Chapter 41: Visitors from the Family

……

Lorist was stunned. What had Elisa just said? A beggar was looking for some young master called Norton Lorist — that should be Norton Lorist, right? Wasn't that the original name of this body? Everyone had always called him by his nickname Locke, and he'd more or less forgotten that his real name was Norton Lorist — the second young master of the Norton Family from Northland.

"What's wrong? I think I just heard Elisa say your name?" Erh noticed Lorist standing there in a daze and asked. He'd helped Lorist sort out the property deed and tax certificate before, so he did know what Lorist's original name was.

Lorist snapped back to his senses and realized Elisa had already skipped off toward the backyard. He stood up. "The beggar Elisa mentioned is looking for someone named Norton Lorist, from Northland — it seems like he's looking for me. I'm going to go have a look. Might be someone sent by the family."

"Oh?" Erh perked up with interest, biting into his chicken leg as he rose to his feet. "I'll come with you to check it out."

The two of them headed to the backyard, where they saw the beggar Elisa had mentioned — dressed in tattered rags, sitting on a slab of green stone in the backyard, drinking oat porridge. The two chicken legs Elisa had given him were placed on a gray linen napkin beside him, apparently set aside to take with him.

Elisa chewed on the chicken leg in her hand and asked the beggar curiously, "Why aren't you eating the chicken legs? How can you drink the porridge without any side dishes? The chicken legs are really delicious, you know."

The beggar nodded at Elisa and replied with a smile, "Beautiful little princess, thank you for bestowing these delicious chicken legs upon me. It's just that I have a companion, and good things are meant to be shared with one's companions…"

Then the beggar caught sight of Lorist. He froze, set down his bowl, rubbed his eyes, and looked carefully. At last, he confirmed that the Lorist standing before him was no hallucination.

"Young Master, w-wait—Young Master, I finally found you, wuuhhh…" The beggar scrambled forward on all fours, not even caring that his bowl of oatmeal porridge had been overturned. He wrapped both arms around Lorist's leg and wailed uncontrollably, tears and snot streaming down his face.

"Uh…" Lorist tried to pull his leg free, only to find the grip was iron-tight. "Hey, get up first. You are…"

"Young Master, you don't recognize me? I'm Sedekamp!" The beggar lifted a face utterly coated in tears and snot.

"Sedekamp?" Lorist racked his brain, and memories buried deep in the recesses of his mind surfaced before his eyes—a simple-minded young servant with that dopey, honest expression, always trailing behind young Luke and calling out, "Young Master, wait for me…" Young Luke, imperious and demanding, ordering this and rejecting that, while the young servant ran himself ragged trying to keep up…

No wonder the man had recognized him instantly. He had been young Luke's personal attendant since childhood.

"So it is you, Sedekamp. It's been a long time—ten years, hasn't it? Get up now, stop crying." Lorist said with a smile.

But the moment Lorist said this, Sedekamp only cried harder. "Y-Young Master, please go back home quickly! The old master is gone, the eldest young master is gone, and the third young master is gone too! The Norton Family has only you left! Everyone is waiting—waiting for you to come back and inherit the fiefdom… wuuuhhh…"

Lorist's body swayed. Although he had transmigrated into this world, the blood ties between this body and the Norton Family could not be severed. A tremor originating from the deepest reaches of his soul ran through his entire being.

El quickly stepped forward and steadied Lorist. Turning to Sedekamp, he said, "Stop crying. Take your time and explain clearly—what exactly happened?"

"Last year, the master pursued the mountain barbarian bandits who had been raiding the fiefdom, but he fell into an ambush and was gravely wounded. He was bedridden from then on and couldn't hold on any longer by the start of this year. He instructed us to find the young master and bring him back to inherit the fiefdom, and then he passed away. All we knew was that the young master had gone to Morant City ten years ago, but we didn't know which academy he was attending. And since so many years had passed, we had no idea whether the young master was still here, so we had to come and try our luck. We finally made it to Morant City and went academy by academy asking about him, but nobody had heard of anyone named Norton Lorist. And whenever they heard we were from the Northland, they couldn't have been less interested. Pate said that in the old stories, heroes always got their leads from taverns, so I went tavern by tavern asking around. Heavens be praised, I finally found the young master!" Recalling the hardships of the journey to find him, Sedekamp's tears simply would not stop flowing.

Lorist finally steadied himself. "Sedekamp, let me ask you — how did my eldest and third brothers die? And who is this Pat you mentioned? Why does that name sound so familiar? And didn't my third uncle know which academy I was attending? Where is he?"

"The eldest young master died in battle three years ago. He had been conscripted by Duke Lukins to serve under his banner for the Second Prince. When the news reached the master, he took to his bed and never recovered. The affairs of the fiefdom were left to the third young master to manage. Then the year before last, while the third young master was on an inspection tour of the fiefdom, his magical beast mount was startled. The third young master was thrown from his horse and suffered a severe head injury. They rushed him back and fought to save him for three days, but he was gone. The master's condition worsened even further, and it wasn't until last spring that he improved somewhat. But when he heard about the mountain barbarians, he insisted on leading the campaign despite his illness, and that was… Second young master, don't you recognize Pat? He's old Steward Kreis's eldest grandson, the boy who always used to play with you when you were little. He's quite remarkable — he's already an iron-ranked swordsman now. Because we knew you and remembered what you looked like, the old steward sent us to find you."

"It was the eldest young master who defied the master's opposition to join the Second Prince's cause."

What a cascade of bad news. Lorist could hardly imagine that the Norton Family — once hailed by the Krisen Empire's royal court as the Northern Rage Bears — had suffered such a relentless series of misfortunes, falling so low that they needed to recall him, the second young master who had been cast out ten years ago, to inherit the family's fiefdom. It was beyond anything he could have anticipated, enough to make one's heart ache.

Gathering himself, Lorist asked Sedekamp, "And Pat? Where is he now?"

Sedekamp looked somewhat embarrassed. "Pat, he… he's at the dock district, hauling cargo…"

"Hauling cargo?"

"Yes. We ran out of travel funds. Pat can earn enough for a day's meals by hauling cargo," Sedekamp murmured.

"Radi!" Lorist called toward the tavern.

Before long, Radi appeared before him.

"Go hitch up the carriage and take this Sedekamp to the docks to find his companions. Then bring him and his companions to the public baths to get cleaned up, change them into decent clothes, and bring them back to see me." Lorist spoke as he pulled two gold coins from his purse and handed them to Radi.

"No, no, young master, we have money, we can't spend yours." Sedekamp hastily stopped him, then fished around in his clothes and pulled out a grimy coin purse. "Young master, I still have twenty Krisen Empire gold coins here."

"Hm? Didn't you just say you were broke?" Lorist was quite puzzled.

"Young master, these were set aside for your travel fare home. We couldn't use them. Now I can hand them over to you, and at least I won't have to keep worrying about losing them." Sedekamp pressed the coin purse into Lorist's hand, looking immensely relieved.

Lorist felt somewhat moved. Holding on to twenty gold coins and refusing to use them, choosing to haul cargo and beg for food instead — should these family men be called foolish, or just too stubbornly principled? Or perhaps simply devoted to duty?

So Lorist handed Radi two more gold Forde coins. "Get them some better clothes."

Radi led Sedekamp to hitch up the carriage and went off to find Pat.

Lorist returned to the tavern and sat down at the table, his mind restless. He opened the black coin purse and poured its contents onto the table. Twenty shimmering gold coins appeared before his eyes — these coins were a size smaller than the gold Forde, bearing the profile of an old man wearing a crown.

Fatty Shi's interest was piqued at the sight of the coins. He picked one up, gave it a look, and curled his lip in disdain. "Old-timers from the former Krisen Empire — worthless. Takes three of them to exchange for one gold Forde. Now every kingdom and duchy up north uses our gold Forde as currency. Those old-timer coins get bought up by shady merchants and melted down into gold Forde. Just passing them through the hands nets more than double. Where did you get these old-timers?"

"Old Luke's family sent people. They want him to go back and inherit his fief. These old-timers are meant for his travel expenses," Er said.

"What? Luke, you're going back to become a lord?" His companions were stunned, immediately crowding around.

"What's all the fuss? I haven't even decided whether to go back or not." Lorist frowned, looking troubled. He was something of a celebrity in Morant City by now — having lived here for ten years, he had long thought of himself as a Morant man. The sudden news from his family that he was to return and inherit a fief had caught him completely off guard. It was his homeland, perhaps, but to Lorist, it was a place utterly foreign to him.

"There's nothing to hesitate about. Of course you should go back and inherit the fief. Here in Morant City you're nothing more than an academy instructor, but back in your homeland, you'd be a respected landed lord. On your own domain, you'd be the sky for your people — every decision would be yours to make." This came from Terlman, who hailed originally from Rigel, a region famous for producing mercenary knights. The love of warfare and the spirit of adventure were in the blood of every Rigel man.

"But Luke is living perfectly well here — he's even bought a house. Besides, he's a double Gold Instructor at our academy, famous far and wide. What's back there? The Northland is nothing but wasteland, vast and sparsely populated. Pick up a geography book or look at a map and you'll see — it's wild frontier. How could it compare to the comfort and ease of Morant City?" Steve pushed back. He was a local who had always taken pride in being a Morant man.

"Perhaps Luke could go back for a visit, inherit the fief first, and then return. After that, he could leave the management of the domain to his subordinates and just keep living here in Morant City as before." Yuri offered this suggestion, believing it would be the best of both worlds.

Lorist let out a bitter laugh. It was nowhere near as simple as Yuri imagined. His family's fief was far off in the northern wastelands, separated from Morant City by thousands of li — even a fast horse would take more than three months for the round trip. This wasn't like those noble lords whose fiefs sat right on the doorstep of the Mana Hill Plains, mere days' ride away from Morant City.

Fatty Shi asked, "Where are the people your family sent?"

"Reddy took them by carriage to look for their companions. They split up to search for me across Morant City," Lorist replied.

"Search for you? You're practically famous — why would they need to search? Doesn't your family know you're studying and serving as an instructor at Dawn Academy?" Fatty Shi was genuinely baffled.

Lorist explained the situation.

"So that's how it is. No wonder they couldn't find you — everyone in the city knows Black Iron Locke, but probably fewer than ten people combined know your real name. What are you planning to do?" Fatty Shi said, relieved.

"I don't know..." Lorist shook his head. "My mind is a mess right now. I can't figure out what to decide. Let's wait until they come back and get the full picture first."

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

By the time Reddy brought Sedecamp and Pat, both dressed in brand-new clothes, to stand before Lorist, Lorist was holding Alisa and watching Old Luke at the barber shop behind the tavern give Schwar a haircut. Alisa asked Lorist, "Uncle Locke, you said that beggar earlier came looking for you — is he from your family?"

Lorist nodded. "Yes. And we have Alisa to thank for giving him two chicken legs. Alisa really is a good girl."

Alisa scrunched up her little brows and thought for a long while, then suddenly had a realization: "I know now! Uncle Locke's family are beggars!"

"Pfft!" Al, sitting nearby, sprayed a mouthful of wine all over Fatty Shi across from him. He couldn't even bother to apologize, clutching his stomach and laughing so hard he could barely catch his breath: "Al-Alisa — said — said it perfectly — too funny — Locke's fam-family are beggars — haha..."

Lorist didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Alisa, Uncle Locke's family aren't beggars. Look — he's standing right in front of you. Does he look like a beggar?"

Sedecamp, standing before them, had an old face flushed red as a monkey's rear, wishing the ground would split open so he could crawl into it. Pat, beside him, was dressed in a brand-new swordsman's outfit and cut quite the dashing figure, brimming with heroic spirit.

Lorist set Alisa down, stood up, and walked over to Pat. He compared their heights, then let out a sigh. "Pat, it's been so long. We've both grown up — we're not those two bull-headed kids anymore."

Pat took a long breath too. "Yes, young master, we've both grown up."

In his memory, little Locke and Pat had been bitter rivals since they were children. Every time they crossed paths, it ended in a fistfight or a wrestling match, and one of them always stormed off in tears, only to pick another fight the very next day. In the blink of an eye, ten years had passed. Both of them had grown into adults, and meeting again now, there was an unexpected warmth between them.

Lorist clapped Pat on the shoulder and grinned. "Well, well — look at you now, you've grown bigger than me! I can't for the life of me figure out what you've been eating to get so tall. It's been a long and tiring journey for all of you, so enough talk. Sit down and have a proper meal first. I've already had the kitchen get everything ready. Louise — we're ready to be served!"

Lorist called out twice to Louise, then turned back to Old Luke. "Old Luke, once you're done with Schrader, do Reddy next. After you've finished with both of them, that makes ten people all together. I'll give you two large silver coins."

"You got it! I'll make sure they all look like new." Old Luke was quite pleased.

Lorist stopped the fidgeting Sedecamp and Pat with a tone that brooked no argument. "This is my turf. Now that you're here, you do as I say — not to mention I'm still your young master. Just follow my arrangements. Once you've all eaten your fill and gotten cleaned up, I'll take you home. Whatever you've got to say, we can talk about it slowly after we get there."