Reincarnated as the Descendant of a Fallen Noble

Chapter 84: It’s Finally Over. (2)

A deep night in Blueton.

Most of the buildings had lost their lights, and the whole city had settled into quiet.

Only one place remained lit—the tavern in the city center, the ‘Blue Bottle.’

“Pour it! Drink it!”

“Wahahahaha! I’m telling you, the number of Frost Ghouls I caught that day was...!”

“Ohohohoho! I saw it, I saw it. I saw you in action, sir knight!”

Not only had the lights not gone out, but the place was packed like a busy market in broad daylight, with Princess Medeia’s escort knights and Daphne’s Maw Mercenaries all mingled together, their faces flushed red from drinking.

Amidst the chaos, Malion...

“Haha, I’m Malion, the Third Young Master of Daphne. You must be... Sir Durald, correct?”

“Hm? How do you know my name?”

“Back when we were blocking the monster wave, you always charged at the front lines—it left quite an impression on me.”

He darted through the crowd of knights, speaking to each one and getting his face known.

He never stopped talking, not even for a moment.

Sitting in a corner and watching the scene, Hardin lifted the corner of his lips in a slight smile and took a sip of the beer in his hand.

‘He’s doing just fine without being told.’

After all, those knights over there were all Princess Medeia’s personal guards.

They were all quite capable and frequently moved in and out of the imperial palace.

Whether those guys became someone important in the future or proved useful right now, making acquaintances with them at a time like this would almost certainly be beneficial.

So then why was I holed up in a corner like this?

‘Well... back in the day, Wendy noona handled all this.’

 Varlach, do you really have to just sit there drinking at a victory party? Go over and say hello or something.

 Do I really have to do that with people whose names I don’t even know? It’s uncomfortable.

 Of course you do! For the family’s sake!

The memory of getting smacked on the back by Wendy noona resurfaced vividly for Hardin.

Even back then, he never managed to exchange pleasantries till the end.

How should I put it? Saying things I didn’t mean just made me break out in hives.

As Hardin snorted and took another sip of his beer—

“Puhahahahahahaha!”

A shrieking laugh rang out beside him, making his body flinch.

Turning his head toward the sound, he spotted Beryl and Mikkelsen.

“Back then... you have no idea how damn hard it was to dig those traps! Isn’t that right, Brother Beryl?”

“Right, right! I seriously thought my arm was going to fall off. Huuuuu!”

“Brother! Why is a man crying!”

“It was hard, you bastard!”

Mikkelsen constantly boasting of his heroic deeds, and Beryl tearing up for some reason—what a combination.

Just watching them made me shake my head.

‘Those two are going to burst my eardrums.’

Some of the surrounding Maw mercenaries were visibly covering their ears every time the two shouted.

Anyway, while the tavern interior was in full chaos thanks to those two—

“You all seem to be having a good time.”

Through the gap between the two chugging beer and making a ruckus, a middle-aged man with one eye covered by an eyepatch—Instructor Benjamin—poked his face in.

With his face all tensed up and a vein bulging on his forehead, he looked as if he were about to scold someone.

“Puhuhup!”

“Wh-what brings you here, Instructor?”

Mikkelsen spat out a bit of beer, while Beryl awkwardly smiled as he replied.

Benjamin fiddled with the beer mug in his hand, then slowly raised it and said,

“Let’s start with a toast.”

“Ah... yes!”

As the two clinked glasses awkwardly, Benjamin downed the full beer in one go.

Clack!

Then he slammed the mug down on the table with gusto and said with a serious face,

“I’d like to take this opportunity to say I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“Out of nowhere?”

“To be honest, when I heard you were from the Daphne Viscounty, I assumed you were just some nobodies with no real skill. It’s rude to say, but... you looked kind of like mountain bandits. But you’re actually quite capable.”

As he spoke, Benjamin slyly rolled his eyes sideways.

It was praise, albeit delivered with some embarrassment in his own way.

Of course...

‘They did look like mountain bandits.’

‘Oh, sharp observation.’

That only deepened the awkward expressions on Beryl and Mikkelsen’s faces.

“Ahaha, thank you.”

“Well, it’s all thanks to Her Highness, isn’t it.”

Just then, Vice-Captain Benjamin reached out a hand toward Beryl and said,

“Allow me to formally introduce myself. I’m Benjamin Dalton, serving as Vice-Captain under Princess Medeia.”

“Oh, yes, I’m Beryl.”

As Beryl shook his hand, Benjamin asked again.

“What’s your title?”

“Title?”

“Yes, it seems like the knights are following your lead. Are you a squad leader? Or perhaps a knight commander?”

“Uh, well, the thing is…”

A troubled look appeared on Beryl’s face.

‘I’m not even a knight, though?’

Former bandit boss? Or mercenary commander?

Thinking of how to introduce himself made his vision spin.

“Go on, tell me. This is a good opportunity—we should form a bond between fellow knights.”

“Uh, about that…”

Setting aside the bond, they weren’t even “fellow knights” in the first place…

Sweat began to trickle down Beryl’s back, and his eyes started trembling even more when—

Thunk!

“Now, now, Vice-Captain Benjamin! Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Hm?”

Hardin suddenly cut in, throwing an arm around Beryl’s shoulder with a pleasant smile.

“Yes, well… thanks to you.”

Benjamin replied in a reluctant tone, prompting Hardin to pull Beryl closer with the arm he had draped over his shoulder and continue speaking.

“This guy, despite how he looks, is actually pretty timid. He’s not great with words. Isn’t that right, Beryl?”

“Uh...? Me?”

“Anyway, this guy is the squad leader of our family’s ‘Maw Squad.’”

Maw Squad? Squad leader? What’s he suddenly saying...?

Beryl and Mikkelsen blinked in confusion, but Vice-Captain Benjamin stroked his chin and responded.

“Maw Squad, huh? That’s quite a unique name.”

“Well, they eat a lot, and they’ve got a pretty rough look.”

“Ah, yes. That makes sense.”

Benjamin glanced back and forth between the empty plates stacked on the table and Beryl’s face, nodding as if he understood.

“Well, they’re competent. Our house has benefited a fair bit thanks to these guys.”

“I see. I’ll make sure to remember that.”

He’s complimenting us?

What’s gotten into him?

Beryl and Mikkelsen gave him questioning looks, but Hardin only backed off with a calm smile.

“Well then, enjoy the rest of your evening. From knight to knight, you know?”

“Where are you going?”

“Going to clear my head a bit. Sober up.”

“...Alright.”

As Benjamin gave a small nod, Hardin snatched the mug from Beryl’s hand, downed the beer, and walked out.

Mikkelsen tilted his head as he watched Hardin’s retreating back.

‘...From knight to knight, huh.’

The corner of Beryl’s mouth lifted ever so slightly—barely visible.

---

A short while later, on a gentle hill less than ten minutes from the tavern.

Swoooosh—

The grass swayed in the wind as Hardin collapsed backward, lying down with a blank look on his face as he stared up at the sky.

The moon was hard to see, hidden behind thick clouds.

“It’s tough... really tough.”

Hardin let out a deep sigh and swayed a piece of foxtail grass he held in the air.

He sniffled for no reason and smacked his lips.

Helping the princess, securing investments based on that, then pushing forward with harbor construction—the whole plan laid out.

He thought he could pull it off, and even though there were some annoying bumps along the way, he succeeded without a hitch.

And yet, something bitter welled up in his mouth.

He shut his eyes tightly for a moment.

 You did good, Captain Varlach.

 Varlach, you're back already?

 ...I heard you caused trouble again?

He heard phantom voices in his head—his eldest brother, Vice-Captain Kelthas, Wendy noona, and his mother?

And then...

“Can everyone please be quiet.”

Hardin exhaled through his nose and flung the foxtail grass to the side.

Then he sat up and grabbed his head.

‘What am I supposed to do next...’

His head throbbed oddly, deep wrinkles forming between his brows.

Was it the alcohol?

His lips felt dry, and there was a sharp sting somewhere in his chest.

He kept sighing and holding his head when—

“What are you doing?”

“...Hm?”

He turned his head toward the voice beside him.

In that instant—

Whoooosh!

The wind blew through, making the grass sway.

Standing there was Princess Medeia, her silver hair fluttering in the breeze.

In the moonlight that peeked through the clouds, her unique silver hair shimmered, and her ruby-like red eyes stood out all the more.

Hardin tilted his head and asked,

“What brings you all the way out here?”

“There’s something I need to discuss with you.”

“...A discussion? What was it again?”

As Hardin scratched his cheek, Medeia let out a sigh and continued.

“I’m leaving Blueton tomorrow and heading straight for the imperial capital.”

“Ah, really? You’re leaving early.”

“Do you intend to come as well?”

“Me, to the capital? Why?”

“Didn’t you ask to be granted Fabione? If your people came along... it would surely be helpful.”

Hardin thought it over briefly, then waved his hand.

“Nah, it’s fine. It’d just waste time, and it’s not like we’d get more funding just by going. Please handle things as promised, Your Highness.”

“...I see.”

As Hardin answered in a disinterested tone, Medeia exhaled lightly.

After all, what they needed was simply the ‘rumor’ that Princess Medeia had invested in them.

There was no need to waste time making a trip to the distant capital.

Besides...

‘Going there might just invite trouble.’

As Hardin organized his thoughts and gave a slight nod, Medeia quietly sat down beside him.

‘What now?’

As Hardin looked at her curiously, Medeia asked,

“What is your goal?”

“My goal?”

“You said you were going to build a trading port. What are you doing all that for?”

This girl asks bold questions.

Hardin gazed into the air for a moment before answering.

“Well, probably not so different from Your Highness’s goal.”

At that, Medeia’s eyes widened.

“My goal? How would you know what that is?”

Her face filled with confusion.

Seeing that expression, the corner of Hardin’s mouth lifted.

‘Now that I see it, she really does resemble her.’

Medeia’s current expression overlapped perfectly with that of Linian, someone he had seen during his past life as Varlach.

Hardin shrugged, clearing the stray thoughts from his mind.

“Do I need to say it out loud?”

“......”

As Hardin stared at her, Medeia’s body stiffened momentarily.

His deep blue eyes felt as though they pierced through everything—profound and even deeper still.

Swoooooosh!

In the brief silence, the night wind blew between the two, making the grass rustle fiercely once more.

How long had they sat like that?

‘...So that’s what it is.’

Medeia exhaled deeply, her expression softening, and then she spoke in a low voice.

“I’ll invest.”

“Huh? Invest in what?”

“When I return to the capital, I’ll immediately submit the application for Fabione to His Majesty. I’ll promise to invest a significant portion of that funding... into the trading port you plan to build.”

“...Out of nowhere?”

As Hardin asked, Medeia gave a brief reply.

“Lack confidence?”

“Pardon?”

“What I’m offering is an investment, not charity.”

At that, Hardin changed his expression and responded with a smiling face.

“Of course I’m confident. If you invest in Daphne now, that money... will multiply several times over.”

Medeia’s expression softened slightly as well.

“A good deal.”

“Of course.”

Medeia held out her hand, and Hardin shook it lightly.

As their brief conversation came to an end—

Clink, clink.

Medeia took off a silver bracelet fastened around her left wrist.

Then, as she tugged it—

Click!

The bracelet split into two parts.

Medeia handed one of them to Hardin and said,

“Take it.”

“What is this?”

“It’s a magical tool. It was a gift from my great-aunt. With this, we’ll be able to contact each other anytime, anywhere. It’s a magical device, so the frequency of use is limited, but...”

‘That’s...’

At those words, Hardin’s eyes narrowed.

 Varlach, will you take this?

 What is it?

 It’s a magical tool that lets us keep in touch. My mother gave it to me.

He remembered it clearly—Linian used to always wear that bracelet during his time as Varlach.

She had tried to give it to him several times back then, and he had refused.

Hardin furrowed his brow and asked,

“Why are you giving this to me?”

Medeia hesitated for a moment, then answered.

“I’m your investor, am I not? I need to make sure you’re handling things properly... and that there’s no risk of losing my money.”

Hardin stared at her for a moment, then exhaled through his nose.

“...You sure do worry a lot.”

“You don’t want it?”

“No, I’ll use it well.”

Well, the circumstances were different now.

Hardin pouted slightly and then casually strapped the bracelet onto his wrist.

Medeia twitched the corner of her mouth—barely visible—and slowly stood up.

“Then I should head back. I need to get to sleep early if I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead.”

The two of them slowly walked down the hill and disappeared into the streets of Blueton.

Just then, the moon, which had been hidden behind clouds, peeked through and poured its light down on them.