Ch#23
‘Thinking about that time still pisses me off.’
There had been only one path Laslo could take back then.
Demonstrating an overwhelming skill gap that even the Imperial Guard members couldn’t deny. And for those who wished to learn from it, offering instruction without personal bias.
Beyond that, taking the lead in every battlefield where the Imperial Guard was needed and showing ‘no mercy’ had been particularly effective, but in any case, he didn’t dislike knights with a drive to improve.
“Wanting to get stronger and committing to extra training for it are both very commendable... but why must it be at my house?”
The three exchanged glances before one finally spoke up with difficulty.
“Well... because of the higher-ups on our side, the palace training grounds are a bit...”
“Ah, o-of course, they’d think it’s commendable for us to train with the Imperial Guard Captain. But our colleagues might see it differently...”
*Spoils of war*
Their excuse was so plausible that Laslo accepted it without much suspicion.
*Duchess*
“That could be.”
“Then—”
“Weekdays are tough, but how about next Saturday at 3 p.m. if weekends work?”
“Next Saturday at 3? We’ll be there! No matter what!”
Truly written by Lemon Frog
At Laslo’s approval, the three men’s eyes sparkled with joy.
Interpreting their enthusiasm purely as the ambition of young knights eager to improve, Laslo nodded appreciatively.
“Then head back carefully.”
“Thank you, Sir Cressus!”
“Thank you!”
Leaving behind boisterous thanks, they giggled and celebrated noisily all the way down the corridor outside Laslo’s office.
- 2 -
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It’d be great if everyone focused that much on self-improvement…
[How dare you only amount to this much? Do you think the four great houses will consider you marriage material? You must be perfect. Beyond anyone’s reach!]
Sword-wielders dabbling amateurishly in politics was so common that he even felt grateful for such straightforward types.
The pity was, they didn’t seem destined for great success. One could tell just by looking at the trio’s appearances.
Edel sighed as she watched her father’s terrifying scowl while he berated her.
No matter how much praise Edel received from her governess or acclaim in society, the Canyon Count always found flaws to criticize and rage over.
Now that they’d finally come to their senses, their bodies were already broken, postures poor... Even three hours of instruction—how much could they retain?
‘Why did I have to sacrifice myself to soothe Father’s complexes?’
They might end up just drilling basics, but that could be better for them. Real combat training would leave no unbruised spot on their bodies.
Back then, she’d begged to work harder out of fear of his bellowing, but it had always been a question and grievance.
Donating to orphanages or free clinics, supporting struggling artists—then he wouldn’t have been called nouveau riche. But the Canyon Count hated spending on such things.
If he wanted to become a dignified, honorable noble, shouldn’t he have walked that path first?
[Remember this. It must be one of the ‘four great houses’ without fail. Keep your wits and don’t glance at worthless scum.]
You call wasting money on frivolities foolish, but in the end, what did Father gain pouring money elsewhere?
The moment she heard those words, Edel realized she was dreaming.
Her dark vision gradually brightened, and looking around, it was the Canyon Count’s mansion as she remembered.
In the midst of those thoughts, the scene before her shifted again.
The family was gathered around a table laden with a lavish feast.
‘How old was I when I first heard that? From eight, when lessons began? Or even younger...’
But even seeing her family after so long brought Edel no joy. There were no sweet memories to long for in dreams.
She recalled her father’s obsession with the four great houses, ongoing since so young she couldn’t pinpoint it.
[Either marry into a good house, or what use is a daughter? Useless freeloaders who eat without working—get out of this house right now!]
The Pispera Empire had many nobles, but the four great houses—Lancaster Duke’s, Berington Duke’s, Tollein Marquis’s, and Winblair Marquis’s—held power even the imperial family couldn’t touch lightly.
The Canyon Count ruined her appetite with such talk at every meal.
And he sought to wed her to one of those four great houses as his path to success.
No matter how delicious or rare the food, only her brothers could eat their fill at the table. Edel and Lin had to ration portions to avoid becoming ‘freeloaders.’
‘Despite the family’s wealth, its influence was negligible.’
*Others envied our slim figures, unaware.*
The Canyon Count’s origins weren’t exactly dignified.
His great-grandfather, a gambling addict, had won foreign territory in a bet. Decades of meager taxes from that land turned into a massive sapphire mine discovery.
The suddenly wealthy grandfather offered the then-struggling emperor loads of sapphires and gold chests, and in return, received his countship as a breath of relief.
The tale spread through society without embellishment, branding the Canyon Counts as a house rich in money but little else.
A chuckle escaped her.
Living within, she hadn’t noticed, but looking back after family abandonment, they deserved the nouveau riche label.
A house too stingy even to properly feed and clothe family—perhaps worse than mere upstarts.
Her father didn’t stop there.
·Couldn’t he be content as a wealthy count?
Smack!
Unable to wield great influence despite his title and stuck with upstart scorn, he was always furious. Escaping that gaze meant marrying his daughter into a great house—a deep-seated complex.
- 3 -
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