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After clearing his throat, Zwalter spoke again.

“The weather is nice.”

“Yes.”

“The weather is really nice.”

“Yes, it really is.”

Ghislain, shaking off the serious atmosphere, replied indifferently.

An awkward silence began to fill the room.

Zwalter, who had been staring endlessly out the window, suddenly started to mutter to himself.

“It’s been quite some time since one side of the northern fortress collapsed. They say it’ll cost about 5,000 gold to repair it. …No, forget it. I’m just rambling nonsense…”

“……”

When Ghislain said nothing, Zwalter sighed deeply, even closing his eyes in frustration.

“Sigh… Where could we possibly find 5,000 gold in this situation? We’ll soon have to march out to fend off the barbarians. Tsk tsk, it’s all due to my lack of virtue. Yes, it’s my fault. Who would’ve thought the estate would be this low on funds?”

Ghislain looked at his father with a dumbfounded expression.

Although it wasn’t as blatant as Albert or Randolph, it is evident to anyone that Zwalter was hinting for money.

Suddenly, a memory of something his mother said when he was young resurfaced.

— “Your father worries a lot, so he always broods alone. Especially when it comes to money, he can never be direct about it. Something about a man’s pride? He’d beat around the bush, and if I pretended not to notice, he’d sulk and grumble all by himself. Isn’t that funny?”

‘Wow, I never thought it would actually be true. But here it is.’

While Ghislain was too baffled to say anything, Zwalter bit his lip and grumbled internally.

‘Good grief, I’ve gone this far—can’t he just get the hint and slip me something? He’s exactly like his mother in this. How could he only inherited this trait?’

Even so, the Countess used to miraculously find a way to slip him some money without anyone knowing.

Recalling the past, Zwalter continued to murmur to himself.

“Sigh… If only someone would make a donation for the estate… You know, something like a development fund.”

“……”

It seemed like a love for development funds ran in the family.

Ghislain pondered for a moment, wondering what he should do.

It felt like his father would continue sighing and holding onto him until he offered some money.

‘Well, it wouldn’t hurt to spend a little for something like the northern fortress. I was planning to reinforce it anyway.’

Although Ghislain intended to pacify the northern regions in the future, his father needed to manage things for now.

He had already considered providing some support, so covering the repair costs seemed reasonable.

“I’ll send 5,000 gold once I sell the runestones this time.”

As soon as Ghislain spoke decisively, Zwalter flinched for a moment but soon shook his head.

“No, no. Didn’t you say you had plans, too? There’s no need to delay your plans for some ‘important matter for the estate.’”

“It’s fine. I genuinely want to support you first, so there’s no problem.”

“I’m fine too. The northern fortress has held out well so far anyway…”

“That doesn’t seem okay.”

“Ahem, I told you I’m fine.”

“Ah, I’ll just give it to you. Please, just take it.”

“…Shall I, then?”

Zwalter nodded and turned to look out the window again.

He pretended to stay silent because showing excitement too quickly would hurt his pride.

“Well, if you’re so eager to give it to me, I won’t stop you. Thanks to you, I can finally refurbish the Northern Fortress. Thank you. Hahaha.”

“Well, then, I’m busy with work, so I’ll take my leave.”

“Oh, yes. I can’t keep a busy person here for too long. Go ahead and take care of your business. Don’t stray too far.”

Zwalter felt immensely pleased. He felt proud that he had raised his son well.

‘Next time, I’ll just ask for it directly. He hands it over pretty easily, doesn’t he? Ah, he’s surprisingly like his mother in this regard.’

Leaving his contented father behind, Ghislain walked out of the office, sighing deeply.

“Whew, this is even more exhausting.”

Dealing with people was far more tiring than fighting in the Forest of Beasts.

It felt like his mana was being drained even when he was just standing still.

“I need to get on with my next task right away.”

Staying in the estate meant endless interruptions, so it was better to keep moving quickly.

* * *

The Chief Overseer of the estate, Homerne, was taking a different approach compared to the other retainers.

‘Hmph, does anyone think I’ve been observing the Young Lord for just a day or two? He’s not someone who’d give up money just because you beg for it.’

Ghislain had said he would use the funds for the estate, but no one knew how he would actually spend it.

Homerne, who had weathered many storms in this financially strained estate, had no intention of blindly trusting those sweet words.

He planned to secure and manage the money himself, no matter what.

‘No matter how I think about it, the Young Lord doesn’t have many places to spend that money.’

Even if he wanted to grow his forces, Runestones weren’t something you could buy with mere pocket change. Even if the estate were to gather and train soldiers, there would still be plenty of money left over.

Besides, he hadn’t even begun recruiting soldiers yet, so only the wages for the mercenaries and laborers participating in the frontier development would be leaving the coffers.

If he wasted the money on frivolous luxuries, the losses would be unbearable.

In fact, it wasn’t only Ghislain that Homerne couldn’t fully trust.

“I need to extract as much as possible before Albert and Randolph get their hands on it.”

Those two would undoubtedly try to allocate the funds to what they believed was most important.

Not that their opinions were wrong. Their priorities were undoubtedly valid.

But unlike them, who only focused on their respective duties, Homerne, who oversaw the entire estate, had far more pressing matters to consider.

He needed to stockpile food, repair the castle walls, recruit more soldiers, pay overdue wages, provide relief for the estate’s citizens, settle debts with the merchant guilds, secure warhorses, and equipment, maintain the fortress, and repair and expand public facilities within the estate…

This cursed estate had far too many places that required funding.

Since tackling everything at once was impossible, he had to address the most urgent issues first, one by one.

To do that, the person overseeing the entire estate—Homerne himself—needed to manage the funds.

“Heh heh, if it’s hard to bring down your target, you start by dismantling those around it. That’s basic military strategy.”

Instead of asking Ghislain directly, Homerne went straight to find Belinda.

She had cared for Ghislain since he was young, serving as his tutor.

No matter how willful the Young Lord was, it would be hard for him to flat-out refuse if Belinda asked for something.

Homerne inwardly praised himself, thinking this was the very essence of politics.

“Oh, Belinda. How are you feeling?”

“My, Baron, what brings you here?”

Belinda was surprised to see such an unexpected visitor.

Ever since Ghislain had started causing trouble, Homerne had all but ignored her, treating her as if she didn’t exist.

She never imagined he would come to see her first.

“Ahem, I heard you were unwell, so I came to check on you.”

“Ah, I’m much better now.”

“That’s a relief. You must always care for your health, as you’re responsible for looking after the Young Lord.”

Though Homerne had treated her as if she didn’t exist, Belinda neither resented nor disliked him.

She understood why.

When Ghislain had been at his worst, causing all sorts of trouble, there wasn’t a single person in the estate who liked him.

And since she had also served as his tutor, most people blamed her, thinking her poor teaching had led to his reckless behavior.

After exchanging pleasantries and the atmosphere softened a bit, Homerne discreetly took something out and placed it in Belinda’s hand.

“Ahem, this… It’s nothing much, but please take it.”

“What is this all of a sudden… Oh my!”

What Homerne handed her was a rose-shaped brooch made of gold and jewels.

As Belinda examined it momentarily, she noticed a small engraved logo and exclaimed in surprise.

“Is this… by any chance ‘Charnel’?”

“Oh, Belinda, you have quite the eye. Yes, it’s indeed Charnel. Hahaha.”

Belinda inspected the brooch closely with a suspicious gaze.

‘Charnel’ was a renowned craftsman, one of the top artisans across the entire continent.

It was an incredibly expensive item, something you wouldn’t expect to see in the impoverished Ferdium estate.

“Is this real?”

“Of course, of course! It’s genuine. I have my pride; do you think I’d walk around with a fake?”

“But why are you giving this to me…?”

Belinda, looking confused, spoke while her eyes sparkled.

With a meaningful smile, Homerne replied.

“I have a small favor to ask…”

At the mention of a favor, Belinda hesitated but eventually nodded her head.

“The Young Lord has earned quite a bit of money recently, hasn’t he? He says he’ll use it for the estate… but wouldn’t it be better if he gave the money to me to handle instead?”

Homerne waved his hand dismissively as he continued.

“Not that I don’t trust the Young Lord! But wouldn’t it be better to use the money more efficiently? After all, I’m the one managing most of the estate’s affairs anyway. What do you think?”

Though he spoke at length, he was, in short, asking her to persuade Ghislain to give him the money.

Belinda thought about it for a long moment but eventually shook her head.

With a sorrowful expression, she handed the brooch back to Homerne.

“I’m sorry. Please take this back. I can’t ask the Young Lord for something like that. The Young Lord’s money is his to manage as he sees fit.”

“Ahem, can’t you reconsider? After all, it’s for the estate. You’d only need to help a little.”

“I’m sorry. I really can’t.”

Despite Homerne’s repeated attempts to persuade her, Belinda kept repeating that she couldn’t do it.

Seeing no other option, he thought he might have to ask Elena for help instead and reached out to take the brooch back.

However, the brooch wouldn’t budge from Belinda’s hand at all.

Homorne flustered, tried pulling it with more force.

‘Huh? Why won’t this come off?’

Belinda gave him an apologetic look.

“Since I can’t grant your request, I suppose it’s only right for you to take it back…”

She offered it to him, but he couldn’t pry it from her grip no matter how much force he used.

‘What the—! Is this thing cursed?’

Looking closer, Homerne noticed a faint blue glow enveloping the brooch.

Belinda held it tightly, even using mana to keep it in her grasp.

‘This is absurd! I was planning to offer this to Miss Elena along with my request. And now look—she’s clenching her teeth and even sweating!’

He thought about scolding her but quickly abandoned the idea.

Other injured people were resting nearby, and maids were bustling around the room.

Fighting over a brooch with a sick woman would only damage his reputation.

‘Now I understand why the Young Lord turned out the way he did!’

With a tutor like this, it was no wonder the student hadn’t grown up properly.

Homorne decided to give up for now and turned away. He figured he could try to retrieve the brooch later and left the room to avoid further embarrassment.

From behind, Belinda called out to him, sounding puzzled.

“Chief Overseer, aren’t you taking this back?”

Who was the one stopping me from taking it?! Homerne turned his head and glared at her.

“You and the Young Lord are exactly the same!”

Frustrated, he muttered angrily as he stomped out of the room.

After he left, Belinda smiled contentedly, twirled the brooch in her hands, and then tucked it under her blanket.

Outside, Homerne stomped off, fuming and trying to think.

“I can’t go straight to Miss Elena right now either.”

The brooch had been the only valuable thing he had, and now Belinda had essentially taken it by force.

He had too much pride to show up empty-handed and make a request.

After pondering for a while, Homerne suddenly had an idea, his face lighting up with excitement.

“That’s it! There’s still Sir Fergus!”

Fergus, like Belinda, had been with Ghislain since he was a child.

Moreover, Fergus was older than Belinda, and Ghislain would likely feel even more pressured to agree if he made the request.

Determined to try this new approach, Homerne ordered his subordinates to fetch him a mandragora root.

Though the root they brought him was shriveled and unimpressive, it was still a valuable medicinal herb.

Recalling where Fergus’s quarters were, Homerne made his way there.

“Sir Fergus! Are you here?”

Upon entering the quarters, Homerne saw Fergus sitting on his bed, reading a book.

“Oh! Chief Overseer! What brings you here?”

Fergus looked startled but greeted him warmly.

“It’s nothing much, really. I just brought something to help with your health…”

Homorne carefully reached into his pocket to take out the mandragora root, worried that even the smallest piece might break off. However, something else caught his eye.

Next to Fergus’s bed were piles of mandragora roots and a wide assortment of other nutritional supplements.

For a moment, Homerne just blinked in disbelief, staring at the abundance of rare medicinal herbs.

With trembling hands, he pointed at the stash.

“What… What is all that? How do you have so many of those precious things?”

Fergus beamed with pride.

“Haha! The Young Lord gave them to me in bulk before he entered the Forest of Beasts. Would you like a few, Chief Overseer?”

It turned out that the moment Ghislain had come into some money, he had stocked up on health supplements and handed them over to Fergus.

Homorne glanced down at the pitiful little mandragora root in his hand and then looked at the large pile beside Fergus. His expression became one of utter dejection.

“No, it’s fine. Just stay healthy.”

He stuffed the shriveled root back into his pocket and walked out, looking more defeated than ever.