"Dad, you really are something," Lynn said. "You've been loyal to the Emperor your whole life, and when trouble hits, they can't even be bothered to protect you."
"Look at you now, bedridden and unable to move, causing our entire family to fall apart."
"You should learn from your son—me. I know I'm not all that capable, so I clung to a strong leg early on. Who cares about the outcome? At least I'm alive for one more day, right?"
"Alright, enough bullshitting with you. Though I don't know if you can hear me now, I promise you,"
"Don't worry, I'll try to keep the family going."
In the bedroom, Lynn sat by the bed, rambling on.
Staring at Marquis Bartleion lying on the bed with his eyes tightly shut...who should now be called an Earl, Lynn sighed softly.
He who should have been in the prime of his life, now had white hair and a withered frame.
If it weren't for the occasional rise and fall of his chest, even Lynn might have thought he was already dead.
