"I was an only child."
In the heavy, oppressive atmosphere, the Fifth Generation began to speak.
Inside the Jewel, everyone from the Second Generation onward was seated and listening. Only the Fourth Generation kept adjusting his glasses with quick, twitchy finger movements, clearly uncomfortable.
The Second Generation—
"No way. That's just… no way."
He was staring at the Fourth Generation with a rather strained expression on his face.
The Third Generation chimed in too.
"I was the second son, but when my older brother died, I ended up becoming the head. I already explained that, didn't I?"
Every gaze turned toward the Fourth Generation.
Unable to bear it any longer, the Fourth Generation finally opened his mouth.
"M-My wife was young, you see. When I was first introduced to her, she was still in her early teens. I was already in my thirties… We were far enough apart in age to be parent and child."
As the Fourth Generation tried to make excuses, the Sixth Generation shot back.
"And?"
The Seventh Generation followed.
"And?"
Age difference meant absolutely nothing to this group. They all turned their eyes on the Fourth Generation and began pressing him.
The Second Generation, in particular, was dead serious — his eldest son had, after all, already died.
"Wait, hold on — did you never once think about the possibility that you might die before the Fifth Generation grew up safely? You can lose your life over the smallest little skirmish, you know."
The Fourth Generation spoke in a feeble voice.
"No, I do reflect on it, but the Third Generation died in battle, and His Majesty took notice of us, you see..."
According to the Fourth Generation's explanation, the family had been favored in various ways on account of the Third Generation's merits. No one would think to openly oppose House Walt when the king still felt indebted to them.
Moreover, in the Fourth Generation's era, they had been elevated to baron status through their achievements.
It was thanks to the Third Generation risking his life to protect His Majesty and contributing to the victory that House Walt had risen to a position of paternal authority over the surrounding families.
The Seventh Generation spoke.
"The Third Generation died in battle, so it's understandable that the Fourth Generation had no siblings. But for the Fifth Generation to be an only child..."
It wasn't a matter of marriage diplomacy with neighboring families, but considering their relationships, it would have been better to have had younger brothers or sisters. If there had been a branch family to support House Walt—which had only recently risen to prominence—the Fifth Generation's position might have been somewhat better.
"That's right. Despite being called a lecher, he was actually doing it for the sake of the family."
When I said that, the Fifth Generation nodded.
"That's right. I would have been happy with just one wife, honestly. It's less trouble that way. Besides... when you have over thirty children, can you really love them all equally? I sent some sons off to harsh environments. There were daughters I sent away as hostages."
The Fourth Generation's era had been good.
The fact that His Majesty had his eye on them—that alone had protected House Walt.
It was said that when the Fourth Generation was struggling, it was His Majesty who arranged for a wife to be introduced to him.
But after His Majesty stepped down and before the Fourth Generation retired, things had apparently been dire.
"Every last one of them was untrustworthy. The surrounding nobles kept meddling with us. There were even times when bandits, posing as brigands, burned down our villages."
The Second Generation had veins bulging on his forehead.
"You must have retaliated, right? You didn't just let them walk all over you?"
Then the Sixth Generation spoke.
"In my generation, I managed to consolidate the surrounding area, and from there we went on the offensive."
The Fifth Generation's era—
However, it seems there were few reliable vassal families between the Third and Fourth Generations. Even so, the unwavering loyalty of House Foxes was... truly admirable beyond words.
The Fourth Generation's excuse was—
"No, well, you see... with that bizarre family precept of ours, I couldn't find a wife either."
Because their rank had risen carelessly, House Walt needed to take a bride from a baronial house of equal or one-rank-higher standing.
That said, after the Fourth Generation stepped down, they apparently grew distant from that viscount family as well.
"If only I'd had siblings, things might've been different."
The Fifth Generation glared at him, and the Fourth Generation fell silent.
The Third Generation spoke.
"That's impossible, isn't it? You could still have had children, right? And wasn't there the option of taking a concubine? You were a baron, weren't you? There were options like taking a second wife from the surrounding vassal families, right?"
The Fourth Generation—
"Well, my wife would have cried, so..."
"Don't screw with me, you bastard!!"
No one made any move to stop the Fifth Generation as he lunged at the Fourth Generation. If anything, everyone seemed to think he deserved to be punched.
As for me, I only knew this sort of thing in the sense of having it as background knowledge. In truth, when my own marriage was arranged, it was an absurd situation where they simply picked someone from among the vassal families because I'd reached the right age.
I wasn't in a position to worry about that either, so I had no time to think about marriage.
How could I get my parents to acknowledge me... that was all I could think about.
The Second Generation took charge of the situation.
"Leaving aside the Fifth Generation punching the Fourth Generation, so you built connections with the surrounding families through that. Marrying off your own kin to them, or sending them as adopted children or sons-in-law... as long as the bloodline was solid, the other side would be pleased too."
Having well-bred brides or sons-in-law come in must have been a welcome thing for the surrounding vassal families as well. It wasn't without its problems, but even so, House Walt, which had no allies in the vicinity, managed to establish a firm footing.
The Sixth Generation spoke.
"Every one of them had solid bloodlines. The issue was that he gathered women from families on the verge of collapse—women who were innocent victims of their own households' ruin. He investigated, reached out to them... and no amount of money was ever enough."
He seemed to have spent a considerable fortune, but it looked like the Fourth Generation's treasury had held out after all. How much had he managed to stockpile?
The out-of-breath Fifth Generation sat down in a chair. The Fourth Generation adjusted his glasses and took a seat as well. His clothes were tattered, but he didn't appear to be injured.
(So they're not actually flesh and blood after all.)
Inside the Jewel—my consciousness was the only thing I'd brought to this place.
And the ancestors were, ultimately, just memories. Though that came with the caveat that their very hearts had been recorded as well.
(Seriously, how did he even make a gem like this?)
If it were just about recording Skills, you wouldn't have needed a method like this. For me it was no problem since I could hear what the successive heads had to say, but for an ordinary person, it would drive them insane.
I'd nearly gone crazy a few times myself. When was the last time I'd experienced the embarrassment of being teased by my own family?
"'I have no love for any of you. Bear children—that is all I ask of you,' he declared."
The Fifth Generation spoke with a hint of sadness in his voice.
I'd thought he was a cold man, but apparently there had been more to him than met the eye.
And then—
"'So the eldest son becomes a delinquent, the siblings fight nonstop... my only comfort was my pets.'"
"Um, is no one going to address the fact that the Fifth Generation is completely broken?"
I recalled something that had happened back in Darion.
There had been a Monster in the shape of a rabbit.
When they were about to defeat that Monster, it was the Fifth Generation who had screamed and rushed in to stop them. As I was still mulling over his unexpected hobby, the Sixth Generation—the one who'd been called a delinquent—shot back.
"'When you've got over thirty brothers and sisters around you, of course you're going to act out! And he cared more about his pets than his own children... Do you know that, Laiel?'"
"Know what?"
"The Fifth Generation was raising a Kirin — a divine beast known as a young Kirin."
Then, the Fifth Generation spoke up.
"Hey, don't say I was *raising* them. They're my family!"
The Third Generation said.
"Maybe take care of your own family first."
I rest my chin in my hand and think back.
Kirin — horses with scales and horns. They were also called dragon-horses, but because they were different from Monsters, they were called divine beasts.
Until the birth of Mana Tools, divine beasts were objects of aspiration even for nobles. Kirin, which were even said to gallop across the sky, had legends saying that possessing one would bring prosperity to the entire clan.
There were even knights who dueled over Kirin as wagers.
And the Fifth Generation had possessed such a Kirin—
"Huh? But if it was young, shouldn't it have been around during the time I was living at the manor? I've heard divine beasts live for a long time."
Divine beasts commonly lived for a hundred, two hundred years. The Fifth Generation had been keeping—no, raising such a divine beast, and he said with a smile—
"It was injured, you see. Once I nursed it back to health, I released it back into the wild. Its companions from the herd came to fetch it... and that one, at the very end, kept looking back at me with reluctance. I kept telling it to go quickly, but it wouldn't stop worrying about me."
This time, everyone recoiled as the Fifth Generation broke down crying.
The Sixth Generation shouted.
"You have any idea how I felt?! I was counting on a father who raised divine beasts, and then he goes and tells me he just released it back into the wild! He could've donated it to the royal family! Just owning one would've been enough!"
Such a rare Kirin. It would have done so much for House Walt, I thought—
I was also taken aback by the Sixth Generation's thinking.
The Fourth Generation looked at the Fifth Generation and said.
"You're... the worst."
"You're one to talk!!"
"This is all your fault!!"
Watching the Fourth through Sixth Generations argue, I turned to the Seventh Generation beside me and spoke in a low voice.
"So, who's actually at fault here?"
"...I hate to say it, but the deceased Third Generation bears some responsibility too. Thanks to him, House Walt made a name for itself in history, but at the same time, our peerage was suddenly elevated and the family's scale ballooned. Well, if I had to say who's to blame... it's everyone."
Forcing the problems they inherited from their parents onto their children to solve.
That was what the successive Heads had practiced in earnest.
It was a sad thing to watch, but at the same time—
"That's just how it is, isn't it? No matter the era, there are always problems."
"That's right. My era had plenty of problems too. ...You may seem like you're taking it easy, but as far as House Walt is concerned, you're right in the middle of a massive crisis."
When the Seventh Generation said that to me, I tilted my head, wondering if that was really the case.
Seeing that I didn't understand, the Second Generation looked exasperated and said to me:
"Lyle, you may have only been cast out of the family, but House Walt is sitting on a ticking time bomb called Ceres... That's a major problem, isn't it?"
Hearing that, I finally understood. There are things you simply can't see when you're the one in the middle of it.
(...But isn't it fine to just leave Ceres alone? I'm leaving the country anyway.)
Was I being naive?
When I challenged the Aramsass Dungeon, I brought Aria, Novem, and Clara along.
This time, the four of us had planned a three-day, two-night expedition to see how deep we could go.
"Lyle, there's a party of adventurers following us from behind."
"Huh? Why?"
Listening carefully, I could hear footsteps approaching from behind, just as Clara had said.
"They probably think we're taking the shortest route. After all, we did conquer the forty-fifth floor in under a week. It wouldn't be strange for them to assume we possess Skills like that."
I wasn't feeling too good about this.
Having someone tail us from behind was a breach of etiquette in the first place.
If we confronted them, they'd no doubt make some excuse about how they just happened to pick the same path.
And if they stuck behind us, they could avoid combat altogether.
Inside a Dungeon, that was the kind of behavior everyone despised.
Aria opened her mouth.
"So what do we do? This time we're seeing how far the four of us can go, right? Should we tell them we don't have Skills?"
Clara shook her head.
"It's best not to get involved with adventurers who are breaking etiquette. At worst, they might even attack us."
Adventurers killing each other inside a Dungeon.
It was a story you heard all the time. There were definitely those who lay in wait for adventurers returning after defeating Monsters, then seized their earnings.
Though most of the time, those who went deep into the Dungeon—
ended up on the receiving end.
While I was preoccupied with what was behind us, Novem spoke up.
"Lyle-sama, there are footsteps from up ahead."
I immediately grabbed the mace at my waist and looked forward. Clara was illuminating the path with her light, but all I could make out were several Monster silhouettes moving in the darkness ahead.
I couldn't get a clear count, and more importantly, I couldn't tell what kind of opponents they were.
(Just because I don't have Skills, and already I'm this anxious...)
What magic should I have Novem prepare? Should I have Aria move to the front, or hold her back and let her deliver the finishing blow?
Even if I could make a snap judgment, I couldn't tell until the enemies were closer.
Once I could make out their silhouettes, I gave my orders.
"Novem, blow them back with wind. Aria, move up as soon as Novem casts her spell! Clara, hold position!"
I gave the orders, but the party's movements felt sluggish. Everyone was carrying a lot of individual gear. There was only so much Clara could haul on her own. At the same time, collecting Monster materials and Magic Stones was Clara's job.
I couldn't very well have her loaded down with everything right now.
"H-Hold on a second!"
Before I knew it, Aria had already rushed forward.
"What are you doing?!"
As I shouted that, I signaled Novem with my hand to stop her spell. I had Novem fall in to guard Clara, then moved ahead alongside Aria.
Aria brandished her spear while making excuses.
"Last time I was the one who moved up against the same kind of enemy!"
"That's because I was slow to notice! This time I had time to let Novem prepare her spell!"
The more flustered I got, the sharper my tone became—and Aria's movements faltered.
She looked like she'd been scolded and shrunk back. I didn't have time to tell her I wasn't angry, so I stepped up to face the enemies myself.
Fighting alone wasn't the problem, but trying to do it while barking orders was a completely different beast.
(How did I not realize that planning ahead and calling out orders on the fly were so wildly different...)
I'd gotten so used to having Skills that their absence was a real pain.
The Monster in front of me carried a shield and an axe that looked like they'd been cut from sheets of metal.
It was a Goblin, but it was wearing a helmet, which made it all the more annoying to deal with.
Chapter 12. The Weight of Absence
I slammed it with my newfound strength, sending the Goblin flying back down the corridor, shield and all. But I couldn't finish it off.
(This would be so much easier with the Saber! But I didn't bring it this time because it'd just be dead weight... Ugh, seriously!)
Suppressing the urge to yell, I swung my mace wildly. That's when Aria's spear, angled upward in a diagonal sweep, clashed against it.
"What are you doing?!"
"It's not my fault!"
Aria shot back, but her voice was trembling.
(I can't do this. I'm losing my composure.)
Every single clash in combat now drove home just how much I had relied on Skills... and how lost I was without them.
We managed to shake off the party following us, found a room, and took a break. We sat in awkward positions. It felt like we used to be closer, but Aria was keeping her distance.
Seeing me staring off, Clara spoke up.
In the room, dimly lit by a lantern, Novem was keeping watch. Aria sat with her eyes closed, looking exhausted.
"That fight earlier wasn't good."
"...I didn't have my head in the game. It's an excuse, but I was being naive."
"No, I didn't mean it like that. The party coordination is part of it, but it's mainly the interpersonal relationships, isn't it?"
When Clara said that, I tilted my head.
"Is there a problem? I apologized to Aria after that, and things seemed fine since."
I was about to say that everything was okay when Clara gave me a look, her gaze more weary than usual.
"You really don't see it?"
"...No, I don't."
I was about to talk back, but since I genuinely didn't understand, I decided to ask Clara instead. At that, Clara looked at Novem.
"Basically, Laiel is the leader of your party."
"Huh? It's been that way from the start."
Clara took off her glasses and began wiping away the smudges. Then she explained.
"When you say leader of a party, there are all sorts. The type who gives orders from the back. The type who charges into the front lines with a blade. The type who adapts on the fly from the middle. Laiel is the middle type. He can handle any role and is a capable leader who performs well no matter where he stands."
Seeing me flush at those words, Clara continued her explanation in an even tone.
"...Do you realize you're outperforming Aria on the front lines? Aria is exceptional. Another two years—no, even one more year of experience, and I think she'll grow tremendously. Her movement in the Dungeon has been improving too."
When Clara said "but," she put her glasses back on and fixed me with a serious expression.
"Having Laiel and Novem nearby is making her feel inferior. It's serious. She tries not to make mistakes but still makes them, and then Laiel or Novem step in to cover for her. 'Maybe I'm not needed?' That's a natural way to feel."
"No, but that's—"
"If Laiel weren't at the center of it, this party would have fallen apart already. The women aren't getting along."
I shook my head at that.
"That's not true. We don't fight or anything at the manor."
Clara seemed to take that as confirmation. Then she began telling me about the parties she'd seen before.
"The party I worked with previously was full of people who always spoke their minds. 'Where did the coordination go wrong?' 'How did I do?' 'Next time let's try a different pattern'... That was the kind of conversation they had during breaks. When they met outside, they argued too. They took their work seriously, though."
Listening to Clara's story, I fell silent.
A party centered around me... That was certainly true. But it was also a party that couldn't function without me.
Until now, my Skills had been covering that up. The moment I could no longer fulfill the role of the perfect command tower, the party stopped working.
(Were my ancestors' Skills even hindering Aria's growth?)
Companions who couldn't make decisions on their own—
The one in the most likely state of confusion right now was probably Aria — going from a situation where she only had to listen to me to one where she had to make her own decisions.
I'd forgotten because Novem had already adapted so well.
"Lyle, why don't you start by having a conversation with your companions first? What can you do, what's missing from you — it's important to see those things from other people's perspectives too."
I felt like Clara had just taught me something important.
I thought back to my ancestors from the previous generation and wished I'd received this kind of advice back then.