Defeated by my younger sister 【Ceres】, called a monster, and thrown out of my house — that’s me, 【Lyle Walt】, sitting at a table with two women.
(I… can’t taste anything.)
A slightly late dinner. Eating it, I dwelled on how things had ended up this way.
From count-house heir, to disowned and stripped of everything.
I’d left my hometown, intending to be an adventurer.
My former fiancée 【Novem Fuchs】 came with me, even after I’d lost everything. Second daughter of a baron house; childhood acquaintance.
A well-made former fiancée. A person I couldn’t look in the eye.
Not because I feared her. Not because she was terrifying.
She’d sold off the household goods she’d been collecting for our marriage. Spent that money on me.
She looked after me in my ignorance of the world.
Kind, and beautiful.
Bright brown hair tied to one side; eating quietly. The spoon touched her pale-pink lips.
Purple eyes on her own cooking. Soup, bread, a piece of cheap meat she’d seared on the table.
“Lord Lyle — not to your taste?”
She’d noticed me watching. A trace of worry.
“N-not at all!”
I went back to eating.
I shifted my gaze to the woman across from Novem.
Red hair down to the back, ends curling slightly. Purple eyes that wouldn’t settle, flicking around.
【Aria Rockward】 — a woman thrown out of her house.
Her reason was different from mine.
Her father had been in league with the bandit gang. The gang that had drifted into Darion had set up at the abandoned mine and slipped a handful of operators into the town.
Her father had helped them.
House Rockward — once a viscount line, a robe-noble house with a proper post.
Aria’s father had collapsed it in a single generation.
He’d even sold off House Rockward’s heirloom.
I’d taken on the bandit subjugation playing the disowned-idiot-heir role, and with the financial support of Darion’s lord, I’d recovered that heirloom.
“Ah, this is good.”
Aria’s voice. Novem looked happy.
She smiled and explained.
“That meat I tenderized and soaked in wine. Glad it suits your taste.”
For the record: I had not helped Aria because I’d fallen for her.
I had absolutely not.
There was a reason she was in our house too.
The bandit collaborator who’d sold off the multi-Skill 【Gem】, Aria’s father, was currently in the lord’s custody.
She’d been put out of her home.
By rights, Aria too had been earmarked for a brothel. But because the line that had circulated was Lyle did it because he fell for Aria—
“I cook worse…”
Aria, slightly down. Novem comforted her.
“I can teach you what I know.”
“P-please.”
— Lord Bentler had foisted her on me.
(That makes me a trash guy!)
Novem was funding my path to a real adventurer and looking after me too.
And here I was, housing another woman because I’d supposedly fallen in love.
I had no such ulterior motive in saving Aria.
I had legitimate reasons.
In this state, I’d confessed to Novem. But the one pushing Aria’s acceptance hadn’t only been Bentler.
Novem too had been on the accepting side.
After my brave confession—
“I’m very happy to hear it. But if Lord Lyle and I are bound now, Aria-san will feel uncomfortable. Once Lord Lyle becomes a full-fledged adventurer, accept us together at that point—”
— she’d said something like that.
(I just succeeded — and we’re back to square one?! And Novem is recommending the harem — I did not see that coming!)
The cause, apparently, had been my own words.
When I’d left home, trying to send Novem back—
“Become an adventurer, build a harem, live easy.”
I’d said something like that.
She’d apparently interpreted: A harem-maintaining adventurer is first-rate. To live easy you have to become a super-first-rate adventurer. So Lord Lyle’s goal is to become a super-first-rate adventurer.
Mistaken.
A girl this perceptive — and on that point alone, she’d somehow misread.
(Showing her I was a deadbeat would discourage her and she’d go home — that’s what I thought. But she came along anyway… and committed, and took my words at face value.)
I’d forgotten saying it. She’d dutifully remembered.
But I have to say it—
There was no ulterior motive.
(See, the Jewel — these people—)
A Jewel was the completed form of a skill-gem.
A Gem was a tool that recorded the unmanifested Skill — one per person max.
Out of fashion now. But this one had absorbed eight Skills and become complete.
Gem to Jewel.
My own as-yet-unidentified Skill, and the seven Skills of the heads of House Walt recorded in the blue Jewel passed down through the family.
But the problem was—
“Aria-chan’s adorable… harassed by her trash dad, thrown out of the house, poor kid.”
A thick voice from the Jewel.
The First — Basil Walt.
“Look in the mirror! A trash dad’s face is staring back at you!”
A voice picking a fight with the First.
The Second — Crassel Walt.
Hunter’s outfit. In House Walt’s narrative, the Second was the plain one.
The First had led the pioneers, founded the village, and become a lord; from there, House Walt as a country-noble line began.
And the Third had succeeded a king’s withdrawal in a foreign war, earning fame as a righteous general.
He’d succeeded in that withdrawal and died on the field. Even now, when the topic comes up, the name Sley Walt is mentioned.
Sandwiched between them, the Second is plain by reputation.
— But the facts differ.
A territory grown without plan, and a First who’d punched out the barbarians into the fold.
An unreliable, breezy son, light reactions to everything.
Sandwiched between the two, the Second had labored to lock in House Walt’s foundation.
Yet he was the unappreciated one. Tragic.
(…The Second is on the First’s case again today.)
When the Jewel formed, the recorded Skills gained personalities.
Those were the memories of the ancestors who’d used them.
When my Skill manifested and the Gem became a Jewel, the ancestors woke up as Skills.
This Jewel, though—
“Lively as always, those two.”
The Third, laughing as he listened.
Their being audible to me meant the Jewel was active.
— Meaning my mana was being consumed.
Without any Skill in use!
(Couldn’t you tone it down even slightly?)
Since Skills had will, the limits on their use were imposed by the Skills.
That was why I’d had to take on Aria’s request — to use a Skill.
Why had I needed to take on Aria’s request?
Because Aria resembled the First’s first love.
The very image of her, in fact.
That had set the bandit subjugation in motion.
The First’s Skill was now available. The others were temporarily usable too.
The Third’s and the Seventh’s Skills, however, remained off-limits.
Reason: my body couldn’t bear them.
(These guys, no question, are not a Jewel. Cursed implement.)
I’d been getting hit with enough of this lately that my opinion was slipping.
◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇
Having accepted Aria, the next requirement was combat power.
So Aria would also be becoming an adventurer.
She’d agreed, saying she’d feel bad just being supported.
But—
“That completes the party registration. Aria-san is now added. Please note that Zelphy’s contract can’t be extended further.”
A dark-skinned, heavily-built Guild employee with red hair shaved bald — Hawkins — addressed us, and Aria looked tense.
He looked imposing, but he was thoughtful and thorough in his work and one of Darion’s most capable staff.
“Y-yes!”
Aria received the Guild card. Zelphy, our instructor, spoke up.
“Don’t be so tense. Going forward, given the position, I’ll drop the Lady honorific during work. That all right with you, Lady Aria?”
Formerly a Rockward retainer, Zelphy was the person we’d hired through the Guild as our instructor.
She’d taught us the basics — what we, ignorant after leaving home, didn’t know.
Marriage imminent. Party disbanded. Currently making a living by training new adventurers through Guild requests.
— That was her public face.
The marriage was real, but she was also a lord-connected adventurer through Bentler.
In Darion, kind to novices, she was also a skilled adventurer.
“Right — three of you now. We need to cover the basics. I’ll teach Lady Ar — Aria — in the Guild meeting room. Lyle and Novem, take an odd-job request today.”
I made a face.
“A-again?”
Novem looked at me, slightly troubled.
She encouraged me.
“Lord Lyle, let’s do our best.”
Zelphy was watching me, smirking.
We’d tricked her employer into funding us, and we’d dragged her along the way — naturally she wanted some revenge.
“Of course. Job’ll wrap by midday. Once it’s done, Lyle, kit yourself out. Your spare sabre is unusable now, right?”
”…Yes.”
In the fight with the boss, I’d ruined my sabre.
He’d had the red Gem — the close-combat Skill recording — so the spare went too.
I’d thought repair might save it; the smith I’d asked told me to just buy new.
“You came into money. Get something decent. Right, Aria comes with me upstairs. Sir, please brief these two on the job.”
She took Aria with her.
Hawkins pulled out the request form.
”…Odd jobs again.”
I drooped. Hawkins consoled me.
“Lyle, don’t be discouraged. Stacking up jobs like this matters. When you change home base, this kind of track record gets evaluated.”
Darion was just a temporary stop.
Once we’d built skill, we’d move our home — base of operations — somewhere else.
“That’s right, Lord Lyle. Steady effort matters too. Let’s do it together.”
Novem smiled.
Hawkins put in:
“Ah — Novem-san is on scrivening at the Guild until noon. Lyle is doing manual labor outside. So separately.”
“Th-that’s — please put me on the manual labor too!”
Novem said it. A voice from the Jewel.
The First through the Fourth had been deeply indebted to the Fuchs family — they favored Novem.
“Manual labor for Novem-chan? Don’t talk nonsense!”
The First. The Second followed.
“Lyle, this is where you show some manhood.”
The Third too—
“Novem-chan is a good girl. Lyle, say something, won’t you?”
The Fourth…
“You’re not letting Novem-chan do manual labor, are you, Lyle?”
Low-voice intimidation.
(…I am done with these people.)
The Fifth onward had no special feeling toward Novem.
From the Fifth’s time, the Fuchs had been one retainer house among many.
“Manual labor for a woman is inefficient.”
The Fifth. The Sixth.
“Indeed. She’d be in the way.”
The Seventh — my grandfather—
“Lyle on manual labor… when he carries royal blood.”
Saddened on my behalf. The grandfather indulgent toward his grandson.
I looked at Novem.
“I-it’s fine. We’ll go shopping together in the afternoon.”
She looked at me, still slightly worried.
“Please don’t overdo it, Lord Lyle. Shall we handle the paperwork?”
The Jewel kept eating my mana, and the surroundings now thought of me as frail.
Novem worried because I kept collapsing.
(…I find this unacceptable.)
I wanted to shout this is not my fault.