Reincarnated as the Descendant of a Fallen Noble

Chapter 13: Collect Unpaid Debts. (1)

In front of the backyard after the people of Calpion had left.

Everyone of Daphne stood blankly, blinking as they stared fixedly at Hardin.

Hardin... had won.

He had won the duel? Against Grand Duke Donfel, of all people?

Hardin, the shut-in Grand Duke.

That Hardin had defeated Donfel, the Steel Serpent.

And in a duel that had the fate of the family riding on it.

It was an unbelievable outcome, but everyone had seen it with their own eyes.

No one could quite bring themselves to speak, when Hardin scratched his chin and said indifferently.

"Do you all have nothing more to say?"

That was when it happened.

Tadadat!

Viscount Cobalt and Commander Mulgybson jumped forward, shouting.

"H-Hardin! Are you hurt anywhere?"

"...Young Master!"

The Lord checked Hardin’s body here and there, while Commander Mulgybson, standing beside him, stomped his feet anxiously.

"Ah, geez. I’m fine, so stop touching me."

"No! I have to check properly!"

"Did you suffer any sword wounds? Are you in pain anywhere?"

"I said I’m not."

Seriously, what was all this fuss about?

Hardin’s chin was grabbed by the Lord’s hand and turned this way and that.

In the meantime—

"Is this... not a dream?"

"Did the Young Master really win? For real?"

"You saw it earlier."

"Then... the f-family debt is gone?!"

Gadolph, the servants, even the retainers—

They all babbled with bewildered expressions, as if they didn’t know what to say.

"Are you really, really okay?"

"Ah, I told you I am."

After a while, when the Lord finished checking Hardin’s body, he let out a sigh.

"Haa..."

Hardin... had actually beaten that Donfel?

Who could have possibly predicted such a result?

It had been astonishing enough that he’d recovered his mana, but he had gone beyond that to achieve victory?

He had prevented the family domain from falling into others’ hands and proved that he was superior to Donfel, the Steel Serpent.

How could this be possible... it was simply incomprehensible.

"Hardin, just how did you do it?"

"What do you mean?"

"All of it! How did you get your mana back... your swordsmanship... how did you possibly beat Donfel?"

"I told you already. I acquired a secret manual."

"This isn’t something you can do just by acquiring a secret manual! This... this is..."

Hardin replied lightly, as if it were nothing special.

"Well, I wasn’t just idling away in my room all that time."

"...Hardin."

The moment he heard those words, Viscount Cobalt’s nose stung.

For years, he had thought Hardin did absolutely nothing.

A wastrel Grand Duke who stayed in his room without any motivation, only picking fights with others.

Everyone had thought that way about Hardin, and Cobalt himself believed it wasn’t wrong.

But for Hardin to have produced this outcome...

Had he not given up, then?

It meant he had struggled in places no one could see.

Just what kind of grueling effort had he gone through to achieve this result... it was something Cobalt couldn’t even dare to imagine.

His eyebrows trembled on their own, and bitter guilt welled up inside him.

That was when it happened.

"Splendid work, Young Master!"

"C-Congratulations! You have saved the family!"

Right afterward, the retainers and Commander Mulgybson cheered.

Nothing more, nothing less—

The fact that Hardin had saved the family was the literal truth.

Mulgybson quickly rushed to Hardin’s side and spoke to him.

"Just what kind of secret manual did you acquire? What sort of extraordinary sword technique could bring about such results...?"

Hardin waved his hand dismissively.

"There was no such thing."

"Pardon?"

"I’m telling you, there was no such thing. I just said that to lure Donfel in."

"Then... how exactly did you regain your mana? And what was that duel we just witnessed?"

Hardin grinned.

"I just trained hard when no one was looking. That’s all there is to it."

"Truly... that’s all?"

"Yes, yes. Where would I even have gotten a secret manual from? Isn’t that right?"

Well, to be precise, it was true there was a secret manual...

‘If I mention it now, I’m bound to get nothing but trouble.’

For people who hadn’t yet developed the proper qualities, the Wave Swordsmanship would be no better than a pearl necklace on a pig’s neck.

It was better to leave it as if it didn’t exist for now.

"But... is it really possible to regain mana through training alone...?"

"Who knows. Maybe God Faeron decided to help me. Oh, and I did buy and drink a whole bunch of mana potions with the money from the storage, so maybe that played a part."

Well, that wasn’t entirely a lie, at least.

When Hardin shrugged his shoulders, Mulgybson’s expression turned moved, and he spoke in a serious tone.

"Perhaps... God Faeron answered your earnest efforts and determination."

His eyes quickly turned red.

He even went so far as to sniffle.

An awkward expression naturally appeared on Hardin’s face.

‘He’s crying? Over this?’

Anyone would think I’d just defeated a Sword Saint.

While Hardin was scratching the bridge of his nose in embarrassment—

"Thank you for your hard work...!"

"Truly, you’ve given us a chance to breathe, thanks to you!"

The retainers once again bowed their heads toward Hardin, unable to stop their fervent cheers and admiring gazes.

Amid all this—

"Young Master Hardin! Long liiiive!"

At the shout from behind, everyone turned their eyes.

And there was Gadolph, tears streaming down his face as he raised both hands high in the air.

‘I-I survived!’

Having come to the brink of hell—and then survived again thanks to Hardin (even if it had been Hardin who nearly sent him there in the first place...)—it was only natural for him to react this way.

Soon enough, this cry spread like wildfire.

"L-Long liiiive!"

"Well done, Young Master!"

In no time, the backyard filled with voices chanting Hardin’s name.

It felt like being a triumphant general returning from war.

‘Just because I knocked down some Calpion riffraff, just because I did this much, you think showering me with praise like this, huh? You think I’d enjoy that? Me?’

...Though as Hardin thought this, the corners of his mouth were somehow squirming around like a worm.

While Hardin was surrounded by people and basking in this questionable victory celebration—

"......"

Third Young Master Malion was staring fixedly this way.

Unlike the others, there was something oddly mixed into his face—a hint of bitter awkwardness and confusion.

‘What’s with him?’

A strange atmosphere that faintly bothered him.

But Hardin soon pulled his gaze away from Malion and let out a deep breath through his nose.

‘Well, that’s not important right now. For now... I’ve got something to collect first.’

There was still something he had to deal with immediately.

Step, step.

Hardin walked straight up to Cobalt and spoke.

"Father."

"...Hm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Y-Yes. Say whatever you like."

When Cobalt replied with a bewildered expression, Hardin crossed his arms and asked.

"Those Vinter Merchant Guild bastards—what are you going to do about them?"

"Vinter Merchant Guild?"

"Yeah. Our debt. Weren’t they the ones who originally owed it?"

A slight frown formed between Cobalt’s brows.

He rubbed his chin, pondering for a long moment before answering.

"We’ve already searched for them as much as we could. Even if we chase them now, it’s no use... there’s nothing more to be done."

"So the family has no intention of going after them?"

"Yes, but... why are you asking about this?"

When Cobalt cast him a suspicious look, Hardin quickly shook his head.

"No reason, just curious."

"...I see?"

Just as the excited atmosphere began to settle down, Hardin kept glancing around furtively and stretched.

"Aaah, I’m tired."

"Tired?"

"Yeah. I suddenly had to exert myself, and now my whole body’s sore."

"Were you hurt during the duel after all? I’ll summon the physician immediately—"

Cobalt looked at him with alarm, but Hardin hurriedly waved both hands.

"No, no. Forget the physician. I’ll be fine if I just go rest."

"Are you truly alright?"

"I told you, I’m fine."

With that, Hardin turned his back and began walking away.

And behind him, voices called out.

"If you need anything, just say the word, and rest well!"

"Thank you for everything, Young Master!"

"Yeah, yeah."

Hardin waved his hand lazily as he slipped out through the crowd.

Then—

"Oh-hoho! Thank you for your hard work, Young Master! I knew you could do it!"

Gadolph, who had been watching from a little distance away, approached Hardin with an excited face and shouted.

At that moment, Hardin grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and spoke in a low voice.

"Enough of that. I’ve got something to say, so follow me to my room right now."

"Something to say? What is it?"

"Just come when I tell you to."

"Uh... y-yes."

Why is he suddenly acting like this?

Though utterly perplexed, Gadolph followed along.

---

...A short while later, inside Hardin’s room.

Creeeak! Thud!

Hardin shut the door and spoke to Gadolph.

"Hey, pack up right now."

Gadolph’s eyes went round.

"Pack up? Right now?"

"Yeah. We’re heading out immediately."

"...After all that chaos just now, where are you planning to go again?"

"To catch those Vinter Merchant Guild bastards."

When Hardin said this with a broad grin, Gadolph tilted his head.

"Huh? Why catch them? You already paid off all the debt."

"That’s exactly why we’re going after them."

"...Pardon?"

What in the world was he talking about?

Gadolph’s face grew even more puzzled.

"Just now, you said it yourself—I paid off 300,000 gold by winning the duel, right?"

"Yes, that’s correct."

"Then that means I repaid the debt those Vinter Merchant Guild scum owed in their place."

"Well... in a way, yes."

"Then don’t they now owe me 300,000 gold?"

"Is... is that how it works?"

"Of course it does."

Hardin fixed him with a resolute expression and spoke with firm conviction.

‘These people don’t know the value of money.’

It wasn’t just a handful of coins—it was 300,000 gold.

If there were bastards who ran off with that, the first thought should be to hunt them down, not to give up.

‘Well, this is a good opportunity for me.’

The old man had clearly said he had no intention of pursuing the Vinter Merchant Guild.

In other words, if he caught them himself—

‘That money is all mine.’

The corners of Hardin’s mouth curved into a sly smile.

If he could get his hands on 300,000 gold... it would be a huge boost to my finances—no, to the family’s finances.

At the same time, a face surfaced in his memory—

A certain thief from his days in Varlach who had taught him many skills.

“Hurry up and find them, hurry up.”

“Ah, I’m looking, so quit nagging me, you damn pest!”

Thanks to that fellow, I had become quite adept at tracking down runaways.

‘Just wait, you bastards.’

Soon enough... I’ll find you.

In Hardin’s heart, a devil wore a sinister smile.

---

The next morning, in the corridor of the Daphne mansion.

“Hm hm hm... hm hm hm.”

A middle-aged man—Viscount Cobalt, to be precise—was walking down the corridor, humming an oddly cutesy tune that didn’t suit his massive frame.

Even when he stood still, the corners of his mouth kept twitching upward.

The reason he was so elated was none other than what Hardin had accomplished the day before.

‘Truly admirable, Hardin.’

That troublesome son whom everyone had called a wastrel, trash, the shut-in Young Master.

Such a son had regained the mana they thought he’d never recover, and even gone on to defeat the infamous Grand Duke Donfel, the “Steel Serpent,” in a duel.

‘It’s unbelievable. Hahaha, oh hohoho.’

Yesterday, he had wanted to rush to Hardin and shower him with praise right away, but he’d worried Hardin might be exhausted, or that the retainers would find the sight undignified, so he had forced himself to hold back for a whole day.

He’d woken up naturally the moment the sun rose.

He could hardly wait to speak to Hardin.

Naturally, his destination was Hardin’s room.

He wanted to go to him, offer praise for his great deed—and also clear up some questions he had.

‘Hardin, just what kind of training did you do? When, how, and how much?’

Hardin had lived for years as a cripple without mana.

For him to regain it and then defeat Donfel—

That alone was a miracle, something to be grateful for, but as a knight himself, Cobalt was simply curious.

How exactly had Hardin trained?

Moreover—

‘If I can learn what it was... it might be of great help in restoring the Wave Swordsmanship.’

The Wave Swordsmanship—the style he had devoted over a decade to reviving.

This might prove a breakthrough in bringing that sword back to life.

What should he ask first? Perhaps he should start by rewarding Hardin for such an achievement?

Pride and anticipation mingled together, swelling in his chest.

He vividly pictured an ideal scene: father and son smiling and chatting together.

Suppressing his excitement as best he could, he kept walking.

‘I’m here.’

Before he knew it, he was standing before Hardin’s door.

He wiped the smile off his face with effort and knocked.

Knock knock!

“Hardin, are you awake?”

He knocked, but no reply came.

“...Hm?”

Knock knock knock!

“Hardin?”

Knock knock! Knock knock knock knock!

He knocked again and again, but still, there was no answer.

“Is there no one in there?”

“...”

No matter how many times he asked, the result was the same.

Growing puzzled, Cobalt finally grasped the doorknob.

Creeeeak!

A completely empty room greeted him.

“Hmm...? Hardin?”

The bed was neatly made, as if no one had ever used it.

When he looked around, he noticed a small note left atop the blanket.

Viscount Cobalt approached and picked up the note.

Gone to collect unpaid debts.

–Hardin–

“Unpaid debts?”

What in the world... did that mean? All of a sudden?

Viscount Cobalt’s face clouded with uneasy suspicion.