I Have A Damn Family Again - Chapter 91

Chapter 91: The Disgrace of Shatrain (5)

Barak's dumbfounded expression spoke volumes, confirming my choice.

This was the correct answer.

And now, piecing together his reaction with my memories of the game's various responses, I understood his true intentions, the hidden purpose behind that innocent glass of milk.

"So it was a test. Cleverly disguised, I must admit.”
“…!!”

His eyes widened, his surprise evident.

I pressed on, solidifying my position, leaving no room for doubt.

“The milk will get cold, Barak. Consider this a direct order. Deliver it to Delphina immediately."

I dismissed him with a wave of my hand. Barak, swallowing nervously, bowed his head in acquiescence.

“…As you command.”

He offered no further protest, exiting the room with a hurried step, my command ringing in his ears.

Moments later, he returned, empty-handed, offering a subtle nod towards the doorway.

Several figures, their expressions wary, entered the room.

This, the confirmation I'd been waiting for.

“We apologize for our earlier disrespect, Young Master. We couldn't help but doubt your sudden claim to Lusmire’s lordship.”
“It’s understandable. A lord who’s completely unfamiliar with the local customs and traditions, unaware of a disease known throughout the neighboring territories…”
“No, sir, knowledge of this ailment is… limited. We’re simply curious how you came to learn about it. There’s been no contact from House Bagrand, and…”

Barak, his brow still furrowed with confusion, stared at me, his bewilderment evident.

‘If I told him Camilla was the source, he’d probably faint.’

The very thought of Camilla, a former caretaker of their territory, serving as a maid within House Bagrand, would be a shock to his system.

But the true purpose of this test, this elaborate charade, was to assess my worth, my sudden claim to their territory.

It wasn't solely about the milk, of course. They’d likely intended to use my lack of knowledge as leverage, to challenge my authority, to cast doubt upon my suitability as their lord. I knew their tactics, their carefully laid traps, having triggered numerous bad endings through my previous playthroughs.

“So, is this test finally over?”
“Yes, Young Master. But please, direct your punishment solely towards me…”
“There’s no need. I’m aware of the neighboring nobles’ attempts to exploit you. Your initial suspicion was expected.”
”...”

Perhaps I’d been too blunt, exposing their vulnerabilities, stripping away their carefully constructed facade. Barak, his lips pressed into a thin line, remained silent.

Well, there was no helping it. It was up to me to steer the conversation.

“And these individuals?”
“Ah, yes. These are the representatives of each village within Lusmire. Fine young men, all of them.”

The young men, one by one, bowed their heads, offering their names and village affiliations. They were all residents of Lusmire, each representing their own community.

Their delayed arrival, orchestrated by Barak, was a clear indication of their lingering doubts.

“I was curious why those children offered me four Lusmire tokens. It seems my arrival sparked a… thorough investigation. My apologies.”

Barak, offering a final bow, confessed his initial mistrust.

-Ding!

I ignored the tempting, but ultimately disastrous, choices that involved accusing them of disrespect and asserting my dominance.

Instead, I opted for a more neutral approach.

“Please, take a seat. We have much to discuss.”

The young men, representing their respective villages, settled into their assigned seats, their expressions a mixture of apprehension and curiosity.

And then, the familiar scene unfolded.

“Are you truly the lord of our territory?”

The question, the confirmation they sought, the first hurdle I needed to overcome.

“Yes. I’ve paid the required sum to the Imperial treasury and received official recognition as your lord.”
“Unbelievable.”
“Kiyan was telling the truth…”
“Our Lusmire…”

A wave of sighs, a chorus of uncertainty, filled the room.

Were they celebrating? No. Far from it.

“We humbly request that you relinquish control of our territory, Young Master Carsein.”
“While we yearned for the protection of another house, this… this is not what we envisioned.”
“We are willing to compensate you for your assistance. If you require taxes, we will find a way to meet your demands, within the boundaries of Imperial law. But please, refrain from direct involvement in our affairs.”

Despite their desperate need, their yearning for a savior, Lusmire, ironically, rejected Carsein’s offer of protection.

And the reason, painfully clear, echoed the fears I’d harbored in my own life.

“We do not wish to become another Shatrain.”

The tale of Shatrain’s downfall, a cautionary reminder of Carsein’s past failures, had reached their ears.

Who would willingly embrace a lord known for destroying a once-prosperous territory, a territory blessed with rare and valuable crops? They’d rather endure their current hardships than risk utter ruin.

-Ding!

[ 1. Insolent fools! You dare demand I relinquish my lordship?! ]
[ 2. Then reimburse me for the funds I spent acquiring your territory. Once I’m compensated, I’ll gladly leave. ]
[ 3. You ungrateful wretches! You dare speak to your benefactor with such disrespect?! I'll add this to your debt and make you pay! Just you wait! ]
[ 4. I won't repeat the mistakes of Shatrain. I’m here to help you! ]
[ 5. Shatrain was a misunderstanding! Give me a chance, and I’ll prove myself! ]
…
…

The system, seizing the opportunity, presented a selection of choices, ranging from the instantly fatal, the death flags leading to a swift and brutal end, to the seemingly innocuous, their true nature veiled in ambiguity.

These choices, a reflection of the villagers’ deep-seated mistrust, their fear of Carsein Bagrand and all he represented.

‘The correct answer? Choice number 8. Reveal the neighboring nobles' attempts to annex Lusmire, highlighting their vulnerability, then offer to purchase their sacred statue, a symbol of their identity.’

Carsein, bound by the system's limitations, couldn’t escape this dilemma. He was required to accept a reward, to take something from these impoverished villagers, from this struggling territory.

A cruel and unsettling requirement.

But there was a loophole, a way to turn this seemingly exploitative act into a gesture of support. He could purchase the statue, framing it as a transaction, a fair exchange, then use the funds he received from the Ducal family to provide financial aid to the village.

That was the strategy I’d employed during my previous playthroughs, a clever workaround that had earned me the villagers’ trust, allowing me to revitalize Lusmire, proving that I wouldn't repeat the mistakes of Shatrain.

My actions, my genuine efforts to improve their lives, had ultimately led to the restoration of my participation rights.

But…

‘That was the wrong approach.’

I’d seen the hope in their eyes, their desperation masked by a facade of defiance. And now, their vulnerability, their unspoken plea for help, resonated with my own experiences.

‘I understand their need. I yearned for a savior myself.’

Ostracized by my own family, I understood their longing, their silent hope for someone to alleviate their suffering.

Perhaps this was a skewed perspective, an oversimplification fueled by my own past. Perhaps these were just characters in a game, their emotions programmed, their responses pre-determined.

[ Affinity Levels ]
[ 8%, 3%, 6%, 6% ]

No, it wasn't an exaggeration. Their affinity levels had increased even before the episode had concluded.

Hope, a fragile ember, flickering within their hearts.

And so, I rejected the eighth choice.

“So you expect me to be your lord, to offer protection without any benefit to myself? What do I gain from this arrangement?”
“Young Master, your interpretation is far too extreme!”
“Besides, we’ve already offered to pay taxes!”
“Don’t delude yourselves. I didn’t acquire this territory for a measly sum of taxes.”

[ 7. If you refuse to accept me as your lord, then I have no intention of protecting this territory. ] ☑

“You have two choices. Either accept me as your lord, or lose your protector entirely."
"W-What?”
“If you’re unwilling to find solutions, to rise above your current circumstances, then I have no use for you.”

My words, delivered with an unwavering resolve, startled them, their faces etched with a mixture of confusion and apprehension.

Yes, indulging their desire for a savior, for someone to solve their problems, wouldn't lead to a lasting solution.

They needed to rely on themselves.

In this moment of desperation, this crucible of hardship, they needed to find the strength, the will to rise above their circumstances.

“I’ll return tomorrow, at this same time. Make your choice. I’ll assess your commitment, your willingness to rebuild this village, and decide whether or not this territory is worth saving.”

I left without another word, exiting the village head’s home, my mind made up.

Affinity levels no longer held any significance.

***

Silence descended upon the room after the door clicked shut, broken only by a collective sigh of despair.

Heads bowed, their gazes fixed on the floor, a sense of defeat permeating the air.

One of the village representatives, his voice heavy with disappointment, spoke, his words echoing the sentiments of the group.

“This is… cruel. We finally have a lord willing to protect us, and he issues such a… demanding ultimatum?”
“This is unacceptable. He clearly doesn't understand our struggles, our lack of resources. We even offered to pay taxes!”
“And yet, he intends to abandon us. Even without proper investigation, this is… harsh, unfeeling.”

The representatives, their voices a chorus of frustration, debated their next move, their hopes dashed, their future uncertain. And then, Barak, his voice a quiet murmur, spoke, his words tinged with regret.

“… This is our fault, not his.”
“Village Head Barak?”
“We expected him to offer unconditional support. He has every right to demand something in return.”
“But we remember what happened to Shatrain! If our territory collapses, there will be no coming back!”

The other men, nodding in agreement, echoed his concerns. But Barak shook his head, his gaze unwavering.

“Think carefully. Did he ever explain why he acquired Lusmire?”
“Well…”

They fell silent, the truth of his words sinking in. They hadn’t bothered to inquire about Carsein's motivations, his reasons for helping them, his expectations.

“How arrogant, how foolish we’ve been. And yet, we expected him to protect us, to solve our problems. Are we any different from those nobles, those bandit knights, who preyed upon our vulnerability?”

His words, a sharp rebuke, hung in the air, silencing their protests.

-Slap!

One of the men, his face flushed with shame, struck himself, the sound echoing through the room.

The others followed suit, their self-recrimination evident in their downcast gazes, their hands clenching into fists, their lips pressed into thin lines.

“And yet, he offered us a chance.”
“A chance…?”

-I’ll return tomorrow, at this same time. Make your choice. I’ll assess your commitment, your willingness to rebuild this village, and decide whether or not this territory is worth saving.

Carsein’s words, a challenge, a call to action, reverberated within their hearts.

They exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between them, then rose, their shoulders straightening, their gazes resolute, and exited the room.

‘Yes, we must answer his question. We must prove ourselves worthy.’

Carsein’s words, a guiding light, had illuminated their path forward.

.
.
.

Meanwhile, as Carsein prepared to depart, his carriage waiting to whisk him back to the ducal manor, a small figure, her breathing ragged, her voice calling out his name, came running towards him.

“Young Master! Wait!”

He didn’t recognize her, not immediately, but her form, her silhouette against the fading light, seemed vaguely familiar. As she approached, her identity became clear.

‘It’s Dienna.’

He had no idea why she was chasing after him, her face flushed with exertion, but if something had occurred within the village, she’d be the one to deliver the news. Carsein, about to step into the carriage, paused, his foot hovering above the step, then lowered himself back onto the ground.

“Thank goodness…! Oh, I’m so out of breath…”

He’d been about to inquire about her reason for seeking him out, but seeing her struggle to catch her breath, he realized it wasn’t an emergency. If something urgent had occurred, she would have spoken immediately, despite her exhaustion.

This, then, was a minor issue, something that could wait.

“Are you leaving already? You haven’t seen our entire village yet… Please, stay a while longer!”

Her request, her eagerness for him to remain, tugged at his heartstrings. He, too, yearned to explore Lusmire, to gather more information, to solidify his plans.

Staying longer would allow him to delve deeper into the unique characteristics of each village, to update his knowledge, to identify and address any unforeseen challenges that had arisen due to his accelerated progress.

But he knew it was time to return. The danger level, a constant reminder of his vulnerability, urged him to leave, to seek refuge within the familiar walls of the ducal manor.

And then…

‘…What?’

He stared at the notification that had appeared beside him, his eyes widening in surprise.

▶ You have successfully triggered an outcome exceeding the given choices! ◀
▶ Your reputation within Lusmire has been upgraded to “Fame”! ◀

■ Reward
[ The Remten Village Zone has been unlocked. ]
[ You may now remain in Remten Village without triggering additional choices related to the Warning Zone danger level. ]

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