? We could have a soldier do it.”

“Do you actually think that would work?”

“Hmm…”

Rosell and I fell into thought, which Rietz took as a sign to offer his input. “As a matter of fact, a perfect option for gathering information is available to us: a band of mercenaries who call themselves the Shadows. They specialize in shadow magic, information-gathering, and espionage. They would get us exactly the information we need if we paid their fee…but their services don’t come cheap.”

“Mercenaries…” I muttered. “Hiring them without consulting my father would probably be a step too far. Let’s consider that after he’s recovered enough to discuss the matter.”

“Understood,” said Rietz.

Still, simply learning that there was a band of mercenaries who specialized in that sort of thing was a win. Rosell was right, after all─information was, without question, our most important resource.

“We can’t hire mercenaries yet,” I continued. “However, we can at least pick out a few of our soldiers who seem suited for the role and send them out across Missian. It’s better than doing nothing, at least.”

“Very well─I’ll see to it,” Rietz replied.

With our immediate course of action set in place, we brought the day’s discussion to a close. We had two priorities going forward: engaging in mock battles, and setting up the rudimentary framework of an information network.

Thus, a couple of weeks passed by…and then, once again, the situation suddenly and dramatically changed.

○

I’d spent the past weeks honing my command skills via mock battles and picking out soldiers who seemed naturally suited to spycraft. The former, frankly, hadn’t been going so well. I’d studied my fair share of tactics, but it turned out that knowing the theory of battle and applying it to real, live soldiers under my command were two very different things. From my perspective, a nearly insurmountable barrier stood between me and the leadership skills I was expected to have, that barrier being my inability to set foot on the battlefield without immediately shrinking back in terror.

Even knowing that we were only practicing and that nobody was out for blood, seeing a crowd of soldiers brandishing their blades and charging toward me scared the living daylights out of me, and it was really hard to stay calm and issue orders to your men when you were abjectly terrified. If I was that bad off in a mock battle, I could only imagine the disgrace I’d make of myself when the time came to actually go to war. I was deeply concerned about my future as a military leader.

Choosing spies, meanwhile, had unfortunately proven rather difficult as well. Appraisal wasn’t nearly as useful for the task as one might expect. There was no “Spy” Aptitude, for one thing, and I could only guess which of the base stats would be most useful for that sort of information-gathering work.

It made a certain amount of intuitive sense to me that people with high Valor and Intelligence would make good spies, so I tried to search for candidates with solid scores in both of those stats. We couldn’t just pick some soldiers out of the crowd and send them off into the world with a smile and wave, of course, so Rietz was busy training them for their new positions. He’d done his fair share of spy work back when he was a mercenary, it seemed, so he had enough specialized knowledge to at least get them started.

Then, the fifth day of the fourth month arrived.

“I’ve waited long enough. It’s time for me to resume my duties!”

“You can’t! Please, just rest!”

“Grr!”

My father had regained a considerable amount of strength, which was a good thing, but his ever-intensifying insistence that he get back to work was significantly less promising. We understood that he’d put himself at risk of a relapse if he got right back to it, but he had never been the type to sit still for long. We’d managed to keep him from doing anything risky so far, but I was very worried that we were nearing the limits of his patience.

At long last, I managed to convince him to stay in bed, then walked over to my own room. We’d staged another mock battle the day before, and I was still feeling the exhaustion from that ordeal. I’d decided to spend the day resting up and regaining my strength, and was looking forward to a nice, long nap…until I noticed Rietz charging toward me.

“Master Ars!” he shouted, sounding panicked.

“What is it?” I replied. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m planning to rest today.”

“I’m aware, yes,” gasped Rietz. “However, I’ve just received news that you must hear!”

“What news?”

“Seitz has mobilized an army─and they march upon Canarre!”

“Th-They what now?!”

Suddenly, I was just as worried as Rietz. Seitz was the duchy to the immediate west of Missian, and the County of Canarre was right on the provincial border. It suddenly hit me: I’d been so preoccupied with the conflict between the brothers that I’d completely forgotten we had other potential enemies to deal with! The duke was dead, and the duchy’s major powers were actively splintering into warring factions, so it was the perfect moment for another duchy to step in and snatch up as much territory as they could get their hands on!

“They say the enemy is heading for Coumeire,” Rietz explained. “They’re due to arrive within four days, and a letter from the count has arrived ordering us to dispatch our forces at once!”

Coumeire was situated right on the border, while Lamberg was on the opposite side of the county, meaning we lived further away from Seitz than any other territory. That was only a small comfort, though. If Seitz was going to invade the other territories, it was only a matter of time before they’d advance upon Lamberg as well. Even if the count hadn’t ordered us into action, we would’ve had no choice but to ride to Coumeire’s aid.

My father had recovered considerably, but he was still in no state to ride into battle. In other words, my first stint as commander would be arriving considerably earlier than I’d expected. I was still terrified of mock battles, and yet there I was, staring down the imminent prospect of fighting on a real battlefield. The moment the reality of the situation sunk in, my heart started pounding so fast that I thought I might drop dead on the spot. I was beyond nervous, but I did my best to keep a straight face so Rietz wouldn’t realize it.

“Understood,” I said. “We’ll sortie at once. I’ll take command of our troops.”

Rietz hesitated for a moment, then nodded and said, “Very well.”

He clearly knew just as well as I did that I wasn’t up to the task, but with circumstances as they were, he couldn’t argue against the decision. I could only imagine how conflicted he felt.

The two of us made our way to the training grounds to inform our troops. Rietz explained everything he knew about the enemy forces on the way, but really, it wasn’t much. The count’s letter hadn’t even specified how many of them there were. If they’d sent a massive force, then all of Canarre’s armies combined probably wouldn’t even be able to slow them down, but Seitz had its own fair share of internal strife, so I was hopeful that we weren’t looking at that sort of all-out invasion. If they did hit us with everything they had, then we’d stand no chance of victory and would have no choice but to call for reinforcements. As for whether or not they’d actually come, I couldn’t say.

We arrived at the training grounds and informed the soldiers that we’d be marching into battle. The grounds immediately descended into a flurry of activity: some of our men armed themselves, while others ran off to gather up the soldiers who weren’t on duty at the moment. Charlotte was one of the latter, and arrived at the training grounds in a half-asleep daze. I guess she’d been out like a light until somebody showed up to get her.

When everyone had finally arrived, I stood before our troops. I thought that I had to say something to them to raise their morale before we marched for the front. The second I looked out across their faces, though, the crushing reality of what I was about to do sank in once more, and my anxiety returned in full force. I had to pause for a moment, take a few deep breaths to calm myself down, then finally address the troops in as loud of a voice as I could muster.

“Today, we go to war to protect our homeland of Canarre! I─”

“Hold!”

My speech had started out well enough, but before I could say more than a few words, a booming voice echoed across the grounds, cutting me off. I knew that voice like the back of my hand─it was my father’s, and I turned to look at him in shock. He stormed toward me, his expression more intimidating than any I’d ever seen on his face.

“You’re not ready for this, Ars,” my father bluntly stated.

“F-Father,” was all I could muster.

“I knew you were hiding something from me,” he muttered, looking me right in the eye. “And I suspected that something had happened to the duke. I’ve stayed quiet until now because I know that resting will keep me alive…and I thought that stepping up to work in my place would be a chance for you to grow…but I can’t allow you to go to war in my stead, least of all when the very existence of Canarre hangs in the balance. I will go.”

The look on my father’s face told me that he wasn’t going to change his mind, no matter what anyone said to him. He was absolutely determined to take to the battlefield. I was horrified by the thought, however. If my father went into battle now, and if his condition worsened, there was no coming back! He would die!

“But Father, you’re ill!” I said, making one last attempt to appeal to his reason. “You can’t go to war!”

“I’ve shaken off the worst of it. I’m no longer unable to swing a sword,” my father replied.

“But what if you relapse? You realize you could die, don’t you?”

“I won’t. And even if I do, I could ask for nothing more than to die protecting Canarre─protecting Lamberg and its people.”

What can I say to change his mind?! The man’s absolutely hell-bent on marching off to war!

His condition had improved, clearly, and it was possible he could survive a campaign, but it was equally possible that his condition could deteriorate at any moment. The more mysterious the sickness, the more cautious you had to be. I had to do something, anything to convince him to stay home.

My father decided to keep me from leading our army because he didn’t think I was up to the task…and he was right. Still, I had to find a way to make him think otherwise, no matter what it took.

At that point, Rietz stepped up to the two of us and said, “Lord Raven, you should know that Master Ars─”

“Silence!” my father roared. Rietz’s mouth snapped shut.

“Father,” I said, doing my best to finish his thought, “I’ve been fighting mock battles to prepare myself. I’ll admit that I’m still lacking in many regards, but I swear to you that I will lead our men to glory!”

“And did you fight well in those ‘mock battles’ of yours?” my father asked. “I hardly need to ask─of course you didn’t. I don’t even need to see you in action to know that. You don’t have the face of a warrior yet, Ars.”

I fell silent once more upon hearing those words.

What does “the face of a warrior” even mean? Is it something that only seasoned veterans like him understand?

Seconds passed in silence before my father spoke up again.

“That’s right…in my sickness, I almost forgot. If you’re so convinced you can go to war, Ars, I shall test you, here and now. Gullar!” my father barked, shouting out the name of one of his soldiers. “Is the man in the jail still alive?”

Gullar, one of the older men in the force, snapped to attention and replied, “Y-Yes, he is, more or less. We didn’t think it right to execute him without your express orders.”

“We’ll do it now. Bring him here.”

“Y-Yes, Sir!” Gullar exclaimed as he sprinted off toward the jail.

What in the world is my father up to? What sort of test is this?

Eventually, Gullar returned to the training grounds with a man in tow. The mysterious individual was wearing manacles and absolutely filthy clothing, and he sported a scraggly, unkempt beard.

“Who is he?” I asked.

“His name is Barramorda,” answered my father. “And he is a devil in human skin who murdered, assaulted, and burgled his way through the town of Lamberg until we captured him shortly before I fell ill. I intended to keep him imprisoned long enough to arrange his execution, but thanks to that damnable disease, he slipped my mind…so I’ll do it now. And you, Ars, will watch.”

“And that is to be my test?”

“It is. You are to watch impassively. To remain calm and composed. Should you avert your eyes, or close them, or tremble, or double over with nausea, or show even the slightest speck of distress─you fail. To go to war is to see men die by the dozens, and if that disturbs you, then you are not ready to take to the field. A leader’s ability to stay composed is worth far more than their ability to fight,” my father declared, then gestured toward Barramorda. “If you can watch this man die and not bat an eyelash, then I shall acknowledge that you are a man full grown. I will entrust my army to you and rest quietly within our home, awaiting your return.”

I gritted my teeth.

To watch a man die…and remain completely composed? Can I do this? Could I ever even be capable of it?

I had never seen a battlefield. I had never seen someone die. I’d looked up pictures of corpses once in my last life out of idle curiosity, and just that was enough to make me fall violently ill and swear to never seek that sort of imagery out again. I had no idea if I’d be able to watch a man be executed right in front of me and keep my cool.

As I mulled over the question, though, my father and his men were already preparing to carry out the execution. A wooden block was brought out into the field and Barramorda’s head was pressed up against it, forcing him to his knees. He struggled violently, very literally fighting for his life, but several of my father’s soldiers held him firmly in place as another with an axe stepped up to the block.

“Barramorda!” shouted my father. “You stand convicted of crimes most foul, and I, Raven Louvent, lord of these lands, do hereby sentence you to death!”

With that final word, the soldier with the axe raised it up high, then brought it down upon Barramorda’s neck, severing his head with a single stroke. The head fell to the ground, rolling across the dirt as a jet of crimson blood gushed forth from the stump.

I watched it happen…and was shaken to the very core of my being. I felt my heart pound wildly within my chest, but I couldn’t let my father see that, so I kept my face perfectly expressionless, staring fixedly at Barramorda’s severed head until it rolled to a stop…facing me. The cold, lifeless eyes stared directly into mine…and I just couldn’t hold it back anymore as a wave of intense nausea overwhelmed me. I didn’t vomit, but I did retch.

“You have failed,” my father coldly declared. “There’s no shame in that. Everyone reacts that way the first time. I did as well, in fact. However, if this is enough to make you lose your composure, then you are unfit to lead our troops into battle. I shall go.”

I clenched my fists, staring at the ground, and my father continued, “You’ve always been a precocious child, Ars, and you’ve grown up fast, but you are still a child. It is far too soon for you to go to war… Come now, don’t worry so much. I won’t die, of that I swear.”

I wanted to shout, You’re wrong! I’m no child! I’m a fully grown man inside, dammit! But I couldn’t. I’d been raised in a country at peace, and when it came to witnessing death, I really was no better off than a child.

I couldn’t argue with him or stop him.

My father rode off to battle…and I was left behind at our estate to simply sit and wait for news. Rietz would occasionally send me letters from the front, updating me on how the war was progressing, so I wasn’t completely out of the loop, at least.

The Seitz army turned out to not be so large that defeating them was entirely off the table, but they still had five soldiers to every one of Canarre’s men. Everyone knew they were in for a long, drawn-out conflict, and as expected, the early stages were harsh on our side. In the end, though, the enemy was beaten back thanks in no small part to the daring exploits of House Louvent’s army, spearheaded by my father.

The war dragged on for about four months, and my father returned home on the twelfth day of the eighth month, a mere four days after my twelfth birthday. He seemed perfectly fine when he returned to Lamberg, but five days later, his illness returned with a vengeance.

My father ended up bedridden more often than not, developed a seemingly ceaseless cough, and soon lost his appetite entirely. Not eating took a toll and he quickly wasted away, growing thinner and frailer with each passing day. Finally, one month after his illness returned, his doctor came to us with grave news: my father no longer had any hope of recovery. There was no telling precisely when, but someday soon, he would die.

It was my fault. If I’d been capable enough to lead our army in his stead, if I’d been strong enough to convince him I was ready, then my father would have spent those four months recuperating in our estate. Perhaps then his illness would never have returned. I did everything I could, going out to call on another doctor for a second opinion, and then a third, but they all said the same thing. Still, though, I didn’t stop searching.

I had memories of my previous life, and they might have kept me from ever seeing my father as my true father. Nevertheless, I knew very well that if it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be alive. I would never have been born again, needless to say, but I also never would have been able to lead the life I’d led. My comfortable, strife-free existence was all thanks to him, so I just couldn’t allow him to die thanks to my inadequacy.

“Another failure?” I muttered to myself.

It was the second day of the eleventh month, so summer was just beginning. I’d brought another doctor in from the next county over, but once again, I was told that my father was beyond saving.

“Maybe we should go to a bigger town. I’m thinking we should try Arcantez, the capital of Missian, next. There has to be a doctor there who can help.”

I hadn’t been sending our retainers out to look for doctors. No, that was a task I only entrusted to myself. Anyone who studied medicine would need a high Intelligence, so me being there meant that we could easily weed out the professionals from the quacks.

“Master Ars,” Rietz began, then paused. He looked incredibly conflicted.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Arcantez is an extremely long journey from here. A round trip will take twenty days at the bare minimum, and when we consider how long it will take to find a doctor, the trip may last even longer.”

“I see,” I said with a nod. “Still, I’m willing to go a little out of my way if it’ll help my father recover. I’d be worried about leaving the estate undefended in our absence, though, so you’ll have to stay behind this time. I can take Rosell’s brothers and Charlotte along as guards─I’m sure they’ll keep me safe.”

“That’s not what I meant! If you’re away for too long, then…well…” Rietz trailed off again.

“What is it? Something that’s hard to say?” I asked. “Go on. Don’t hold back now.”

After a brief pause, Rietz finally spoke up once more. “If your search keeps you away for too long, then when the time comes, you may not be there to hear Lord Raven’s last words.”

It felt like my heart had just leaped into my throat. It wasn’t that the thought had never crossed my mind─I just hadn’t been allowing myself to consider it. My father had already wasted away so much that I hardly even recognized him. The pall of death hung heavily over his face, and even when he pulled himself to consciousness, he could barely speak. It would hardly have been a surprise if he passed away the very next day.

“Are you telling me…to give up?” I finally replied.

Rietz didn’t answer directly. Instead, he said, “I believe that if you’re not by Lord Raven’s side when the time comes, you will regret it for the rest of your life. Think carefully, Master Ars, before you go out to search for another doctor.”

I gritted my teeth. The way Rietz had phrased it was so calm, so goddamn composed that it enraged me. It wasn’t his fault, though. He was simply looking at the situation objectively and telling me what he believed I needed to hear most. If anyone was at fault, it was me for refusing to look reality in the eye. I knew it…but I still couldn’t suppress my fury. At the rate things were going, I was going to say something awful to Rietz, so I spun around and left the room without speaking another word.

“Master Ars!”

I figured I’d go spend some time in my room to cool my head, but on the way there, one of our estate’s caretakers called out to me. Specifically, the one who was in charge of nursing my father.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Lord Raven has stirred!” said the servant. “He’s more lucid than he’s been in months…and he says that he wishes to speak to you!”

I was already heading for his room the moment I heard that he was awake and talking. I entered through the door to his chamber and found him in bed, alone.

“You called for me, Father?”

“You’ve arrived, Ars? Good, good,” said my father. I was struck by how clear his voice was. He’d barely been able to talk at all these days, so it felt like it had been ages since I’d heard him speak like this.

My father was as emaciated as ever, but his eyes were clear and full of life. As recently as yesterday he’d had the eyes of a corpse, even when he was conscious, but no, this was the father I used to know─the father with a gaze so strong and full of purpose, he could make lesser men flinch with a mere glance.

“It’s rather warm, isn’t it?” my father observed. “What’s the date today?”

“The second day of the eleventh month,” I replied. “I can fan you if you’re too hot.”

“That won’t be necessary. Summer already, though? It feels like it was springtime just yesterday. I must have slept a long, long time.”

“You did,” I said. “And honestly, it’s been hectic without you around! We’ll be in trouble if you don’t get better soon, you know?”

“Yes, I know, I know. An illness like this can’t keep me down─I’ll shake it off by tomorrow,” my father chuckled, then fell silent. A few seconds passed before he spoke up again. “There’s so much that I still wanted to tell you, Ars.”

“I’ll listen to anything you have to say to me, Father,” I replied. “I want to hear it all.”

“I’ll spare you the trivial small talk, at least. Now’s not the time for that. No, I want to tell you the story of my life,” he said, looking up at the ceiling. “I was not born here in Lamberg. I came from a tiny farming hamlet in a remote corner of Missian. The lord who ruled over that land was an avaricious miser of a man who bled his people nearly to death with taxes. We lived in poverty through no fault of our own. I couldn’t stand that sort of life, and around the time I turned ten, I chose to run away from home and leave the whole village behind to seek my fortune in the city.”

“By some twist of fate, the Duke of Missian had chosen that day to pay the town a visit. Our lord held some measure of seniority within Missian’s nobility, and he had invited the duke to a party, or something of the sort. I forget the details─it was all so long ago. Vague and scattered as my memories are, though, there’s just one thing I remember clearly.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“The sight of the duke, riding through town atop a pure white steed with a host of fully-armored soldiers following in his wake. It shook me to the core, Ars. Until that moment, the only nobles I knew were the corrupt monsters who ground my family into the dirt. I never imagined that one of them could be so magnificent…so noble, in the truest sense of the word. The moment I saw him, I knew what I wanted in life. I wanted to be a man like him─a man who could stand at the head of a vast army and lead them to glory.”

My father’s gaze grew distant as he spun his yarn. I knew he’d been born a farmer, but I’d never heard anything else about what led him to his current station.

“I taught myself to wield a blade, became a soldier, and fought like a man possessed. Eventually, Lord Lumeire recognized my achievements and appointed me a lord of my own domain.”

“Do you still want to become a duke, Father?”

“Heh… I gave up on that dream around the time I married your mother and fathered you, Ars. I may be a petty lord, but compared to the life I used to live, what I have now might as well be heaven. I’m satisfied,” he concluded before descending into another coughing fit.

“Are you all right?!” I asked in a panic.

My father coughed a few more times, then finally caught his breath, sighed, and said with much chagrin, “It seems I’ve spoken too much. Ars…I leave the rest to you.”

I couldn’t bring myself to reply, but my father kept speaking anyway. “This land of Lamberg, and everything within its borders, is a treasure. It is my life’s work. My retainers, my people, my wife, Wren, Kreiz… All of them mean the world to me, and I’m entrusting them to you now. It pains me to place this burden upon your shoulders while you’re still a child, but I have no choice. Ars─your power to see people’s potential is something special. I know you have what it takes to use it well…and to lead House Louvent down the right path.”

“Father…”

“I know how you think, and I know you feel responsible for what’s become of me, but the fault does not rest with you. This is the path that I chose for myself. Now it’s up to you to stand tall and carry on the Louvent name. Do you understand?”

I didn’t know what to say. Answering him would have felt like admitting that he truly was on his deathbed.

“Say something, Ars. Please…put my mind at ease.”

“I…” I paused, more conflicted than I’d ever been before, but finally nodded. “I do.”

“Good. Then I leave the rest…to you…”

My father closed his eyes and fell into a deep, peaceful slumber. He showed no signs of waking as two days passed…and on the third, he drew his final breath.

○

“From this day onward, I, Ars, shall succeed my father Raven as the head of House Louvent!”

I did as my father told me. I stood tall and proud, declaring that I would carry on his legacy for all of his retainers to hear.

My father had spent a lifetime building House Louvent from the ground up. Hard times were upon us, so an insignificant noble family like ours would surely struggle to survive. Thus, I had to be strong. I had to wield my power to the fullest, to help my people and my land stand firm, and to protect everything that my father held dear. I was resolved to see it done.

A few days after my father passed, word arrived that the eldest son of the late Duke of Missian, one Couran Salemakhia, had mustered an army. From that day forward, I would lead House Louvent through a turbulent era of war and bloodshed.