Chapter 111

Chapter 111
## Chapter 111: Never Mind The Heir, I’ll Focus On Healing

“Did you drop out of the clear blue?”

“Yes.”

“Right into the path of an enraged werewolf?”

“Precisely.”

“Unbelievable…”

Lion shifted his gaze back and forth between Petrick and Rikschel, wearing a deeply aggrieved expression.

Before he could offer a defense, Petrick raised a hand to silence him.

Seizing the moment, Rikschel stepped forward to recount Lion’s reckless stunt in meticulous and undeniable detail.

Amidst the steady stream of reprimands, Lion could only interject occasional murmurs of justification.

“Elvia cast Shock Absorption Magic on me, I swear!”

His excuses did little to soothe the tense atmosphere, but every action had a purpose.

In truth, Lion was merely coated in a shimmering layer of Moonlight Pill residue; he was completely unharmed.

Wasn’t that what mattered most?

‘I had no other choice if I wanted to reach them even a second faster!’

Had it not been a desperate crisis from an aerial vantage point?

The protective barrier was on the verge of shattering, and Rikson’s blade had already snapped uselessly.

Therefore, he had opted for the most efficient and humane solution available in that dire moment…

“It was sheer madness.”

“Reckless in the extreme. What were you thinking?”

They countered by explaining that Shock Absorption Magic, true to its name, merely dampened a fraction of the impact rather than nullifying it completely.

‘Sigh.’

Overwhelmed by their rapid-fire rebukes, Lion surrendered his defense and slumped quietly onto the sofa.

Following a severe lecture and a brief pause in the dialogue…

“My, my. Don’t be too harsh on him. Just think of how exhausted the Young Master must be.”

Elvia spoke gently as she topped off an empty teacup.

Had reinforcement finally arrived?

Indeed, Elvia was bound to understand!

“Even with the cushion of magic, your system must have suffered a terrible jolt. To drop from such a dizzying height…”

Wait.

“And to think, I nearly struck that young knight down myself. Forgive me, I might have completely derailed the Young Master’s grand design…”

Ah.

She certainly wasn’t on his side.

Furthermore, she might have ruined the plan entirely…

Had things progressed a fraction of a second further, Barg’s head would have parted from his shoulders.

Lion shivered involuntarily, rubbing his forearm.

“Still, it all worked out for the best in the end. The young lords have gained a valuable lesson.”

Elvia tossed a sympathetic glance toward the dejected Lion and draped a wool blanket over his slumped shoulders.

Rikschel, however, clearly felt his elder brother’s interrogation remained unfinished.

“Valuable? It was an incident that must never be repeated. Older Brother’s martial capabilities are…”

He caught himself before uttering the word “non-existent.”

‘Can I really claim he lacks them?’

He had taken to the skies mere moments after mastering the manipulation of spirits.

Given that he had never displayed the skill prior, he must have conceived and executed it on the spot.

Not to mention the restorative concoction brewed from evening primroses, and the fine powder still dusting his garments.

He had deployed these assets precisely as the situation demanded.

Just as his brother claimed, he likely orchestrated the aerial descent to disperse the healing powder over a wider area with absolute uniformity.

‘Ultimately, my brother saved Barg’s life by his own hand.’

Perhaps he had known it instinctively all along.

Lion had simply executed what was within his power.

Yet the mere sight of it had left Rikschel rattled with unease.

Perhaps he had allowed emotion to cloud his judgment.

‘…Still.’

Rikschel’s composed logic warred fiercely with his turbulent emotions.

“My word. I’m only making a fuss over nothing. I shall fetch more tea.”

Sensing the tension, Elvia offered the three of them a warm, understanding smile and quietly stepped away.

Then… tap, tap.

She lightly tapped Lion’s back with her forefinger before leaving.

This was his chance.

‘Indeed.’

Lion offered a faint chuckle as he observed Rikschel’s conflicted expression.

He had been momentarily thrown off guard, as this was his first time facing such a confrontation.

Yet, viewed from his younger brother’s perspective, wasn’t anxiety entirely natural?

His heart must have plunged.

‘Quite so. Regardless of the outcome.’

While it was true that a successful end justified the means, that wasn’t the core issue here.

What mattered was that there were people who cared enough to worry.

Acknowledging the heavy hearts of those who acted out of concern…

“I apologize. I only considered my own perspective.”

Yes, a true gentleman must know how to offer an apology.

An apology meant for the hearts that cherished him.

“And thank you. Thanks to your efforts, I was able to secure Barg’s survival.”

Gratitude, too, should be voiced clearly whenever the opportunity arose.

“I… I…”

Rikschel was rendered speechless by the sincerity behind his brother’s solemn expression.

An apology wasn’t what he had desired.

He had simply harbored resentment that his elder brother failed to grasp the depth of his anxiety.

Consequently, he had behaved like a petulant child, nursing an emotional grudge without proper communication.

“Ahem.”

Observing the exchange, Petrick raised a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat loudly.

“Grandfather was terribly anxious as well, I presume?”

“That line won’t work on me.”

It was, in fact, working remarkably well.

That was the root of the issue.

‘Why is his reckless streak a mirror image of my own?’

He seemed momentarily to have forgotten the source of that stubborn bloodline.

Petrick exhaled slowly, collecting his thoughts.

As the two men took a cautious step back, Lion quickly offered his final justification.

“The circumstances were critical, leaving me with only one viable course of action. I promise you, I will never resort to this again.”

“…Knowing it is half the battle. But should you ever pull such a stunt again, the consequences will be severe.”

“Understood. I shall take every precaution to avoid your punishments.”

With a lighthearted remark to ease the mood, Lion quickly drained his teacup.

“Ugh.”

The brew was so intensely bitter it scorched his tongue.

> Witch’s Bitter Taste
> * Did you know? Witches reward good children with cookies and bad children with bitter tea.
> * Even so, it does wonders for your health, so squeeze your eyes shut and finish every drop.
>
>

“…”

A glance around revealed that Lion’s cup alone was pitch-black.

This wasn’t mere tea; it was essentially a concentrated medicinal decoction.

‘Cannot be helped.’

A touch of mischief paired with an overabundance of anxiety.

…It wasn’t an entirely unpleasant burden.

Following the system’s advice, Lion clamped his eyes shut and gulped down the remaining liquid.

Surprisingly, the sharp bitterness left behind a lingering, pleasant sweetness.

—

After enduring a thorough round of affectionate reprimands from his relatives, Lion hummed a cheerful melody as he stepped out into the village streets.

Tucked securely against his chest was a batch of malt, thoroughly cured in the warmth of the sun and the autumn breeze.

‘Barg will require several days of bedrest to fully recover.’

Both Rikschel and Rikson would be occupied for the foreseeable future clearing the ruined timberlands and tending to the wounded warrior.

As for his grandfather, well, his schedule was best left unmentioned.

“Which leaves me with a remarkably free afternoon.”

Over a month had passed since his arrival in the settlement, leaving Lion with a backlog of personal errands.

‘I have my own small projects to attend to. Hmmm.’

First, he needed to grind the thoroughly dried malt, and a trip to the orphanage was in order to inquire about the local priest.

‘Information regarding the seal is paramount.’

For reasons unknown, the priest named Rikschel whom he had encountered previously seemed well-disposed toward him, suggesting he might possess vital clues.

Naturally, the most pressing task on his agenda was quite simple.

He needed to apprise Mudu of the household’s latest developments.

‘He must be burning with curiosity.’

Knowing Mudu’s stubborn disposition, he would undoubtedly put on an air of utter indifference.

In reality, his curiosity would be gnawing at him so fiercely he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on his labor.

Lion altered his course directly toward the forge.

Upon arrival…

“Ah! You’ve finally arrived!”

The blacksmith’s apprentice spotted Lion first and scurried toward the back of the workshop to summon Mudu.

“Older Brother! The Young Master is here!”

Pat-pat-pat!

Before the apprentice’s announcement fully faded, the sound of rapid, heavy footsteps echoed from the interior.

It was the unmistakable pace of Mudu running to greet him.

“You stubborn rascal! What took you so long?”

“Haha. A variety of things transpired.”

“A variety of things?”

“It would take quite some time to recount.”

“Fair enough. We have time.”

Mudu grabbed Lion by the arm and guided him toward the rear quarters of the forge.

“Did any complications arise with the townsfolk?”

“Let us sit down first.”

Lion settled onto a low wooden stool beside Mudu and began chronicling the events within the dwarf settlement.

When he described running into Baldodum at the local tavern:

“That fellow, dwarf or not, holding his liquor so poorly!”

His tone carried the rough edge of familial concern; and when he mentioned notifying his parents that he had taken in two children named Gaji and Ipari, his expression betrayed a flicker of deep longing.

“They must have been overjoyed. I ought to visit them myself one of these days.”

“And…”

Mudu fell silent, a bitter expression shadowing his features as Lion touched upon the village’s crisis.

“So, that was the predicament.”

“Yet it has been resolved.”

“What? How did those obstinate dwarves manage…?”

Lion let out a soft laugh and pulled a collection of tools from his travel pouch.

“Thanks to the implements you crafted, Mudu.”

“…”

Mudu tilted his head in momentary confusion, before the realization caused his eyes and nose to flush bright red.

He understood.

“They mentioned that Mudu, a smith who forged only blades, had turned his hand to tools for ordinary folk, which unexpectedly inspired them all. Everyone missed you dearly.”

“Sniffle. Sniffle!”

Mudu blew his nose loudly into a tattered rag stained with iron filings and burst into laughter.

Lion smiled warmly, finding his raw, honest reaction deeply refreshing.

“At any rate, you need fret no longer over the village. It shall recover its prosperity shortly.”

With those words, Lion rose to his feet.

“Must you leave already?”

“I have a stop to make at the mill.”

“The mill? Come to think of it…”

Mudu finally turned his attention to the woven basket Lion had been carrying.

Within it lay…

sprouted barley?

“Did you pick up brewing techniques while staying in the Baidantis Territory? For a young master, you dabble in curious trades.”

Mudu nudged Lion playfully in the thigh with his elbow.

“It is merely a component for ale. I happen to possess a modest appreciation for spirits.”

“Ha? Who are you trying to fool?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You are a grown man now, there is no need for coyness!”

“…”

This marked the second major misunderstanding of the day.

Lion merely smiled, choosing not to labor over a denial.

Misconceptions of this nature were hardly worth correcting.

“Regardless, I must take my leave.”

“Right, right. A crucial endeavor, no doubt.”

Mudu chuckled, escorting Lion out to the front entrance of the forge.

Just as he was being seen off, Lion paused, clicking his tongue as if a sudden thought had struck him.

“A crate is scheduled for delivery to your workshop shortly.”

“A crate? For me?”

“Indeed.”

“Pardon?”

Observing Mudu’s bewildered expression, Lion replied with an air of nonchalance.

“Snow Mountain Iron Ingots, courtesy of the Baidantis lineage. The Marquis of Baidantis was gracious enough to provide them.”

…He had mentally categorized it as a bribe, but framing it as a gift seemed far more appropriate.

“I see… W-W-WHAT?!”

“Farewell for now.”

Mudu stood frozen, staring after the departing figure of Lion with his jaw hanging slack.

Snow Mountain Iron originating from the Baidantis House!

It served as one of the primary reasons the dwarf village remained anchored within the Baidantis domain.

An elite material of such density that no one outside the Baidantis bloodline could even hope to shape it.

Its durability was rumored to withstand the crushing aura of a true Sword Master itself…!

‘H-He is bestowing this upon me?’

Mudu gnawed fiercely on his beard, desperately suppressing the triumphant laughter threatening to break free.

“My thanks! From this day forward, every commission you bring me shall be crafted from this very metal!”

Lion cast a quick glance back at Mudu and offered a knowing smirk.

That outcome hadn’t been part of his initial design.

He had simply intended to spare a few materials for Mudu, suspecting the smith might be feeling isolated.

“See that you do!”

There was little reason to reject such enthusiasm.

Lion beamed brightly and continued on his way.