Chapter 332: The Grant Family

Whenever Gawain started talking about power struggles and the games nobles played, Rebecca and Amber would surprisingly find common ground and form their little fangirl alliance. To these two young ladies, the intricate rules of intrigue between kings and nobles were baffling, overly complicated, and utterly useless. They’d much rather spend their time at home wrestling with wolves, casting fireballs, or sneaking drinks—anything more fun than dissecting political scheming.

Of course, they wouldn’t dare say this out loud in front of Gawain. Amber was always wary that he might actually throw an eggplant at her and pin her to the wall, while Rebecca couldn’t forget the terrifying times she’d been hung from the rafters and beaten by her elders. So after listening to Gawain’s words, both of them put on thoughtful expressions and pretended to ponder deeply. Rebecca finally said, “So, the king is worried that some nobles might cause trouble during the resumption of diplomacy between Ansu and Typhon?”

“Pretty much,” Gawain replied.

“But why would the nobles want to cause trouble?” Rebecca looked confused. “Isn’t it good that the war between Ansu and Typhon can be postponed?”

“That’s good for the king, and good for the common people,” Gawain smiled wryly, “but what benefit does it bring to the nobles who hold their fiefs and territories? For most of them, the king’s wars are just routine obligations. They send out their knights and retainers, who bring their own supplies, and that’s their duty done. Whether the war is won or lost doesn’t really affect them. If they win, the knights return with loot and glory; if they lose—even if the kingdom falls—they just swear allegiance to the Typhon emperor. Their titles and lands remain unchanged. At least, that’s how the game is played for many Ansu nobles. They don’t even know there are other rules in the world.”

For Gawain’s past self, this was an incomprehensible “rule,” but in this life, he had to face the reality: noble warfare in this era was basically a celebration for opportunists and bandits. Nobles might be greedy or brutal, but they all followed the unwritten rules of their game. Their wars rarely ended in total annihilation. Most of the time, they fought to seize wealth and land, and once that goal was met, everyone tacitly stopped and went through a customary “cleanup” process.

Only a few nobles died in battle; most were captured. No one wanted to kill noble prisoners because they could be ransomed for huge sums—sums that were perfectly legal and accepted. The most famous example was the conflict in 576 Ansu between two western counts. With royal approval, Count Tokbel was defeated and captured. To ransom their lord, the Tokbel family paid twice the count’s body weight in gold and nearly thirty percent of their land rights. After the war, both counts and their heirs survived unharmed, and the captured knights and barons returned safely after their families paid ransoms.

Aside from a handful of nobles who died on the battlefield, only about 6,700 commoners lost their lives.

The three cardinal rules of noble warfare were: never kill noble prisoners, never completely destroy a “glorious family name,” and settle wars through ransom payments.

No one broke these rules because they were upheld by all nobles together. They preserved noble “honor” and had maintained the stability of the feudal system for over seven centuries.

Nobles called this “civilized warfare,” likening it to a duel witnessed by the gods—elegant and dignified. Originally, these rules were designed to prevent a fledgling human kingdom from sinking into chaos due to internal strife. But now, they had become a way for nobles to demonstrate their nobility and restraint. Ansu nobles believed that even if Typhon truly invaded and Ansu fell, they could still maintain their dignity by following these rules—simply by swearing allegiance to the Typhon emperor in time.

So they didn’t care about the outcome of the king’s negotiations with the Typhon emperor. They only cared about whether they could gain something in the process. Francis II, to prevent unrest among the nobles, had to preemptively hand out some “benefits.”

These nobles never considered the true intentions behind Typhon’s invasion. Typhon, in the midst of transformation, was like a ravenous beast. Would such a hungry monster care whether its food was loyal?

Gawain glanced at the scroll in Rebecca’s hand and chuckled softly. “Francis II’s recognition of my actual rule over the County of Kant is just a courtesy. The gift of royal lands east of Kant to the Cecil family is meant to keep them ‘quiet’ during negotiations. Although the Cecils have left the kingdom’s power center, I’m back now. Under certain circumstances, my influence could cause him unimaginable trouble.”

“Well, who’d say no to a free gift?” Amber summed up the document’s meaning succinctly, then frowned. “But the king sending a rushed messenger to deliver this—doesn’t that seem sloppy? I don’t understand your noble rules, but this is a deal between a king and a duke. Shouldn’t there be some kind of formal investiture ceremony?”

“Sending a low-key document is all Francis II can do,” Gawain laughed. “Otherwise, what would he do? He’s a royal bastard from seven centuries in the future, trying to invest an ancestor from seven centuries ago as a founding grand duke? And at the ceremony, who bows first? Him or me? Or do we bow together? When I met Charles, we didn’t even bother with formalities. Francis II isn’t afraid of shortening his lifespan!”

Amber imagined the awkwardness of that scene and shuddered. “Ugh, so complicated.”

“Anyway, keep this for now,” Gawain waved his hand. “I have something more important. Rebecca, you know… well, actually, you probably don’t. Go fetch Hetty.”

“What?” Rebecca blinked, a bit nervous at being summoned. “Ancestor, can’t you just tell me?”

Gawain gave her a sideways glance. “Tell you? Do you know the noble lineages of the southern lands?”

“…Oh, then I’ll go find Auntie!”

Rebecca hurried out, and soon Hetty arrived in Gawain’s study.

This elegant lady was not only beautiful and skilled in governance but also quite savvy about noble and royal protocols. She spoke first: “Ancestor, the messenger must have brought the king’s investiture document, right?”

“Exactly. The County of Kant and the royal lands east of it now belong to the Cecil family, but that’s not important,” Gawain waved dismissively. “I called you here to ask if there’s a noble family named ‘Grant’ in the southern lands?”

“Grant?” Hetty furrowed her brow, thinking briefly before nodding. “Yes, the Viscount Grant in the northeast—ah, now it’s a Viscountess Grant who rules that land.”

“Viscountess?” Gawain raised an eyebrow, immediately thinking of Rebecca—she was a viscountess too. “Did the previous Viscount Grant pass the title to his daughter?”

He had already learned from Patty through the mental network that the Grant family was currently led by a woman, so this wasn’t surprising. He was just curious and asked casually.

“No, the previous Viscount was the current Viscountess’s husband,” Hetty shook her head. “He died suddenly in an accident a few years ago. According to his will, the title passed to his widow, Ropeni Grant.”

Ansu’s inheritance laws were relatively flexible. Passing or transferring titles between spouses was not uncommon. In fact, many noble families expanded their influence through shrewd marriages. When nobles wanted to avoid sparking wars, marriage was an important means to gain land and power.

“Ancestor, why are you suddenly asking about the Grant family?” Hetty was curious about why Gawain brought up a noble name they rarely discussed.

Gawain paused briefly, then said frankly, “I suspect this family is connected to the Sleeper.”

“The Sleeper?!” Hetty jumped in surprise. She didn’t question the reliability of this information or ask where Gawain had heard it. Trusting her ancestor completely, she asked directly, “Is it the same situation as with the County of Kant?”

“Not sure yet, but at least one member of the Grant family is deeply involved with the Sleeper,” Gawain said seriously. “Has the Grant family shown any unusual changes in recent years? Like Kant suddenly producing extra resources or thriving in some way?”

“…Not at all. In fact, the opposite,” Hetty shook her head after thinking. “The Grant family used to be prosperous. The young previous Viscount was a promising figure, but he died in a magical experiment accident. After that, the family and their lands quickly declined. Although Viscountess Ropeni has stabilized the situation over the past two years and gradually restored development, there’s no sign of cultist involvement.”

She added, “Of course, the Sleeper’s methods are mysterious. Nothing is certain.”

“A magical experiment accident…” Gawain frowned deeply. “I’m planning to go see for myself.”

“You’re going personally?” Hetty frowned slightly. “It’s unusual for a duke to visit a lower-ranking noble in person…”

“The rules were made by us back then—and I already visited Kant last time. Visiting Grant won’t be any different,” Gawain waved his hand. “Better to see it with my own eyes. Otherwise, I won’t feel at ease.”

“Alright, I’ll make the arrangements,” Hetty bowed her head. “Fortunately, Grant lies just east of Kant. After we acquired the new fief east of Kant, the Cecil domain has already made contact with Grant. As new neighbors, a visit is only proper.”

(End of chapter)