Translator: FenrirTL
Editor: Mob
=================
< Chapter 24: Relic of the Ancient Dragon (4) >
Theo reached for his waist, prepared to draw his sword at any moment.
Ready to pull out his blade if necessary.
And the instant he threw open the front door—
Bang!
“...Huh?”
Theo blinked instinctively as a firecracker exploded right in front of his eyes.
“Young Master, congratulations!”
“I heard you got a new title!”
“You’ve worked so, so, so hard until now.”
“Now, with this momentum, keep pushing forward all the way to the Blossoming Ceremony! Go, go!”
At that moment, the dim room lit up brightly, and the maids and butlers greeted him with a celebratory cheer.
Clap, clap, clap, clap!
Above their heads, banners were even flying.
Congratulations! Theo gets a title!
"...What is all this?"
Theo was dumbfounded.
“What else? It’s a party to celebrate the fact that you finally got a title, Young Master.”
“That’s right, that’s right. You have no idea how happy we’ve been lately, do you? Everyone’s been talking about you. Just today, one of my colleagues from the Mistress of Plum Blossom’s Palace was asking me all sorts of things about you. So much envy... Oh ho ho ho!”
At that moment, Theo wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and disappear.
It seemed like this was all because of the rumors that he had crossed swords with the Four Lords of the North, but… it was so embarrassing.
“Where’s Mother…?”
He thought of using that as an excuse to make a quick escape, but—
“The lady of the house said she has to take extra care of you now that you’re on a roll. So, she invited some famous chefs from Winterer and is personally preparing a feast for you. You wouldn’t believe how chaotic the kitchen is right now. Oh ho ho ho!”
"..."
It seemed that today wasn’t going to be a day he could spend quietly.
* * *
“My son, try this grilled abalone. It’s a rare catch from the Idrea Sea, slowly grilled with butter that was difficult to get from a farm in the Fraal Mountains...!”
“Mother, I’ve already eaten more than twenty abalones…”
“Oh, taste this too. It’s a young chicken, raised only on acorns in the Laziria Desert in the west. It was caught just at the perfect age and stewed with ginseng imported from a distant eastern country called Juseon...!”
“I’ve had a lot of chicken too. I feel like I’ll hear a rooster crowing from my stomach tomorrow…”
“There’s also this. Do you remember, my son? When you were about five years old, you said the cod we had in the North Sea was delicious. So I thought of you and prepared it again...!”
"..."
Theo was on the verge of collapse from eating all the food Cecilia kept offering.
He wanted to refuse, saying he was too full, but—
‘...How could I say something like that when she’s looking at me like that?’
Cecilia's eyes sparkled with more liveliness than usual, making it difficult for Theo to open his mouth.
As a result, the table was piled high with dishes like a tower.
- Hasn’t the Young Master always been a light eater?
- That’s what I thought, but apparently not.
- If the food suits his taste, he eats like this. Does that mean our food hasn’t been good enough before?
- This won’t do. We’ll have to push the chefs harder from now on.
- Exactly. Our Young Master must always eat delicious food!
The maids and butlers seemed to be fired up in a strange direction, but Theo didn’t have the time or energy to worry about it.
‘Still… it’s good.’
Theo chewed on a chicken leg, a bitter smile playing on his lips.
Just like when they visited the tailor, Cecilia had personally tasted everything and carefully selected the ingredients, leading the chefs from the front.
It felt like he was seeing another new side of his mother.
‘She seems to have far more talents than I thought.’
“Oh ho ho! My son, you have no idea how happy I am these days.”
“I’m glad to hear you’re enjoying life in Camellia Palace.”
Cecilia tilted her head, puzzled for a moment.
“Hm? What do you mean by that?”
“I thought you didn’t like the Third Lady?”
“Oh, dear! It seems my son has misunderstood because I said I’m happy these days.”
“…?”
“Of course, I’m glad I chased out that little wretch Emil and took over Camellia Palace. That child always spoke ill of you and me wherever she went.”
Had she… really?
“So of course, I’m delighted. It was Emil who first started calling you by that awful… nickname, one I don’t even want to mention.”
‘Crippled fool of Ragnar’s blood.’
It seemed she was referring to the nickname that had followed him like a shadow for so long.
“In truth, my son, you couldn’t have known. I made sure to keep the maids in check so you wouldn’t find out who coined that wretched name.”
Theo’s eyes widened in surprise.
He had no idea.
“Whether we live in the Rose Palace or Camellia Palace, it doesn’t matter to me. As long as it’s a place where I can sit across from you like this and share a meal, it’s enough.”
“...”
“What makes me truly happy is that people are finally starting to see your true worth.”
Once again, that familiar warmth tingled in his heart.
“They must have all been blind before, not seeing how splendid and brave my son is. But now that they know, don’t you think they’ll all be much more careful in front of you from now on? Oh ho ho!”
Cecilia’s pleasant smile felt genuine, without a trace of insincerity.
‘Maybe… I’ve misunderstood my mother all this time.’
Until now, Theo had thought his mother’s desires revolved around social status gained through her son, a thirst for power, and a warped affection stemming from that greed... But it seemed there had been a misunderstanding.
It was an easily resolvable misunderstanding, one that would have cleared up with a heartfelt conversation.
However, it was an understanding they had never once managed to reach.
“And while using you as an excuse, I’ve been enjoying revisiting old hobbies like sewing and cooking. It brings back so many memories. I’m having a lot of fun.”
Theo recalled the image of Cecilia, filled with vitality and passion.
Despite her remarkable zeal and talent, after marrying into the House of Ragnar as the lord’s woman and becoming a mother, she faced scorn and pressure from those around her.
She had been forced to let go of the dreams of her youth, dreams she’d had to cast aside in order to protect her son from those same people.
Theo found himself wishing to keep seeing that liveliness and smile on his mother’s face.
“Mother, perhaps you could try doing those things you used to do aga—”
“Oh, but more importantly, are you using that sword well? I noticed last time you were carrying it with you.”
Cecilia abruptly cut him off, her eyes shifting toward the three swords hanging by the side of the table.
Theo couldn’t bring himself to finish what he was going to say.
Her gaze was telling him not to continue.
- Using you as an excuse, I’ve been revisiting old hobbies like sewing and cooking...
Why were her earlier words lingering in his mind?
“You’ve just been keeping them hung up on the wall, so I was worried that perhaps you didn’t like the gift I gave you,” she added.
“Would you like to see it?”
Theo decided that he’d save the rest of the conversation for another time and picked up one of the swords.
Schring—
The blade slid out of its sheath.
Cecilia’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of the pure white blade.
“The blade is quite damaged.”
“Yes, it just… happened.”
“Are the other swords the same?”
Theo showed her the other two blades, which were in a similar condition.
Cecilia frowned, displeased, and muttered under her breath.
“That damn old woman… She made such a fuss, boasting that with Snow White Ore and Blackwood in the blade, it would never get damaged.”
“Blackwood? Are you talking about the Blackwood that only comes from the Gaia Jungle in the south?”
Blackwood was a rare and unusual plant that grew by consuming metal.
Since Blackwood possesses the qualities of metal, it boasts exceptional hardness and is regarded as one of the finest materials for crafting legendary swords, much like Snow White Ore.
But now, you're saying this sword contains Blackwood too?
“Where else could Blackwood be found? Oh no, this won’t do. I need to confront her about this. If I don’t, I feel like my heart’s going to explode with frustration.”
“...!”
“Could you hand me those swords? I’ll have them properly remade and bring them back to you.”
“They’re fine as they are,” Theo replied.
“What are you saying? Surely you’re not planning to participate in the Blossoming Ceremony with swords in that condition?”
Theo scratched his cheek with his index finger.
“You really were thinking that, weren’t you? Absolutely not! Mark my words. I’ve told you something similar before, but now that your reputation is just starting to spread, you must be more mindful than ever of every action, every word, and every aspect of your appearance.”
Cecilia added sternly that he shouldn’t give people any reason to gossip.
“Every little evaluation people make of you will eventually shape your overall reputation. You mustn’t take it lightly, do you understand?”
Theo nodded.
Now, he understood Cecilia’s words.
Others might say that what truly matters is substance.
Of course, that’s a valid point.
But while substance must certainly be accounted for, appearance and presentation are just as important. After all, for those who don’t know Theo well, they would judge him first by what they see on the surface.
And Theo wasn’t just aiming to be recognized as a simple strongman.
- Patriarch.
He was aiming for the pinnacle of the House of Ragnar.
In that case, he needed to start building his reputation meticulously from now on.
Cecilia’s advice was spot on.
“So, I’m going to be very involved in everything concerning your appearance and behavior at the Blossoming Ceremony. The main star of the event should undoubtedly be you.”
Smack!
Cecilia slapped the table and stood up abruptly.
“Enough talk. Let’s go confront her. I’m going to catch that damn old woman tonight.”
“...It’s 9 PM,” Theo pointed out.
“Does that matter? We need to catch that fraud who took our money and gave us defective products.”
As Cecilia, showing a rare display of agitation, stormed off, Theo couldn’t help but wonder.
Who exactly is this “damn old woman” my mother’s talking about?
* * *
'Come to think of it, I really don't know much about my mother's relationships either.'
While Theo reflected on how indifferent he had been in the past, the carriage carrying him and his mother left Camellia Palace and headed toward the blacksmith district of Winterer.
‘But is Ray still following me...? What on earth is she thinking?’
That meant she had been standing outside Camellia Palace for over three hours in this cold weather. He couldn’t understand why she kept trailing him. Since she didn’t seem to be causing any trouble, Theo had let it slide for now.
‘If this keeps up, I might need to catch her and have a conversation.’
As he was pondering this, they came to a stop.
“We’ve arrived.”
Theo’s eyes widened slightly.
“Vasque Workshop? You know this place?”
The building was so massive that it seemed more like a ‘factory’ than a blacksmith’s forge. Even at this late hour, smoke billowed from the chimneys, and heat radiated so intensely that it could be felt from outside the door.
Theo knew this place all too well. In fact, it was impossible not to know it.
The Vasque Workshop.
It was one of the top three weapon forges in all of Winterer.
Was there any knight in the House of Ragnar who hadn’t handled a sword from here at least once?
“How would a woman with no backing like me know of this place? I only know one person here.”
“…?”
Who could she be referring to?
If they dealt with Snow White Ore and Blackwood directly, they must be a blacksmith of ‘master’ status.
Just as Theo was about to ask who she was talking about—
“You useless maggots! Are your ears clogged? Move it properly! Do you know how much all this costs...? Hey! Do it right! That’s all money, money I tell you!”
A voice filled with hysteria echoed from inside.
“...Money?”
As Theo’s expression turned curious, the workshop door suddenly slammed open with a bang!
“Argh! Do you know how hard it was for me to get this contract?! How am I supposed to meet the deadline like this?!”
An elderly woman stormed out, furiously scratching at her unkempt, silver hair—clearly, she hadn’t washed in days. Dark circles sagged under her eyes, and white smoke billowed incessantly from the long pipe clutched in her mouth.
But despite her rough appearance, her fingers were adorned with rings, each with multiple gemstones. Gold necklaces hung from her neck, and gold bracelets jingled from her wrists, so bright they hurt Theo’s eyes.
The man looked every bit the image of a nouveau riche who hadn’t rested in days, squeezing every ounce of work out of her employees.
In contrast to her rugged appearance, she had sharp, pointed ears and a pale, white face.
Just then, her irritated gaze locked onto Theo.
“What are you looking at? Never seen a smoking elf before?”
An elf like none Theo could have imagined.
‘This person...!’
Theo suddenly realized who she was.
- The owner of Vasque Workshop.
- A mutant elf, cast out from her tribe for abandoning her love of nature and becoming obsessed with blacksmithing.
- A crazed elf who loved gems, gold, and money more than anything in the world.
- Yet, despite all that, her skills were undeniably superior, earning her the title of ‘Master Artisan,’ one of only three in all of Ragnar.
- Commonly known as the ‘Elf Born of Capitalism.’
She was a being classified as ‘top-tier’ by the intelligence department.
‘Majang Kirsion!’
Theo hadn’t expected to encounter such a prominent figure here, and he scrambled to respond, but before he could say anything, Cecilia stepped forward.
“Have you still not quit that damn smoking habit? Even for an elf, if you keep exposing yourself to that much heat and keep smoking like that, you’ll wither away in no time.”
A furrow formed on Cecilia’s otherwise elegant forehead.
“Mother!”
