I'm the Crazy One in the Family-Chapter 89: Everyone Makes Mistakes (1)

At the main gate of Sefira’s border fortress, the guards tensed up at the sight of a vagabond carrying a massive sword over his shoulder. He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender and handed a business card to the gatekeeper.

Seeing the name written on the card, the gatekeeper cautiously asked, “What is your relationship with Lord Keter?”

In a polite tone, the vagabond replied, “I am Gyro, a subordinate of Lord Keter. I came because he invited me to Sefira.”

This information was relayed to Jacques, Keter’s personal butler, who met with Gyro to confirm.

“The signature on this card is undoubtedly Lord Keter’s.”

With that, Gyro easily gained entry into Sefira as Keter’s guest. The first day passed uneventfully. Despite his rogue appearance, Gyro spoke gently and displayed impeccable manners.

The incident occurred the very next day.

Though Gyro had seemed fine the day before, he suddenly began convulsing and shouting uncontrollably.

“Graaaah! Aaaargh!”

His voice was filled with ferocity, resembling the roar of a wounded beast. The reason was withdrawal symptoms; they had set in after he stopped consuming the poisonous liquor he had been using to maintain his sanity.

Despite being Keter’s guest, Gyro was an outsider, so guards had been assigned to monitor him at all times. When he began his rampage, the soldiers fired blunt arrows to subdue him.

Whether they aimed to restrain or kill him made no difference—the force behind their arrows couldn’t even penetrate the aura radiating from Gyro’s body.

“Graaaargh!”

Gyro, now basically a wild beast, lifted his massive sword as if it were nothing and brought it crashing down. Though the strike landed on bare ground, the impact was devastating. A crater larger than the greatsword itself formed on the ground, ripping up the grass with the shockwave and shattering the road. Even soldiers stationed at a distance were thrown off their feet and injured.

“What... What kind of power is this?”

Sefira had not underestimated Gyro. It was clear from first glance that he was a former knight, and the way he effortlessly handled his massive sword suggested he was at least a two-star knight. However, the display of power they had just witnessed was on par with a four-star knight.

It quickly became evident that the soldiers alone couldn’t handle Gyro. Consequently, the holy knights were dispatched. When the knights began firing arrows imbued with aura, Gyro finally reacted. He deflected every arrow, swinging his greatsword like a windmill,

Though the knights of Sefira saw their arrows bounce off harmlessly, they didn’t relent. They continued shooting for hours until Gyro finally wore himself out.

Seven hours, sixty-two knights: that was the time and number of knights it took Gyro to grow exhausted and collapse.

“Restrain him!”

Even though Gyro was Keter’s guest, such a rampage couldn’t be ignored. However, they had no choice but to let him be. Just as Gyro was about to lose consciousness, the greatsword he drove into the ground created a barrier around him. This barrier was designed to protect only him, and no matter what the knights of Sefira tried, they couldn’t break through it.

Eventually, Commander Gasilius of the Order of the Galaxy arrived at the scene.

After assessing the situation, he ordered, “Leave him be. Destroying that barrier could put us in even greater danger.”

Gasilius had realized that Gyro’s greatsword wasn’t just massive—it was a Demon Sword. He also understood that the barrier wasn’t meant to protect Gyro himself but to shield Sefira from further damage.

“From what I’ve heard, Gyro actively tried to avoid harming people. There’s property damage, yes, but no casualties. That means he’s still in control of himself.”

“While it’s true no one was hurt, the property damage is catastrophic—on the scale of a massacre.”

“...We’ll just have to send the repair bill to Lord Keter.”

Although they managed to handle the situation for now, no one knew when Keter would return, as officially, Keter was away on a mission.

Meanwhile, Gyro’s rampages continued. He would seem fine one moment, only to lose control again the next.

“Sir Gasilius has been eagerly awaiting your return, Lord Keter. He comes to check every morning, even today,” Jacques said.

Hearing this, Keter nodded in satisfaction.

“Gyro’s doing well, then.”

“We are not doing well, Lord Keter. Please deal with this quickly. Everyone is on edge. I’m worried the good image you’ve worked so hard to build will completely collapse.”

Jacques, endlessly loyal to Keter but strict with everyone else, voiced his concerns.

“Don’t worry about it. Anything else to report?”

“There are quite a few people looking for you. Sir Gasilius is one of them, but Elder Reganon is also desperately seeking you.”

“Oh, right. Before I left, some dude named Gant or something showed up. Did they do anything?”

“Lord Keter, please mind your language. Even if the person isn’t present, politeness is important. Sir Gant only came to check if you were here. He didn’t do anything to me.”

“That’s a shame. If he caused trouble, I would have gone after him right away.”

“Before you address Sir Gasilius or Elder Reganon, I suggest meeting with the patriarch to report anything first.”

“My father is also looking for me?”

Keter found this strange, as his father, Besil, was not the type to demand reports from him. As expected, Jacques shook his head.

“No, this is merely my personal opinion. Right now, you have the patriarch’s attention. I believe it’s a good opportunity to earn his trust and strengthen your standing.”

“So, you’re saying I should go tell my father what I’ve been up to?”

“As a member of Sefira, you ought to. Even if you don’t report directly to the head, you should at least inform Luke, your partner, or me. Everyone from the servants to the knights and even your elder brother Hissop does so. This isn’t about monitoring your every move but wanting to stay informed with good intentions.”

Jacques’s reasoning was sound. Keter understood it as well, but that was Sefira’s business, not his.

“If I feel like talking, I’ll talk.”

“Lord Keter, the responsibility for this house lies with the patriarch, not you. Please consider that...” “If my father doesn’t like it, he will tell me to leave. And when that time comes, even if he begs me to stay, I’ll leave. Don’t worry about it.”

Since it was Jacques, Keter ended the conversation here. If anyone else had spoken to him like this, Keter would have thumped them on the head instead of replying. Knowing this, Jacques refrained from pushing further.

Lord Keter is like the wind—try to bind him, and he’ll leave Sefira entirely. freeweɓnovel.cѳm

Even so, Jacques couldn’t just completely abandon his duties. This was why he felt compelled to use the opportunity to speak his mind, albeit carefully.

“Understood, Lord Keter. Is there anything you need?”

Keter, as if waiting for this question, pulled out a small object from his chest pocket.

“Take care of this little one for me. Her name is Slurpie. She dislikes sunlight and prefers human blood, not animal blood.”

“Excuse me? Lord Keter, the description sounds suspiciously like a vampire...”

Before Jacques could fully process what Keter handed him, Keter leaped out the window.

* * *

Luke, Keter’s partner, was supposed to follow Keter immediately, but since he knew where Keter was headed, he stayed back briefly to speak with Jacques.

“Slurpie is fine. It's probably... a vampire, but it's very obedient and docile,” Luke said.

“Now that I look closer, it's kind of cute,” Jacques replied, stroking Slurpie's back with his fingers.

“I'm sorry, Father. I should have backed you up earlier,” Luke apologized, referring to when Jacques was explaining the unique rules of the Sefira family to Keter.

Jacques shook his head while gently caressing Slurpie, who was calmly laying in his hand.

“No, it’s better that you didn’t intervene. If you had, it might have backfired. I’m fine, so go after him quickly.”

“Keter might seem reckless... Well, he really is, haha, but he is quite trustworthy.”

“I guess a lot of things happened in the Lawless City,” Jacques noted.

“I can say, without a doubt, it was the longest week of my life and the hardest moment of my life. I doubt anyone else would believe it,” Luke replied.

“If you have time, tell me all about it tonight. I’m curious to know more about where Lord Keter grew up,” Jacques suggested.

“Of course, I’ll come by tonight,” Luke promised.

Back in Liqueur, Luke did not have personal conversations with Keter, but he often overheard Keter’s conversation with Daat. It wasn’t intentional; they spent time together frequently, and Keter never seemed to mind.

He only took the portable gear. He’s probably taking it to Master Volkanus.

Like Keter, Luke jumped off the window ledge but was immediately startled.

“Whoa! What?!”

He only slightly bent his knees, but he soared higher than the top of the building. The reduced gravity compared to Liqueur made his body feel incredibly light. Not only that, there was so much oxygen rushing into his nose and mouth that it felt overwhelming, as though his entire body were breathing.

Boom!

Unlike Keter, who landed silently, Luke hit the ground with a resounding crash that shattered the surface.

“Was I always this strong?”

He had just jumped several dozen meters and landed unscathed. It felt as though he had landed on soft bread.

“All that hard work paid off,” he said proudly.

He could feel himself taking bigger strides than before without much effort. He couldn’t help but wonder how fast he could move if he sprinted.

Meanwhile, Keter had already reached the forge.

“This smith is always so hot,” Luke remarked as he entered, spotting Keter.

“Grandpa, do you know what this is?” Keter asked, holding up a small rod.

“You country bumpkin, where did you get that? Hand it over. I want to check if it’s genuine,” Volkanus said.

“Why the rush? Can’t you tell just by looking?” Keter teased, gripping the rod tightly.

With a flash of movement, the rod extended into a full longsword. A blacksmith to his core, Volkanus was unable to hide his excitement.

“Wow, it’s the real deal! A portable weapon! Did you bring it here just to show off?” Volkanus asked.

Luke casually slipped in beside Keter. Volkanus briefly glanced at him, saw it was Luke, then returned his gaze back to Keter.

“We need to apply this portable gear technology to bows and arrows. You know what I mean, right?” Keter suggested.

“Tsk, what nonsense. You bumpkin, do you think it’s that easy? If taking apart a portable gear were all it took to learn its secrets, why do you think only the empire has been able to make them for decades? Once you dismantle them past a certain point, they self-destruct. The scraps are useless for discovering even the smallest hint of the manufacturing process. Just give up,” Volkanus replied.

“Grandpa, don’t give up so easily. I won’t allow it.”

Keter pulled out another rod that was larger and heavier than the first.

“And what’s this?” Volkanus asked.

Instead of answering, Keter demonstrated. Infused with aura, the rod transformed into a two-meter-long sword.

“This... Could it be?!” Volkanus exclaimed.

This weapon wasn’t just another portable weapon—it was one Keter had received after saving the Flying Wolf Tribe in Hacose Village. It was an artifact of ancient metallurgy, a precursor to portable weapons.

Volkanus, usually composed even when faced with rare portable weapons, couldn’t contain his excitement. He leaned in eagerly.

“Give it here, you bumpkin! I have to examine it myself!”

Volkanus, who had lived for centuries, knew the roots of portable gear: the Flying Wolf Tribe’s metallurgy using shape-memory alloy was the key technology.

“And you would like to have it, wouldn’t you? You want to dismantle it piece by piece, figure out how it was made, don’t you?”

“Of course! Hand it over, and I’ll make portable weapons for you—armor, bows, arrows, anything you want!” Volkanus promised eagerly.

“And who would you give them to after making them?” Keter pressed.

“Of course, I'll make yours first,” Volkanus replied confidently.

“And after that?”

“Well... I suppose I'll make one for Besil too. Not that he would need it, but as a keepsake.”

“No, no, that's not how this works,” Keter said, wagging his finger theatrically. “If you come to understand the technology of portable gear, whose contribution will that be thanks to?”

Volkanus frowned, suspecting more nonsense from Keter.

“What are you trying to get at? Sure, it might be thanks to you, but interpreting and applying that knowledge isn’t something just anyone can do.”

“Still, I’m the one providing the means, am I not?” Keter countered.

“Fine, let’s say it’s all thanks to you. What’s your point?” Volkanus replied, starting to lose patience.

“It means it’s mine.”

“Huh?”

Volkanus and even Luke seemed perplexed.

“I mean, all the portable gear you make from this technology belongs to me.”