After accepting Viscount Andrew's invitation to a banquet, Gawain and his party were temporarily settled into guest rooms within the castle. At Gawain's specific request, two soldiers, maid Betty, and Amber were all provided with clean, comfortable rooms.
After all, Viscount Andrew's castle was large enough to accommodate everyone.
Once the servants had left, Heidi couldn't help but voice her concerns, "Ancestor, do you think Viscount Andrew is trustworthy?"
Though they were "neighbors" with adjacent territories, Heidi was well aware of the nature of nobility. Despite their frequent claims of honor and integrity, those virtues were often the very things they lacked, especially in the remote, untamed southern regions far from the political center. Now that the Cecil family had fallen to rock bottom, aside from the sudden reappearance of their ancestor adding a glimmer of hope, Heidi didn't feel they had much leverage when dealing with other nobles.
"Trustworthy? I haven't even considered that question," Gawain's response caught Heidi off guard. "Until a few hours ago, I didn't even know what Viscount Andrew looked like."
Rebecca, standing nearby, was equally surprised. "Huh? But you talked to him for so long…"
"Because it was necessary," Gawain replied, looking at her. "We're currently in dire straits—'desperate' isn't an exaggeration. Besides needing to feed those displaced peasants, take a look in your own pockets. Do you even have money for the next meal? We have no choice but to seek support, and Viscount Andrew is simply the best available option for now. Apart from him, do you know anyone else in the southern region who could help us? As for his reliability... I don't know him, his family, or even the boundaries of his land. How would I know if he's trustworthy?"
Rebecca seemed confused. "Then why do you think he'll help?"
It wasn't Gawain who answered, but Amber, who had been snacking on grapes at the table. The half-elf rolled her eyes and said, "Because he doesn't want to lose money, of course."
"Doesn't want to lose money?"
"When Sir Philip arrived at Tanzan Town with the refugees, Viscount Andrew had already made his decision," Amber said, chewing nonchalantly. "He could have easily shut the gates and left those people to starve or move on—but don't bring up any laws of mutual aid. In these remote areas, the king's laws are worth less than a merchant's coin. Since he took in the refugees, it shows he expects compensation from the Cecil family. With that expectation, he's already entered into an unspoken agreement with us. Today's discussions were merely about expanding and clarifying the terms."
Rebecca stared at Amber in astonishment. "How… how do you know all this? Have the standards for thieves gotten this high?"
Amber flashed a toothy grin. "Is that so impressive? I might not understand your noble rules and customs, but at least I know thieves don't leave empty-handed. When it comes to personal gain, how different are you nobles from any thief?"
Rebecca was instantly enraged. She drew her staff and conjured a fireball the size of a fist. "If you don't watch your mouth, I'll throw this fireball right in your face!"
Amber, convinced that Rebecca wouldn't actually carry out her threat, continued her teasing, "Why don't you try an ice arrow, then~~"
As soon as she said it, she felt a sudden chill near her ear. An ice arrow whizzed past, close enough to graze her ear, leaving a patch of frost on the wall behind her. Heidi, standing a few feet away, had a finger raised, her expression indifferent. "There's your ice arrow."
A bead of cold sweat trickled down Amber's face. The sheer precision of the shot left her genuinely unnerved—it was terrifyingly close. She wondered what level of control over magic Heidi must have to achieve such accuracy.
Rebecca's mouth twitched slightly; Aunt Heidi's attack spells never quite hit the mark. Her aim always seemed to just graze her target…
Gawain clapped his hands to break up the scene. "Alright, everyone here is on the same side, so let's keep things civil."
As soon as the ancestor spoke, everyone complied. Heidi and Rebecca reluctantly put away their staffs, and although Amber liked to stir things up, she knew when to back down (especially after that ice arrow's intimidating proximity). She grumbled softly but kept quiet.
Just then, a knock came at the door. After receiving permission, Betty the maid entered.
"Master, Madam Heidi, Miss Rebecca," Betty greeted each one, skipping over Amber, "Sir Philip has arrived."
"Oh, I was just waiting for him," Gawain nodded, then noticed the frying pan in Betty's hand. "Wait… why are you still carrying that thing?"
Betty blinked, thought for a moment, and replied, "Well… we're not home yet. If I leave it lying around, it might get lost."
Gawain sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Fine, suit yourself."
A moment later, Philip, the knight who had led the Cecil refugees to safety, entered the room.
Gawain was a bit surprised to see how young the knight was. He appeared to be in his early twenties, with short blond hair, deep-set eyes, and a straight nose. Although not particularly handsome, his bearing as a warrior and tall stature made him stand out. Dressed in a simple tunic rather than armor, with a sword at his side, he still bore fresh bandages on his arms and neck.
He had indeed fought his way through with injuries.
"My lord, Madam Heidi," Philip greeted Rebecca and Heidi respectfully, his voice sincere. "I'm glad to see you safe and sound."
"Sir Philip, please, stand up," Rebecca said, helping him up quickly. "It's thanks to you that we could save those soldiers and civilians."
She noticed the bandages on him. "Those injuries…"
"Sustained during the breakout, but they're much better now," Philip replied quickly. "Viscount Andrew provided me with a healer and an apothecary. However…"
The young knight's face revealed a troubled expression, along with a hint of shame and regret.
"You're talking about the money you took from the castle, aren't you?" Heidi prompted. "Don't worry about it—the funds were intended for emergencies. When we entrusted it to you, we told you it was yours to use as needed."
"Actually, you needn't worry. Viscount Andrew only took a portion of the gold and silver," Philip said, visibly relieved, and then lowered his voice. "Before entering the town, I divided some of the valuables and entrusted them to a few loyal soldiers. I even buried some outside the town. I was concerned that if Viscount Andrew were too greedy, we'd need to keep some funds to sustain ourselves or allow the soldiers to fend for themselves…"
Gawain nodded approvingly, impressed by the young man's courage and resourcefulness. Not only had Philip bravely led a small force of soldiers in escorting defenseless civilians, but he had also taken practical measures to protect the family's resources and provide for his soldiers, even planning for a fallback in case of worst-case scenarios.
Gawain smiled in approval. "Well done. How many people survived?"
Philip had noticed Gawain in the room from the beginning—the older man's formidable presence was hard to miss. Now, hearing Gawain speak, he couldn't contain his curiosity. "Are you…?"
"It seems Viscount Andrew has already informed you," Heidi said with a nod. "This is the ancestor of the Cecil family, Grand Duke of Ansu, Gawain Cecil."
Before she could continue, Gawain interrupted with a slight grimace, "Alright, alright, let's skip the ancient titles. Those old names make me cringe…"
But Philip had already dropped to one knee, clearly overwhelmed. "Lord Gawain! I… I heard the rumors, but I didn't expect it to be true! You are a model for all knights—I've admired you since childhood…"
"Enough, enough, no need for that!" Gawain quickly helped him up, feeling rather uncomfortable in his borrowed identity. "Tell me, how many people survived?"
With some effort, Philip controlled his emotions, though his face grew somber. "Out of over a thousand who escaped, less than nine hundred reached Tanzan Town after attacks from monsters, illness, and other setbacks."
"The exact number?"
"Eight hundred and seventy-three—of which sixteen are regular soldiers, thirty are militiamen, and the rest are civilians."
Rebecca swayed slightly at the news.
"So, this is all that's left of the Cecil lands…" Heidi murmured, her voice laced with disbelief.
Gawain placed a hand on her shoulder, sighing softly. "You know, seven hundred years ago, when we fled from the heart of Gondor, do you know how many of us there were?"
Heidi looked at him curiously. "Back then…"
"Several tens of thousands," Gawain sighed. "So yes, today's situation is certainly a challenge."
Heidi was momentarily speechless.
At the same time, in Viscount Andrew's office, the viscount himself was busy writing a secret letter.
The letter was addressed directly to the king.
Due to the proximity of the Gondor Wastelands, Ansu had considered the southern regions as critical frontier territories since the nation's founding. Even though the south had remained peaceful for years, many ancient customs persisted. For example, every noble in the southern lands was a direct vassal of the Ansu royal
family, with the right and obligation to report directly to the king.
The letter read:
"To His Majesty the King,
"Greetings from your loyal vassal.
"As Your Majesty is aware from my previous letters, the Cecil lands have suffered a catastrophic calamity. But now, new and astonishing events have occurred. Though unprecedented and bizarre, I have personally confirmed their authenticity.
"The ancestor of the Cecil family, Gawain Cecil, Grand Duke of Ansu and foremost of the Seven Founding Generals, has recently returned to the living.
"I witnessed a radiant light descend upon the ruins of the Cecil domain, obliterating the invading creatures. A dragon even appeared (I will submit a detailed report on the dragon matter separately). I personally went to investigate and, together with Viscount Cecil, beheld the miraculous sight of a spirit returning to life…"