Chapter 201 : Chapter 201
Chapter 201
I, Desep Denoebang, was very tired.
I was what is commonly called a man of power.
It is not at all different to say I was a person of high standing.
Not just ordinarily high, but one of the seventeen elders who rule the entire West, the man second only to the king in the great nation of Maesh.
However, unbecoming of a man of high standing, I was a man armed with a sense of responsibility.
This was because of the long years I had spent on the field as a knight.
My fatigue often stemmed from this sense of responsibility.
I could have ignored it all and enjoyed a life of pleasure if I wished, but I did not live that way.
What could I do, even if the burden I shouldered was heavy?
If it was a burden already given, I had no choice but to bear it.
Sometimes, even if I wanted to complain to someone somewhere, if there was no opportunity, that too could not be helped. I did not find the reason for my life in pleasure.
Today was no exception.
A lunch banquet, sharing trivial stories with noisy nobles, brought me no pleasure whatsoever.
Especially with the Cordis Empire's invasion just around the corner.
But it was a necessary task to handle the high-nosed nobles as I wished.
No matter how bothersome and annoying it was!
"Will that man Shion of Merion come looking for the White Lord?"
"Could that really happen?"
"But his achievements are incredible......"
"I don't believe in those achievements! Do you believe that? How naive of you!"
The nobles chattered like a flock of birds.
They were cautious when speaking of the White Lord and mixed in ridicule when speaking of Shion.
It seemed they thought doing so would please me, Desep Denoebang.
I couldn't help but press my forehead, as their shallow intentions were so obvious.
‘…I’m tired…….’
I am sixty-eight years old this year.
No matter that I was a knight who contended for the title of the West's greatest in my youth, it is an age where I feel the limits of my stamina.
I let out a small sigh as I looked at the carefree nobles.
‘Chattering on about this and that without knowing anything… and war is imminent…….’
Unable to bear it any longer, I took a glass of fruit wine in my hand.
‘Damn it, Obro…….’
Only ten days had passed since Shion declared he would seek out the White Lord.
In just those ten days, the nobles had chatted about Shion and the White Lord with great excitement. I was sick of it.
‘Should I have not let that fellow Shion meet Obro…….’
Just as my deep thoughts were turning into worry, I heard a noise from outside.
A commotion, it was not a common occurrence in the mansion of the Denoebang family, the greatest house of swordsmanship in Maesh.
"...Lord Desep!"
A man came running in.
He was a young man I had as a secretary.
Usually, he was the very picture of neatness, but now his clothes and hair were all disheveled.
The nobles enjoying the banquet quieted down, and I did not hide my displeasure.
"What is it? We are in the middle of a banquet."
"...A, an assailant......!"
The secretary continued, panting for breath.
"...He insists on seeing the Lord, on seeing Lord Desep!"
"Me?"
I tilted my head.
"Tell him to wait. Whoever it is, it seems he has business with me that warrants such rudeness."
"I, I told him that... but he stubbornly insists he must see you right now......!"
"No wonder it was so noisy."
I clicked my tongue.
But soon, I became puzzled.
"Wait. Isn't Portrain here? With his personality, would he have just stood by and watched an assailant?"
"......Sir... Sir Portrain......"
The secretary mumbled.
Sir Portrain was a knight I had personally taught and was one of the few Masters in Maesh.
This meant he had swordsmanship that ranked among the best in the entire country.
"......has been knocked unconscious by the assailant's club."
"......What?"
A Master of Maesh, knocked unconscious by an assailant's club?
It was an absurd statement.
Before I had a chance to mull over just how absurd the situation was, the commotion grew louder.
"Stop him! Whatever it takes …heuk!"
"Don't let him get to the Lord …argh!"
"Y-You can't go in …keuk!"
A series of screams, subtly different yet similar, followed one after another.
"......"
The banquet hall fell silent.
The nobles just rolled their eyes, trying to grasp what was happening.
Feeling an unparalleled fatigue, I gripped my sword. I wondered just how much longer I had to live watching such scenes.
Bang, the door opened as if it were breaking.
A man with a shaggy beard entered.
"So you were here."
The man's beard was very dirty.
He looked at me, then shook his head.
On his face, hidden by the beard and hair, only his brown eyes were distinct.
"Why on earth do they try so hard to stop me."
He casually propped the club in his hand in a corner.
It was the weapon that had knocked out Sir Portrain and many of the Denoebang family guards in one go.
"When I said I came to see my own father."
"......You......"
I stared at the bearded man, dumbfounded.
That beard, that hair, even though it was shorter, I remembered it.
There was no way I could forget.
"......Obro......?"
"Yes, Father. It is me."
The bearded man bowed his head politely.
He briefly counted how long it had been since he had faced his father and was somewhat surprised by the fact that he hadn't even seen his face for about 6 years.
But he pushed down all his emotions for a moment and finished his greeting.
"Your youngest son, Obro Denoebang, has returned."
Astonishment surged.
It shook the hearts and minds of the nobles in the banquet hall with shock.
The name Obro Denoebang had that kind of power. ‘…The White Lord?’
‘The White Lord, you say? That bearded man?’
‘No, what happened to him all this time….’
‘No, no! That’s not what’s important. The White Lord has returned!’
The astonishment swelled into anticipation and fervor, or into suspicion and confusion.
Obro Denoebang remained unshaken by any of it.
"I apologize for barging in so suddenly. There are people I absolutely must show you, Father."
"......People, you say."
"Please take a look outside."
I obediently followed Obro's words.
There was no reason not to.
To be honest, my head was still in a daze.
My youngest son, who had been broken as a drunkard for 8 years, had suddenly returned, so even the great Desep Denoebang could not easily collect his wits.
"......"
Beyond the window was the Denoebang family's training ground.
It was packed with people.
Men and women, the elderly and children.
If there was a commonality, it was that their appearances were not very good, and they looked gaunt and weary, as if they had suffered and not eaten well for a long time.
Their number appeared to be around eight hundred.
"...Who are they, Obro?"
"They are the trace of my error."
"The trace of your error?"
It was a somewhat poetic expression, but I soon realized the meaning of those words.
If it was Obro Denoebang's error, then, from 11 years ago…….
"Hey! Everyone, look over there!"
A noble raised his voice.
He was clearly very surprised.
Otherwise, he would not have dared to interrupt the conversation between Desep Denoebang and Obro Denoebang.
He pointed to one of the eight hundred people gathered outside and shouted.
"There, that person! Isn't that Viscount Kedene!"
"...Viscount Kedene? Didn't he die a long time ago?"
"He didn't die, he went missing."
"Aren't you mistaken?"
"I'm not! He's my second cousin, so I know. We played together so much when we were young! He's a bit thin, but that's definitely Kedene!!"
"But, Viscount Kedene was......"
Someone muttered.
"......missing during the ‘Night of Inversion’......"
"No, wait, if that's the case...... surely not!!!"
The White Lord, returned after 8 years, his words about bringing back the trace of his error, Viscount Kedene who had gone missing during the ‘Night of Inversion’.
These things clicked together, declaring that something absurd was happening.
Announcing that an event beyond imagination, close to a miracle, had manifested in reality.
"...Hol! It's Hol, that bastard! He's my friend! My friend! The one who disappeared 11 years ago......"
"Mandre......? That face, could it be, Mandre......?"
"My, my, my son......! Perhaps my second son Tapagnon, maybe......!!!"
In the midst of the commotion, I slowly raised my head.
Obro Denoebang had a faint smile on his face. It was a relieved smile that a broken man could never show.
"Obro, these people are......"
"Yes. The people who disappeared during the ‘Night of Inversion’. Those who were taken away."
Obro Denoebang's eyes are still sad.
The long hardship has left its traces as wrinkles.
Even though he saved eight hundred, there are many he could not save.
He could not forget those he failed to save.
So he could not yet cast off all his sorrow.
"Father, I lost many because of my mistake. Yes, many, I failed to save far too many......"
How many people would that be, the equivalent of three cities?
Hundreds of thousands?
Millions?
Out of those, only eight hundred returned.
The loss was so great that it felt like a large thorn was lodged in my windpipe.
So, it is a wonder that I can smile.
Even though it hurts so much, the smile would not leave my lips.
"However, life must have taken pity on this unworthy Obro… I was able to meet and bring back these eight hundred who held on for so long."
"...Where were they?"
"The Underworld."
He recited.
"I rescued them from a deep valley ruled by an ancient god of old."
"...It is hard to believe, Obro. It's a story more like a fairy tale than a fairy tale."
"But it is the truth."
Obro took out a liquor bottle from his bosom and took a small sip.
He was still a drunkard.
Hadn't he decided not to hate himself for being a drunkard, at least?
To me, the sight of my youngest son sipping alcohol felt unfamiliar.
It was because he seemed more human than ever before.
"A man named Shion of Merion guided me."
"That man really......!"
I could not hide my surprise.
Was Shion's words true?
Was his claim to rescue the White Lord not a bluff, not a deception, but something akin to a proclamation?
Seeing my surprised face, Obro slowly raised his hand.
"I have let go of the sword for too long. A man who has nothing but his sword."
He opened his mouth, full of the smell of alcohol.
His smile deepened.
"Now, I intend to take up the sword again."
"...Obro."
"So please, spread the word to all of the West."
His smile is grayish-white.
"That Obro Denoebang has returned."
***
"He will become the center of the West."
I said.
"It's something I can't do."
"Is it impossible?"
"Seems so? It might not be entirely impossible, but there's no reason to."
I shook my head.
I did not set becoming a hero as my goal.
I only became a hero to bring down the empire.
"The White Lord, who was gone for 8 years, has finally returned, having rescued eight hundred victims of the ‘Night of Inversion’."
I grinned.
"The entire West will have no choice but to be ecstatic. A wounded hero is more human, so they will have no choice but to love him."
"It will be enough to draw the Empire's attention too."
"Of course."
Cordis will also be surprised.
The Empire went as far as to make the ancient god, the ‘Black Light of the Abyss’, go berserk to turn Obro Denoebang into a wreck.
But for him to suddenly return, stronger than before! I felt good and chuckled.
"Still, is it alright to send the White Lord away right away? What if he ends up opposing us?"
"He swore allegiance to me. He knelt on his own, even when I told him I didn't want him to."
The regressor prince continued.
"He reminded me of a certain someone from 7 years ago, what's your opinion? Will the White Lord who swore such an oath betray me?"
"......I don't think so."
"I think so too. He might talk nonsense, but he doesn't lie."
The White Lord, Obro Denoebang, has become my ally.
At the very least, I was confident that he would move as I wished him to move.
"Then let's depart right away. We have no time to rest."
"To Schmeizen?"
"Yes. To the north."
I stood up.
The stamina consumed in the Underworld was fully recovered after about a day's rest.
In the end, the only one who had fought was Obro Denoebang, so there was no need for us to rest for long.
"More importantly, Shion, let me ask just one more thing."
"You have a lot of questions today."
"I absolutely have to ask this."
Amethus turned his head.
There was someone who usually wouldn't be there.
He was not someone we knew well, just one of the eight hundred rescued from the Underworld.
"Why are we taking this man?"
"Yes, why am I with you all?"
The man tilted his head.
"While sending all eight hundred with Obro, why is only this one person with us......"
"I'm really curious. More importantly, who am I? And where is this place?"
"He's lost all his memories too!"
He must have been attacked by the name-eating serpent of the Underworld, the ‘Name-eater’.
Looking at the man tilting his head like a child, I said.
"There's a reason for everything. Right, Yulan?"
"Is my name Yulan?"
"Yes. Your name is Yulan."
"I see. I am Yulan."
The man, who had just realized his own name, nodded his head.
"We absolutely need you to awaken the last hero, Yulan."