Chapter 184: Arrangements

The moment Gawain stepped into the great hall, Amber dashed over in a blur, her first words upon seeing him: “Oh my god, you finally made it! If you hadn’t come soon, I don’t know how much longer I could’ve held on!”

“Weren’t you looking forward to strutting around in my name?” Gawain gave her a puzzled look. “So why do you look like this now that you actually have the chance?”

“Don’t even mention it,” Amber grimaced. “It’s nothing like I imagined! When I was working before, there weren’t so many eyes watching me—this kind of spotlight is just too hostile…”

Gawain sighed inwardly. “I still can’t figure out where your mysterious sense of pride in this rogue profession even comes from.”

With that, he left the enigmatic half-elf thief to her own devices and strode up to the dais.

Immediately, dozens of eyes in the hall turned to him.

Scanning the crowd, Gawain recognized the castle’s advisors, the treasurer, the chief knight, the holy light priest he’d met the night before, and several anxious-looking local gentry bearing the emblem of Morning Dew—likely the estate stewards who had rushed in from the town to help manage the Kant family’s holdings. Judging by their expressions, Gawain knew the situation was pretty much as he had expected.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Gawain began, his voice low and steady, his imposing height commanding attention and calm, “I imagine you’re all feeling confused and unsettled. You’ve just realized that the events of the past decades are very different from what you remember or believed. I’m here to answer your questions.”

“Last night, something grave happened in this castle. It is with regret that I must tell you—the Kant family came to an end that night…”

Gawain chose his words carefully, delivering the truth plainly but gently. He explained that they needed to maintain order in the Kant lands during the coming period and take responsibility for liaising with neighboring nobles and the king’s investigators. Yet he softened the more shocking details—the mountain of corpses beneath the old stables, the land’s near corruption by a terrifying nightmare creature.

After all, the so-called “Young Master Belm” had already stepped fully into the real world.

If he laid it all out bluntly, it would sound sensational. It was better for those present to see for themselves and truly grasp what had happened.

When Gawain finished, a heavy silence fell over the hall. After a few seconds, uneasy murmurs began to rise. The holy light priest repeatedly traced sacred symbols over his chest, trying to dispel the fear gripping him. The chief knight, now the Kant Castle’s instructor and nearly white-haired, couldn’t hold back and asked loudly, “What should we do now?”

“The future of this land has already been arranged by Viscount Kant,” Gawain nodded, pulling out the letters left by Victor Kant. “Though trapped by nightmares, the Viscount was a tenacious warrior. You should be grateful—he used the last of his soul’s strength to provide a way forward for everyone. First, regarding the inheritance of the estate…”

Gawain carefully explained each of the Viscount’s instructions. After encouraging the stewards present, he opened the floor for discussion and stepped down from the dais, heading to a tea table on the hall’s west side to rest.

This was a deliberate gesture, signaling that the Cecil family would not take advantage of the situation to swallow up the Kant lands—a common practice in these times, especially since the Second Dynasty’s founding, when royal authority over nobles weakened and border lords frequently fought and encroached on each other. Gawain’s stance was meant to reassure those present.

But not everyone shared his view. Shortly after he sat down, a short, stout middle-aged man in black approached, bowing respectfully but nervously. “Your Grace, I am Patrick Baum, advisor to Viscount Kant. There are matters I wish to discuss with you.”

“The late Viscount’s advisor?” Gawain regarded the man, who looked honest and scholarly—fitting the image of a noble’s counselor. “What is it?”

“Well… we’ve lost our lord, and worse, our steward Mr. Carter is gone too. Without a leader, I, a mere administrative advisor, am tasked with maintaining order across the estate. I worry whether I have enough authority,” Patrick said anxiously, clearly overwhelmed by facing someone of Gawain’s stature. “So, after consulting with several gentlemen, we hope you might… temporarily act as the lord of Kant, to help us through this difficult time. Of course, this is a bold request, and we understand if you refuse.”

Gawain raised an eyebrow but showed no surprise. “You want me to serve as acting lord?”

“That seems the best choice,” Patrick said helplessly, spreading his hands. “You are the most respected and capable noble we can reach. No one else can control the situation now. And you saved this land directly—no one would oppose your stewardship, in reason or feeling.”

Gawain smiled calmly. “I have no intention of becoming lord of Kant, even temporarily.”

Patrick looked uneasy. “But—”

“Let me finish,” Gawain waved him off. “You know why I would take on that role, but other nobles outside won’t necessarily see it the same way. Kant is a small estate; I don’t want it to become a stain on my reputation. Personally, and officially, the Viscount was a royal vassal directly appointed by the king. The transfer, repossession, or regranting of his lands can only be decided by the crown. Though I am senior to Francis II, I have no intention of breaking the rules we set with Charles back then.”

“…You are truly just and upright.”

“Of course, I understand your difficulties. So I will issue a statement in the name of Duke Cecil, providing nominal protection over Kant until a new lawful lord is appointed. Once that happens, my protection will end.”

Patrick blinked, seeming to grasp Gawain’s careful reasoning, and bowed respectfully. “Your arrangements are indeed thorough.”

Gawain nodded and took the opportunity to give instructions. “I want you to post a notice informing the dismissed castle servants and the lord’s direct serfs that if they face hardship, the Cecil family is ready to take them in. They will receive fair treatment as free people in the new Cecil lands.”

“They will surely be grateful for your kindness.”

“Also, the Viscount gifted me all his property, but I believe you need it more. Except for a few southern farms that will be incorporated into Cecil lands, the castle’s assets remain with you. Now that the steward is gone, you and the chief knight must manage these resources wisely. Understand?”

Patrick’s surprise was genuine. After a few seconds, he hurriedly nodded. “Yes… yes, your generosity moves me! I swear on my name that every copper left by the late lord will be used properly!”

“Good. I trust you and the diligent people who helped the Kant family will maintain order here. Also, since a large wilderness separates the two estates, I will assign someone to travel between them and assist with management. The connection between Kant and Cecil will be closer than ever.”

Patrick bowed sincerely. “That is excellent.”

“There are some practical matters too. First, the distribution of charcoal after winter sets in. I heard that in past years, the Viscount and his lady would give charcoal to the poor to keep them warm, sometimes even food—though those were dream illusions, the benefits to the people were real. I don’t want this tradition to end with the lord’s passing. Post a notice assuring the people that this winter, under the Cecil family’s protection, they will still receive charcoal and food. You handle the details annually, so it should be no problem, right?”

Patrick nodded repeatedly. “Yes, of course. In fact, we began preparations two weeks ago. The charcoal is already stored in the castle’s warehouse…”

After arranging a few more minor matters, Gawain watched Patrick return to the group and begin conveying his wishes to the stewards. He smiled and sipped the now-cold tea beside him.

A young maid hurried over, clearly flustered, perhaps trying to make up for some mistake. Gawain waved her off gently. “No need. Cold tea is fine. By the way, if you can’t find work, remember Cecil lands are open—we provide food, lodging, and even land.”

“You’re always trying to recruit people,” Amber said, munching on a small snack, shooting Gawain a slightly critical glance. “But you’re giving away the best benefits…”

Gawain just smiled softly. “You’ll understand someday. But for now, don’t ask too many questions.”

Amber pouted. “So mysterious.”

Gawain didn’t explain further. Instead, he called over Sir Philip, who had been resting nearby. “From now on, you’re in charge of communication between Kant and Cecil, and you’ll oversee this land on my behalf.”

“Yes, my lord,” Philip nodded, though a trace of worry lingered. “But I’ve never done this kind of work before…”

“Don’t overthink it. I’ll tell you what to do. Otherwise, just keep me updated on Kant’s situation. You don’t need to live here permanently—just visit once or twice a month. Knight, this place has suffered greatly, and many people need help.”

Philip’s resolve surged. “Yes, my lord! I won’t let you down!”

Gawain exhaled, looking around the grand castle hall. Suddenly, he found himself missing the fields and work sites of Cecil lands.

The cleanup was arranged, the details entrusted to others. It was time for him to leave.

(End of chapter)