Chapter 43: When I Came to My Senses, It Was a Needlessly Glamorous Hell 6

After Cazeros and Polena safely arrived, my conversation with the ‘father’ continued briefly.

It revolved around me having earned some money through ‘personal endeavors’ while working as a Holy Knight.

Finally, he mentioned sharing this joyous news formally with the rest of the family and instructed us to rest with my ‘friends’ for the time being.

Thus concluding our reunion, during which the father had been filled with joy upon seeing me, we were guided to the room I had supposedly used in my childhood.

Kept remarkably tidy, as if it had been maintained even after my ‘departure.’

Having arrived at this location where we could speak more freely, the three of us finally began discussing the rapidly unfolding situation.

“Haha… Even so, to brush everything aside so nonchalantly, you went a bit too far this time, Master.”

“Indeed, you went too far. I was so worried when Santana was taken away…”

“…Haah…”

Their words carried a mixture of relief, as expected, and mild reproach.

In response, I could only heave a deep sigh.

From their perspective, the situation was akin to me keeping up appearances while causing them unnecessary concern, only to reveal belatedly that this was, in fact, my hometown.

Of course, I had been truly unaware, but I could hardly explain that at this point.

Regardless of my prior knowledge, the truth that my existence in this world was Count Turen’s son, who had been posing as a Holy Knight for some unknown reason, had become an undeniable fact.

Acknowledging this, I began offering a somewhat disingenuous explanation in a wistful tone.

“…My apologies for the unintended deception. However, I truly did not expect to reunite with my father here. As I have repeatedly stated, my purpose in coming here was merely to pass through on my way to the Dragonian Empire.”

“But why?… If you have blood relatives here, why go to the Dragonian Empire instead?”

Cazeros voiced her concerns and doubts regarding my words.

In response, I provided her with a plausible excuse I had prepared in advance.

“Although I cannot recall the reason, I had been estranged from my father and family for eleven long years. No matter how dire the circumstances, how could I presume to seek out my father again after all this time?”

“…That is… true, I suppose…”

My words seemed to resonate with Cazeros, prompting her to agree surprisingly readily.

Given her personality, I had expected her to delve further into familial bonds, but for some reason, she appeared to accept my explanation without much protest.

Instead, it was Polena, seated beside her, who addressed this aspect.

“Even so, you are parent and child. Even if it had been a hundred and ten years of estrangement, a parent would always be waiting for their child, would they not?”

Despite her casual demeanor, Polena’s words carried a slightly stern undertone, as if speaking from experience.

She continued, “In such situations, rather than clinging to pride or dignity, it is better to simply approach them and ask for help. You saw it yourself just now, did you not? Count Turen’s tears of joy upon seeing the Master. A parent’s heart is ever constant.”

Polena’s words felt akin to lecturing a runaway youth.

Although I had never actually run away, I acknowledged her point for the time being.

“…Yes. In hindsight… you are likely correct… My apologies.”

“Do not apologize to me, but to your father… and the other family members. They must have suffered greatly in the Master’s absence.”

“I understand. I will keep that in mind.”

For a moment, Polena’s presence exuded a teacher-like aura rather than that of a maid, prompting me to respond with a solemn, composed tone.

“…Haah…”

At that moment, Cazeros heaved a heavy sigh beside me.

While puzzled by her reaction, I did not dwell on it further, instead contemplating the challenges ahead.

‘The most pressing issue I face is preparing for the upcoming war… Although difficult, as a devoted reader of the original work, it is not entirely impossible to secure victory in the initial conflict. This should buy me some time in Bohemia…’

Of course, the subsequent developments would present a far more arduous path, but at least I could gain a temporary reprieve.

‘…However, when I think about it, this is quite an ironic situation. Not long ago, I had intended to swiftly and decisively annihilate Bohemia, yet now I find myself contemplating how to defend it…’

Had I not been excommunicated and continued executing my plans accordingly, I might have inadvertently succeeded Count Turen, an eventuality that prompted a wry smile to form on my lips as I pondered this twisted fate.

At that moment…

-Knock Knock Knock-

“Yes, come in.”

Responding to the sudden knocking, I granted entry, and servants soon appeared.

“The preparations are complete. Lord Santana, please follow us to the inner chamber.”

Instructing Cazeros and Polena to wait, I cautiously rose and trailed the servants towards the inner chamber.

“…Is… Is this truly real? Are these all…?”

“Yes, my Lord. These are the riches Lord Santana has accumulated.”

Sprawled before me were immense sacks, brimming with gold coins inside.

The sum easily surpassed a thousand talents, leaving Count Turen speechless.

Although he was the lord of the vast, fertile, and commercially pivotal Bohemian region, such wealth was still an astronomical amount from an individual perspective, if not necessarily for the regional ruler overseeing tax revenues.

More than the sheer quantity, however, what truly astounded Count Turen was the fact that this fortune had been amassed by his own son.

‘To have become a Holy Knight is already remarkable enough, but to have started from nothing and accumulated such wealth over eleven years? How did this child, once so ignorant of the world’s ways, achieve this…?’

An amount that an ordinary person could scarcely hope to behold in a lifetime… yet his son had casually earned it while also serving as a Holy Knight.

Deeply moved by his son’s astonishing growth, Count Turen felt a surge of paternal pride as he envisioned Santana’s imposing visage, yearning to see him again.

‘He has truly become an entirely different person from his childhood self. His very gaze has transformed from the timid, deferential demeanor of the past.’

In the past, Santana had been an exceedingly meek existence, quietly drifting along with the currents around him, utterly lacking in presence – like the very air itself.

Truthfully, when Turen had first heard of his son running away to become a Holy Knight, he had initially dismissed the notion, losing precious time due to his son’s timid nature.

However, upon reuniting with Santana after eleven years, the Count could find no trace of that former meekness in his eyes.

Instead, they burned with passion and an unyielding will – the very qualities Turen had always yearned for in his son.

‘Despite these trying times, my son’s return is undoubtedly a great blessing. The Lord has not forsaken Bohemia!’

Recalling that steadfast, trustworthy gaze once more, a profound smile of paternal pride graced Count Turen’s lips.