Chapter 221

Chapter 221 – How Many Tasks Have Been Handled? (3)

The envoy who arrived at the Northern Fortress was none other than Baron Andy Shear, who had previously overseen the transportation of Ferdium’s relief supplies.

He greeted them with a beaming smile.

“Have you been well? I am here to deliver a royal proclamation.”

Zwalter, wearing a slightly uneasy expression, nodded and asked,

“That... what is it this time? Why does the royal family want to see me...?”

Every time someone came seeking him, he worried whether his son had caused some kind of trouble again. These days, his nerves were on edge, worsened by the recent news of war.

Noticing Zwalter’s unease, Baron Shear continued to smile warmly and said,

“From today onward, you have been elevated to the rank of marquis. My congratulations!”

Zwalter, struck by the unexpected news, replied with a dazed expression.

“Marquis? Me?”

“Yes, indeed. Of course, the authority and duties to defend the borders will remain the same as before.”

“But why... all of a sudden...?”

He hadn’t accomplished any remarkable feats, so being elevated to marquis was baffling. Naturally, he couldn’t help but question it.

Baron Shear briefly explained the reasoning. The official justification was to reward Zwalter for his years of dedicated service, but Zwalter could clearly understand the real reason—his son had paved the way for this advancement.

“So... Ghislain has... become a count?”

“Yes, that is correct. He is now Count Fenris.”

Zwalter felt dizzy. That troublemaker was now a proud high-ranking noble. Even though a royal envoy was delivering the news, it still felt unbelievable.

Considering the poor state of Ferdium, he hadn’t been able to provide proper support to his son. Yet, Ghislain had achieved all of this through his own efforts. As a father, he couldn’t help but feel both amazed and proud.

Still somewhat dazed, Zwalter went through the motions of a simple elevation ceremony. Even after receiving official recognition from the royal family, the reality still didn’t quite sink in.

“A marquis...? Really? Me? Our family?”

For decades, he had lived as a poor count of the northern region, as had his ancestors. Yet now, the world seems to be changing too quickly.

Even if it was only a nominal title of marquis, it was still a significant honor. Such achievements, accumulated one by one, would eventually bolster their prestige.

Zwalter’s thoughts turned to his late father, a nagging old man who had passed away long ago.

“Father, it seems my son might truly bring glory to our family.”

As Zwalter stood there, still dazed and overwhelmed, Randolph, the knight commander, raised his voice enthusiastically from the side.

“From now on, you are Marquis Ferdium!”

“Waahhhhh!”

The knights and soldiers roared with cheers loud enough to shake the fortress.

To them, it felt as if their lord, who had endured so much hardship to protect the land and its people, had finally received the recognition he deserved. They celebrated as though it was their own achievement.

Joyful news has come in waves lately. The estate’s debts were paid off, and their lord had been elevated to marquis.

Everyone knew exactly who was responsible for making all of this possible.

One knight raised his sword high and shouted.

“For the glory of House Ferdium!”

The other knights also drew their swords and raised them high. The soldiers, holding their spears aloft, shouted in unison.

“For the glory of House Ferdium!”

Thus, the Northern Fortress was swept up in a festive atmosphere. Soon, the news would reach the Ferdium estate, and they too would join in the celebration.

A day like this couldn’t simply pass unnoticed. Snapping out of his daze, Zwalter spoke with a voice brimming with confidence.

“Today, we’ll leave only the minimum guard on duty and enjoy a feast for the first time in ages! I’ll break out the reserved meat and plenty of ale—eat and drink to your heart’s content!”

“Waahhhhh!”

The soldiers cheered again, and the knights raised their voices even louder.

After countless days of rigorous training and battle, everyone felt physically drained. A hearty feast of meat and ale was just what they needed to rejuvenate themselves.

As everyone erupted in jubilation, an administrator hurried over to Zwalter and whispered urgently.

“My lord, we have no meat.”

“What? Why? What do you mean we have no meat?”

“We ran out long ago. You know how scarce meat has become due to the recent drought.”

“...Ah, right? I thought we still had a little left.”

“Sir Randolph secretly ate what was left whenever he had the chance. He said eating only bread left him constantly hungry. Oh, and he nearly finished off the ale too.”

“That bastard?”

Zwalter shot a sharp glare at Randolph, who, completely oblivious, waved back with a bright smile.

Holding back the urge to pummel him, Zwalter turned to the others and apologized in a regretful tone.

“It seems we’re out of meat! Someone secretly devoured it all—no, never mind that. Today, we’ll make do with bread and soup, and I promise I’ll secure some meat next time!”

“Aww...”

So why did he feel so uneasy?

‘If I leave... others will have to bear the burden.’

The same thought had held him back before. He knew just how critical his role in this estate was.

‘But how long must I keep doing this? Haven’t I... done enough?’

No other priest would have worked this hard, helping so many people under such difficult circumstances. If anyone understood this, it was him—a man who had lived within the church since childhood.

Surely, he had done his part. He couldn’t live his entire life like this. He had his own life to lead, didn’t he?

If he stayed out of pity or sympathy, it would never end.

His heart remained troubled. Before his attachment deepened further and caused him even more pain... it seemed better to end it here.

Piote opened his mouth, his voice trembling.

“Thank you... for everything....”

His throat tightened, and the words wouldn’t come out properly. As he struggled to continue, his tear-filled eyes recalling his gratitude, the verses he had read daily since childhood sprang to his mind.

[To help those who are struggling and suffering is to serve God.]

[You shall become the least of all and serve others.]

[Thus shall you forever follow the path of mercy, truth, and righteousness.]

‘Ah...’

Faces of the people he had helped filled Piote’s mind.

The starving, the sick, the despairing. When he had first come here, it seemed like everyone in the Cabaldi estate was in such a state.

But what about now?

No one starved anymore. The sick were fewer in number. Smiles had started to appear on the faces of those who once seemed hopeless.

The lord standing before him, his retainers, and everyone else had joined forces to transform the estate.

‘Even if what they did wasn’t entirely out of goodwill for the people.’

The Ghislain that Piote had observed was someone who would use any means necessary to achieve his goals.

He was a man who defied simple definitions of good and evil, someone closer to chaos itself.

Yet, his actions ultimately benefitted the people. And for that to continue, Piote’s strength was still essential.

‘Ah... so I didn’t even understand my own heart.’

At last, Piote realized the truth about his feelings. The discomfort he had felt when he tried to leave—now, he understood its origin.

Taking a deep breath, Piote suddenly smiled and spoke.

“I feel at peace now.”

“Huh?”

“I’ve realized why my heart felt uneasy.”

Ghislain tilted his head in confusion. Wasn’t it because Piote couldn’t go back home?

Still smiling gently, Piote continued.

“I was worried about when the church might come looking for me or summon me back. I didn’t realize it, but I was only uncomfortable because of that. Seeing this has made me understand my true feelings.”

“Your... true feelings?”

Piote nodded firmly.

“Yes. I want to stay here. I want to remain here and help those who are struggling and in need. And in the future, I want to help even more people. That is what it truly means to fulfill the will of the Goddess, and I believe that’s why the Goddess granted me divine power.”

“......”

Ghislain looked slightly startled.

He had always thought Piote was staying out of sheer obligation, unable to abandon those in need. But now, it seemed he genuinely wanted to remain for the people’s sake.

This kind of priest was rare, even in his past life. Still uncertain, Ghislain asked again.

“Are you sure about this? You’ve experienced how difficult it is to live in this estate. It’s grueling work, and you’ve collapsed more than once, nosebleeds and all. Helping people isn’t easy.”

“In the temple, I lived without understanding anything. I didn’t realize how much pain and hardship people outside were going through. I want to ease their suffering, even if only a little.”

“If you go back, you can live like other priests, in clean surroundings, eating good food, and living comfortably for the rest of your life.”

Piote gave a bitter smile and shook his head.

“I don’t want to live only for a few nobles anymore. That’s not the will of the Goddess.”

“You’re saying you’d give up that comfort just because you don’t want to?”

It was hard to believe this was coming from a priest of this era. If Claude heard this, he’d probably kick Piote and ask if he had gone mad.

But Piote clasped his hands together as if in prayer, closed his eyes, and spoke sincerely, conveying his true intent.

“Yes. I serve the highest power but live for those in the lowest places.”

At that moment, it was as if Piote had reached some enlightenment. A faint divine aura began to radiate from his body.

Strands of his pink hair gradually turned a silvery hue.

Ghislain was at a loss for words. The Piote before him was unlike Porisco or any other priest he had encountered. It felt as though Piote was an entirely different kind of being.

A true Holy One was being born here.