Chapter 106: 107 We Are Not Enemies

Chapter 106, 107. We Are Not Enemies

After the banquet, Rowning wheeled Viggins back to his study—just enough to fulfill the appearance of duty.

To Rowning, he felt no kinship with anyone in Wushan Castle.

Yet, as he himself had said, the blood of the Wushan family flowed in his veins—something he could neither change nor deny. His bond with the Wushan clan would never be severed, and this connection must be maintained.

Inside the study, Rowning and Viggins’ conversation did not last long; neither had much to say.

Rowning seized the moment to mention his desire to recruit craftsmen in Wushan City, and his plan to relocate the families of the previous batch of guards to Forest Town by year’s end.

Whether it was because Rowning had conquered the barbarian tribes and fulfilled one of Viggins’ long-held wishes, or because he had agreed to lead the Wushan family’s forces, Viggins was unusually courteous—and granted every request without hesitation.

After this brief exchange, Rowning left Viggins’ study.

Outside, Bretton leaned against the wall, his silhouette stretched long across the floor by the glow of the magical crystal lanterns lining the corridor.

At thirteen, Bretton stood nearly one meter sixty—tall enough to look anything but a child.

“Has your talk with Father ended, brother?”

Rowning nodded. “Waiting for me?”

“Yes!”

Bretton smiled. “I have so much I want to say to you.”

They had spoken before, but never intimately—mainly because their lifestyles diverged so sharply.

The former had favored freedom, indulgence, and pleasure.

Bretton, however, had poured nearly all his energy into training and study—hence why, at thirteen, he had awakened his Battle Aura Seed and become a professional knight.

On Earth, the former would have been a spoiled, idle heir, while Bretton would have been a driven, rising star.

Now, the spoiled heir had fallen—and the rising star had taken his place.

They found a spare room. Servants immediately brought candles, illuminating the space.

Rowning waited in silence, watching his younger brother hand him a glass of juice, then lift his own to sip.

“I truly appreciate you giving up your inheritance.”

Bretton offered the juice with one hand, sipping from the other.

“I’ve always believed our Wushan family needs a strong heir. Forgive me for saying so—but Father isn’t capable, and neither are you.”

Rowning didn’t know what came next. Was this boy about to gloat? To revel in petty triumph?

“You know I didn’t want to give up the inheritance. Grandfather thought you were more suited.”

Rowning raised his glass, took a sip, and smiled. “Actually, that’s fine. You awakened your Battle Aura Seed at thirteen. If you train hard, perhaps by thirty you’ll catch up to Grandfather—and become a Star-Class Knight.”

“Someone like you truly is better suited to lead the Wushan family, and restore its former glory!”

Bretton froze. He hadn’t expected such unwavering affirmation—it silenced the words he’d rehearsed.

Yet he wasn’t angry. His eyes gleamed. “Really, brother? You truly believe that?”

Rowning’s tone was absolute. “Of course. I’ve always believed it.”

“Thank you.”

Bretton’s smile widened. “I was afraid Grandfather giving you the inheritance would make you hate me. I’m relieved—you don’t.”

Rowning didn’t.

Had he lived in this world for years before losing the inheritance, he might have despised Bretton.

But he’d lost it the very day he arrived—so the inheritance felt like an alien thing, distant, unreal.

As the saying goes: how can you mourn what you never loved?

By contrast, losing something you’d possessed—like the title of Baron of Forest Town, now being stripped from him—would make him furious.

“Many out there say that once you gained the inheritance, you’d crush me, persecute me—even kill me.”

Bretton’s voice dripped with disdain, his gaze steady, locked on Rowning’s eyes.

“We are both Wushan. We share the same silver hair, the same dark eyes. We are brothers! How could I ever raise a hand against you? They underestimate me.”

For a moment, Rowning couldn’t tell what the boy truly meant.

He could only nod. “People talk. We can’t control their tongues.”

“You’re right!”

Bretton laughed. “Besides speaking of this, I’ve another favor to ask.”

Rowning raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”

Bretton hesitated. “I heard your Forest Town has few people—even with the three barbarian tribes, maybe two or three thousand at most. That’s not enough to develop the land. So… could I have the barbarians’ territories?”

“You still care about managing those mountains?”

Rowning frowned. These people didn’t even know the value of mulberry and porcelain—why did everyone keep clamoring for those lands?

Just to hoard them?

“Training and cultivation take up all my time. How could I manage that?”

Bretton shook his head. “You know the Sain Domain is full of swamps, with little arable land. If we could use those barbarian territories, development would accelerate—and they’d become a powerful asset for me in the future.”

“So I plan to assign Baron Raisen to manage them.”

Of course. In the end, he dragged Sain into it. Clearly, their bond was strong—Bretton had even become his advocate.

“But the right to manage land rests with Grandfather, doesn’t it?”

Rowning studied Bretton, his gaze questioning: Do you speak for him?

Bretton patted his chest. “Don’t worry. Grandfather doesn’t care about such small matters—he leaves them to Father. I’ll just speak to him.”

Indeed, most of Wushan’s governance had long been delegated to Viggins. Rulans rarely interfered.

Rowning considered, then shook his head. “Bretton, you’re too late. I’ve already asked Grandfather for the rights to those three territories—and he granted them to me.”

Bretton blinked, surprised at Rowning’s speed.

“That’s fine. Just tell Grandfather to transfer the rights to Sain. I’ll make sure Raisen pays you at least five hundred gold coins as compensation!”

Rowning smiled faintly—and shook his head again.

He’d flattered Bretton earlier because kind words cost nothing. Now, when real interests were at stake, he wouldn’t yield.

“I’m sorry. I have no intention of relinquishing this right. And who says I’ll manage those lands worse than Raisen of Sain?”

Bretton frowned slightly. “But you have so few people—how can you possibly manage such vast lands? Or is five hundred gold coins not enough? If so, I can negotiate more for you.”

From Bretton’s expression, Rowning saw hesitation—and a flicker of panic. Had he not anticipated refusal? Had he no backup plan?

He decided to probe deeper. See if Bretton was truly targeting him.

“Bretton,” Rowning said, locking eyes with him, “you just said we’re brothers.”

“Then why are you helping an outsider try to take from me what’s mine?”

“I…”

Breton suddenly felt as if the Rowning before him were a stranger—completely unlike the boy he once knew. The aura emanating from the other sent a wave of unease through him.

“Baron Resen sent his son—my classmate Moravi—to speak with you,” he explained. “And I have to admit, what he said makes sense. After all, the Sain territory has ample manpower; they could rapidly develop those regions and bring us more tax revenue for the Ushan family.”

Rowning’s gaze softened somewhat.

Breton was, after all, only a thirteen-year-old boy. Though he often projected confidence and composure, it was all born of his cultivation talent—nothing else set him apart.

It was like a top student who aced math, physics, and chemistry but collapsed utterly in physical fitness.

In negotiation, in persuasion—Breton was clearly inept. His personality lacked strength.

“Don’t worry,” Rowning said. “I’ll find a way to solve your manpower problem. I promise—I’ll manage it better than he ever could.”

“Alright… fine…”

Breton shrugged helplessly. “I always knew I wasn’t cut out to be a diplomat. Negotiating is more exhausting than cultivation.”

Rowning smiled. “I can see that.”

The atmosphere in the small room eased.

Breton sighed. “Mother told me many nobles harbor ill intentions toward Ushan Castle. She urged me to win more of them to our side. Now that Baron Resen of Sain has become a Bronze Knight, perhaps we should draw closer to him.”

Rowning’s heart stirred. He filed the words away.

In his memory, Baron Resen had merely been a high-ranking knight. He hadn’t expected the breakthrough.

“Diane’s words are wise,” Rowning nodded in agreement. “But no matter how much you court Resen, he remains an outsider. I am your brother. Though our mothers differ, as you just said—we both belong to Ushan.”

“Yes, you’re right, brother!”

As if a dam had broken, Breton relaxed entirely, pulling up a chair and sinking into it.

“Father is no longer capable, and Grandfather’s health grows worse by the day. Soon, the Ushan family will rest only on you and me.”

Breton spoke earnestly. “I hope you’ll summon the same courage you showed when conquering the barbarian tribes. Become a mighty lord—and together, let us restore our family’s former glory!”

(End of Chapter)