Gawain was starting to find Viscount Andrew an interesting character.
He was more of a merchant than a noble, yet not a particularly skillful one—or so it seemed to Gawain. A shrewd merchant would never lay their terms, bargaining chips, and debts on the table so openly. A noble, on the other hand, would consider it beneath them to even mention such matters.
The best approach for Andrew right now would have been to discreetly continue assisting the Cecil family, slowly extending his influence over the knights and soldiers he sheltered, and, with his noble status, legally asserting his "claims" against the Cecil family. Ideally, he could even present these claims to the king. In the end, whether Rebecca wanted to repay the debt would hardly matter; the kingdom's laws and noble customs would enforce this transaction on his behalf.
Of course, Gawain could understand the viscount's cautiousness. After all, the Cecil family's decline was no secret, and with their lands devastated, Rebecca's ability to "repay" was an uncertain matter.
"The Cecil family will not be indebted to anyone…" Rebecca said with a hint of defensiveness. "Rest assured, we have the means to repay. Although we've lost our most prosperous lands, some forests and mountains around the periphery remain. And as long as I am the heir, the Mithril Vault will keep a loan available for us. Worst-case scenario…"
Gawain cleared his throat, interrupting Rebecca. He had seen enough of the unfolding drama and felt he now understood the situation. Standing up, he said, "Rebecca, don't be so hasty. Viscount Andrew, I suggest a longer-term perspective."
Andrew glanced at Gawain, visibly unsettled. This "alleged ancient hero" was proving quite intimidating, regardless of his true identity. The viscount composed himself and admitted, "I apologize; perhaps I was a bit… greedy."
His straightforwardness surprised Gawain, who raised an eyebrow. "Honest of you. But ambition isn't inherently shameful. What we need is clarity. A viscount's territory has been destroyed, a dragon has appeared within the kingdom's borders, and creatures from the magical tide have resurfaced. Discussing business at such a time is hardly appropriate."
Before Andrew could respond, Gawain continued, "That said, practical matters do need addressing. You're worried that assisting the Cecil family could lead to mounting debt, ultimately leaving you at a loss. Allow me to assure you that the Cecil family has the means to repay all debts. And if you play your cards right, we may even bring you substantial benefits."
Andrew held Gawain's gaze. "Please, go on…"
"I, myself…" Gawain gestured to himself. "I am your greatest investment."
Andrew froze, his expression tightening in faint confusion. "Your Grace… Let's say I do believe you are, indeed, Duke Cecil. But I must remind you that you've been gone for seven centuries. Anzu is now in its second dynasty, and much of your title, properties, and wealth have been divided, inherited, or… reclaimed by the crown. My respect for you is genuine, as is that of every Anzu citizen. But I'm also a lord, responsible for my people and land…"
Gawain shrugged. "Think beyond mere gold and acres, Viscount. Is financial capital the only investment with real value?"
Andrew's eyes narrowed. "What exactly do you mean?"
"I hold permanent pioneering rights." Gawain raised the Sword of the Pioneer. "As long as Gawain Cecil wields this sword, he holds the authority to claim any uncharted land as his own. This includes, but is not limited to, undeveloped regions within Anzu, wilderness areas beyond national borders, and the Gondor Wastelands—any territory with no existing legal disputes. As long as I can maintain a semblance of control over these territories, the Anzu crown will acknowledge them as Cecil holdings, with my rights as lord guaranteed."
Gawain watched Andrew's eyes widen with dawning realization, then deliberately slowed his pace.
"The founding king, Charles I, authorized these pioneering rights. They are also recognized by the Western Augure Tribes, the Eastern Typhon Empire, the Southern Highland Kingdom, the Elven Silver Empire, and the Northern City-States. These rights are perpetual, and as long as the authorized pioneer—that would be me—remains alive, they are in effect indefinitely."
"The decree wasn't exclusive to me," Gawain continued, "All the leaders of the Pioneering Era were granted similar rights. However, as time has passed… it seems I'm the only one still around to exercise them."
He grinned, a trace of amusement in his expression. "I bet those old fellows who signed those papers never expected I'd one day rise from the grave."
While Viscount Andrew was still too stunned to speak, Rebecca couldn't hold back her astonishment. "An—Ancestor! Is this… really true?"
Gawain rubbed his forehead, casting a sidelong glance at Hetty. "Who was responsible for her history lessons? Or has the law been repealed? Because if so, that'd be quite awkward… But I doubt the leaders of various nations would be so bored as to hold a conference centuries later just to cancel a pioneering law that no one's actively used."
Hetty blushed, explaining, "Rebecca's history… well, I was her teacher, but she hasn't been the best student. As for the law, it's absolutely still in effect. While any pioneer knights were alive, no one would dare revoke it, and afterward, it became a point of honor—symbolizing the human spirit to reclaim and rebuild civilization. No one would even consider repealing it."
Viscount Andrew added, "Not only that; historians and scholars often write about it in great detail…"
Gawain shrugged, "So my sudden return to life is both a shock and a delight for them—the law from seven hundred years ago finally has a purpose again."
Andrew studied Gawain, his gaze resting on the Pioneer's Sword. "I must admit, this is a… a perspective I never imagined. With permanent pioneering rights, you might indeed have a chance to restore the Cecil family. But forgive me; this would be a very long-term venture. Are you aware of how little habitable land is available for pioneering on the kingdom's borders?"
"I have some idea. My descendants filled me in along the way…" Gawain glanced at Hetty and Rebecca. "Anything fit for settlement has already been claimed. What remains is dense wilderness, poisonous swamps, or territories bordering the Gondor Wastelands."
"So, what's your plan?" Andrew spread his hands. "Where do you intend to rebuild your family?"
"That's precisely my concern…" Gawain replied with a smile, though his mind drifted to a map—an impossible, nearly insane map with unparalleled precision and scope. It was deeply ingrained in his memory, an aerial view of the continent, although likely outdated by years, perhaps even decades. Still, it offered him a vision of the path ahead. "For you, Viscount, the real question is what kind of returns you might gain from investing in a founding duke with permanent pioneering rights."
Andrew lowered his head, finally considering the matter earnestly.
After a long pause, he broke the silence. "If your pioneering rights receive royal endorsement, then I, as a humble viscount, would be honored to offer you all the assistance within my power."
It was the quintessentially diplomatic response of a seasoned noble—guarded yet respectful, leaving no loopholes.
Rebecca widened her eyes. "Are you saying that a permanent pioneering right, recognized by the founding kings and ancestral leaders, could be denied by the current king?"
Gawain smiled at his young descendant. "He'll certainly want to deny it. In fact, it's highly likely he won't even recognize my identity. Even if Charles I himself appeared to verify my legitimacy, His Majesty and his advisors would probably still fervently pray for me to drop dead on the spot, so they could promptly bury me back in the ancient tomb of the southern border."
"Why?" Rebecca's voice rose with indignation. "You're a founding duke! A figure revered in the halls of power! The king and nobility commemorate you every year. Don't they want you to return and help the kingdom?"
Before Gawain could answer, Amber piped up from across the table, "Because they'd lose three days of holiday!"
The half-elf girl exaggerated her expression, winking dramatically at Gawain, which earned her an annoyed glare from Hetty.
"Don't listen to her nonsense; that was a joke between us," Gawain reassured. "The real reason… Hetty and Andrew likely understand, don't you?"
Hetty sighed. "The king reveres heroes because their image and reputation help consolidate his rule. But he would never want such a hero to actually return. Once that hero comes back, those very symbols of glory and reputation are no longer his to control…"
With Andrew present, Hetty held back the more subversive thoughts lingering in her mind—especially about a king whose lineage stemmed from an illegitimate origin, casting shadows on his legitimacy.
"So, the issue we must truly address…" Gawain said, glancing down at the Pioneer's Sword hanging by his side, "is simply ensuring that my permanent pioneering rights are recognized and enforced."