Ch.2424. Compensation

Office of the Royal Order Commander.

Lufus Waynelight was sitting upright, staring straight ahead.

‘…Erick.’

Yes, he was thinking about Erick first.

Erick, who had been beaten in front of dozens of disciples. Even treated like a beggar at the end.

Though it stemmed from a misunderstanding, he couldn’t imagine how humiliating it must have been for the person involved. He was probably still trembling with shame.

But it wasn’t just Erick he was thinking about.

“He’s not the only member I’ve ruined.”

Waynelight recalled the many members who had passed through under his command.

Erick was the first and last member he had dismissed through disciplinary action since becoming commander, but countless others had left because of his mistakes.

It wasn’t that there were too many to count; he had never bothered to count them in the first place.

Now he was beginning to understand why he had so easily overlooked them.

‘I didn’t… no, I refused to consider that they might have different goals and thoughts from mine.’

He was a man born into privileged circumstances.

Being born as the heir to a wealthy count’s family was fortunate to begin with.

His territory sustained itself on a salt mine with the second-highest production in the Empire.

He could have lived a wealthy life even if he had been lazy, but Waynelight had aimed to become a knight since childhood. Even now, he had left his territory to his younger brother.

Fortunately, he was also exceptionally talented.

Though his physique was average, his aptitude for aura was outstanding. He had reached Expert level before even entering the Academy, and on his first day joining the Royal Order, he had thoughtlessly defeated three members in consecutive guidance matches (essentially an initiation). As a result, he ate his meals alone.

After that, he continued to succeed brilliantly, accumulating impressive achievements.

He had once single-handedly held off the former Tetrad member, the ferocious “Nevanaha,” for half a day. Twenty years ago, he had also resolved the succession dispute of the Arcknite duchy that had nearly led to civil war. And he had regularly hunted high-level monsters.

At some point, everyone who caught his eye tried to please him in some way.

People laughed at his pointless remarks, and when he was stubborn, even unreasonable demands were met. It was because he had reached the pinnacle of both power and might.

Living such a consistent life for decades, he had unknowingly lost one ability.

The ability to understand other people’s feelings and thoughts.

To be honest, it might be more accurate to say he had no interest. All that mattered to him was not ruining the Order.

‘I can’t undo what’s been done.’

Waynelight closed his eyes, recalling Erick’s empty expression as he stared at the coin on the ground.

He wanted to ride to District 3 where Erick lived. He wanted to confess that he had made a baseless misunderstanding and ask how he could be forgiven.

If Erick wanted reinstatement, he would grant it. It would greatly damage his own reputation, but no one would dare laugh at Waynelight anyway.

But he didn’t think Erick would want that.

He had inflicted critical wounds not once, but twice. He had no idea how to even begin apologizing.

‘In times like these, it’s better to focus on what I can do from this position.’

Commander Waynelight gathered his thoughts and raised his voice.

“Enter, Ramsey.”

“…Yes.”

A member entered the commander’s office with a timid response.

Ramsey, a veteran member of ten years. He was known for his droopy seaweed-like hair.

He possessed upper Expert-level skills and was quite proficient with a spear.

Though he had a reputation for gossiping, he diligently followed orders. That’s probably why he had lasted ten years.

However, he had suffered an irreversible injury during the operation to save the Border Marquis.

“How is your injury?”

Ramsey lowered his head with a gloomy expression, and Waynelight looked at his empty sleeve.

He had lost his right hand.

Losing a hand was fatal for a knight. No, it was more than fatal—it meant the end of his career as a knight. Even losing a pinky finger would disrupt one’s form, let alone an entire hand.

“You lost it to the Beast King, I heard.”

“…Yes. Because of that creature’s sudden intrusion, I was careless.”

“No. Your knightly career has ended early because of my foolishness. When I heard the Beast Tribe had joined forces, I should have gone myself.”

“I appreciate your words, at least.”

“And I have one more thing to apologize for.”

Waynelight decided to honestly reveal his mistake to Ramsey. It felt somewhat awkward, as he had rarely done this before.

“I thwarted your opportunity to be appointed as the Baron of the Border Marquis.”

Ramsey’s face dramatically contorted.

An expression of disbelief. It seemed Erick had pursued this without prior consultation with Ramsey. He probably did it secretly to preserve Ramsey’s pride.

“It was unlikely to succeed anyway, but I won’t make excuses. I’ve committed an unforgivable sin against both you and Erick.”

“Why is Erick… mentioned here?”

“It was Erick who tried to give you the opportunity. He probably couldn’t bear the news of you losing your hand.”

“……”

Ramsey wore a blank expression of disbelief.

It left an even worse taste in his mouth, as he had not only ruined Ramsey’s chance for a title but also an opportunity for reconciliation between Ramsey and Erick.

“Still, rest assured. Erick has already established relief facilities in the refugee camp and extended a helping hand to the Border Marquis, which was devastated by the Beast Tribe’s offensive. Like you both, he seems to be misunderstood by the nobles, but I intend to resolve that issue.”

“……”

“So you can prepare for life after the Order without worry. I’ll make arrangements so you can help the impoverished commoners as you wish. If necessary, I’ll even use my personal fortune to support your endeavors.”

Waynelight forced a smile to reassure Ramsey.

He didn’t feel like smiling at all, but he thought Ramsey might hesitate to ask for help if he appeared cold.

“You can trust me, Ramsey.”

Was even this not enough to earn his trust? Ramsey left the commander’s office with barely a semblance of courtesy.

It was disrespectful behavior, but Waynelight had no intention of pointing it out.

Rather, he could vaguely sense Ramsey’s true feelings.

Ramsey didn’t seem to harbor entirely positive feelings toward Erick. He probably felt bitter seeing a commoner like Erick single-handedly carrying out and succeeding in the relief work he had wanted to do in his own name.

Though it might be considered jealousy, it didn’t appear malicious. After all, it stemmed from a desire to help people.

‘I should try to understand the feelings of my members from now on.’

Better late than never.

And the first step was to protect Erick from the nobles’ misunderstandings.

There were several nobles who viewed Erick negatively, just as he himself had until recently. Particularly those who had lost significant money on Cordana seemed to harbor great misunderstandings. Or perhaps they simply wanted to vent their anger.

“Meanwhile, the best way to protect him would be to grant him a title…”

It wasn’t an easy task. But sending him to the Border Marquis would prevent Erick from directly managing the facilities in District 18.

After pondering for a while, Waynelight recalled the authority he had been granted in the first year of the current Emperor’s reign.

A promise to grant any one wish. The Emperor had made this promise saying, “Thank you for supporting me in the succession competition.”

He hadn’t particularly supported anyone, so at the time he had thought, “What’s this about?” But since it was offered, he had accepted it.

He had forgotten about it for nearly 20 years, but now seemed to be the time to exercise that authority.

Waynelight immediately entered the Imperial Palace.

***

Ding- Ding- Ding-

The bell attached next to the door rang clearly.

This was normal. If there was a bell, the proper etiquette was to ring it, not pound on the door until it broke.

But lately, some unwelcome visitors to my home had been attacking my innocent door.

An Academy professor who appeared to have lost his entire fortune, a high-ranking official from the Tax Office who picked a fight for no reason before leaving, and even a noble heir from a duke’s family who came with servants and guards, just stared at me silently, then abruptly left.

Compared to them, this visitor was extremely polite.

But when I opened the door, his expression was visibly sour. As if he had lost money on Cordana.

“…Former Royal Order 2nd Standard Bearer, Sir Erick. Is that correct?”

In his hands was some kind of scroll. A scroll with golden rollers, no less.

There was only one place in the Imperial Capital that used such documents. The Imperial Palace. Specifically, it was a document used only for issuing imperial edicts. The person ordering me to show respect was a high-ranking official from the Court.

“…In recognition of your contributions to relief and aid, allowing the Empire’s benevolent rule to reach all corners, we issue this imperial edict, appointing you as a baron.”

A title.

They even gave me the surname Wellesley, arbitrarily named after a village in the Emperor’s direct territory. Of course, they didn’t grant me any actual land.

The edict must have come from the Emperor, but it wasn’t hard to guess who had pulled strings. Probably that man who had beaten me up a few days ago.

This wasn’t the compensation I had expected.

I thought Commander Waynelight would either publicly clear my name or apologize to me directly and push for my appointment as the Baron of the Border Marquis.

With a serious face saying something like, “Even Ramsey would prefer you to go to the Border Marquis rather than himself…!”

‘But a title conferred by imperial edict.’

Naturally, the Imperial Palace generally avoided adding names to the nobility register.

Even when a count’s family requested ennoblement for one of their subordinates, they usually hesitated. Increasing the privileged class wasn’t beneficial for governance.

And now a court noble. Moreover, it wasn’t a title granted with specific duties, but simply elevating me to nobility. And I was the target of jealousy from noble society. I wondered how this was even possible.

But the outcome wasn’t bad. It was actually better.

Even as a baron without territory, a noble was still a noble. And someone powerful enough to push through such an arrangement was backing me.

The moment I finally secured a proper shield. Now I was Baron Wellesley.