Regressor Of The Fallen Family [EN]: Chapter 102

“Just us? Me, you, and the Young Master? Only three? No servant?”

Dwayne, who had come with supplies, looked bewildered.

He knew they should bring few people for the funeral. But this still seemed too few.

But Logan remained calm, even with Dwayne’s question.

“It’s been a few days already. We’re far into the southwest. If we hurry to the capital, we’ll barely arrive for the national funeral.”

“Why me, though?!”

“You asked if we had no servant.”

“Yes? Don’t tell me…”

“Since you came this far, you’ll have to work.”

And so, a finance administrator in his forties was made a servant by the Young Master.

Thud thud thud.

“Lord! Too much riding! Ugh!” Dwayne gasped, bouncing in the saddle.

“Stop talking and try to ride properly, Dwayne,” Logan said, not slowing down. “Or you won’t be able to sit down later!”

“Aargh! Why me?” Dwayne yelled. He was a heavy man, and riding was hard. But Logan and Patrick rode fast, not caring about his complaints.

The group’s hard ride for two days stopped when they saw a splendid carriage pulled by four black horses on the road.

The flag on the carriage showed a rose burning in flames.

“Well, well. Even enemies are connected, aren’t they? And those connections are hard to break. How amusing.”

The voice of the blue-eyed, blond middle-aged man from the carriage was clear, even from far away.

“Indeed, Count. Why stop and wait for us? You could have gone on,”

“I wanted to see the faces of those whose lives were saved. Maybe some of that luck will rub off on me.”

“I’d prefer you went straight to the afterlife. Don’t block the road.”

“Patrick McLaine. You were lucky to survive, but that will end after the funeral. Provoking me will only make your end worse.”

“Looks like you’ll have a miserable end, not us. If you won’t move, we’ll go first, right?”

Flanz and Aslan stood to Roger Vifroth’s left and right, with three high-ranking knights behind them.

If a fight started, they would be at a disadvantage, but Patrick showed no fear.

“Hah… I know what you’re relying on. If McLaine is hurt before the funeral, everyone will blame me. But so what?”

As soon as Roger Vifroth spoke, killing intent came from his group.

“Do you think I care? I can bury you here and clean up the mess.”

Clang!

Vifroth’s knights drew their weapons and stepped forward.

Patrick’s face hardened slightly, and Dwayne turned pale.

“Tsk, what a bluff. If you didn’t care, you’d attack now. Stop the talk and let’s go our own ways. You must be late too, right?”

The Count looked at Logan, who spoke calmly.

“…Heh. Hee hee hee. It all started with you, Logan McLaine. Enjoy your last days. I can’t wait to see your face when McLaine burns.”

Roger Vifroth gestured, and the knights stepped back.

Then Logan spurred his horse and passed him.

Patrick followed with an indifferent look.

“Keep my sword safe, Baron. I’ll be back for it soon.”

Aslan, looking tired with sunken cheeks, spoke sharply. But the McLaine father and son smirked and passed by.

However, Dwayne was pale and trembling in the brutal atmosphere, and forced himself to follow.

Roger Vifroth, pleased with that expression, said to their backs:

“When you go to the capital, I advise you not to come back down. Stick close to the Swordmaster, or even Dylan. Hide well. A noble who lost his land is better than a dead one.”

Patrick’s hand tightened on the reins for a moment, though he didn’t turn around.

But Logan didn’t answer, and the three horses sped up, leaving the unwanted company behind.

At the front was Dwayne, who had been complaining about being tired and wanting to rest.

“Lord! Young Lord! Faster! The national funeral is soon, why are you so slow!”

His fussiness was funny and lessened his worries about the future.

“So, what’s going to happen?”

“How would I know? That’s the problem.”

“The funeral…”

“It only matters to the nobles. What about us…”

“What do you think will happen?”

Chatter chatter.

The capital, Gran, was even more chaotic than before.

People from the west gate talked about the king’s death whenever they gathered.

Thud.

“Move aside.”

“You move.”

Two knights stared each other down, standing close despite the space around them.

But neither drew their swords.

“It’s those guys again.”

“The Davis family and Clete…”

“They’re not even the First or Second Prince, so why are the low-ranking knights acting like that?”

Everyone could see the groups were fighting, something not seen before.

Using force was banned for the funeral; otherwise, a sword fight could start anywhere.

The faces of people on the streets were dark.

“The atmosphere is worse than I thought.”

“It can’t be helped.”

“What’s going to happen to the world…”

“Lord, is the world the problem? We’re the problem. What are you going to do about those guys!”

Dwayne, who smiled when he came to Tomodo Castle, was gone.

Ever since he met Roger Vifroth and heard about the power difference between Vifroth and McLaine, he had been like this.

Even if he was the most trusted vassal, he had endured it for three days, which was a lot.

“Enough, Dwayne. Logan can solve this, so stop fussing. Right?”

“Of course, Father.”

“…I wish you had told me about this.”

Logan smiled, as if uneasy.

He didn’t want to talk about what he planned to do.

“Don’t smile like that. It makes me uneasy.”

“That smile means he’s planning trouble, Lord. Watch him closely!”

“Let’s unload the luggage at the mansion first. Are you going to stand here?”

“A mansion? You found a place to stay already?”

“It’s not just a place to stay, it’s a mansion. I bought it last time I was here, before we left the capital. I thought it would be better than always staying at the Sword Master’s house when things happen…”

Logan hadn’t seen it himself, but he trusted Phillip to find a good place. He wasn’t worried.

“Then why not just stay in a hotel instead of buying a house?”

“You’ve already caused trouble, haven’t you? Why buy a house in the capital? How much did it cost? I heard you spend too much money.”

Logan chuckled, watching Dwayne’s face fall. Dwayne mumbled to himself, looking very unhappy.

“Welcome, sir. Young Master. I am Retro, the butler of this mansion. These are the maids, Lena and Lucy. Please, say hello.”

An old man, mostly white hair with a few brown strands left, bowed politely. The maids bowed with him.

The garden was small, and the two-story house behind them was quite modest. It didn’t really look like a mansion.

But it was in the inner city, the nice part of town. Even though it wasn’t fancy, it looked clean and elegant. Logan knew it must have cost a lot, even if it was small.

Dwayne nodded and asked the butler, ignoring Logan and his father who were going inside.

“Butler, how much does a place like this cost?”

“Mr. Phillip bought it from the last owner for about 3 million gold.”

“T-three million?! Y-Young Master! How can a house cost that much!”

“And at the current market price, it’s about 5 million gold.”

Dwayne was about to yell at Logan, who had already gone inside. But he stopped, turning back to the butler, his face completely shocked.

“F-five million?”

“Yes.”

“You said you bought it a few months ago…”

“Prices have risen recently due to the turbulent times.”

“Hmm. Hmm. Well, then…”

Dwayne turned around, now smiling widely. The butler watched him, wondering if he should also mention the monthly fees and taxes. *Perhaps not right now,* he thought.

“So, what are you going to do now?” Patrick asked. He always asked the same question, and it showed he was worried. They had put down their bags quickly.

Patrick didn’t make a big deal like Dwayne, but he was just as worried about what would happen after the National Funeral.

“I’m going to see Master first.”

“I see. Is the Sword Master the solution you had in mind?”

“……Yes? Ah, no. I just wanted to say hello since I came to the capital.”

If that man knew what I was about to do, he might try to behead me.

Logan hid his true feelings and gave his father an awkward smile.

The National Funeral would start tomorrow. What Logan planned to do could only happen after it was finished. *Phillip isn’t here yet either,* Logan thought. Until then, he would just watch and see what was happening around him.

“Is that so? Then I’ll come with you. I’m actually excited to meet the famous Sword Master, even at my age.”

Logan sighed inwardly. His father was coming with him. Logan was now even more worried about what might happen.

“Young Master Logan, welcome.”

“It’s been a while, Jegan.”

After saying hello to Jegan, the knight guarding the Sword Master’s house, Logan went inside. Louis, his always reliable assistant, came to guide him.

“You didn’t need to come out yourself, Louis.”

“But you are the Sword Master’s only student. Of course I would come. Don’t worry about it.”

Louis spoke calmly, as if it was no big deal. *Actually, seeing your face is a bit stressful,* Logan thought. He still wasn’t used to being led around by Louis, who used to be his captain in his past life.

So, Logan quickly changed the subject. “How is the Sword Master?”

“He’s very shocked. No one thought the King would die like that.”

“Hmm?” Patrick tilted his head, looking like he thought something was odd. Logan realized he might have said something wrong and quickly asked another question. “Oh, do you know how the King died?”

He asked, knowing the answer, just to change the subject.

“He suddenly collapsed while he was working. The temple said it was a brain bleed because he was working too hard. By the time the priests got there, it was too late.”

“Yes?” Logan was really surprised. This was not what he remembered about the King’s death. In his past life, everyone said the King had died peacefully in his sleep, with no problems. The temple had said it was just his old heart giving out.

That was why he had been puzzled by the king’s healthy appearance when he met him.

*Even if he looks healthy on the outside, I thought it could be possible if he was an old king. But…*

Overwork? Cerebral hemorrhage?

The king of a nation collapsing while attending to state affairs?

*It seems similar to old age, but… it’s a bit unsettling.*

He couldn’t figure out why history had changed.

Perhaps…

“I don’t mean to be rude, but… do you think it might not have been an accident?”

“Lots of people saw it happen. The Sword Master even looked into it himself, but he didn’t find anything strange.”

“…” *What’s done is done.* Now wasn’t the time to investigate the King’s death. Logan put the question aside for now and quietly followed Louis.

No, he tried to follow, but then his father spoke from behind. Logan felt cold sweat on his back. “Logan,” Patrick said, his voice serious. “What you said doesn’t match what’s happening.”

“The Sword Master must be very upset. He was close to the King, wasn’t he, Louis?” Patrick asked, his voice too casual.

“Ah, yes. Well… yes,” Louis stammered. “They were friends since they were young.”

“The Sword Master always worried about the King’s health,” Patrick continued, “but it seems even he couldn’t stop this.”

“Ah… yes. These things… are hard to stop,” Louis said, looking uncomfortable.

It was normal for old friends to worry about each other’s health. *Why is he saying all this?* Logan wondered. Louis looked at Logan, confused. But Patrick seemed to relax a little. Maybe he believed it now.

Seeing his father’s face, Logan thought Patrick seemed convinced. Logan finally let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and started walking again.