Lord System: Reborn As The Genius Heir To A Noble Family-Chapter 56: A Regrettable Loss

Leon entered the room within the servants quarter belonging to the elder butler, finding Thorgul laid in bed with plentiful bandages wrapped around his abdomen. Beside the bed, the witch stood, sorting a variety of remedies from concoctions to foreign plants.

"How’s he?" Leon asked quietly, walking over to find the butler asleep.

Beatrice looked down at the slumbering man, "I gave him Moon Milk to give him painless dreams for the time being. I managed to stabilize him, but he was in rough shape. He’ll live, but it goes without saying he won’t be fighting for the near future."

"Yeah, that’s a given," Leon nodded in agreement, sitting down in the chair against the wall.

Within the room of the senior-most employee of the mansion, along with books, the shelves housed plants that were taken care of with great delicacy by the butler. It was a spotless abode for the old man, a perfect encapsulation of who he was.

"When I think back on it, Thorgul has been there since the moment I was born. He’s like...well, a grandpa to me," Leon recalled, leaning in the chair. "I’d say the old guy should consider retirement, but I’m sure he’d never agree to something like that."

Beatrice mixed liquids from her assortment of vials, combining a bright-green substance with a pink one as the unison created a puff of smoke that smelled like that candy. As she performed her mixing, the witch spoke, "You do know of Thorgul’s past, yes?"

"Well, I know he used to be a knight for the Valiant Empire, right? Similar to Charlemagne," Leon tried to recall what he knew, looking towards the tall plant that sat by the door.

"Not quite the same as Sir Charlemagne. Thorgul was a knight, but certainly not a Paladin. The duties he performed were...less ceremonious," Beatrice told. "He was a member of the Hounds–a small squad of knights made to handle the dirty work of the Crown."

"Never heard of them."

"That’s because any record of their existence was burned. The deeds they did...I won’t speak of them, but I’m sure it’s something that Thorgul has carried with him," Beatrice explained. "I’m sure he sees his service to the Schoeller as a way to atone for his past."

"Yeah, probably," Leon agreed, looking at the slumbering elder.

"So, I say let the old man work if he wishes. I know you mean well, but a life of peace and quiet is likely a "death" for Thorgul. It’s this way of life that he knows," Beatrice said, placing a cork in one of the vials and shaking it up.

"I just don’t want anybody else to die on my watch," Leon tiredly admitted, running his fingers through his hair.

The sight of those siblings was burned into his mind, along with the twisted fate of Jon–it weighed heavy on his shoulders.

Placing a bristle into the freshly-made, pink-and-green potion, Beatrice let it settle as she responded to the lord’s guilt, "It may be callous of me to say this, but these sort of things are expected. To believe that every person would survive the Nebula Eclipse is a faraway dream, though you’ve done a fine job in mitigating those losses."

"It doesn’t feel like it. If only we noticed that Jon was marked–" Leon lamented, resting his face in his hands. "Those kids..."

"From what I gathered, you needn’t beat yourself up over that. It seems that Jon was a special host for the ghoul’s mark," the witch assured, twirling her azure hair around her finger. "A perfect, one-in-a-thousand host, to be exact. When that kind of person comes into contact with the mark, it isn’t visible, as the body doesn’t reject it."

"Does that matter? People still died."

"If you’re going to hold every lost life on your shoulders, you’ll be crushed beneath a mountain in your lifetime," Beatrice warned softly, setting her materials into a black pouch that she tucked into her dress, setting towards the door. "It is good that you feel this way, though. This sort of pain for the common folk...Some lords lack it entirely. You’ll make a fine lord."

As the witch took her leave with those words, he sat there in the silence of the room, only accompanied by the light breathing of the resting butler. Spending some time sitting there, he took his leave, quietly closing the door behind him as he stepped into the neatly-kept hall.

Right by the door, he found Charlemagne leaning against the oak wall, who looked up at him as if having been standing there for quite a bit. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

"How long have you been waiting?" Leon asked.

"Just a few minutes," Charlemagne smiled, moving over to walk with the lord. "Sorry I wasn’t there earlier. I was outside with the children–"

"You don’t have to apologize for anything. It wasn’t something anybody could predict. Looking after the kids was the right choice," Leon assured the Paladin, knowing full well the sort of guilt that may rest on the heart of one aligned with such heroism.

"Listen, Leon...I have something I have to tell," Charlemagne said, coming to a stop in the hall.

Leon turned to look at him, "What is it?"

It was rare to see an expression wrought with guilt on the Paladin’s face, though it couldn’t be the same topic. He watched as Charlemagne reached beneath his breastplate, pulling out a necklace with a golden insignia bearing the resemblance to a lion on it.

It hummed, producing a sound as well as a blinking light as though it were sending a message to its wearer.

"What’s that?" Leon asked.

"It’s my contract to the Divine. More specifically, it’s my binding to the Order of Paladins," Charlemagne explained, clutching the insignia. "I am being summoned to the capital. It’s not something I can ignore, nor do I plan to. If I’m being called on, it means there is something threatening the city."

It was a knife to the heart in the most vulnerable of times, though he knew protesting it would only be disrespectful to the man who taught him.

Leon slowly exhaled, nodding his head, "I understand. Don’t worry about us—we’ll manage."

"I’m truly sorry, Leon...I don’t wish for this—" Charlemagne lamented.

"It’s alright. You’ve got your duty as a Paladin. It’s my duty to protect this land, so I’ll do my part," Leon said.

"I wish you the best of luck, then. You’ll make it through this–I know it," Charlemagne bid his farewell.

"You too."

Just like that, as the Paladin took a knee, the golden light emanated from his insignia, engulfing the figure before a flash of divine illumination left no sight of the swordsman remaining. As the presence of the Paladin was truly gone, the affirmative expression he held softened as he continued on his way down the hall.

’Without Charlemagne, we’ve practically lost half of our fighting power. It hurts, but gotta make do,’ he thought.