Chapter 133: Going Home

Andrew, the Viscount, readily agreed to Gawain’s third request just as easily as the first two.

Though he didn’t quite understand why Gawain needed so many literate people in his domain, it wasn’t something that piqued his interest. To him, this was the least significant of the three tasks. While literate folk were a minority, in the bustling town of Tansang, gathering a group of educated yet impoverished individuals wasn’t too difficult. The merchants’ guild and the church could easily provide such people.

After discussing the three key matters—bulk purchasing magical materials at low prices, recruiting population, and enlisting mid-to-low level intellectuals—Gawain casually brought up the ancient ruins Andrew had uncovered beneath his lands.

“I believe I know the ruins you mentioned,” Gawain said, deliberately not mentioning the similar ruins in the Dark Mountains. Instead, he opened the topic from his “ancient identity.” “You know, I was active seven hundred years ago—back when the Gondor Empire was still flourishing. According to the imperial history I’m familiar with, the ruins in this area are very likely ‘outpost research stations’ left over from the Spark Age of Gondor, probably from the mid to late period of that era.”

Andrew was clearly no fool—indeed, aside from the oddball Rebecca, few nobles in the kingdom were ignorant of history. His face immediately showed surprise. “That means they’re about a thousand years old! And those ancient magical devices inside are still functioning?”

“Exactly. A thousand-year-old ruin with working magical mechanisms isn’t unimaginable for the Gondor Empire back then. But more than the magical devices, the fragments of the Eternal Stone Tablets sealed within are what truly matter,” Gawain shook his head. “Even the Gondor Empire took the Eternal Stone Tablets very seriously. They wouldn’t just abandon such sacred relics in a deserted research station.”

Andrew’s brow furrowed deeply. He had caught the deeper meaning behind Gawain’s words. After a long pause, he said, “I thought I’d discovered a treasure trove, but now I realize the Leslie family has been sitting on a volcano for generations…”

He then looked up at Gawain with a grave expression. “I understand what you mean, and I know you’re the foremost expert on the Gondor Empire—no scholar alive today could surpass your knowledge in this area. So I hope to have your guidance regarding the underground ruins.”

Gawain smiled faintly. This was a wise decision. The Viscount clearly hadn’t been blinded by the prospect of “treasure”—or if he had been, the recent upheaval and the truth about the ruins had sobered him completely.

One fragment of the Eternal Stone Tablet had already thrown this place into chaos, and the ruins likely contained things even more dangerous and terrifying. No one present needed to be told that; it was obvious.

Amber, standing nearby, probably had no idea. She was lost in thought, staring at the ceiling, likely pondering dinner.

“I suggest you explore those dungeons and corridors with extreme caution,” Gawain nodded. “And whatever unfamiliar things you find, it’s best to consult me first. Of course, you can also choose to halt exploration for now—that’s the safer option. Ultimately, these things are on your land, so you can decide how to handle them.”

Night had fallen, so the group stayed in the castle, which was gradually shaking off the taint of dark magic. At dawn, Gawain took his leave from Viscount Andrew and departed.

Watching the messengers running through the town streets, loudly announcing new orders from the lord’s castle, Gawain exhaled quietly.

The Viscount was going to be extremely busy for the foreseeable future. Under the cultists’ influence, unimaginable chaos had accumulated in just a few days. Handling it wouldn’t be easy—lifting the martial law, appeasing merchants and mine owners, burying the dead… but none of that was Gawain’s concern anymore.

As they left Tansang, Amber glanced back at the reopened town gates and curiously looked at Gawain. “You’re surprisingly honorable. The Viscount was at his weakest, and you were holding his life in your hands. Honestly, if you were the most cunning noble, you could’ve taken the Leslie family’s holdings right then and there. Yet you didn’t seize the opportunity?”

Gawain gave her a meaningful smile. “No, you don’t understand. I already did.”

Amber frowned, scrutinizing him. “You didn’t sleep well last night, did you? That sounds like nonsense.”

Gawain just smiled without elaborating.

“First, we’ll stop by Gorlin Mill,” he said, pointing southeast. “Bring that little mute with us—he’s the one who saved Sir Byron’s life.”

Byron looked moved. “Thank you for your kindness. But that child probably belongs to some wealthy merchant in Tansang. Can we just take him away?”

Gawain waved his hand. “I already mentioned this to Viscount Andrew. He’ll find the child’s owner and arrange to buy the child’s freedom for us. It’s a small matter, nothing to worry about.”

At the dilapidated, abandoned Gorlin Mill, they found the mute child again.

The boy remembered everything Gawain had told him before leaving. He had stayed at the mill all day and night, waiting for their return. When Byron and Gawain’s tall figures emerged from the woods, the boy was in the mill’s clearing, carefully roasting a small fire with some unknown dried nuts he’d gathered from the forest.

Seeing them return safely, the boy cheered and ran over, holding out a handful of freshly roasted nuts to Sir Byron.

“Looks like he likes you,” Amber said with a grin. “He even saved some food for you.”

“I’m usually not the type kids like,” Byron took the nuts, scratching his head awkwardly. “I don’t know why this is different.”

Sir Philip thought for a moment and asked Byron seriously, “You’re not married, right?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Byron glanced at Philip. “I’m not like you, with a bunch of girls always hanging around.”

“Being ugly isn’t a crime, don’t worry,” Philip said bluntly but kindly. Before Byron could protest, he added, “Why not adopt this child as your heir?”

Byron froze. “Huh?”

“That’s perfectly reasonable,” Philip said solemnly. “First, he saved your life. As a knight, you can’t ignore that debt. Second, the boy has many good qualities—he’s brave, kind, honest, and intelligent. Though he’s thin now, his physical strength can be built up over time. Of course, his disability is a problem. At this point, regenerative magic won’t help him, so if he’s to enter noble society…”

“Okay, okay, stop talking,” Byron interrupted halfway through Philip’s long speech. “I’m not saying no. Actually, before you arrived… I’d already thought about this.”

He smiled wryly. “I figured if I survived this, I’d bring the boy back to the estate. I just didn’t expect to actually make it.”

Turning to Gawain, Byron’s expression grew serious. He was about to follow the usual procedure for adopting a squire—petitioning his lord and swearing an oath again—but before he could speak, Gawain smiled and nodded. “I’ve already approved it. You should ask the boy what he thinks.”

“You heard what we said, right?” Byron lowered his head, awkwardly forcing a friendly smile as he asked the mute boy, “I want to adopt you. Do you want that?”

The boy looked up, dazed, scanning the adults around him. Then he slowly nodded.

…

Mounting the fast horses tied near the mill, Gawain’s group spent a day returning to the New Cecil domain downstream along the Whitewater River.

Heddy and Rebecca finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Rebecca’s relief was especially complete—in fact, Gawain suspected the silly girl hadn’t really worried about him at all. When she heard the news that the ancestor had returned, the first thing she did was drag him off to tell stories about the castle adventure and the battle against the cultists. Heddy was standing right there, glaring so hard she nearly had a spasm, but Rebecca didn’t notice—just a stubborn little deer, always oblivious to the mood until after the fact.

Gawain just smiled knowingly at Rebecca’s carefree attitude. Probably in her mind, her legendary ancestor from seven hundred years ago was truly invincible. Mere cultists weren’t worth worrying about.

Besides, her super-powerful ancestor had brought along her prized crystal grenades.

Speaking of which, Gawain felt compelled to praise the silly girl. Back at camp, the first thing he did was laugh and pat Rebecca on the head. “Your crystal grenade really made a big difference.”

“Really?!” Rebecca’s eyes lit up. “You actually used it?!”

Gawain smiled. “Only one—just that one blew off a cultist’s arm. And that was a fifth-level fallen druid.”

Of course, many factors played a role: the cultist was already injured, hadn’t cast stronger protective spells, and was holding the explosive himself. But one fact remained:

Even a child could learn to detonate a crystal grenade, and it could injure a fifth-level supernatural warrior.

Rebecca cheered loudly, her voice carrying far beyond the tent.

Outside, Byron and Philip exchanged glances.

“Looks like our young lady got praised,” Byron smiled. “She’s been grinning every day lately.”

“She always did,” Philip said flatly, glancing at the mute boy trailing Byron. “But first, you should take your ‘adopted son’ to wash up and change clothes. From today on, he’s a member of the Cecil domain—and a knight’s child. He needs to keep up appearances.”

Byron frowned. “Who would’ve thought, at my age, no wife, and now I have to learn how to raise a kid…”

Meanwhile, after Rebecca and Heddy finished reporting on the domain’s recent events and left, Gawain lowered his head to look at two items he’d just placed on the table.

One was a fragment of the Eternal Stone Tablet. The other… was a mithril ring taken from the cultists.

A cultist from the End of All Things was a big customer of the mithril treasury? Maybe it was time to contact that “my little pony” lady.

(End of chapter)