Chapter 20: Investment Value
Gawain was beginning to find this Viscount Andrew an intriguing character.
He seemed more like a businessman than a nobleman.
But at the same time, he wasn’t exactly a savvy businessman—at least, not in Gawain’s eyes.
A shrewd merchant wouldn’t lay all the cards on the table so early—talking openly about deals, stakes, debts. And a nobleman wouldn’t stoop to discussing such matters at all. The best move for Viscount Andrew right now would be to quietly continue supporting the Cecil family, while subtly extending his influence among the knights and soldiers under their protection. Using his noble status, he could legally establish a “claim” or debt owed to him by the Cecils, ideally pushing this claim before the king. After that, whether Rebecca was willing or able to repay it would become irrelevant.
The kingdom’s laws and the aristocratic system would work in his favor to seal the deal.
Of course, Gawain understood Andrew’s mindset. The decline of the Cecil family was common knowledge, especially now that their core lands had been utterly destroyed. How much “repayment ability” Rebecca really had was anyone’s guess.
“The Cecil family doesn’t owe anyone anything,” Rebecca said, though her words lacked conviction. “Rest assured, we have the means to repay. Though we lost our richest territories, some of the forests on the outskirts remain. And as long as I, the heir, am alive, there’s always a loan in the mithril treasury belonging to the Cecil family waiting to be called in. At worst—”
Gawain cleared his throat, cutting her off.
He felt he’d seen enough theatrics and had a good grasp of the situation. His memories were mostly sorted out, so he stood up. “Rebecca, don’t be hasty. Viscount Andrew, you need to look further ahead.”
Andrew glanced at Gawain. This man—who seemed like some ancient hero risen from the past—still carried a certain weight, whether real or not. The viscount reined himself in. “Apologies. I admit I am… a bit greedy.”
He actually admitted to greed so openly, which surprised Gawain. He raised an eyebrow. “You’re honest, at least. Seeking profit isn’t shameful. But we need to be clear about the reality: a viscount’s lands have been destroyed, a dragon has appeared within the kingdom, and monsters from the magical tide era have returned. In the face of all this, talking business is premature.”
Before Andrew could respond, Gawain continued, “That said, after the lofty talk, we still have to face reality. If you worry that aiding the Cecil family will only pile up losses, let me be clear: the Cecils not only can repay any debts, but if you seize the opportunity, we can bring you limitless profit.”
Andrew looked Gawain in the eye. “Please, go on.”
“I myself,” Gawain said, pointing to himself, “am your greatest investment.”
Andrew’s expression froze for a few seconds, then he forced a wry smile. “Duke… Your Grace, I want to believe you truly are that duke, but I must remind you—you’ve been dead for seven hundred years. Ansu is now in its second dynasty. Your titles and estates have long since been divided, inherited, spent, or… reclaimed by the crown. Of course, I respect you personally—every Ansorian does—but I’m not just an individual; I’m a lord. I have to consider my lands and my people.”
Gawain shrugged. “Broaden your perspective, Viscount. Is investment value only about gold and tangible lands?”
Andrew asked, “You mean…”
“I have permanent pioneering rights,” Gawain lifted the sword in his hand. “When Gawain Cecil wields the Sword of the Pioneer, I have the right to settle and develop any unclaimed land—within Ansu’s borders, beyond the kingdoms, even the wastelands of Gondor—anywhere without legal dispute. As long as I maintain control after settling these lands, wherever the Sword of the Pioneer goes becomes Cecil family territory. The Ansu crown will always recognize and guarantee my lordship.”
As he spoke, Andrew’s eyes grew wider and wider. Gawain deliberately slowed his speech. “This pioneering right was granted by Ansu’s founding monarch, Charles I, and recognized by the western Augure tribes, the eastern Typhon Empire, the southern Highland Kingdom, the Elven Silver Empire, and the northern city-states. It’s valid indefinitely—as long as the authorized pioneer, that is me, lives, it remains in effect.”
“This law wasn’t just for me. Every founding pioneer had one. But today… I’m the only one left who can exercise it.”
Gawain grinned broadly. “Those old timers who signed these documents never imagined I’d one day rise from the grave.”
Andrew was still dumbfounded, but Rebecca couldn’t help but exclaim, “Ancestor… Sir! Is this… true?!”
“Who’s been teaching her history?” Gawain muttered, rubbing his forehead and shooting a sideways glance at Hetty. “Or has this law been repealed? If so, that’d be awkward—though I doubt the rulers would bother convening a summit after centuries just to cancel an obsolete pioneering act.”
“Actually, I teach Rebecca’s history lessons,” Hetty blushed, “but her grades have never been good.” Then she quickly answered Gawain’s question. “And no, that law hasn’t been repealed. While the pioneers were alive, no one dared touch it. After the last pioneer died, it became a symbol of honor and humanity’s resolve to rebuild civilization. No one would dare repeal it now.”
Viscount Andrew added, “Not only that, historians and scholars have written extensively about it…”
Gawain shrugged. “So my sudden resurrection is both a surprise and a blessing for them—the seven-hundred-year-old law finally has a use again.”
Andrew fixed his gaze on Gawain, especially on the Sword of the Pioneer. “I admit, this is… an angle I never considered. With permanent pioneering rights, you do have a chance to revive the Cecil family. But frankly, this will be a very long-term venture. Do you know how many unclaimed lands remain on the kingdom’s borders?”
“I have some idea. My descendants have told me on the road,” Gawain glanced at Hetty and Rebecca. “Basically, all habitable lands have been parceled out. The unclaimed areas are dense forests, poisonous swamps, or border the Gondor wastelands.”
“So what’s your plan?” Andrew spread his hands. “Where will you rebuild your family?”
“That’s what I need to figure out,” Gawain smiled, but in his mind, a vast map unfolded—an aerial view of the land, a satellite map so detailed and expansive that no one in this era could replicate it. It was deeply etched in his memory, though it might be years or even decades out of date (since he’d lost contact with that vantage point). Still, it was enough to guide his future path. “You just need to consider one thing… the investment value of a founding duke who participated in the Second Pioneering and still holds permanent pioneering rights.”
Andrew lowered his head, seriously contemplating the matter for the first time.
After a long pause, he broke the silence. “If your permanent pioneering rights are truly recognized by the crown, then this humble viscount would be glad to offer whatever help I can.”
A perfectly polished noble’s response—flawless, respectful, and cautious.
Rebecca’s eyes widened. “Could it be that the permanent pioneering rights recognized by the founding monarchs and ancestors will also be recognized by His Majesty the King?!”
Gawain smiled at the young woman. “Of course, he doesn’t want to recognize it. In fact, there’s a very good chance he won’t even acknowledge my identity. Even if Charles I himself appeared to prove I’m real, the king and his advisors would probably still pray I’d just die on the spot and be buried back in the ancient tombs of the southern kingdom.”
“Why?!” Rebecca felt her worldview shaken. “You’re a founding duke! A figure enshrined in the halls of power! The king and nobles commemorate you every year. Don’t they want you to come back and help the kingdom again?”
Gawain was about to explain when Amber, sitting across the table, shouted, “Because they’d lose three days off!”
As she said this, the half-elf winked at Gawain, earning a sharp glare from Hetty.
“Don’t listen to her nonsense—that was my joke,” Gawain waved his hand. “The real reason… Hetty and Viscount Andrew have probably figured it out.”
Hetty sighed. “The king honors heroes because their image and reputation help solidify his rule. But he would never want the hero to return. If the hero comes back, those images and reputations are no longer under his control…”
With Andrew present, Hetty refrained from saying more—especially since this king descended from a bastard and lacked legitimate claim.
“So the question is clear,” Gawain looked down at the Sword of the Pioneer at his waist. “We just need to make my permanent pioneering rights effective.”
(End of chapter)