WSMD 04

Chapter – 04

“You’re raising your daughter too mature for her age.”

It was something that happened a few weeks ago, when Leitan was living in a rural village with Berry.

In a dim room lit by a flickering candle, Marshal—who was a half-breed between a human and another race—closed the lid of a medicine bottle as he spoke.

Berry, whose fever had just gone down, was asleep on the bed, and Leitan sat beside her holding her small hand and watching her quietly.

“If a kid has a 40-degree fever, they usually can’t even recognize what’s in front of them. Even if she cried her eyes out from the pain, it wouldn’t be strange. But what kind of seven-year-old smiles and says she’s fine? That tiny thing hates making her dad worry more than anything.”

“…Marshal, what illness does Berry have? She suffers from high fevers almost every month. That’s not something you can just explain away as a weak constitution.”

“If I knew, I would’ve told you already. There are no warning symptoms, no cause. I’ve been an apothecary my whole life and I’ve never heard of anything like this. Maybe that sword you left behind at the temple put some kind of curse on her?”

“Windis is not that kind of sword.”

Marshal stared at Leitan through his glasses.

Funny how fate works.

Who would’ve thought he’d end up putting up with the guy who once threatened an old herb gatherer with a sword just to get some water—for six whole years?

His dry, cracked lips. His eyes full of the will to live. The crying of a newborn baby he hadn’t even realized he was carrying at the time…

They say you grow more soft-hearted with age.

He had only meant to feed him for a few days out of pity, but Leitan ended up settling down in the village.

He said he liked how isolated it was from the outside world.

Still, even a remote village couldn’t completely shut out news from beyond.

“The Count of Travel has put a bounty on you.”

“…I saw it at the market today.”

“Sounds like the rumors about him having more money than the Emperor are true. The amount is enough to make your eyes roll back. Someone’s probably already reported you.”

“Did you report me too, Marshal?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. If I sold you out for money, I’d try to squeeze ten times more out of you first. I’ve never seen anyone who hates losing money as much as you do. I’m pretty ruthless myself, but you’re worse.”

A guy like that being called a financial liability… it was so absurd he couldn’t even laugh.

A man so thorough he could even fabricate the reputation the Travel family wanted.

Yet Marshal couldn’t hate Leitan, because he knew the man was desperately clinging to the one thing he wanted to protect.

Marshal’s gaze shifted to the bedside table.

“You know this already, but you’ll be on the run until that bounty is lifted. And Berry will be hunted too, just because she’s your daughter.”

There was a worn book there, its pages frayed from being handled so often.

Leitan’s favorite book.

<How to Raise Your Child Well Even on Your Own>.

Marshal spoke toward Leitan’s silent, broad back.

“A wandering life isn’t good for a child.”

Night again.

Leitan walked down the silent corridor, thinking.

The last time he had visited the main mansion, it had also been at night.

The best time to meet the Count while avoiding the eyes of the direct family members.

Callet, who was walking ahead of him, remained quiet.

The childhood friend he hadn’t seen in six years had become the Count of Travel’s aide. Leitan kept his guard up, trying to make up for the lost time.

Who was still on his side?

Who he could keep close.

Who he needed to watch.

Even if he would soon leave this place again, letting his guard down was not an option.

“The Count is in his study.”

Callet stopped in front of a closed door.

Not even a sliver of light leaked out—as if the loyal door refused to let anything about its master escape outside.

As if it had been arranged beforehand, Callet knocked twice and opened the door.

Instead of a bright ceiling light, a soft glow illuminated the room.

“You idiot.”

Just as Leitan stepped inside, a sharp voice burst from the man sitting at the desk.

A massive old man with golden-tinted white hair.

Laksek Iron Travel.

The man who had raised the Travel County to its greatest height in history.

“What kind of fool gives up the position of Grand Master just to raise a child? How do you expect to survive if you can’t even calculate profit and loss?”

Laksek spoke toward his son with clear displeasure etched into the wrinkles between his brows.

His authority was immense.

With a word, he could move mountains and split seas.

Within the Heyshal Empire, his influence was second only to the Emperor and the High Pontiff.

There was nothing he couldn’t get his way with.

Except for one person.

“I’ve been living just fine.”

Leitan stopped at the edge of the carpet and replied crookedly.

The bounty his father had placed on his head a month ago.

Because of it, he had to abandon his life—and almost turned his daughter into a fugitive too.

Of course his mood was bad.

“Seems you haven’t been doing as well, Count. Why put a bounty on someone you’ve already cut ties with? Has your memory declined since I last saw you?”

“Is that how you talk to your father after six years? Tsk. How did I end up with a son like you? If your dead mother saw you now, she’d cry.”

“Well, would it be more than the tears she shed while she was alive? You should’ve treated her better when she was being looked down on as your second wife.”

“Y-you little…!”

The Count kicked back his chair and pointed angrily at Leitan.

Even facing the furious golden eyes of the family head, Leitan didn’t even change his breathing.

If it had been his other children, they would already be kneeling with trembling legs, begging forgiveness.

Then again, there probably wasn’t anyone besides Leitan crazy enough to deliberately provoke the Count to his face.

The young master troublemaker has returned.

Callet, the Count’s aide, silently observed from the doorway.

He wasn’t someone who showed much emotion.

So it didn’t show, but truthfully, he had gotten goosebumps several times over the past few days watching Leitan act like a father.

Who was Leitan Quartz Travel?

A man whose nicknames included things like Blood Madman and Reaper of Death—someone who lived drenched in blood on battlefields.

He always seemed relaxed, yet had no openings.

Seemed carefree, yet was always sharp.

And on top of that, his exceptional swordsmanship and the title of one chosen by the Holy Sword.

Among knights, Leitan was someone they wouldn’t dare even speak casually to.

That was the Leitan Callet remembered, but…

“Oh! Uncle Callet is Daddy’s friend? Do you want some cookies?”

“Berry, you should say would you like some?”

“Ohh. Would you wike some?”

“Thank you, Lady Berry.”

“What about Daddy’s?”

“Uh… that was the last one…”

“I… see. There’s none for Daddy. There are some for the man we just met today though…”

“Oh dear, don’t be sad. Next time you have snacks you can ask Daddy first!”

“First priority.”

“Yes, first priority!”

Calling him “mister” instead of uncle was one thing, but Leitan looking sulky because he lost priority…

Callet had seen similar unbelievable scenes several times during their carriage trip from the countryside.

Time really was frightening.

Goosebumps rose on Callet’s arm as he stood expressionless.

Meanwhile, the tense standoff between father and son continued.

Leitan asked:

“Why did you put a bounty on me?”

He had come to the Travel estate to settle things.

The public story—that the Count missed his son—was complete nonsense.

“I doubt my life is worth a billion kona to you. Since I came here myself, does that mean I get to claim the bounty?”

“Why would you get it? Do you know how much money I spent raising you? Pay me back first, you brat.”

“Did you pay your father back, Count?”

Bang!

The Count slammed his massive fist onto the desk, making even the floor tremble.

It was late at night.

Even with the study’s soundproofing, that vibration might have reached the ceiling below.

Callet quickly intervened.

“Lord, if this commotion continues, the Madam sleeping downstairs may wake up.”

“…Right. Anyway, you insolent brat who always talks back.”

There was a reason he had secretly called Leitan at night to avoid the other direct family members.

Possibly something big enough to greatly influence the upcoming annex succession competition.

Leitan had already guessed.

“Well, we can talk about the bounty later. What kind of matter benefits the family enough that you had to call me back?”

At the question, the Count groaned and sat back down, pressing his aching temple.

“The Church is causing trouble.”

The High Pontiff.

If not for that man, he wouldn’t have had to go through all this just to find his son.

“The strange Holy Sword you abandoned refuses to choose its next master.”