Chapter 2: 2 Seeking a Way Out

Chapter 2: Seeking a Way Out

Following Rulance's pledge, a fresh tide of contention swelled within the grand hall of the Black Mountain Fortress.

It fell chiefly to Wiggins and the three knights of Nigan to hammer out the terms of reparation, a process invariably steeped in petty bartering.

From that juncture onward, not a single soul spared another breath on Ronin, acting precisely as though he bore no relevance to the affair whatsoever.

"A mere instrument, indeed."

Ronin muttered under his breath; though he had caught the opening salvos of the hall's dispute, his attention was soon stolen away by the throbbing ache in his legs.

His predecessor had spent his days drowned in wine and flesh, leaving his constitution wretchedly frail and utterly hollowed out.

If circumstance allowed, he desperately wished to stand and flit away from this oppressive hall.

Yet the hour was not yet ripe.

Though he had weathered the immediate crisis unscathed, he remained blind to what destiny awaited him in the aftermath.

Customarily, a disinherited noble was either dispatched to some far-flung township to manage the clan's estates, or kept like a pampered hound within the castle walls; the more wretched sort were stripped of their very lineage and cast out, if they did not meet an untimely end.

What manner of fate lay in store for him?

"As long as it isn't a dungeon cell or house arrest, I can endure it."

The dispute dragged on for upwards of an hour before the three knights of Nigan finally departed the fortress, wearing expressions of smug contentment with the outcome.

Barring any unforeseen turns, officials from both factions would soon arrive to flesh out the finer details and draft the formal treaty.

At that moment, Ronin, kneeling until his lower limbs grew entirely numb, forced himself to snap awake.

The outsiders had vanished; now came his own reckoning.

A heavy silence gripped the Black Mountain Fortress for a lingering moment before Wiggins, consumed by fury, snatched a crystal goblet from his side and hurled it at Ronin's feet, shattering it to glittering shards.

"It is entirely because of you that the family has bled such a ruinous price!"

Ronin felt a powerful urge to counter that Wiggins' own son had already paid with his life, yet he lacked the audacity to voice such a retort.

From his high seat, the old Marquis cast a sidelong glance at the son he so thoroughly disdained, demanding in a freezing tone: "And where exactly do you fare better than Ronin? *Cough, cough...*"

"To scatter your forces in assault without even fathoming the enemy's strength on the field, and then to grant Sland's request—a mere logistical officer—to lead a charge? Is your head packed with nothing but horse manure?"

"*Cough, cough... Cough, cough, cough!*"

The more he spoke, the fiercer his rage grew, sending the old Marquis into a violent fit of coughing.

Wiggins possessed a naturally volatile temper, yet beneath his father's scathing rebuke, he could only withdraw his head in sullen dejection and fall silent in his chair.

"Alas!"

Once Rulance had mastered his breath, he let loose a heavy, world-weary sigh; this worthless son of his seemed entirely blind even now to the profound gravity of Selena's suicide, his political instincts desperately dull.

Had his eldest son, Greymus, been present, he would have been spared these ceaseless vexations.

Rulance shifted his gaze toward the still-kneeling Ronin and, perhaps out of sheer boredom, casually inquired: "Ronin, my grandson, how do you perceive this matter?"

In his heart, he sighed once more; this eldest grandson of his direct line possessed a temperament identical to Wiggins in his youth.

Nay, he was worse; at least Wiggins had mastered the battle-aura, whereas Ronin was nothing more than an ordinary mortal.

Hearing the Marquis address him, Ronin raised his head.

Though he could not fathom why Rulance would pose such a query to him, he understood that the merit of his answer might well dictate his future station.

"A conspiracy—it is an outright conspiracy!"

The intellect of his predecessor had been notoriously dim, so he took care to speak with deliberate vagueness.

"Though the events of that night elude my memory, Selena and I shared a mutual affection. Had anything truly transpired, she would never have taken her own life. There is indubitably a conspiracy behind this!"

An unexpected gleam flickered in Rulance's eyes; could this grandson of his truly possess such insight?

Furthermore, stripped of his birthright at this very hour, should he not be weeping upon the floor, plunged into endless remorse and sorrow?

"Rise, my grandson, and tell me: what sort of conspiracy do you envision?"

Ronin breathed a quiet sigh of relief, gritting his teeth against the searing discomfort as he slowly hoisted himself up; his hour of physical penance had finally drawn to a close.

He paused to reflect, carefully assembling his words.

"Grandfather, I believe someone assassinated Selena and subsequently framed me, thereby driving a wedge into our relations with the Hyde family. Their aim was to render the Black Mountain Domain more restless and unstable, ultimately achieving its balkanization!"

In truth, he would have preferred to name it a plot by the Hyde family itself, but such an understanding ran too deep, scarcely resembling something his predecessor could conceive; thus, he offered a shallower deduction.

Yet even this modest conjecture caused Rulance to nod in approval. "To possess such a layer of understanding proves your mind is somewhat sharper than your father Wiggins'."

Wiggins seemed on the verge of speaking out—had the old man truly lost his wits? This foolish son, smarter than him?

To imagine an attempt to estrange Hyde and Black Mountain; in his eyes, this was nothing short of Ronin spouting utter nonsense.

"There is a measure of sense in what you say."

Rulance offered a faint smile, gesturing for Ronin to take a seat to the side.

In truth, within the depths of his own mind, he had already begun to question whether this Selena was genuinely of the Hyde family bloodline.

However, there was no necessity to give voice to his suspicions.

"It is just as well to let Breton inherit; that little fellow has already nurtured the seeds of battle-aura at a mere thirteen years of age, and his future achievements will surely eclipse yours. Blessed with the backing of the Hyde family, our house shall remain firmly seated upon the Black Mountain Domain."

Ronin's expression shifted slightly as a profound realization dawned within him.

Perhaps from the very dawn of this affair, the old Marquis had understood perfectly what the Hyde family sought.

The old Marquis held no regard for Wiggins, nor did he favor Ronin's predecessor; thus, upon discerning the Hyde family's intent, he had simply ridden the current to strip Ronin of his inheritance.

Rather than watching the Black Mountain Domain crumble into fragments after his demise, it was far better to secure the Hyde family's absolute devotion, ensuring that the master of Black Mountain still bore the family name.

Consequently, from beginning to end, Rulance had displayed no wrath toward Ronin, lacking even the faintest shred of reproach.

This realization set Ronin's mind at ease; perhaps he might leverage this loss of inheritance to wring out a few benefits?

"Losing your birthright may well prove a blessing for you."

Rulance continued, "Though you hold no claim to succession, you remain a child of my Black Mountain line; there is no hardship in idling away your remaining years within this castle."

To idle away his years?

Ronin was still in his youth, having gone through the trials of transmigration with great difficulty; he had no desire to lead an existence within this fortress where the end of his days could be foreseen at a single glance.

Moreover, lingering at the very eye of this vortex might well cost him his miserable life; it was far wiser to depart at the earliest hour.

"Grandfather, I do not wish to spend my days idling in the castle!"

The moment Ronin's words left his lips, they drew a furious torrent of abuse from Wiggins. "What? The family provides for you, and yet it is not enough? Believe me, I shall cast you out of this house directly!"

Yet Rulance merely inquired with a genial chuckle, "Oh? Then what is it you wish to do?"

This single retort instantly choked back the wrath Wiggins was about to unleash, leaving him thoroughly discomfited.

Yet it was precisely because the old patriarch had manifested no anger or blame from start to finish that Ronin sensed an opportunity to extract his prize.

Naturally, an outright, rigid demand would ring hollow; he needed to play his part through his speech.

Thus, Ronin allowed his countenance to fall into profound desolation, adopting a guise of aching sorrow and deep regret.

"Grandfather, and father... because of the blunder I so foolishly committed, the family has paid an immense price. From yesterday until this very moment, my heart has been consumed by shame and self-reproach!"

As he spoke, Ronin rubbed his eyes forcefully, discomfort causing two tears to seep from the corners.

"I don't want to be a useless member of the family who only eats and drinks. I want to make up for my mistakes, I want to manage the family's business, even if it’s as a baron in a remote small town, I’m willing to go and earn profits for the family!"

Without a title, Ronin was still a noble.

But with a title, he could activate the golden finger.

This was his true desire.

"You actually want me to grant you a barony?"

Viggins was so angry his beard seemed about to explode. "Do you have the ability to manage a small town?"

"Haha, cough, cough..."

Lulans laughed until he coughed, exhausted today, his old illness leaving him utterly weary.

"It’s rare for you to have this ambition, and your idea is quite good. Moreover, you’ve noticed the conspiracy behind Selina’s death, which shows your mind isn’t as foolish as I imagined."

At this point, the old Marquis paused. "I can give you a chance."

He looked at his son. "Viggins, choose a remote small town for Ronin, let him try his hand. Even if he manages poorly, it’s not crucial."

Most importantly, this would keep Ronin away from Black Mountain City, which was good for everyone.

Ronin smiled, happy to distance himself from the center of this turmoil.

"Thank you, grandfather, I will manage well and not fail the family’s gift!"

But Viggins’ face was unpleased. "Father, you are too indulgent with him. This guy simply craves pleasure. After this war, those who have earned merit haven’t been rewarded yet, but giving Ronin land first—that’s not appropriate!"

Lulans didn’t elaborate further on the topic, instead slowly rising with his cane, preparing to leave.

"My body is getting worse, probably only two or three years from death. As the Earl of Black Mountain City and the future heir of Black Mountain Territory, can you think more objectively about something?"

Viggins shut his mouth, unsure why his father was suddenly angry with him.

Yet, seeing his increasingly frail father, he felt bitter.

A knight at the peak of Meteor rank, under normal circumstances, could live at least 110 years, but Lulans, due to severe injuries thirty years ago, was in terrible health, now nearing his limit at 75.

"Alright, Father!"

Viggins sighed, thinking, then said, "Let Ronin serve as Baron of Forest Town, managing it for us, so those who earned merit won’t have much complaint."

Forest Town?

Ronin’s ears perked up; his former self’s mind held no information about Forest Town, presumably a remote place.

But what was Viggins’ last sentence implying? Why would those who earned merit not have much complaint?

Lulans’ footsteps paused, as if wanting to say something, but he ultimately didn’t.

"As you wish."

The old Marquis continued leaving the hall.

Meanwhile, Ronin smiled, because in his view, the line of text changed:

[Title obtained, system activating...]

"Grandfather, I’ll help you!"

Ronin cheerfully rushed forward, grateful to this elder.

"Hah, you’re a bit more attentive than before."

At the same time, Lulans sighed inwardly. "If you had changed earlier, perhaps I wouldn’t have stripped your inheritance rights."

But it was all too late.

(End of chapter)