Scratch, scratch, scratch. The only sound that filled the office of Sefira’s patriarch was the pen moving incessantly across paper, followed at times by the muted tapping of someone deep in thought. “I want to beat this bastard to death,” cursed Elder Panir as he reviewed documents. However, neither Hissop nor Elder Reganon so much as looked up. They continued to read and sign their own piles of papers. “...‘I was impressed by Sefira’s performance at the Sword of the South Tournament. Why not pay our house a visit?’ Ha, have you ever seen such a damn bastard? They still think they can treat us like we’re nothing!” The fine parchment Panir held stretched taut. It was about to tear, but he stopped just short of actually ripping it. This was for good reason, as the family that had sent the letter was none other than the Duke Forte, the Masters of Swordsmanship of the west. The Forte family was not only a master family but also the house of one of the Four Lords. Thus, even if Sefira was also a master family and the recent victor of the tournament, their proposal could not be dismissed lightly. Yet, accepting it without caution wasn’t the answer either. “What’s their angle? Forte never even treated us as equals, and now they’re throwing around a grand word like ‘impressed’ in a personal letter from the duke?” Panir began analyzing every single word of the letter. This wasn’t paranoia. Nobles truly lived with such layered intentions, and there were hidden intentions to everything. If one failed to discern it, they would be manipulated and used. One had to find it and defend it or use it to their advantage. That was how nobles operated. The three men’s foreheads were about to form deep canyons from the paperwork and mind games when… The office window opened, and Keter stepped inside as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Ugh, smells like paper in here.” Waving his hand near his nose, Keter grabbed a chocolate from the reception table and popped it into his mouth. “Mmm, same flavor as before.” After downing another chocolate or two, Keter finally turned his gaze to Hissop, Panir, and Reganon. “Why the grim faces? You’re making me self-conscious.” “...It’s just that it took me a while to process why you would leave the door and come in through the window.” “Even after going to the Sword of the South Tournament and becoming a knight representing the south, you’re still the same. Chuckle.” “You brat! If you have returned to Sefira, the least you could do is come greet us first—that’s proper manners!” The three, now with an excuse to abandon the mountain of documents, regained some liveliness and each threw a comment Keter’s way. “Hissop, you pretended to be fine during our dinner, but you definitely look like you’re about to collapse from overwork. The elders look healthier than you. Was the elixir I gave them that effective?” “A-ahem. It wasn’t bad.” Before leaving for the tournament, Keter had given Reganon and Panir a Rejuvenation Pill, a rare elixir. After taking it, their skin had noticeably tightened, and they looked visibly more vigorous. Meanwhile, Hissop, who had been overworking both outside and at home, had deep eyebags and dull, rough skin. He had seemed fine at the dining hall, but it seemed to have all been makeup. As Keter pointed out, Hissop was weighed down by exhaustion and his head pounded with headaches, but he still smiled as he replied, “I assume your business at the forge is done. Was Lord Volkanus in good health?” “I think you’re not in a place to worry about someone else’s health right now.” “Haha! Fair enough. But Keter… forgive me, there is something I need to ask, not as your brother but as the deputy patriarch.” Chapters fırst released on 𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚕·𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎·𝚗𝚎𝚝 Hisosp grew serious. Reganon and Panir exchanged looks like the moment had come. “Keter, do you want to become the patriarch of Sefira?” Hissop was asking his younger brother who he had just met today about his willingness to inherit the family’s power. Hissop’s question was a heavy one. There was no knowing what would happen if Keter wanted to become the patriarch. By title and tradition, Hissop, the eldest son and deputy patriarch, had the rightful claim, but Keter was the Bow of the South. He had even exposed and captured knights of the Bydent family who had infiltrated their territory. Compared to that, Hissop’s reputation was lacking. Of course, that didn’t mean Hissop hadn’t contributed. In terms of contribution, his accomplishments were just as valuable as Keter’s. However, they didn’t stand out, and Hissop wasn’t the type to go around bragging about what he had done. In terms of legitimacy, the position rightly belonged to Hissop, but in terms of justification, there was no better candidate than Keter. The soldiers and knights of Sefira were largely indifferent to these internal power dynamics, but Panir and Reganon were not. They understood the weight of the current situation and were tense. The moment Keter declares his intent to become the patriarch—no, even if he so much as hints at it… Sefira, which has just barely achieved unity, will split into two factions once again: the traditionalists who support Hissop, and the pragmatists who are going to rally behind Keter. Reganon hoped to avoid such a crisis. Sefira was already fractured before Keter returned. We only recently managed to bring it together again… Splitting it now would be disastrous. It would be a rift too wide to ever mend. Panir, on the other hand, didn’t necessarily think that was a bad thing. If Keter intends for the patriarch position, then division is inevitable. But a Sefira without Keter is unthinkable. Hissop must now prove that he’s truly fit to lead. Even Panir and Reganon were divided; Reganon believed division had to be avoided at all costs, while Panir felt it didn’t matter as long as it was justified. With things this precarious, the response from the soldiers and knights would undoubtedly be mixed. It was chaos; no one could predict which side would prevail. Everything now hinged on Keter’s answer. “Not the slightest bit interested.” Of course, Keter had no desire to become the patriarch of Sefira. He had decided this even before returning to the family. He would help Sefira recover and grow, but he had no intention of leading it. “Unlike Father and you, I don’t have the patience to sit in a chair all day.” There were countless other reasons, but above all, Keter had no desire for a position that came with such immense responsibility. I don’t want to sacrifice myself just to save someone else, even if that someone is family. What he wanted was status and reward proportional to the effort he put in. He had no interest in a position with excessive responsibilities, even if it was handed to him for free. The three men blinked in surprise at Keter’s reply. That’s the reason he doesn’t want to be the patriarch? Keter’s logic was difficult to grasp, as they didn’t understand the value of freedom. But as they reflected on his actions, they came to understand. He doesn’t want to be tied down. It was a relief for Hissop and Reganon, but a disappointment for Panir. “Let me ask one more thing. Do you have any objections to me becoming the patriarch?” Hissop followed up with another sensitive question. If Keter didn’t support Hissop, but rather someone like Anis… “Not really? I don’t care who becomes the patriarch. Oh, I might oppose it if it were Taragon.” Unlike their concerns, Keter’s answer was simple and sincere. Hissop felt as if a great weight had lifted from his shoulders. Though he saw Keter as his brother and ally, the world was not so optimistic. A part of him feared that he might one day have to compete with his own family for the patriarch position. But Keter’s answer put those fears to rest; it was clear he had no such intentions. “Thank you, Keter, for being honest.” “Honesty is the Solver’s motto.” Keter pulled a business card from his coat and handed it to Hissop. He stood up to receive it and tucked it away with care. “Let me take this moment to express my gratitude again. Thank you for elevating Sefira’s name at the Sword of the South Tournament.” Hissop bowed to thank him, but it was not flattery or submission; it was dignified, noble gratitude, and Keter accepted it with pleasure. “It feels good to be appreciated by you. What about the elders? No kind words from you?” Keter was practically begging for compliments. Reganon and Panir chuckled and obliged. “Thank you. Thanks to you, we’re buried under paperwork once again.” “Since you’re here, why not help us review some of it? Half of these documents are about you, anyway.” Though meant as a joke, Keter walked over and seriously began reviewing the documents. Seeing him genuinely reading them, Panir quickly stopped him. “It was a joke. Put that down.” “From the looks of it, if we worked through the night, we could finish them all... Should I help?” “No, really. We’re fine. We can manage.” When even Reganon stepped in to stop him, Keter seemed disappointed. He muttered, “I really ought to teach a lesson to those who still think Sefira is a pushover…” “Ahem, Keter. Since you’re here, I would like to ask you for a favor. Do you have time?” Hissop asked, trying to shift the mood. Keter scratched his chin. “Not really. My schedule’s packed at the moment.” Keter was turning down a request from the eldest of the family, current deputy and future patriarch, simply because he was busy. Any other families would have been outraged and called for disciplinary action, but Sefira was different. “Keter. With Besil absent, Hissop is practically the head of the family. I hope you’ll honor his request.” “Hissop is asking for a favor. Wouldn’t it be right to help, not just as his brother, but as a fellow member of the family?” Reganon and Panir gently tried to persuade him to reconsider, but Keter didn’t budge. “Elders, do you think I’m going on vacation or something? I’ve got work to do, too. Do you think I’m doing this to make only my life easier? It’s for everyone.” To the elders’ dismay, Hissop himself stepped in on Keter’s behalf. “It’s all right. It wouldn’t be fair to impose the duties of nobility on someone who wasn’t born a noble. I know Keter’s already doing a lot.” “Big Brother, the more I see you, the more I like you. You really understand me.” “I believe Keter has the right to enjoy his freedom. I know you’re looking out for me, but please show him the same trust I do.” With Hissop speaking up so assertively on Keter’s behalf, the elders could only blink in silence. This was Hissop’s first time meeting Keter in person. He had only heard rumors about Keter, and some were hard to believe. Reganon and Panir hadn’t spent much time with Keter either. They did trust him, but not to Hissop’s extent. However, Hissop’s faith in Keter was almost... religious. “Once I finish what I’m working on, your request will be my top priority, Big Brother.” Keter liked Hissop even more now. Hissop wasn’t declining out of fake politeness but accepting his goodwill with genuine sincerity. Without a doubt, Hissop had become the person he liked most in Sefira. In addition, Hissop hadn’t even asked what he was doing next. Keter was sure that Hissop’s trust in him wasn’t blind. He has the makings of a true leader. He knew how to handle people. He had the warmth and discernment similar to the Godfather of Liqueur. A guy knows how to put talented people to use. There were plenty of talented people in the world, but only a few ever discovered their own abilities and made full use of them. That was why gifted individuals needed leaders who could discover and elevate their potential, and Hissop seemed to have exactly those qualities. I think I can start gathering some talent and bring them here. It felt like Hissop could handle even the talented people who had strayed off the path. That night, Keter fell asleep on the main house rooftop, using the starlight as his blanket. At sunrise, he immediately set off for his own house in Liqueur to bring Dork to Sefira. “Before that, I should check how Slurpie is doing.” Slurpie was an A-tier monster in Liqueur that was known as the Red Comet, but it was now a white bat who spent its days eating, sleeping, and playing in Keter’s bedroom, enjoying a life of comfort. It had been over a full month since it last drank blood. Though it was usually given animal or human blood, it was clear its patience was likely reaching its limit. “Gramps said it’s been behaving well. That’s unexpected.” Deciding to reward it with plenty of blood, Keter opened the door to his room. Before he could, the door swung open from the inside, and something white took over him. It moved with such speed and stealth that even the now-improved Keter, fresh from the tournament, hadn’t sensed it. With no time to react, Keter was suddenly tackled by something, leaving him stunned. It was a petite figure reaching only to his waist. They had pearl-white hair and a grip strong enough to snap his spine. A girl in a pure white dress clung to him, rubbing her face affectionately against his stomach.