Chapter 5: 5 Seeking Funding

Chapter 5: Seeking Sponsorship

"Ah, Romlin, is that you?"

From within the chamber, Rulance leaned back against the headboard of his bed. Hearing Romlin's voice, he found it rather curious that his grandson was showing such uncharacteristic attentiveness today. "What brings you here to see me?"

"Heheh..."

Romlin approached the bedside with a genial smile, feigning a look of sheepish embarrassment.

"Grandfather, I've just been looking into the situation regarding the Mountainwood Town. It seems rather impoverished and perilous over there; going out all by myself feels terribly unsafe."

"Ahem! Cough!" Rulance let out a couple of dry coughs.

He had briefly entertained the notion that the boy had matured, yet he had not expected him to still flinch at the first sight of hardship, which kindled a spark of displeasure within the old man. "So, you intend to back out?"

"No!"

Romlin answered with utmost resolve. "Since I truly desire to atone for my transgressions and wish to contribute to the family, I shall not be deterred by a mere hint of danger!"

"Oh?" Rulance's expression softened slightly.

Romlin gave another sly chuckle. "But Grandfather, with me being entirely on my own, many matters will be exceedingly difficult to manage."

He even went so far as to mimic the petulant sway of a young maiden, gently shaking Rulance's withered, aged hand. "Thus, I hope the family might assign a few guards or elite soldiers to accompany me, and perhaps grant me a small sum of gold coins to purchase provisions and weapons."

"Surely Grandfather would not wish to see his eldest grandson perish before even reaching Mountainwood Town; I still hope to return and attend your birthday banquet later this year!"

"Hahaha..."

Rulance burst into laughter, partly because Romlin was already taking his birthday into consideration, and partly due to the boy’s visible growth. He had never expected this otherwise shiftless and unlettered lad to actively contemplate the future, much less know how to solicit resources.

He was now quite certain that the boy had truly changed for the better.

"You are well aware that I relinquished control of the family affairs to your father more than a decade ago. Currently, the deployment and assignment of guards are handled entirely by him and his knights. In this matter, you can only seek out your father; I fear I cannot offer much assistance."

Such words were obviously a polite refusal.

Viggins held Rulance in such absolute awe that whether Romlin received any resources was entirely dependent on a single word from the old patriarch.

Left with no alternative, Romlin assumed a pitiful guise. "Ever since Mother passed away, Father has always detested me. If I were to go and beg him for resources now, he would not only berate me, but might very well give me a sound thrashing."

Having pushed the conversation to this juncture, it was time to play the emotional card. He lamented, "Grandfather, you were the one who taught me to read, taught me to ride, and taught me to hunt. Are you truly unwilling now to offer even a shred of support to a grandson about to embark on a distant journey?"

"If all else fails, consider it a loan from the family, which I shall repay bit by bit in the future!"

Was pride of any importance?

Of course it was!

But one had to read the room.

As the saying went, the crying child gets the milk, and Romlin was determined to play the part of that crying child to perfection.

As for the bitter dispute between the Black Mountain family and the Border Earl caused by his own actions, he simply chose to banish it from his mind entirely, acting as though it had nothing to do with him.

Indeed, those follies were committed by his previous incarnation; what did they have to do with the current Romlin?

Whether the old Marquis was furious or merely displeased, Romlin’s sole objective today was to be thick-skinned enough to squeeze out whatever he could get.

Fortunately, Rulance, an old man standing at the threshold of death, was deeply sentimental. Especially when Romlin mentioned the lessons in reading, riding, and hunting, a profound chord was struck within his heart.

He had to admit that he had once invested an immense amount of affection into Romlin.

Faced with the plea of this grandson upon whom he had once pinned endless hope, his heart softened once more.

"Very well, very well, I relent."

Rulance spoke with a helpless sigh, then turned his gaze toward the elderly butler waiting in attendance.

"Most, go and inform Viggins that he is to grant Romlin one hundred gold coins in my name. As for the remaining provisions, guards, and horses, he must make an appropriate gesture as a father. No matter what, Romlin is still his own flesh and blood, a child of our Black Mountain family."

"Understood, my Lord!" The old butler bowed respectfully and withdrew from the chamber to deliver the decree.

Romlin's face split into a wide grin. "Thank you for your generosity, Grandfather! I shall certainly manage Mountainwood Town with the utmost care!"

"Then see to it that you give your absolute best."

Rulance smiled, slowly reclining back into his pillows. "When time permits, remember to visit the castle more often."

"I shall."

Recognizing this as a polite dismissal, Romlin rose, gently pulled the corner of the blanket up over the old man's chest, and quietly took his leave.

"The boy has indeed grown up."

Watching Romlin's departing silhouette, Rulance let out a quiet sigh. "An absolute pity it comes so late, and a pity still that he has mastered neither Battle Qi nor magic."

As the pioneer who had carved out the Marquisate, Rulance naturally desired his family to remain strong through its own merits, rather than relying on outsiders.

Regrettably, while he drew breath, his former loyal followers would not dare harbor treacherous thoughts, and even if they did, they would not act upon them.

But once he passed away, nothing was certain.

Allowing Breton to inherit and binding the Hyde family to the Black Mountain family remained the optimal path forward.

As for Romlin, whether he was granted the title of Baron or given a hundred gold coins now, it amounted to very little in Rulance's eyes.

Should Romlin prosper, he would be glad to witness it; should Romlin achieve nothing at all, he would harbor no resentment.

On the other side of the estate, Romlin stepped out of the old Marquis's residence. Looking at the tranquil garden before him, a sudden sense of refreshment washed over him.

One hundred gold coins, combined with his own remaining balance, brought his total wealth to one hundred and twenty-eight gold coins. This was more than enough to procure a wealth of resources, ensuring he would at least not starve upon arriving in the remote Mountainwood Town.

"Since Grandfather has given the command, even if my cheap excuse for a father is unwilling, he will have to provide a modicum of support, right?"

Romlin pondered for a moment and abandoned his plans to visit the market.

Firstly, twilight was fast approaching; secondly, he wished to see exactly what Viggins would bestow upon him.

If the initial supplies proved sufficient, there would be no need for him to venture out for additional purchases.

...

A short while later, within the confines of a luxurious drawing room, Viggins’s furious interrogation caused the crystal chandelier overhead to tremble uneasily.

"What? I am to grant that fellow resource support?"

"Has Father completely lost his senses? This Romlin has brought catastrophic losses upon the family! It is a mercy we have not expelled him from our ranks, and now I am expected to support him?"

The burly man took a massive gulp of ale, roaring in unbridled rage, "Impossible! I refuse to waste another grain of wheat or a single soldier upon him!"

"But Count, the Marquis explicitly stated that Master Romlin is, after all, of the Black Mountain bloodline. Perhaps your Lordship might offer just a token of support?"

The old butler, Most, stood by the side in an exceedingly awkward position. Caught between the explicit command of the Marquis and the notoriously volatile temper of the Count, he dared not speak out of turn.

"Let us simply proceed as Father has decreed."

At that moment, the beautiful young woman seated upon the sofa spoke up.

Dianne Hyde, though past the age of forty, remained exquisitely alluring. Her long, cascading golden curls rested casually against the cushions, accentuating her enticing posture as she leaned elegantly to one side.

"Father is correct. No matter where Romlin goes, he remains the eldest legitimate grandson of our Black Mountain bloodline. Should any misfortune possess him before he even sets foot in Mountainwood Town, the resulting rumors would bode ill for both the Black Mountain and Hyde families."

"He was the cause of your niece's death!"

Viggins cast a displeased glance toward his wife. "And yet you speak in his favor."

Horwath stood to the side, dabbing the sweat from his brow. He had been waiting for the Lord and Lady to part ways before informing Viggins of Romlin's remarks, particularly since they concerned the late former Countess.

Now it seems we cannot wait any longer.

Hallworth pondered for a moment, then bowed and cautiously said, “Master, when I was at young Lord Ronin’s place earlier, he also wished me to convey something to you.”

“What is it?”

Wiggins asked coldly. Why hadn’t he noticed before that his son was so talkative?

“He said, asking you, on behalf of his mother Fatima Sari, to grant him some support.”

Some words Hallworth naturally omitted; it truly wouldn’t be appropriate to speak them aloud.

But even this single sentence caused Wiggins to pause, his mind involuntarily conjuring an image of breathtaking beauty—his first true love, the moonlight of his heart.

“Hah, he knows only to invoke his mother!”

Diana, as if entirely unaffected by mention of her husband’s former wife, smiled warmly: “Indeed, it is said that you once vowed to do everything you could to care for Ronin.”

“That also depends on what kind of man Ronin is!”

Wiggins took another deep drink of wine and said to Hallworth: “Follow what Father said, grant Ronin some support.”

He paused, then added: “Do not give too much. Prepare something first, and I will confirm it later.”

“Yes, Master.” Hallworth replied with a smile.

(End of Chapter)