A wild figure clad in furs — a barbarian.
He was the ancestor of House Walt, brimming with untamed energy, with shaggy long hair and violet eyes.
He was the third son of House Walt, who had served as ecclesiastical nobility in the Royal Capital.
However, as the First Generation could not inherit the family estate, he struck out on his own and founded a pioneer settlement in the frontier.
It was the First Generation who broke away from the ecclesiastical House Walt and carved a path through the untamed wilderness that no one else had dared touch.
At the time, there were people near the territory who were called barbarians. He took them in as well, and in doing so, laid the foundations of House Walt.
The reason for his independence, however, was—
"My first love was from a baron's family. You need a certain standing to marry into that sort of thing, right? So I thought, if I cleared some land and became a baronet, I could go claim her hand..."
In the meeting room, I — who had collapsed — somehow found myself present.
After hearing the First Generation's story, the others learned that their very origins stemmed from his first love and wore complicated expressions.
"So what you're saying is — you fell for a girl, volunteered for a pioneer corps, and just ended up founding House Walt as regional nobility? ...That explains why things were still awkward even after you got married!"
The Second Generation speaks about the First Generation and his wife.
Apparently, the couple hadn't gotten along well at first.
"When I went back to the Royal Capital, my first love had already married someone else and moved away! That'd make anyone sad!"
The First Generation lunges at the Second Generation, but neither one budges an inch, each with their own grievances.
"Don't tell me... the conditions in that family precept — they were because of that Alice?"
When the Third Generation says this, the First Generation looks a little embarrassed.
"Hehe, I figured if I couldn't marry her anyway, I'd set conditions and marry whoever could clear them. Said that at a banquet. When I told them 'This is House Walt's family precept,' everyone backed down. I never imagined they'd actually make it an official precept. And finding someone who met the criteria? That was a surprise too."
The Second Generation screams at the First Generation, who is laughing as he speaks.
(I wish he'd stop shouting — it drains my mana. And honestly, I didn't need to know that.)
"You...!! Do you have any idea how much trouble you caused me?! Every single one of them — 'It's House Walt's family precept!' My marriages kept getting delayed, and I had to clean up after you expanded the village with no planning whatsoever... Aaaaaargh!!"
When the Second Generation flew into a rage, I turned to the Seventh Generation, who was nearby.
"Um, why am I here? And — did something happen after I passed out?"
"Y-yes, well... the thing is..."
According to the Seventh Generation, it was the First Generation who had called this emergency meeting.
Apparently, upon hearing of the Lockwood family's crisis, the First Generation had insisted on helping.
The Sixth Generation addresses the First Generation.
"I'm afraid that's out of the question. Lending out Instructor Zelphy is simply not feasible. Are you suggesting we waste the funds Novem raised by selling off family possessions?"
The First Generation crosses his arms with a troubled look.
"Well, yeah, that's true. But there's someone who's the spitting image of my first love, and she's asking for help... You guys understand how that feels, right?"
But the Fifth Generation was unmoved.
"I'm afraid I can't relate. None of us had the freedom to choose love — we all married for the sake of the territory."
"What cold-hearted bastards you are! Are you even human?! Who the hell do you think is responsible for you being alive?!"
With that, starting from the Second Generation—
"My mother."
"Mom."
"My mother."
"Mama."
"My mother."
"Thanks to my mother."
(Wow... for once, they all agreed on something.)
"You... all of you!!"
The First Generation screams, but the Second Generation delivers his retort with icy calm.
"Besides, how do you think I felt being told to help your first love when I already had a mother of my own? And Novem was pretty upset too, you know."
"Huh? She was?"
The Second Generation looks at me with an uncomfortable expression.
"Well... that girl Aria shook Lyle and he passed out, remember? She looked like she was about to cry."
(Yeah, I can picture that.)
After they carried me home, they apparently confirmed the situation at the house.
My ancestors had pieced together a good deal of the circumstances by that point.
I imagined Novem in a state of panic. When she was younger, she was far less dependable than she was now.
"Also, if we're going to help — what exactly are we supposed to do?"
The moment I asked, the First Generation launched into his explanation as if he'd been waiting for precisely that question.
"The ones who stole the treasure are a band of thieves. They're holed up in abandoned mines around Darion. The plan is to sneak in and recover the stolen 'Jewel.' Will you do it?"
The First Generation glares at me as if to demand I do it, but the Second Generation and the others object.
"Impossible. Bandits? And even that Zelphy adventurer is risky. Besides, we have too little information — it's far too dangerous."
The Third Generation agrees.
"I think you should consult the knights or the soldiers of Darion. More to the point, isn't that something the lord should be handling?"
The others echo similar sentiments.
As for the Seventh Generation, my safety was his top priority.
"Sending Lyle to fight bandits is out of the question from the start. His magic use is restricted, and you want him to go with Zelphy? Even if Novem insists on tagging along, what kind of fighting force does that girl actually have?"
The enemy was a band of thieves, so there would be more than one.
How many people could we send against an unknown number of enemies? There were too many variables, and my ancestors were against it.
"But I want to help! I never even got to tell her how I felt! And now Lyle is being asked to help her — isn't that fate?!"
"No, it's just a coincidence."
The Fourth Generation says flatly, and the First Generation slumps into his seat, shoulders drooping. It was sad to watch, but being told to take on a band of thieves wasn't exactly helpful either.
Besides, the last time I'd fought anyone was my bout with Ceres.
If anyone asked whether I'd be useful, I'd have to say no.
But then the First Generation muttered quietly.
"Yeah... you're right. You're my blood, after all. Even if you became a count, you're the same on the inside, aren't you."
I felt like I heard a sharp *ping*.
"No, my bad. I was a fool for expecting anything from you. I had this faint hope that Lyle, what with the royal blood and all, might be different... But I should've known. At the end of the day, you're all my descendants. Can't expect much."
Everyone was irritated by the First Generation's transparent provocation.
"Um... e-everyone?"
"...We could do it. There's just no benefit."
The Fourth Generation speaks, and the Second Generation nods in agreement.
"Don't lump me in with him. If we got serious, we'd wipe out a band of thieves or two in no time!"
The Third Generation also speaks, quietly seething.
"You're underestimating us. I've led troops as lord and quelled bandits in my time, you know. Times have changed since your era."
The First Generation stirs the pot even further.
"It's fine, it's fine. You couldn't do it anyway, right? You all talk about having experience in wars, but basically you just stood in the back and left everything to your subordinates, didn't you? Well, you're nobility, so I suppose that's how it should be. If you'd forced your way to the front, you'd have just been a nuisance to everyone else."
Hearing that, the Fifth Generation glared at the First Generation.
"Excuse me? We've been commanding from the front lines! Besides, it's not us doing the subjugation — it's Lyle. And I never said it was impossible."
The Sixth Generation was the same.
"To be called a coward is quite unfair. However, Lyle will be the one conducting the subjugation this time. I agree it will be difficult under the current circumstances. But I never said it was impossible."
The First Generation presses on.
"I didn't mean anything by it. No need to get all tough on me. You know that saying about the weakest ones being the most aggressive? Ah, but I'm not talking about you guys."
He says he's not talking about them while grinning and surveying the room.
The Seventh Generation rises from his chair and points at the First Generation.
"We'd do it in a heartbeat if you'd actually help! Not only are you refusing to cooperate with Lyle, but you're ordering him to do it?!"
The First Generation slammed his fist on the table.
A resonant *thud* echoed through the room, and everyone fell silent.
"If you're going to help that girl Aria, then I'll help with everything I've got! I'll teach Lyle my skills and how to apply them! But only if you're actually going to help!"
Hearing that, the frustrated expressions on everyone's faces returned to normal.
I could only stare, dumbfounded.
The First Generation was wide-eyed with surprise. Then the Fourth Generation took charge of the situation.
"So the First Generation will assist Lyle. Well then, that's one problem finally resolved."
"...Huh?"
The First Generation was swept along by the situation. Meanwhile, the Third Generation turned to me with a smile.
"That worked out well, Lyle. Now you'll be able to use the skills."
"Y-yes... um... what was that just now?"
When I asked about what had just happened, the Fifth Generation explained with a weary sigh.
"Well, he was provoking us, so we used that to get a firm commitment out of him. He wouldn't go back on what he just said in front of everyone. Right, First Generation? You're not the kind of cowardly bastard who'd do something like that?"
"A-a man doesn't go back on his word!"
Hearing that, everyone rose from their chairs and returned to their respective rooms.
The Sixth Generation called out to me about planning for what came next.
"Lyle, once you're awake, get information from Aria. And while you're at it, ask the First Generation about his skills. You're going to be busy."
My ancestors returned to their rooms, laughing.
Only the First Generation and I remained.
"...U-um?"
"I've... been set up, haven't I..."
Watching the First Generation genuinely seethe with frustration, I found myself wondering what the situation was like back in reality.
"Well then, guess I'll explain the skills."
After everyone returned to their rooms, I was taken to the First Generation's room.
The room appeared to be the mansion where the First Generation had once lived. From my perspective, it felt more like a cottage.
"Right. So, basically, a person only has one skill, right? Something about applications..."
I asked the First Generation to explain his skills.
"It all originates from a single skill. When sealed in a Jewel, you can only use the basic functions of skills other than your own. Maybe someone with exceptional talent could use more, but that's about it. In your case, I'll be teaching you personally."
Apparently, as long as the skills remained sealed in a Jewel, the bearer couldn't bring out their full potential.
The Jewel, however, was a different story.
"You know what my skill is, right?"
"Full Over, wasn't it?"
The First Generation's skill, Full Over, was simple but effective precisely because of that simplicity.
"In terms of performance, it boosts your abilities by ten to twenty percent. Just think of it as becoming ten to twenty percent stronger."
"Got it."
The First Generation spoke about his skill, but he understood that alone wouldn't be enough to take on a band of thieves.
Once a lord, always a lord — he could tell this wasn't going to be enough.
And yet, he was trying to help a descendant who bore an uncanny resemblance to his first love.
"Among the applications, there's one called 'Limit Burst.' It pushes your body beyond its limits to enhance it, and, um... it lets you fight while recovering."
"Fight while recovering?"
"Yeah, I don't know the details, but apparently if you push your body beyond its limits and overexert it, it would normally break down."
When the First Generation said "normally," it sounded like he himself was anything but normal.
(Well, I guess he doesn't exactly look like an ordinary person.)
The First Generation, in his barbarian getup, glared at me.
"You were just thinking something rude, weren't you?"
"N-no, not at all!"
"Anyway, continuing the explanation — I want you to use that beyond-the-limit enhancement skill. But your body can probably handle it for about... three minutes or so?"
"Wait, that's an important detail! Don't just say 'about three minutes' so vaguely!"
There was a usage limit on the skill.
The reason was that my body wouldn't be able to withstand it.
"Listen, when you use this skill on yourself, it's an enhancement. But if you use it on an injured person, it speeds up their recovery — a remarkable ability. It boosts your healing power too!"
It really was an impressive skill.
Simple, but when you thought about it, its performance was extraordinary.
"All right, then — try using the skill."
"...Um, how do I do that?"
And so, my special training with the First Generation began.
When I came to, the ceiling of the rented house was in front of me.
I tried to sit up in bed, but my body felt sluggish.
Nearby, Novem was watching over me.
"Lyle-sama!?"
"Novem... how many days has it been since I collapsed?"
I needed every bit of time I could get.
"It'll be morning soon. I can't say it was a full day, but you were unconscious for that long. I was really worried."
"Sorry about that. Also, Aria Lockwood, was it... could you call her for me? Zelphy too. She doesn't seem like she's planning to go fight the bandits, right?"
I assumed both Lockwood and Zelphy were still in town.
Based on how Zelphy had reacted at the café, I figured she wasn't keen on the idea.
Even that headstrong young lady wouldn't challenge a band of thieves alone.
"...Lyle-sama, subjugating bandits is the lord's job. Or the vigilante force should be handling it."
Whether she understood what I was getting at or not, Novem spoke with a serious expression, trying to dissuade me.
But I had my reasons.
(It was also a chance to earn the First Generation's recognition. Besides...)
"What a good girl, Novem. She properly understands what a lord's duties are. Well then, Lyle — from here on out, this is our area of expertise."
The Third Generation said to me.
Indeed, as a lord, dealing with bandits was one of the biggest headaches.
The successive heads of the family — especially from the Third Generation onward — had been tormented by that sort of problem.
"Novem, this is my decision. I'm sorry, but I'm going to help recover the Jewel from the bandits. Can you wait at home?"
"I can't do that. If you're going to help, then I'll help too. But we don't even know the scale of the bandits' operation."
Right. We didn't know.
Their numbers, their equipment, and their actual strength.
Then we'd just have to find out.
"First, let's investigate the bandits. We've already pinpointed their hideout, and they don't seem to be all that impressive. We'll also need to find out why the lord hasn't sent troops to deal with them. There's a lot to do."
I said to Novem.
"Novem, lend me your strength... and besides, this is a 'battle' we can win."
Hearing that, Novem silently nodded.