INMDR 12

Chapter 12

“I’m going to develop the ore vein.”

My father’s bombshell statement left me stunned.

‘This is all because of Marquis Hadion.’

That guy must have planted a futile idea in my father’s mind.

What should I do?

For several days, I pleaded with my father, arguing that developing the ore vein might be a bit too much, but his resolve was unshakable.

“When your brother returns, I will tell him. Just wait.”

Father… if my brother hears this, he could inherit the title on the spot.

What should I do in this situation?

The answer came from my ancestor.

[For now, just train. Haven’t you rested long enough?]

“Yes, sir.”

He was right.

I had taken a full week off even after the war, so I had rested quite a bit.

What? Suddenly why so diligent?

‘I have to be diligent.’

After my father announced the ore vein development, I decided to compromise.

Promoting Vilheim to Baron would be too unfilial, so I might as well leave the territory myself.

Then what? Even if the territory ends up in debt?

‘It’s okay—I’ll be independent.’

That should work, right?

Once I decided to become independent, I needed to grow stronger.

Even in modern times, there’s a saying that “outside the blanket is dangerous,” but that’s just a figure of speech. In this world, it was genuinely dangerous.

Of course, it would be nice if Vilheim could sway Father before I leave…

‘…But I still need to prepare.’

I channeled the independence my father had instilled in me into rigorous training.

Ah, and there was one thing that made me happy here.

What was it?

Gol, Golgol!

Our friend Golgol had returned from the brink of death!

“Golgol, is it really you?”

Gol!

“The Golgol who saved my life—is it really you?!”

Golgol!

Golgol seemed to act out exactly how he had jumped in to save me.

It really was Golgol!

“You’re here, you really came back!”

Golgol!

Some might think it’s no big deal. After all, skeletons are disposable. Why make a fuss?

But Golgol wasn’t just any skeleton.

He was a comrade who shared life and death with me and had saved me from a ruthless killer—a lifesaver!

“Golgol, if you want anything, just say it. I’ll make it happen.”

Golgol!?

“What? Really? You mean it, dude? Tell me what you want, okay?!”

Would I really fail to grant anything to my comrade Golgol?

Of course, if it were unreasonable, I’d have buried him in my heart forever—but luckily, our loyal friend Golgol’s request was simple.

Gol, Golgol!

“What’s over there?”

Gol!

“Bring it here.”

Clatter, clatter!

Excitedly, Golgol brought over a large sword.

It was my father’s training greatsword—a massive weapon used occasionally for practice.

About 1.5 meters long, with a width roughly a handspan for an adult male.

“You want that? You want to use the greatsword?”

Golgol!

“All right. Start with that for training. I’ll ask Father to get you a proper one later.”

Gol!

I was relieved that he liked it, but at the same time, I was worried.

Could Golgol really wield such a huge sword?

In manga or novels, characters swing swords as tall as themselves effortlessly—but this was reality.

Unless your lineage had awakened abilities like ours…

“Oh, it works?”

I widened my eyes watching Golgol.

It looked a bit tough, but Golgol was swinging the sword!

Of course, there were issues.

‘Magic… it’s consuming quite a bit.’

But what could I do?

He was so happy.

And Golgol’s joy didn’t end there.

[Hmm, I’ll keep an eye on his swordsmanship. If he uses the greatsword, there may be some points to guide him.]

Golgol?!

[He saved my descendant’s life, so no need to thank me.]

Gol! Golgol!

Seeing Golgol happy made me happy too.

Under my ancestor’s guidance, Golgol began his sword training.

I took a spot in the practice hall to train in necromancy.

‘Was it like this before?’

The goal was to get used to the “Bone Armor” I had used in the territory war.

I had instinctively used it during the chaos, so some parts were unclear, but I had a decent grasp.

…How long had passed?

“The post-war negotiations are completely over.”

By the time Hadion’s family had been paid full compensation, he returned.

My brother, Vilheim.

For a moment, a cinematic from a certain game flashed through my mind.

― He is inheriting the throne.

Ah, poor Father.

As the cinematic villain did, Vilheim appeared with a commanding stride.

Rough skin, clothes stained with blood from fierce battles.

From his appearance alone, he looked less like a Baron’s son and more like a deranged killer. Yet, he immediately greeted Father.

“Father, I’ve returned.”

“You’re back. You’ve worked hard. Was everything settled?”

“Yes, but I heard there was something concerning the family.”

“Hmm, yes. There were issues. Come in.”

Father led the unfilial son to the dining room.

Mother asked routine questions, like if he had been well and if his skin had been injured, and Vilheim replied dryly.

I was the only one who realized that the Baron’s position might change.

Anyway…

“There was a territory war.”

“It was Hadion, right?”

“Yes, you know. Marquis Hadion challenged our territory, citing ridiculous reasons. And the result… well, you should know.”

“Yes, I heard we won. And that Cthun’s performance was incredible?”

“Yes.”

Father spoke proudly of my deeds.

How bravely I had cut down enemy soldiers, and how I fought a wandering knight named Zik.

When he finished, I got chills.

‘…He’s smiling?’

Yes. Vilheim was smiling.

Vilheim, smiling?

“You did well, little brother. Truly my sibling. You protected the family admirably in my absence.”

“…I just did what I had to do.”

“Many bear duties, but few perform them properly.”

Vilheim complimented me, then turned to Father.

“I hear the post-war negotiations went well. You secured a substantial compensation?”

“Yes, 10,000 gold. Even after paying conscripts and the fallen, there was still plenty left.”

“Good. But why did Marquis Hadion challenge our territory?”

“Hmm… where to start…”

Father hesitated, but Vilheim, as if he already knew, spoke calmly.

“Because of the magic ore vein?”

“…You knew?”

“Yes.”

This guy… a prepared usurper?

But no.

“I have a friend who is a wizard. He once mentioned that our territory might have a magic ore vein.”

“I’ve never heard of this friend.”

“I hadn’t told anyone. He’s not the type to seek the spotlight.”

“Hmm, I see. Wizards are quirky, after all. But… your friend knew?”

The atmosphere grew tense.

Even a lion on the verge of exile remains a lion.

Father’s eyes briefly shone sharply.

“Is this friend trustworthy?”

“Yes, he wouldn’t leak such information.”

“Well, if you say so… Still, I’d like to meet this friend sometime. Can you arrange it?”

“Yes, it’s not difficult. The friend wanted to meet you too.”

“To meet me? For what reason?”

“Better you hear it directly.”

“Hmm… fine. We’ll discuss that later. Are you tired?”

“I’m fine.”

“Good. Then I’ll explain now.”

Father adjusted his posture and stroked his beard.

I realized the time had come.

Today, the Baron of Palaon would change—from Father to his son.

“Neighboring territories are paying attention to Hadion’s challenge. They wonder why he coveted such a useless land.”

“I understand.”

“So, I’ve decided.”

“I’m listening.”

Father spoke with determination.

“I plan to develop the magic ore vein.”

I wondered what Vilheim’s reaction would be.

‘Hmm… If you do that, I’ll inherit the title, Father.’

…Or maybe not.

But Vilheim’s response surprised me.

“You’ve finally made up your mind.”

“…?”

“…?”

I tilted my head, and so did Father.

Mother just blinked, observing.

Father asked,

“You’ve made up your mind? You knew I was preparing?”

Preparing? So this wasn’t an impromptu decision?

Trying to follow the conversation, I looked between them, and Vilheim calmly replied.

“Yes, I knew you were accumulating the territory’s funds. I didn’t know why, but after hearing from a friend about the magic ore vein, I guessed.”

Father laughed heartily.

“Ha! Then this is straightforward!”

No, too straightforward.

Did he notice how I felt?

Father looked at me and said,

“Hmm, Cthun doesn’t know well, so I’ll explain. Here’s how it happened…”

According to Father, preparing to develop the magic ore vein was not a recent decision.

To be precise…

‘From the moment Grandfather mentioned the vein.’

Long ago, when Vilheim was a child.

Before I was even born.

Father had participated in the kingdom’s war for that reason.

“I needed money. But with our territory’s situation, it was impossible to earn such a large sum.”

Father achieved a great feat in the war.

Though he was only a regional hero, somehow he gained massive recognition among nationwide powers and received enormous compensation from the king.

I was astonished.

‘From the king himself?’

It didn’t matter who exactly.

Later,

“It was a substantial sum, and many coveted it. So, I spread rumors that all the money had been spent repaying loans incurred in Father’s generation.”

Shocked again.

‘This is… Palaon?’

Even for the territory’s sake, disguising Father as a helpless debtor?!

Anyway, Father deposited the money in the royal bank and patiently gathered additional funds.

Waiting for the right moment to develop the magic ore vein.

Of course,

“Not all preparations are complete yet. But since things have come this far, it’s better to act now. That’s why I decided to develop the vein.”

I see… that was the reason.

But I had a question.

“Father, may I ask how much the budget is?”

“Yes, I’ll tell you. Sir Balt, the documents…”

“Yes.”

Sir Balt, aware of this, handed over the documents without reaction.

Father didn’t explain verbally, showing the paperwork instead.

“All the amounts listed here are the budget for the ore vein development.”

I read the numbers carefully.

Zeroes—one, two, three…

[What… did your father even take a king’s head? The royal family rarely gives this much money.]

Don’t ask me.

Someone had said that Father had a “business illness” and mentioned succession—what a fool!

“Father, I trusted you.”

Vilheim, craving the title?

Warning: This position is too much for you—look elsewhere!