Zwalter kept his gaze firmly on the window, seemingly determined not to meet his son's eyes, maintaining a grave and solemn expression.
With a faint cough, he spoke again.
"The weather is fine today."
"Yes."
"Truly, it's such fine weather."
"Yes, it's quite nice."
Ghislain, now completely over the tension of the previous moments, answered indifferently.
An awkward silence settled in the room.
As Zwalter continued to stare out the window, he began muttering to himself.
"One of the northern fortresses has been in disrepair for quite some time. They say it would cost about five thousand gold to fix it… never mind, I shouldn't have brought it up…"
"…"
When Ghislain didn't respond, Zwalter closed his eyes and sighed deeply.
"Oh, what a pity it is. Where can I possibly find five thousand gold in these dire straits? Soon we'll have to head out to fend off the barbarians. Truly, all this is due to my own lack of virtue… I never thought the estate's coffers would be so empty."
Ghislain looked at his father in disbelief.
Unlike Albert and Randolph, who outright asked for funds, this was clearly Zwalter's roundabout way of asking for money.
It reminded him of something his mother used to say when he was young.
—Your father worries so much that he ends up brooding alone, especially when it comes to money. Something about his pride as a man makes him go in circles rather than asking directly. If I pretend not to understand, he sulks and broods alone. It's actually pretty funny.
'Wow, I thought she was exaggerating… but it's real?'
As Ghislain remained silent in disbelief, Zwalter bit his lip and grumbled to himself.
'How can he just sit there and not offer anything after all this? He really takes after his mother with this kind of obliviousness.'
Yet, despite his roundabout ways, the Countess had always managed to subtly slip funds into the estate when needed.
Zwalter sighed at the memory and continued his monologue.
"If only someone could make a small donation for the estate… for something like, oh, development funds."
"…"
Apparently, a fondness for "development funds" ran in the family.
Ghislain took a moment to consider his options.
His father would likely continue his sighing monologue until he received an offer of funds.
'Well, it wouldn't hurt to invest in the northern fortress repairs. I was planning to expand it anyway.'
Since Zwalter would be managing the northern front for the foreseeable future, some support was necessary. A small repair fund seemed reasonable.
"When I sell the rune stones, I'll send five thousand gold to cover the repairs."
As Ghislain spoke candidly, Zwalter twitched slightly but shook his head.
"No, you said you had plans, didn't you? No need to delay your 'important business for the estate' for this."
"It's alright; I'd like to support it, so it's no problem."
"I said it's fine. The fortress has held up well enough till now…"
"It doesn't look fine to me."
"Ahem. I said it's fine."
"I'll just give it to you, alright?"
"...Is that so?"
Zwalter nodded, turning his gaze back out the window.
Though he was pleased, he maintained his stoic demeanor, as openly showing joy might harm his dignity.
"Well, if you insist on helping, I won't stop you. Thanks to you, I'll be able to refurbish the northern fortress at last. Much appreciated. Ho ho ho."
"Then, if you'll excuse me, I have matters to attend to."
"Oh, of course. I won't hold up a busy man. Go about your work; I won't keep you."
Zwalter felt immensely satisfied, quietly proud of the son he had raised.
'Next time, I'll just ask directly. He's surprisingly generous! Really, he's just like his mother in some ways.'
As Ghislain left his father, he exhaled deeply.
"Whew… this is even more exhausting."
Dealing with people was more draining than fighting in the Forest of Demonic Beasts.
He felt as if his very energy was being drained just standing there.
"I'd better get moving right away."
Staying at the estate would only mean endless demands, so he resolved to move quickly.
***
Unlike the others, the estate's head butler, Homerne, was taking a different approach.
'Ha, do they think I haven't been watching the young lord for years? He's not one to hand out money so easily.'
Although Ghislain claimed he would spend the money on the estate, no one knew exactly how he intended to spend it.
Homerne, seasoned by the years and hardships of the estate, didn't trust vague promises. He intended to secure funds directly.
'Really, how many things can he need to spend money on?'
Even if he were to build an army, the rune stones were worth far more than the expense of recruiting and training soldiers for a mid-sized estate.
So far, only the wages of mercenaries and workers were being spent, with no substantial recruitment effort underway.
If Ghislain squandered it all on personal indulgences, it would be a terrible waste.
Besides, he wasn't the only one who found Ghislain hard to trust.
"I need to secure as much as possible before Albert and Randolph make their move."
Those two would surely allocate funds to whatever they deemed essential.
They weren't necessarily wrong; their priorities were certainly important.
But, unlike those two who focused on their own departments, Homerne had to look after the estate as a whole. And the estate had countless needs.
Stockpiling food, repairing the walls, recruiting soldiers, paying overdue wages, setting up relief for the citizens, repaying loans to the merchant guilds, securing warhorses and equipment, repairing fortresses, maintaining public facilities, and so on…
The list of necessary expenditures for the estate was endless.
With no way to address everything at once, he needed to tackle the most urgent issues in order.
For that, it was best for Homerne, who had a broad view of the estate, to handle the funds himself.
'If the main target is too tough, go after their close aides first. That's basic strategy.'
Instead of asking Ghislain directly, Homerne decided to approach Belinda.
Having served as Ghislain's tutor, she had looked after him since childhood.
Even if Ghislain was stubborn, he would likely hesitate if Belinda were the one asking.
Homerne inwardly praised himself for his political savvy.
"Oh, Belinda, how are you feeling?"
"Oh! Baron, what brings you here?"
Belinda was surprised to see him; after Ghislain's rebellious phase, Homerne had practically ignored her as well.
"Hmmm, I heard you were unwell and thought I'd check in on you."
"Oh, I'm much better now, thank you."
"Good, good. You're needed to look after the young lord, so take care of yourself."
Though Homerne had practically shunned her, Belinda bore him no ill will. She understood the reasoning.
When Ghislain was at his worst, no one in the estate liked him, and many blamed her for his behavior.
After a polite exchange, Homerne subtly placed a small item in Belinda's hand.
"Ahem, it's nothing much, but please accept this."
"Hmm? What is this…? Oh my!"
What Homerne had handed her was a rose-shaped brooch made of gold and gemstones.
Upon closer inspection, she noticed the engraved logo and exclaimed.
"Is this a 'Charnel' piece?"
"Oh, I see you have a good eye. Yes, it's from Charnel."
Belinda eyed the brooch suspiciously.
Charnel was a renowned artisan across the continent, and items from him were rare and expensive, especially in the impoverished Perdium.
"Is this real?"
"Of course! Do you think I'd carry a fake around?"
"Then… why are you giving this to me?"
She looked at him with a mix of confusion and intrigue.
With a meaningful smile, Homerne said, "I have a small favor to ask…"
The mention of a favor made Belinda hesitate, but she nodded politely.
"The young lord came into a lot of money recently, didn't he? He claims he'll spend it on the estate, but I think it would be better to hand it over to me."
Homerne waved his hands as if to downplay the request.
"Not that I don't trust the young lord! It's just that funds should be spent efficiently. I handle most of the estate's affairs, after all. What do you think?"
It was essentially a bribe.
Belinda considered his words for a long time before finally shaking her head.
With a sorrowful look, she handed the brooch back to Homerne.
"I'm sorry, but you'll have to take this back. I can't ask him for that. His money is his to spend as he sees fit."
"Hmm, is there really no way to persuade you? It's all for the estate, you know. I just need a little help."
"I'm sorry, I can't do that."
Despite repeated attempts, Belinda simply repeated her refusal.
Homerne, deciding he would have to approach Elena instead, reached out to take the brooch back.
But he found it nearly impossible to pry from her hand.
Perplexed, he tugged harder.
'What… why won't it come loose?'
Belinda, with a disappointed look, murmured, "I suppose you should take it back, then…"
Though she held it out to him, he couldn't get it to budge.
'Is this some kind of sorcery?'
Upon closer inspection, he noticed a faint blue glow around the brooch.
Belinda was channeling mana to grip it tightly.
'What the… she's even sweating with the effort!'
Considering chiding her, he looked around and noticed other patients and maids nearby.
There was no way he'd make a scene over a brooch in front of witnesses. It would ruin his reputation.
'Now I see why the young lord is the way he is!'
Homerne withdrew and prepared to leave, thinking he'd try to reclaim the brooch at a later time.
From behind him, Belinda asked innocently.
"Aren't you taking it with you, Head Butler?"
Homerne shot her a bitter look.
"You and the young lord are two of a kind!"
With that, he left, stomping out of the room.
After he left, Belinda happily admired the brooch, then tucked it away.
Outside, Homerne, still fuming, racked his brain for a new approach.
"It would be improper to go directly to the young lady now…"
He didn't have much wealth to offer as gifts, but the brooch had been his best option, now lost to Belinda.
But soon he brightened, a new idea forming.
"Ah, of course! Sir Fergus!"
Fergus, like Belinda, had been with Ghislain since childhood.
Older and wiser, he might be able to sway Ghislain with a request.
With renewed determination, Homerne gathered a dry mandrake root, one of the estate's few remaining treasures, and went to Fergus's quarters.
"Sir Fergus! Are you in?"
Inside, Fergus sat on his bed, reading.
"Ah, Head butler! What brings you here?"
Surprised but pleased, Fergus welcomed him.
"Oh, it's nothing, really. I brought you a little something for your health…"
Just as he was about to reveal the precious mandrake root, his eyes fell on a pile of mandrake roots and other rare medicinal herbs stacked by Fergus's bed.
Stunned, Homerne stared at the pile, pointing with trembling fingers.
"What… what's all that?"
Fergus beamed with pride.
"Ah, the young lord gifted these to me before he went to the Forest of Demonic Beasts! Would you like a few?"
Apparently, one of the first things Ghislain did after acquiring wealth was stockpile health supplements for Fergus.
Homerne glanced at the dried, feeble mandrake root in his hand and then at the robust pile by Fergus's bedside.
"No, no, I'm… I'm fine, thank you."
And with that, he retreated, mandrake root still in hand, looking smaller and more defeated than ever.
[T/L: Please support me and read extra chapters here: https://ko-fi.com/revengerscans ]