"I'll go."
Unlike before, the reply came from someone without a hint of hesitation.
A moment later, Veronica checked who had spoken and screamed as if letting out a shriek.
"Tristan!"
"It's exactly as Father said. Taxes and military service—basic duties every lord must uphold. If one can't even fulfill such simple obligations, then they're unfit not only to be a Grand Duke, but even to be a baron."
Confronted with her son's resolute stance, Veronica was left speechless, her hands flailing helplessly.
After briefly gazing at his mother, whose face had gone pale, Tristan turned his eyes to the Grand Duke.
"And if no one here had stepped forward, Father would have chosen the third son as the next head of the family. Isn't that right?"
"19"
Not only Veronica, but the other wives and siblings as well were stunned by Tristan's words.
Soon, everyone's gaze turned toward the Grand Duke—but he merely nodded calmly.
"Yes. That was my intention."
"H-Husband!"
"Chaotic times are approaching. The Empire is weaker than it has ever been, and subversive elements are lurking everywhere, waiting for their chance. Even though His Majesty has revealed the Empire's hidden power, their momentum shows no sign of abating."
"In extraordinary times, extraordinary choices must be made."
Tristan took his father's words and voiced an old proverb.
It was a saying that taught that in times of crisis, one must make bold decisions—even if that means disregarding procedure or tradition.
"So Father wants a successor suited for the coming age of chaos."
"If it were a time of peace, I might have taken a more leisurely approach in judging your abilities. But chaotic times are different. A single moment's hesitation can see one swept away by the tides of the era."
No matter how great one's qualities as a wise ruler might be, they were worthless if one fell before ever putting them to use.
In an age of turmoil, the ability to read the overall trend and respond decisively was far more important than how well one governed a territory.
"The third son showed long ago that he possesses such ability. What remained was the rest of you."
"Don't tell me you meant for us to follow you onto the battlefield…"
"If you wouldn't step forward boldly even while thinking you might lose the position of successor, was there any need to test you further?"
"Fortunately, it seems it's not yet time to hastily decide on a successor."
Grand Duke Sigmund regarded Tristan with a faint smile.
The face of his eldest son—who had been living in seclusion ever since failing to recruit Felicia—looked gaunt.
Yet his eyes alone shone fiercely, as if declaring that he would never be broken.
"Let's see what you can do after all this time. Do you remember what I taught you?"
"Remember? I'll show you directly on the battlefield."
"Hm, a fine answer."
At the Grand Duke's satisfied expression, joy and despair crossed the faces of the family members.
It was, in effect, no different from declaring that the next head of the family would be chosen between Lucian and Tristan.
***
"That's strange."
After the family council ended, Lucian frowned and rubbed his chin.
He had effectively become one of the two remaining candidates, yet rather than joy, what he felt more strongly was confusion.
It wasn't dissatisfaction with his father's decision, but the reactions of his brothers.
'Joshua was half out of his mind, but that was only natural. He'd been eliminated before he even had a proper chance to prove himself. The truly strange one is Jordi.'
The Jordi Lucian knew was the sort of person who would never acknowledge anyone else as head of the family.
He should have been the one to react most violently the moment the Grand Duke made his declaration.
Yet at today's family council, Jordi had been far too calm.
He hadn't even shot a single glare as he left the chamber after the meeting ended.
'What on earth is he plotting? Did they arrange some other position for him through his mother's side of the family? Even so, he's not the type to hand over the position of next head so obediently…'
After a brief moment of thought, Lucian abandoned the line of reasoning.
There simply wasn't enough information to make a hasty judgment.
And more than anything, he already had far too many pressing matters to worry about.
'For now, I should deal with the northern issue first. Come to think of it, it's about time Raymond was formally assigned under my command…'
"Y-Young Master! Young Master!"
Lucian turned his head at the urgent shout.
It was one of Hugo's subordinates—someone who was now serving as Lucian's attendant.
"What is it?"
"It's finally finished!"
"Finished? What is?"
"…The medicine for that kid you asked about before…!"
Before the servant could even finish speaking, Lucian lunged forward and clamped a hand over his mouth.
A chill voice reached the terrified servant's ears.
"When was it finished?"
"T-Today, this morning. If you want, I can bring it to you right away—"
"No. I'll go myself. You go and fetch Hugo."
After forcing his wildly pounding heart to calm, Lucian left the lord's residence at a brisk pace.
His destination lay west of the inner fortress, near the underworld district beyond the walls.
He pushed through the maze-like alleys without hesitation, and when he finally reached his destination and knocked on the door, the peephole in the bolt slid open.
Click.
"Password."
"Why don't you just take a look at my face?"
"I said the password—what kind of bullsh—hngh!"
The thug, who had been glaring sharply through the peephole, recoiled in shock.
Lucian had been standing so close that he hadn't been able to tell at first.
Clunk—creeeak.
"Y-Young Master. I'm sorry. Please forgive me—"
"That's enough. Where's Ian?"
"Third floor! He's on the third floor!"
The moment "third floor" left his mouth, Lucian was already sprinting up the stairs.
Forgetting even to knock, he threw the door open. Inside, Ian stared at him in surprise.
But only for a moment.
With a grin, Ian shook the medicine vial in his hand and shouted.
"Ta-da! It's finished, my lord!"
At the sight of the bluish liquid, Lucian's eyes trembled violently.
He rushed forward and snatched the vial, sensing the faint waves of magical power seeping out.
It was far weaker than before, but he could tell that its essence was the same.
'This isn't even comparable to the inferior version I made. The intensity may be lower, but its purity is on the same level as the one I drank before.'
Lucian examined the Nektar he had received from Ian from every angle.
At the very least, it didn't seem like it would cause a burst of magical power the instant he swallowed it, unlike the one he had taken previously.
"How different is the effect compared to the first one you made? What happens when it's consumed?"
"I've never run a clinical test on a knight, so I can't say for sure. But I'm certain it's at a level where an ordinary person can drink it without any preparation."
"Who did you run the clinical test on, then?"
"Me."
For a moment, Lucian's gaze turned ice-cold as it settled on Ian.
After going through that ordeal last time, he'd tested it on his own body again?
"I didn't have a choice! Who else could I run clinical tests on for something like this? If the test succeeded, the effects of the drug would become widely known!"
"You're saying you needed to test it on yourself to figure out compatibility?"
"That's not entirely untrue either. In any case, I diluted it as much as possible and tested it drop by drop, so there's no problem!"
"Good grief."
Watching Ian desperately change the subject, Lucian let out a sigh.
Scholars—every last one of them.
Shaking his head, Lucian sank into thought, the Nektar still clenched in his hand.
'If possible, I'd like to run off right now and hand one out to everyone.'
But the timing was terribly awkward for that.
In just a few days, he would have to head north to punish House Count Calyx.
Since he'd be stepping into someone else's backyard with little more than the clothes on his back, he needed to build allies on the ground.
With this Nektar, that process would become far easier.
"How much has been produced so far?"
"Five vials."
"Can you make a few more within a week?"
"That's impossible. Raising the purity takes time, and a week is far too short."
Five vials.
It was more than enough—almost an excessive achievement—yet at the same time, far too few to distribute among all those under his command.
Perhaps after the northern affair was settled, but for now, it would be difficult.
Even so, taking everything into account, there was one person who deserved to drink this medicine before anyone else.
'Hugo.'
The first vassal to pledge his loyalty to Lucian, trusting only in the empty promise that he would one day be appointed a knight.
It would still take some time to fulfill that promise, but before then, Lucian could at least grant him a fitting gift.
"Pardon? The north?"
Hugo couldn't hide his bewilderment at Lucian's sudden words.
He hadn't been back from the capital for very long—yet now the north?
"What is it this time? Are you looking to recruit more talent again?"
"No. Something rather troublesome has come up."
Lucian calmly explained the situation to Hugo.
How someone had brazenly used the name of House Grimaldi, and how Lucian intended to step in personally to punish them.
He also told him that Hugo and his squad of ten would be accompanying him on this northern expedition.
"Considering the distance, the expenses, and living arrangements, it's best to travel with only a minimal escort. This time, I'll need you to put in some real effort."
"Leave it to me. And who else will be accompanying us…?"
"Raymond and Felicia will be going as well. Hans and Ian will, of course, remain in Kelheim."
"Understood. I'll inform the men right away."
Hugo bowed his head, but inwardly his mouth tasted bitter.
Among the vassals, aside from Hans, he was the most senior—yet there wasn't a single person he could truly deal with at ease.
'I hear Sir Raymond has become the young master's new vassal this time. Looks like I'll be pushed further down the pecking order again.'
Felicia, the future Sword Saint, went without saying—and even Raymond, the Black Lion, was a figure far beyond the reach of Hugo, who had once been nothing more than an underworld boss.
Hans was Lucian's closest confidant, entrusted with his most private affairs—lacking in martial strength, but a trusted right-hand man nonetheless.
Even Ian, who had joined only recently, surpassed Hugo by far in terms of talent, even if his formal standing was lower.
'They say he has the ability to mass-produce precious elixirs. If that's true, then compared to him, someone like me isn't even worth mentioning…'
He didn't know how effective those elixirs truly were, but even a low-grade one was of immeasurable value.
The fact that they could be produced independently—without relying on the imperial family—and distributed to knights was astonishing.
Considering how many knights thirsted for such elixirs, it was a truly terrifying source of power.
'I'm thinking useless thoughts again. Don't rush things. In any case, the young master promised to let me establish my own house someday.'
Swallowing his bitterness, Hugo once more steeled his loyalty in his heart.
Though he kept being pushed further down the hierarchy, Lucian had not forgotten him and continued to make use of him.
How many lords were there in this world who, upon finding more capable talent, would cast their old subordinates aside without a second thought?
'Even so, I'm a fortunate one. Despite the growing number of talented people, he still intends to keep me by his side.'
Having finished his own small consolation and regained his composure, Hugo was about to take his leave—
"Here. Take it."
Lucian suddenly stepped forward and placed a vial filled with bluish liquid into Hugo's hand.
Holding the medicine bottle he had never seen before in his life, Hugo asked hesitantly,
"What is this? A blue-glowing liquid… I've never seen anything like it."
"It's an elixir Ian succeeded in producing today."
"Drink it. You're the first."
At the word first, Hugo flinched.
Did that mean that of all people, he was being given the elixir before anyone else?
With trembling eyes, Hugo lifted the elixir Lucian had handed him.
'This is a real elixir.'
The secret of alchemy that even seasoned knights longed for yet could rarely obtain.
A treasure among treasures, of which even the lowest-grade versions could not be produced without imperial sanction.
The very fact that such a precious item had come to him first—before any other vassal—was hard to believe.
"May I… really drink it?"
"Of course. That's why I gave it to you."
Lucian answered Hugo's trembling question with a smile.
After hesitating for a moment, Hugo opened the elixir's cap and poured it into his mouth in one go.
It was just as he felt the cool sensation slide down his throat and instinctively pulled the vial away—
"Ghk…!?"
Hugo's eyes flew wide open at the surge of magical power erupting inside his body.
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