The Damn Family Is Back Again - Chapter 277



Chapter 277. Afterparty (5)

Willard Stephan.

He held immense pride in the fact that my father was a knight.

Having returned victorious from several monster hunts, he gained recognition during the era of the Empire’s unification, handpicked by Crown Prince Albert to truly make a name for himself.

Thanks to that, the name of Sir Carlton Stephan spread widely across the Empire.

From the bustling streets to the knightly orders, even among the nobility, my father’s name was spoken of like that of a celebrity.

To be the child of such a remarkable man was reason enough for great pride.

This became a significant turning point for Willard.

“You wish to become a knight?”

“Yes!”

He would take up the sword.

He had resolved to become a knight.

“Why do you want to be a knight?”

“I want to be a great man, like my father!”

Carlton, stroking Willard’s head, readily gave his consent.

From that moment on, Willard began his training directly under Carlton.

The training to wield a sword commenced.

A thousand times, ten thousand times, he swung, blisters forming on his hands.

He fell and stumbled, bruised by the wooden sword countless times.

Yet still.

For Willard, the path to knighthood was a joy.

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Clashing swords, sweating, determining victory and defeat, his only goal was to follow the sturdy back of his father.

Then one day.

As Willard relentlessly pursued the grueling training, Carlton spoke to him.

“There are virtues of a knight, you know?”

“Yes.”

The virtues to be learned on the path of knighthood.

It was not merely about swinging a sword and sustaining wounds.

What must be imbued in the tip of the sword was solely one’s own body and spirit.

Do not be swayed by the unseen, fanciful things; instead, infuse your own values and beliefs.

And then.

“The knight’s sword must always carry respect.”

Such were the virtues of knighthood that Carlton spoke of.

To young Willard, it was a tale far too difficult to grasp.

So perplexing that he hardly knew how to accept it.

Still, Willard resolved to remember the virtues of knighthood that Carlton had spoken of.

For a knight of pride, these were the qualities to uphold.

To be a true knight, one must never turn a blind eye to such virtues.

He believed, without a shadow of doubt, that as he took steps closer to becoming a knight like his father, he would one day grasp their meaning.

Yet.

Before his very eyes, that belief shattered.

“I have lost.”

Just once.

It was in the act of bowing his head after their swords had clashed.

As his mind expanded, Willard began to understand the virtues Carlton had mentioned.

It was a call for training not just of the body, but of the spirit as well.

A virtue urging him to imbue his sword with the values and beliefs he held, rather than mere wealth or possessions.

And…

The final tenet was always to respect one’s opponent and to face them with utmost effort.

But.

To declare surrender after just one exchange?

In a duel fought under the banner of a knight’s pride, to so easily concede felt like a betrayal of those very virtues.

He could not comprehend it.

Perhaps the condition was poor.

Maybe the equipment was in disrepair, warranting a postponement.

No. Even if that were the case, he thought there must be other reasons lurking beneath.

Yet, Willard’s hopes had been dashed time and again.

“I have lost, my lady.”

“I shall concede, my lady.”

“With my unskilled blade, I cannot reach you, my lady.”

Carlton would simply declare surrender every time he met someone.

Even if it were a tournament of combat.

Unable to bear it any longer, Willard clenched his teeth that day and sought out his father.

“Why do you keep conceding? Father!”

“…Willard.”

“I cannot understand. Time and again, every time my father meets that man, he concedes.”

“…”

“Tell me! Why on earth does he concede?”

As Willard pressed with desperate urgency, Carlton closed his eyes tightly.

“Because I cannot defeat the princess. Willard.”

“Father!”

“I am old, am I not? The opponent is formidable, you see. Know this.”

The only person Carlton declared his concession to was one:

The eldest daughter of the Duke of Bagrand. Arina Bagrand.

Indeed, she is a force to be reckoned with.

Every time a tournament arises, she dominates the rankings, known for her mastery in both martial and scholarly pursuits, the next head of the Bagrand lineage.

Yet, does that mean his father is so weak?

To give up without even contesting?

To be so feeble as to fall in a single bout?

‘That cannot be true!’

Willard had received teachings from his father for decades.

Thus, he was even more convinced.

If he were to face Arina, surely they could engage in a worthy contest.

If he unleashed his true strength, it would be entirely possible to press her or corner her.

Yet, every time he encounters that person, he concedes…

The virtues he had learned from his father rose unbidden to the surface.

“Is it… because she is Lady Arina?”

“Willard.”

“How can it be that you cannot even draw your sword against the master of the Bagrand house?!”

Willard shouted vehemently.

“Is this the path of training both body and mind?! A sword wielded not for greed of wealth, but imbued with one’s own values and beliefs?! And…!”

Crack.

“Is this what it means to respect your opponent, the pride of a knight?!”

Because she is a princess?

Is it because of a higher rank and status than oneself?

Is that truly a reason to declare forfeiture, even with the spirit of a knight so deeply sunk?

‘What kind of nonsense is that!’

It’s a battle of knight against knight.

They fight not just with flesh, but with their very minds and souls poured into that blade.

It’s a clash that transcends rank or title, a confrontation where pride as a knight is at stake!

To that question, Carlton offered no answer.

“It is because the sword holds no value.”

Such cryptic words were all he left behind.

After that, Father did not participate in any tournaments.

He was nowhere to be seen in any contest, any match.

He simply retreated into the order, teaching the newcomers.

It felt as if he had cast aside all the virtues of a knight, choosing defeat, and after meeting Arina, he had laid down his sword.

Willard could not understand his father, giving up simply because the opponent was Princess Arina.

So, driven by stubbornness, he had applied for the martial arts tournament with his lacking skills. He wanted to know why, at the very least.

Then one day.

Willard attended the martial arts tournament, just like any other.

And once again, he saw his father’s figure.

– Pshhht!

‘What was that… just now…!’

From none other than Carsein.

*

Since that day.

Willard had never once forgotten the name Carsein.

Time flowed.

An opportunity arose.

By some twist of fate, he found himself face to face with Carsein, and this time he could hear his vow loud and clear.

No matter how it had been in the past, he hoped for a proper confrontation this time.

It would be even better if he could win, but he wished not to witness the sight of choosing defeat.

He longed to reclaim the virtues of his father that had been stolen away.

However.

—I shall forfeit.

Once again, Karsein chose defeat.

The reason eluded me entirely.

It felt as if my father’s convictions had shattered not once, but twice.

Moreover, it seemed as though the very value of the beliefs that followed had been tarnished.

I could not hide my disappointment.

So I sought out Karsein and asked him.

“Can you explain why you declared a forfeit in the finals?”

He had stated clearly beforehand.

That he would win. Responding as if to say, “Just watch.”

It was only natural to be angry, for that promise had been broken.

Yet Willard held his tongue. Even as disappointment surged within him.

As he suppressed the anger that mingled with that disappointment.

“Because there is no worth in fighting Arina.”

Seeing Karsein once more echo the words of my father, Carlton, Willard’s eyes widened.

No worth.

Did that phrase carry a hidden meaning?

Was it not true that my father had not lost without reason, casting aside the virtues of a knight?

“What… do you mean by that?”

If so, I wanted to know.

The true intent of my father.

Karsein let out a hollow laugh as he replied.

“Arina harbors feelings of inferiority towards me.”

“Inferiority? Towards you?”

“Yes. Until recently, there were rumors that I might be a candidate for the next head of the Bargrand Duke’s family. Just that alone was enough to unsettle Arina. So I chose to forfeit without even crossing swords.”

He placed his hand upon the hilt of his sword.

“A sword steeped in such trivial inferiority is not worth clashing with.”

At Karsein’s words, Willard recalled the voice of his father, which he had struggled to understand.

—Why does Lady Arina not imbue that sword with the virtues of a knight?

In the dead of night, alone with his sword, my father once spoke such words.

He muttered them as if lamenting to the heavens.

“I am not one to wield this blade, consumed by ugly jealousy and inferiority, to distinguish between triumph and defeat.”

Clang.

“I grasp this sword to protect myself, to rise on my own strength.”

His eyes sparkled with intensity.

From the depths of his darkened mind, a single ray of light began to spread.

A shiver coursed through his body, and Willard slightly parted his lips.

“You were the child of Carlton, weren’t you, Willard?”

“…Yes.”

“The sword Carlton taught you, was it of that kind?”

Certainly not.

‘So it is… Father did not abandon the virtues of a knight.’

Arina Vagrand.

She was not worth confronting, for there was no value in clashing with her.

He understood the conviction that lay within the blade.

He knew how foolishly his opponent grasped the sword.

And thus, he chose not to engage.

For there was no worth in it.

The sword of one who does not respect their opponent.

At last, Willard could smile with a sense of relief.

“Absolutely, absolutely not!”

The path of the sword my father taught was not wrong.

*

“Thank you, brother!”

Willard beamed as he dashed away.

It struck me as quite peculiar.

Watching Willard and Carlton. And recalling the backstory I had uncovered while progressing through this episode in the game.

I found myself naturally thinking of that junior and his mentor.

The father of the boy who had declared forfeit time and again.

He was also a master of the swordsmanship dojo. At the same time, he was still a competitor, participating in tournaments with his towering frame.

Thus, even though I was ignorant of the scene woven with this dead flag, I could choose the answer.

“Are you satisfied now?”

As I turned, the knight who had been hiding appeared.

Naturally, the knight was a familiar figure.

“Yes, my lord.”

Carlton smiled, as if relieved.

That smile resembled that of the master.

Carlton briefly gazed at the place where Willard had rushed off, then spoke of the circumstances that had led to this moment.

He had deliberately chosen to forfeit against Arina.

The path of the sword he had taught had begun to diverge, straining his relationship with Willard.

And finally, that Karsein had made the same choice as him.

There were parts that resonated with understanding.

—Ding!

▶Successfully restored the father-son relationship between Willard and Carlton.◀

▶The hidden backstory is revealed!◀

‘Ha ha… this was truly dangerous.’

So that chaos was Willard’s descent into darkness.

The scene where Carlton suddenly drew his sword against Arina before the bad ending was included for that reason.

…Somehow, I was beginning to grasp why the dead flag was so intertwined.

“Forgive my somewhat presumptuous question, but do you truly have no interest in the position of head of the family?”

“Indeed.”

“I see. I must be cautious not to go against your will.”

With such words, there would be no blemish, I suppose.

Yet… was it just my imagination?

There seemed to be a faint, yet palpable, hint of regret in Carlton.

“My lord… you surely have some plans in mind, do you not?”

“However.”

“Would you not consider including me in those plans?”

As Carlton lowered his head, a status window appeared.

This is…

“I can become your sword, my lord.”

– Ding!

▶ All conditions met; the emergency event has been cleared at a perfect rating. ◀

▶ Carlton’s intimacy has surpassed 80%. ◀

▶ High-ranking nobles and connections linked to Carlton, including the First Knight Order, turn favorably towards you. ◀

▶ Noblesse Points have increased! ◀

[ Current Value: -77 ]

Unexpected gains from an unforeseen source, huh?

We exchanged a few more words after that.

From Carlton’s lips spilled the names of nobles who could prove quite helpful for my endeavors.

I knew he had some level of recognition, but it seemed he was not just a figure of the knight order; he had made quite a name for himself outside as well.

Thanks to that, there were a considerable number of nobles he could introduce me to. This fellow, more connected than he appeared?

“Though I’ve aged a bit now, ha ha. In my youth, I once hunted beasts alongside His Highness the Crown Prince.”

A key player in the hunt alongside the Crown Prince. A figure of unexpected stature, indeed.

‘…So perhaps Carlton’s training is particularly well-suited to my body after all.’

In truth, when I accepted Carlton’s curriculum during training in the knight order, the stat increases were notably high.

Ding.

The bell rang, signaling the start of the after-party.

“It’s about time for the festivities to begin.”

“Oh dear. My son and I have taken up too much of your time, my lord. I apologize.”

“No need for apologies.”

Just looking at the Noblesse Points, I should consider myself immensely helped.

The episode was about to commence.

I told Carlton I would head on ahead, then left that field to move to another map.

And once again, the status window chimed.

– Ding!

▶ Episode V. The After-Party of the Martial Arts Tournament is in progress. ◀

▶ Conditions have been unlocked due to the emergency event clearance. ◀

▶The number of trade targets meeting the criteria for Another Plan has significantly increased at the after-party!◀

“Gains beyond what was anticipated are quite delightful.”

It was an opportunity to amass a fortune.

*

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“Let go of this! Bursting in here without warning, what in the world is…!”

“Silence. Marquis.”

“Gah?!”

-Click!

As if dealing with a criminal, the guards fasten magical handcuffs around him.

“What, what is this… handcuffs?”

“A sinner who sought to bring a great backlash upon the Empire! Take him to the royal underground prison!”

“A sinner, you say! Don’t spout nonsense! What crime have I committed to deserve this…!”

The Marquis, veins bulging and face contorted, shouts.

“Is there anyone who claims I’ve sinned? Come, let me see the face of that man and hear him speak!”

“If it’s a witness, I’m right here.”

“What, what…!”

Flowing violet hair.

A face that could be counted among the most beautiful in the Empire.

Not a single hair out of place, a perfect demeanor.

The owner of that voice was Harnié.