Reincarnated as the Descendant of a Fallen Noble

Chapter 16:  Damn it, can’t they trust a word I say.

The impoverished Daphne Viscounty.

That the house had ended up in such a miserable state was, in no small part, my responsibility as the Grand Duke Hardin Daphne.

Therefore, if one weighed merits and faults, the faults were far heavier... so I shouldn’t be rewarded.

That was Malion’s opinion, and to some extent, it was a reasonable one.

In truth, the bastard I had possessed apparently wasn’t what anyone would call a decent Grand Duke.

‘The guy who got beaten to a pulp at the Academy—what more needs to be said?’

He must have been the sort of incompetent scum who beat the territory’s residents and then sulked in a corner, lamenting his wretched lot in life.

But still—still, damn it.

Hardin clenched his fist tightly.

‘How the hell is that my fault!’

Was I Hardin? Was I really Hardin?

I was the one who beat that bastard Donfel to a pulp and recovered the money from the Vinter Merchant Guild.

Not the rotten Hardin Daphne, but your ancestor Varlach Daphne.

Your ancestor busted his bones working himself to death, and you’re telling me it’s so hard to give me a measly 100,000 gold? Is it really that hard to part with it?

Hardin’s face flushed red as his body twisted in frustration.

‘...Haa, but I can’t exactly grab them by the neck and thrash them either.’

If this had been the old me, I would’ve already grabbed Malion by the collar and shaken him senseless.

But what could I do? Given the circumstances, the situation, every word that bastard said was 100% correct.

‘God Faeron, why must you test me like this?’

Hardin shed silent tears in his heart.

Just then, Malion spoke up again.

“Anyway, for those reasons... I don’t believe there is any particular need to give you 100,000 gold, Brother.”

“Hmmm, the Third Young Master does have a point.”

“What he says is true.”

It was at that moment when the atmosphere began to tilt toward Malion’s side.

‘No choice, then—I’ll have to use that method.’

Just as Hardin’s fist trembled and he prepared to take extraordinary measures(?).

“I object.”

Flash!

Commander Mulgybson, who had remained silent, suddenly raised his arm high and declared loudly.

At this, Cobalt asked,

“What is it, Mulgybson?”

“While the Third Young Master’s argument does make sense, I... still believe that the Grand Duke’s merits outweigh his faults.”

“His merits outweigh them?”

When Cobalt asked back with a hint of doubt, Mulgybson continued in a firm tone.

“Yes. It wasn’t just anyone—he defeated Grand Duke Donfel himself. Everyone here knows that, among his peers, there is no one who can match Donfel’s skills.”

“That is true...”

“To defeat such an opponent is not merely about money—it is something that has brought honor to this house. Furthermore, the matter of the Vinter Merchant Guild should also be evaluated. Not only did he retrieve the funds, but he also ensured that no bad precedent was left behind. Shouldn’t that be recognized as well?”

Veins rose on Mulgybson’s forehead as he clenched his fist, his voice growing stronger.

“...Hmmm.”

Cobalt Viscount fell into thought, a serious expression on his face.

‘Well done, very well done.’

Hardin’s lips twitched as he watched.

Mulgybson spoke again.

“To be perfectly frank, I believe that even if the Grand Duke were to take all 300,000 gold instead of 100,000, I would have no complaint.”

Then...

Clap, clap, clap!

Hardin applauded them with a satisfied smile.

“You speak well. Everyone, you heard what Sir Mulgybson just said, didn’t you? This money—I’m telling you, I deserve it.”

“......”

Malion’s expression twisted slightly.

Damn it, it hadn’t been any use.

“Everyone... you all remember how much we struggled just to catch that one bastard from the Vinter Merchant Guild, don’t you? The Grand Duke accomplished that all by himself. So how can anyone say it makes sense to begrudge him a reward of 100,000 gold?”

Just as an awkward look deepened on Malion’s face—

One more tactless fool jumped out.

“Indeed! Isn’t that so, gentlemen?”

Gadolph clapped his hands and cheered.

And in matters like this, it was always about momentum and atmosphere.

“Well, I suppose that’s true.”

“He certainly did achieve something great.”

Pressed by the flurry of praise from Gadolph and Mulgybson, the retainers ended up nodding along without realizing.

“......”

As Malion’s eyebrows twitched—

Commander Mulgybson suddenly shouted again.

“No, rather—why not give him the entire 300,000 gold! I believe that would be—mmph! Mmmmph!”

“M-Mulgybson! Enough! That’s enough!”

“L-Lord! What are you doing!”

Cobalt Viscount clamped his hand over Mulgybson’s mouth as the man flailed about.

‘No matter what, giving it all away is out of the question.’

At the very least, the house needed enough money left to keep functioning!

Cobalt had only one choice he could make.

He turned his head sharply toward Hardin and called out.

“Hardin! I shall give you 100,000 gold! Will that suffice as a proper reward?”

At that, Hardin let out a big huff through his nose and replied.

“Yes, yes, you’ve made the right decision. I’ll gratefully put it to good use.”

Damn, getting money out of them was disgustingly hard.

But despite his grumbling thoughts, a smile crept over Hardin’s lips.

---

A little later, inside the Lord’s chamber.

On a table set against the wall, tea and light refreshments had been laid out.

“Hahaha...!”

Seated around it, Cobalt Viscount, Malion, and Commander Mulgybson were each sipping their tea.

“The Grand Duke really did accomplish something great, didn’t he?”

“Yes... indeed.”

Cobalt and Mulgybson wore broad smiles on their faces.

“Father, now that we have funds, I believe we can immediately proceed with purchasing the relief provisions.”

“Ah, yes. That’s good to hear.”

Scratch, scratch.

Malion was busily writing something on parchment with an expressionless face.

Since Hardin had brought back money, he was immediately revising the plans he had drafted.

“Ahh, truly impressive, isn’t it, Lord?”

“That’s right! Commendable, truly commendable.”

As the two men continued chattering—

Malion interrupted.

“Father, about the matter of repairing the warehouse—I have something to discuss...”

“...Y-yes. What is it?”

Swish! Swish!

Cobalt kept turning his head back and forth between Commander Mulgybson and Malion without pause.

Because the two of them were saying such different things, it felt as though... well, his head was spinning in circles.

How much time had passed like that?

Bang!

The door to the room swung open.

“Ahhh, that’s refreshing.”

Hardin walked in with damp hair, drying it with a towel as he trudged into the room in his light clothing.

Then he naturally took a seat in an empty chair and took a sip of the herbal tea set before him.

“Mmm, this is quite good.”

While Hardin enjoyed a brief moment of leisure, Cobalt Viscount glanced around cautiously and asked.

“Hardin. So, what was it you wanted to talk about?”

The reason the four of them had gathered was because of what Hardin had said just earlier.

 Father, I’m going to wash up for a bit, so please spare me some time afterward. That... together with Malion and the Commander as well.

 Why not say it here?

 It’s something I need to speak about in secret.

Just what was he planning to say?

Perhaps because Hardin had just brought back 300,000 gold, a strange sense of anticipation lingered on Cobalt and Mulgybson’s faces.

Hardin set down his teacup and spoke.

“I’ve got good news and bad news. Which do you want to hear first?”

“Tell me the good news first.”

“There’s only one piece of bad news.”

“Hmm?”

Was... that supposed to be the good news?

The Lord tilted his head in confusion.

“...Then, what’s the bad news?”

Hardin spoke lightly, as if it were nothing of consequence.

“This whole business—it was the Calpion bastards pulling the strings.”

“What did you say?”

“What do you mean by that?”

Everyone seated at the table furrowed their brows, and Hardin reached into his coat to place a single sheet of paper onto the table.

“That Vinter bastard was carrying this.”

“This is...”

“It’s a contract. It states that Calpion was going to employ Vinter as an administrator... and the agreement was signed just a day before he vanished.”

“What?”

Cobalt Viscount and Mulgybson let out groans of disbelief, while Malion pressed his finger firmly against the bridge of his nose, his expression souring.

‘This is...’

‘Surely not.’

At this point, no one here would fail to understand, unless they were a fool.

That Vinter had made some secret arrangement with Calpion.

Then, Hardin smiled faintly and said.

“As you can see, from Vinter disappearing to Donfel showing up—every bit of it was orchestrated by those Calpion bastards.”

“But why would they do such a thing...”

“It’s because of the territory.”

“The territory?”

“Yes. Remember how that Donfel bastard persistently demanded our land when he came? You remember that, don’t you?”

“Well, that...”

Cobalt Viscount paused to recall the memory and gave a slow nod.

“And apparently, they even told Vinter this—Daphne is a house bound to collapse anyway, so he should side with Calpion...”

“What does that mean?”

“That they intend to take our domain by any means necessary.”

Hardin’s face grew serious as he spoke in a grave tone.

“For example... by starting a Territorial War.”

“A Territorial War?”

“Yes. Nine times out of ten, that’s what they’ll do.”

“You’re saying Calpion will soon declare a Territorial War on us. Is that it?”

“That’s right.”

“......”

Grave expressions settled on the faces of Cobalt and Mulgybson.

“Mulgybson, what do you think?”

“It’s all so sudden that I can’t gather my thoughts, but...”

At that moment, Malion adjusted his glasses and asked.

“So. Are you suggesting we prepare for a Territorial War, Brother?”

“Exactly.”

Malion let out a long sigh as he replied.

“Brother, it’s an entertaining theory... but you’re making quite a leap.”

“A leap? In what way?”

“If Calpion truly intended to wage war, news of it would already have reached my ears. I can assure you, Calpion has shown no military movement whatsoever.”

“They could have just been holding back and hiding their intentions all this time.”

When Hardin shrugged his shoulders, Malion let out another long sigh and continued.

“Let’s say, for argument’s sake, that you’re right. Then... what exactly does Calpion gain from this?”

“Gain?”

“A Territorial War costs a great deal. It would also bring pressure from the surrounding territories. Anyone can see that, for already-wealthy Calpion, attacking us would bring more loss than benefit.”

“Even so... they’d still take our land, wouldn’t they?”

At Hardin’s words, Malion gave a faint, bitter smile and replied.

“Yes, a land with no specialty goods, no natural resources, and farmland smaller than any other territory. If it were up to me, I certainly wouldn’t bother waging a Territorial War against our house.”

“You’re speaking way too harshly about our land, you know.”

“I’m simply stating the facts. Or perhaps you’d care to explain it yourself, Brother—why would Calpion ‘bother’ starting a Territorial War to seize this land?”

Mmmm...

Hardin scratched his head.

‘Damn, he really does argue well.’

Truthfully, Hardin knew perfectly well that his conclusion was a leap.

And in many ways, Malion’s words made more sense.

But still, Hardin was certain of it.

From Donfel’s attitude to the scheme with the Vinter Merchant Guild—

He had been through too many things to not see that all of these incidents pointed to one single goal.

‘A Territorial War—it’s inevitable.’

And the reason...

‘These bastards know something we don’t.’

There could be a hidden mineral vein buried here, or perhaps some valuable dungeon or undiscovered specialty resource.

Besides, their military strength was weak, and the land bordered the sea, so even if it were attacked, it wouldn’t provoke much alarm from the surrounding domains.

Which meant...

‘It’s the perfect situation for a Territorial War.’

Hardin clicked his tongue shortly and spoke.

“Even so, shouldn’t we prepare anyway? Just in case.”

“What sort of preparations do you mean specifically?”

“Conscripting soldiers, buying weapons, holding drills... that sort of thing?”

“This is precisely the season when the sowing begins in the reclaimed fields. If you issue a draft, the planting will be delayed.”

“...So you’re saying, because of farming, we shouldn’t prepare for war at all?”

“Yes. Frankly, your demands seem excessive.”

“......”

This wasn’t working either.

At that moment, Cobalt Viscount spoke up.

“Hardin, I understand your concerns.”

“Ah, really? Then you’ll do as I suggest?”

Cobalt shook his head firmly.

“There will be no conscription. Instead, we will purchase the necessary arms and equipment and watch Calpion even more closely. That way... we can be somewhat prepared without ruining the planting.”

“Father is right.”

Malion immediately agreed, and Commander Mulgybson nodded along.

“What do you say? Does that ease your mind at least a little, Hardin?”

“......”

Cobalt Viscount’s serious question.

“Yes, well... that should be fine. Ha ha!”

And so, Hardin agreed, as if there were no helping it.

Of course...

‘Like hell, as if that’s going to be enough.’

Not for a moment did he actually agree.