361: Chapter 333: Hotown, Friends and the Future (3/3) 361: Chapter 333: Hotown, Friends and the Future (3/3) As a child, the boy was always left at ho in the Imperial Capital, cared for by his grandmother, while his mother followed his father to the front lines, not to return for a long ti.
What exactly his father was doing, the boy did not know, nor did he understand, but every ti his father returned, he was covered in scars, so severely injured that he needed professional doctors and Sublimators to save him.
And his mother was always by his side, sotis injured herself, sotis even more seriously than his father.
As a child, he could never understand; he would cry, he would beg his parents not to leave him behind, not rembering what the ‘holand’ his father always ntioned actually was.
He only knew that every ti his father tried to reclaim their holand, he would draw closer to death.
They would draw closer to a permanent farewell.
“Ailes, my child…
For you, born in the Imperial Capital, the Grant Territory north of Deep Yarn Port is a strange term, but for , for your mother, it is our childhood, it is the land of our birth, our fortress and our people once lived there.”
“Your grandfather, Great-grandfather, and many more ancestors are buried there…
We failed once, running away in disgrace, but one failure does not an we always fail, one day we will succeed and take back our holand!”
Before leaving, the man left these words; he did not expect his child to understand, he was just reaffirming his own determination to himself.
Holand, what is a holand?
The young Ailes did not understand the term, he did not know what Grant Territory looked like, what the wind there slled like, whether the water was sweet, whether the people’s songs were as lodious and gentle as those his grandmother humd.
That place was not his holand.
So what about the Imperial Capital?
The city where he was born and familiar with, he knew every street, the sll of the air, he even had his own friends and mories.
But that apparently wasn’t his holand either.
His grandmother was a strict old woman, who, every ti his parents left for the front, would train the boy strictly—she would not speak of noble glory, nor did she require the boy to always keep in mind the retaking of their holand.
The old lady had only one demand, and that was to make the boy as strong as possible.
“One day, we will all leave.
By then, you will surely have the Wisdom, have your own friends and loved ones.
Ailes…
Even if you don’t pursue what your parents want to reclaim, just to protect what you have, you must beco strong.”
“Humans’ society has morality, interests, rules—but humans are also beasts, and beasts compare their strengths at all tis.”
So when it was festival ti, when other noble families, even civilian families in the Imperial Capital, would have a joyful reunion, laughing and playing together, the boy could only stay in the family’s training grounds, exercising day after day under the old woman’s guidance.
The boy’s talent was not great; he was no genius, unable to quickly understand and master swordplay; nor could he smoothly channel Origin Quality, effortlessly condensing Primordial Seeds to build an Origin Essence Cycle within his body.
But he could do it, through hard training, through perseverance, through determination.
Each ti after grueling training, when he was nearly faint with dizziness, the grandmother would hold the boy in her arms, softly singing a gentle song that ca from the northern lands, a folk ballad from the borders of The Empire.
A song about people going to a foreign land, pioneering territories, establishing hos, and getting married to their beloved.
However, the boy rarely heard the song to its end because he would always fall deeply asleep halfway through.
He thought he could accept such days, which were very happy despite the hard work, filled with anticipation for the arrival of a new day.
But that day finally ca, the grandmother, in her twilight years, beca so frail that she could no longer move on her own, bedridden, and for this, the parents who had always been fighting on the northern frontlines also returned to the Imperial Capital unusually early.
The grandmother passed away peacefully, only insisting that her father promise to let the boy have the right to choose for himself.
At the burial, the mother held the boy, her tears more abundant than his, but this did not an the boy was not sad.
He was just pondering one question.
—In his future, would there be such a place, a person, or a thing that would allow him to face death as calmly as his grandmother did?
—Or, like his father and mother, even if it ant leaving his child behind, in perilous situations, to move forward unshakeably?
The parents did not leave the Imperial Capital imdiately; they arranged for the boy to enter the Imperial Academy and he was knighted by Emperor Inaga II.
Although the fortress on the frontlines had yet to be recaptured, their bravery and loyalty had been recognized.
However, after the knighting, the mother argued with the father, their disputes concerning ‘giving up’ and ‘new objectives,’ about ‘sacrifices’ and ‘honor’.
“It was you who spoke of our holand, and you who are giving it up; you who fought fearlessly, and now you who fear death and cower—Harrison, what on earth are you thinking?!”
“There are priorities and urgencies in everything, there is no possibility of retaking our holand in the next thirty years, The Empire’s focus is not on the north, relying solely on our own strength, it is impossible to return to our native land…
but His Majesty has given us an opportunity.
“As long as we can develop a Southern Sea port at South Ridge and build an exploration base there, when the Emperor eventually clears Deep Yarn Port and lands to the north, we’ll have made our contribution and can return ho with honors,”
Ailes didn’t understand his parents’ conversation.
He only knew that they were about to leave again, headed for a new battlefield.
“Don’t hate , my child.”
His father’s scarred face, the rough hands, and the prickly stubble made it impossible to hate him, and his mother’s tender embrace made such emotions unfathomable for the boy.
Even now, Viscount Grant had never once hated his parents—even though they had scarcely been with him during his childhood, and even though they had died one after another without leaving him any ti to prepare.
Even in death, they were nothing but troublemakers who failed at everything.
But it didn’t matter.
Because he understood.
Because he had found it.
The place, the people.
He had found that which allowed him to face death with equanimity, that which gave him unwavering purpose through perils.
He had found his ho, had his own love and children, his ambitions, and a future full of expectations.
All here at Harrison Port.
—So what about you, Patrick, my friend?
Years later, the boy had grown into a man, even on the cusp of fatherhood himself.
The expressionless middle-aged noble input the inscription cipher that only he and his closest friend knew, the secret agreed upon in their youth.
He opened up that small box laid before him.
The box that was sent after death, as if Patrick, who knew his own end, and who needn’t have said anything, insisted on leaving his friend one final explanation.
“Let’s see what you really wanted to say to .”
—Let’s see, you who had the enviable chance to live a peaceful life, who had the honor and wealth I sought all my life but never obtained, what exactly it was that made you lose your life in this backwater place.
Mumbling softly, Ailes Grant read the densely written letter.
“[My friend Ailes Grant, if you are reading this letter, I am already dead.
Perhaps it was even by your hand, but that does not matter, for I am already dead, so much of what I say cos without apprehension]”
“[It’s just that I worry about you, my friend.
From the beginning, I never intended to drag you into this maelstrom, and so did not partner with you in my plan.
Accidents piled on one after another, and now that you have received this letter, it seems my premonition was right.
I may have been soft-hearted or underestimated my opponent, or perhaps t a formidable enemy like you, leading to my death]”
“[These are but minor details; in any case, I need to tell you so things that you need to know]”
“[This ti, my target was my nephew, Yisen Gard Erlen, a child I regarded as my own.
He really is a good kid, with empathy and true courage that many of us lack, but due to so royal reasons, he must die]”
“[You can think of the reason as sothing dangerous like a struggle for inheritance.
It was a decision made with my elder brother, and you best not delve deeper, just take it as a succession struggle]”
“[Perhaps, rely cutting off his potential and leaving him at the First Energy Level for life could have been a solution.
Honestly, that idea is rather distasteful.
As I wrote this, I thought of Origin Dew, Afrina has a whole bottle.
She could revive Yisen from ten wrong paths, so that plan would never succeed, he has to die nonetheless]”
“[As for that, I must say your Appraiser is quite extraordinary.
Where did you find such a genius?
That is Master Bavoor’s masterpiece!
You can’t manage him, you better let him go sooner.
You’re delaying both him and yourself, not to ntion getting in my way]”
“[I will attempt to kill him, though I am unsure of success.
Consider it my favor to you, to eliminate a future threat.
He gives a greater sense of danger than even my elder brother used to, my judgnt on geniuses like him is usually spot on, and he’s definitely not soone of your caliber can handle—no offense, but if you were that capable, you’d already be at the Third Energy Level]”
“[You might not be willing, so I offer my apologies in advance]”
“[Ailes, I know you must be wondering, why would I ddle in this?
I never even bothered competing for the position of family head, much less get involved in the troubles of the royal family.
Funny enough, I had no intentions of interfering at the beginning, but everything has its price]”
“[You’re surely familiar with the na Klar Eren, Brother Veld and Ely’s child, and the legitimate eldest son of the family]”
“[He is my child]”
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