-Hah, how am I supposed to take this? I honestly don’t know.
-Honestly, I can hardly believe it either.
-Who would’ve known a single month of training would let her defeat the Second Young Master?
-Had she trained consistently with a sword from childhood, she might’ve become the greatest swordswoman in the Empire.
-Even so, that’s going too far. The Second Young Master is only called a genius within the territory. Outside it, he’s average.
-He’s average and still a beginner Expert?!
-There are too many geniuses in the Empire these days. Unfortunately, every comparison is relative.
-So I’m the only Aura User here!
-Me too.
-Damn, makes me want to kill myself.
Only the leadership of House Leonard and the Dawn Knight Order had observed the duel, but it did not take long for the rumor to spread. Partly because no one had tried to contain it internally, and largely because Ron had encouraged it.
Ron had made wagers with the members before the duel.
He had swept the entire pot with Adelia’s victory.
No one could possibly feel good after losing money.
But what if someone else splurged on their behalf?
And even handed them a share of the winnings?
Ron did not cling to money simply because it had entered his pocket.
When he splurged, he did it properly. Petty spending that left no impression was a worse waste than spending nothing at all.
He bought the drinks and called in women.
They had one hell of a party for once.
There were occasionally knights who did not drink or enjoy carousing, but as everyone knew, Ron was the real power within the Dawn Knight Order.
He subtly created a rigid company-dinner atmosphere in which no one was allowed to sit out. In particular, those who acted refined were easier to handle once he had gotten a little dirt on them.
On the other hand, even amid the drunken excitement, Ron alone preserved his virtue.
This era’s hygiene clearly had problems.
One wrong touch, and even an absolute powerhouse might spend the rest of his life with an incurable disease. If he contracted something that could be passed down, he would be doing his descendants wrong as well.
In any case, once alcohol entered the body and a man played around with women at his side, he inevitably became drunk on bravado and loose-lipped.
The truth was already difficult enough to believe. Once embellishments were added, exaggeration was inevitable.
As a result, rumors about Adelia spread in an instant, and people began to see her differently.
Her standing would not change overnight, but this laid the foundation for her to be recognized as a swordswoman rather than House Leonard’s ornamental flower.
A rumor picked up each person’s private opinion every time it passed through another mouth. As time went on, it became increasingly exaggerated and swelled beyond control.
The Count would not immediately name Adelia as an heir, but he would no longer exclude her from consideration.
Even so, the fundamental reason such an atmosphere could take shape was tied to the qualifications of the Count’s three sons.
The frailty of the First Young Master, heir to the count’s house, was an open secret. Being weak was not a crime, but it was a problem for an heir who would have to lead the territory.
Suppose, for example, that the lord of the territory suddenly died.
An internecine struggle would naturally follow.
A leader had to place his health above all else. That was why a president’s health was treated as top-secret information in the modern world.
The Second Young Master was healthy?
It was difficult to maintain a positive train of thought when the number of incidents the Second Young Master had caused was anything but small. He was not a debauched scoundrel, but he had ruined more than a few matters by rushing in without considering what came before or after. He was ignorant yet possessed firm convictions, which made him even more troublesome.
At least he had been known to possess talent in swordsmanship, but then he lost to the youngest Young Lady after she had trained for a month. Rather than viewing Adelia’s talent as astonishing, people could not help but find the result dubious.
Did the Third Young Master not remain?
Even the territory’s residents believed the count’s direct line consisted of two sons and one daughter. That meant the count’s house was deliberately blocking information about the Third Young Master.
How many parents would not boast far and wide if their child were more outstanding than anyone else? That alone was more than enough to infer the truth about the Third Young Master.
A capable younger sister beneath incompetent older brothers.
The dissonance created by a reality that favored men was stark.
Even so, the fact that Adelia was being discussed as a potential heir could not be considered entirely beneficial for House Leonard.
A succession dispute was a principal cause of internal turmoil. At a time like this, the lord of the count’s territory should personally step forward to suppress the rumors, but Count Leonard, of all people, was a hopeless fool for his daughter.
In another sense, it was understandable.
He was famous for doting on his daughter, yet he had known nothing about her when it mattered. He deserved to be told that he was unqualified to be her father.
Had he not been known as a doting fool, he might at least have had an excuse. As things stood, he had preserved neither his dignity nor his authority as a lord.
To make matters worse, the lord of the count’s house was not even aware that this was a problem.
Future internal strife was as obvious as fire.
Under these circumstances, the Territorial War against House Rehalt was drawing near.
***
SLURP!
Aaaah!
Ron, who had come up to the rooftop, sat in a chair he had made himself and savored the tea placed on the table.
The roof of the two-story house primarily served to collect rainwater, but on days without rain, it became a café with a fine view.
“It’s a waste, but it doesn’t feel like one.”
The words were contradictory, but they were also sincere.
Ironically, Ron did not particularly enjoy tea.
Tea, regardless of the world, was ultimately made by steeping dried leaves and flower petals. Even grass gathered from an open field tasted similar after it was dried.
That did not mean he looked down on tea masters or tea connoisseurs who delighted in the pleasures of tea.
Ron was simply ignorant of tea’s distinctive clean taste and deep fragrance.
Then why was he drinking tea first thing in the morning?
Strictly speaking, it was not tea.
The liquid in his cup was coffee.
They might have seemed similar in a broad sense, but tea was mainly made from dried leaves and flower petals, while coffee was brewed from roasted beans.
And coffee did not exist in this world. The gulf between choosing not to possess something despite being able to and being completely unable to possess it was vast.
There was a beverage with a stimulant effect similar to coffee, but it was an expensive drink made through magic and alchemy.
It was a luxury enjoyed by high-ranking nobles whose wealth overflowed in the Imperial Capital.
Ron earned twelve gold a month. He could not spend one hundred gold merely to have a drink.
Things like this revealed the cruelty of money’s value. In a world filled with people starving to death, someone else was elegantly drinking tea worth tens or hundreds of gold.
“Ahh, that’s the stuff.”
Three torn stick packets lay beside the kettle on the table.
The words ‘Maksim, Mix Coffee’ were printed on them.
-If there is one thing in the world that never changes, it is Maksim.
Apparently, this flavor remained unchanged even after reincarnation.
Ron did not enjoy the bitterness of an Americano. He preferred instant coffee, a product on par with MSG as a culmination of modern civilization.
One sip of coffee brought his past life to mind.
“During a battle, one of these and I could take down a hundred A-rank monsters just like that!”
Coffee drunk immediately before or after combat was a heavenly stimulant, relieving fatigue and refreshing the mind.
That was why Coffee Mix was an essential item that hunters had to carry into battle. The difference in how he felt when he drank it and when he did not was unmistakable.
“The three-to-three golden ratio hasn’t changed.”
Three sticks, three measures of sugar.
It sounded like a recipe for diabetes from the description alone, but hunters were far removed from diabetes. If anything, suffering from low blood sugar during combat was dangerous. The stimulating effect produced by sugar and caffeine addiction helped restore their energy.
-Coffee Mix 400 Sticks, 8 Coins
The reason he had called it a waste was its atrocious value for money. It was more expensive than the beef Dashida seasoning, so he had agonized over the purchase.
Eight Coins could have bought an essence that raised his stamina, agility, perception, and other physical abilities by at least two points each. He could also have purchased a weapon superior to the one he currently used.
After buying the Coffee Mix, he had repeated a thought to himself.
A true master was not picky about his weapon.
“Thank goodness the reward came in.”
Whether it involved Coins or gold, spending them inevitably triggered a desire for compensation.
To replenish the Coins he had used, Ron had driven Adelia hard…. Ahem.
With the Territorial War close at hand, she needed to grow stronger. It was not because of the Coffee Mix, but purely a noble sacrifice made for Adelia’s sake.
“When you think about it, I’m not doing this for myself.”
The party that benefited from the success of Building Up House Leonard was House Leonard. Since Ron served as the guide to Adelia’s success, an appropriate reward should follow.
Like the law of equivalent exchange, no reward existed without hardship. Effort was essential if she wished to protect her house and realize her true self.
Furthermore, achievements gained easily were said to disappear just as easily. If she hoped for free benefits and ended up bald one day, her life as a woman would be ruined as well.
Then again, if she remained beautiful even while bald, she would truly be the greatest beauty on the continent.
For the sake of Adelia’s hair, Ron never mentioned the Coins or the Shop.
The sight of something bred desire. If he showed them to her, she would inevitably make troublesome requests. Whether she pretended not to care or merely watched in silence, once a method became available, she would come to depend on it.
Just as a person standing wanted to sit, one sitting wanted to lie down, and one lying down wanted to sleep, seeking an easy path was a natural human instinct.
Ahem.
While savoring the coffee’s aroma and recalling his past life, Ron frowned.
“This brat gets ruder as she gets older.”
He tossed back the precious coffee, washed the cup, and cleared away the stick packets.
Destroying the evidence was essential.
He had hoped to enjoy lazing around before work, but unfortunately, an intruder had appeared.
For reference, his reporting time had been adjusted to noon. His quality of life was entirely different from when he had been required to arrive by eight in the morning.
Whenever Ron arrived at the count’s house at noon and saw his seniors and colleagues already slaving away, he felt a surge of delight.
Ron did not stand by and watch the intruder’s bullshit stunt shatter the peace of his daily life.
Not a chance!
This is a restricted area, you brat!
KRAAANG—!, AAAAAAH!
Ron activated the siege-grade defensive barrier and knocked away the mage who had approached by jumping stealthily like a rat.
CRASH, BANG, THUD!
Eshula collided with the siege-grade defensive barrier and fell before she could even reach the rooftop.
Launched away by the rebound force, Eshula tumbled across the neatly trimmed green lawn. THUMP, THUMP, THUMP! The sight of her skipping along like a stone over water was anything but ordinary.
HUMMM—!
SCREEEECH—!
She activated Counterforce, a spell designed to absorb impacts, but—
It was not perfect.
SKID—!
Using wind magic to reverse her momentum, Eshula barely managed to rise. She raged while plugging her bleeding nose with her index and middle fingers.
“You brainless brute! Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to be cut off in the middle of a Blink?! My skull almost shattered just now!”
The last time, he had tried to split her body apart with a sinister double sword strike. Now he had gone so far as to send his little sister flying whole.
“Then who told you to fly into a no-fly zone without permission?”
It was only the proper punishment for a thieving bitch who had invaded the homeowner’s space.
“That’s low, eating it all by yourself.”
“I didn’t eat anything.”
As though she could not help being a mage, Eshula casually probed Ron.
However, Ron did not fall for her cheap ploy.
Playing dumb was the correct answer at times like this.
Needlessly hinting that something existed would return as a burden. Burdens were accompanied by worry and responsibility, so he always had to remain wary of them. Leisure in one’s daily life required that much grueling, difficult effort.
SMACK!
When he did not take the bait, Eshula smacked her lips in disappointment.