At night, I had dozed off while sitting on a chair in the corridor, only to find myself in an unfamiliar room—surrounded by my ancestors.
How did things end up like this? Even I didn’t understand.
“Seriously...”
In the center of the room was a large round table, and we were all seated around it. The chairs were tall, with backs that rose higher than my head.
They suited the luxurious atmosphere of the room, but something about them felt surreal. All over the room were embedded blue, glowing orbs.
One such orb also glowed at the center of the table.
“You were the one who messed up his education!”
“Not me! The Walt House is patrilineal, and Lyle was officially chosen as the heir! It’s definitely not my fault! If I’d been there, I would’ve smacked my son!”
A barbarian-looking man and my grandfather were grappling and arguing.
Although the barbarian man seemed stronger, the rest of the room looked on indifferently. Ignoring the two, the discussion returned to me.
A man dressed like a hunter asked me to continue my explanation.
“Let’s just ignore the noisy ones. So, Lyle was supposed to be the ninth head of the family but lost to his younger sister and was driven out. That alone is a serious issue, but let’s set that aside for now—”
As he tried to move the conversation forward, the barbarian-looking man—the first head of the Walt family, leader of the original settlers, Basil Walt—interjected.
“That’s not okay! The next head losing to a younger girl? Nonsense!”
“You damn savage! Watch what you say about my grandson!”
My grandfather punched the first head, but again, the surrounding reactions were lukewarm.
The hunter-like man—the second head, Crassel Walt—calmly dismissed them.
“That’s not the issue here. Let’s all take a seat. Normally, we wouldn’t let a girl inherit the family. At least, I never taught it that way, no matter how talented she might be.”
The man next to him, the third head, Slei Walt, agreed. He looked frivolous, dressed like a low-ranking noble.
“Right. I became the head, and my son, Marks, also did—even though he had a daughter.”
Slei Walt was known as the first head of the family to die in battle, remembered as a noble general who covered a royal retreat alone against overwhelming odds.
But the man in front of me didn’t seem like that at all.
“You died before passing the mantle! You have any idea how much trouble that caused me?”
The next man, in more traditional noble garb and radiating hardship, was the fourth head, Marks Walt, who presided when the family became barons.
The fifth head, Fredrics Walt, let out a sigh. He was known as a notorious womanizer, with a wife and four mistresses—but his demeanor now didn’t match that reputation.
“Everyone struggles, huh? I did too, you know.”
Then the red-haired, wild-looking sixth head, Fynes Walt, nodded. He was known for employing underhanded tactics to raise the family to count status. My father used to grumble that Fynes’s legacy hurt the family’s image.
“Indeed. But to choose the successor based on a sword match... Broad, you sure your education didn’t fail?”
The seventh head, Broad Walt, was my grandfather.
“My son was excellent in my eyes. As far as I remember, Lyle was the heir, and Ceres was just being raised as a lady of the house...”
My ancestors were here, arguing in front of me. That alone made no sense.
The second head heard me out and gave his verdict.
“To be blunt... doesn’t this sound impossible?”
Everyone agreed.
“Yeah.”
“Exactly.”
“That idiotic son... I’d smack him too.”
Then the conversation came back to me. The fourth head, who had a similar “hardship aura” and wore glasses, asked a question.
“That’s the strange part. Even if Lyle lost, how talented was this Ceres girl, exactly?”
Reluctantly, I lowered my gaze. I didn’t want to remember—but I had to explain.
(Might as well do it here and get it over with.)
I began to describe my sister, Ceres.
She was two years younger, but she could master in hours what I took hundreds of hours to learn.
Most importantly...
“My sister is perfect. Not just academically, but she has this... aura, I guess.”
“Aura? And what do you mean, perfect? A female head is already a disadvantage—did she have something to counter that?”
The first head, now sitting cross-legged on the table, leaned in.
“Everyone’s drawn to her. At first, our parents paid attention to me. But after I turned ten, things started to change. The whole household gradually became centered around Ceres.”
That made the first head go quiet and thoughtful.
Then the fourth head resumed the discussion.
“So the people around her acknowledged that she was more gifted than Lyle? What do you think, Broad?”
My grandfather tilted his head.
“She was adorable as a granddaughter, sure, but that talented? I don’t think so. It just doesn’t add up.”
I agreed. When he was alive, the atmosphere at home was still normal. I never had a particularly bad relationship with my sister either.
Then the fifth head offered his thought.
“Around age seven or eight, the atmosphere started changing, huh. Maybe she manifested a Skill around then. It’s not uncommon for that to happen early.”
The third head countered.
“Maybe. But even if a Skill manifests, people often don’t notice. And they can’t usually use them properly until around age ten. Timing doesn’t quite match. Lyle here has also manifested a Skill, but he hasn’t realized it yet.”
Skills—a divine blessing different from magic, unique to each individual.
Each person typically has only one Skill, which they refine and develop. And it was said those glowing orbs recorded the Skills of past heads—
(Wait a second... I started hearing those voices clearly only after I got the orb from Zell’s hut.)
I looked up, the realization hitting me. The third head noticed.
“Yes, now you get it. Your Skill has manifested. The orb reacted and recorded it. That’s why we could speak with you.”
Surprised, I asked what my Skill was.
“Uh, what exactly is my Skill?”
“Not sure. But since it’s a blue orb, it’s probably a Support-type.”
Skills fall into three main types:
Frontline (Red Orbs): Combat-oriented
Rearline (Yellow Orbs): High-damage or magic support
Support (Blue Orbs): Utility and buffs
The Walt family had typically manifested Support-type Skills because they had blue orbs.
“So, I’m Support-type?”
“You sound disappointed. But during my time, Support-types were popular.”
Nowadays, high-firepower Skills are more valued, especially Rearline types.
“But back in my time, Frontline and Support-types were preferred,” my grandfather said.
“Really? Support-types were weak during my time,” added the second head.
The fourth head returned to the main topic.
“In short, it’s unlikely that Ceres’ Skill alone caused such a huge misjudgment in choosing the heir. So that means... Lyle just didn’t have what it takes?”
I had no words. I’d worked hard—but effort alone doesn’t make a leader worthy of an Earl’s house.
Still...
“It feels too unnatural. He’s not that bad. He even has loyal retainers now. If Lyle were that useless, they’d still choose him over a girl because of the politics.”
The fifth head pointed out that making a girl the head brings many disadvantages. There were houses where women led, but usually for circumstantial or traditional reasons.
In emergencies, heads of houses go to war. Few houses willingly send women to the battlefield.
“Broad, how about the retainers? Could they be backing Ceres to take over the house?”
The sixth head asked.
“There might be some ambitions,” my grandfather said, “but the retainers are lower-ranked. Even the highest, the Foxes family, is only a baron house. And they’ve never pulled anything like that—”
That’s when the second head reacted.
“Wait, what? The Foxes family is a retainer? What?! Seriously?!”
Even the first head jumped up.
“Foxes? As in, the neighboring Foxes family?! That’s Oyassan’s house!”
Oyassan? I didn’t get it.
The Foxes had always been our vassals—barons, but given part of our land.
The fourth head seemed just as confused.
But the fifth head replied calmly.
“So? They got promoted and were given surrounding lands. We let them keep ours because they didn’t want to move. Naturally, that made them retainers.”
That made the second head shout:
“You’ve got to be kidding! Do you realize how much those brothers helped us?! If it weren’t for the Foxes, we wouldn’t even exist!”
The fourth head turned to the fifth in disbelief.
“What is this? I told you they were important! To treat them with respect!”
“I did. I told Fynes to handle the promotions, didn’t I?”
The sixth head nodded.
“I did, yes.”
Listening to all this, I had only one thought:
(This is way too complicated. And... their voices are starting to fade...)
Then, I heard someone who wasn’t in that room:
“Lord Lyle?”
“Lord Lyle, we’re done.”
“Huh...? Oh, right.”
I woke up still sitting in a rocking chair. I must’ve fallen asleep from exhaustion.
Novem stood nearby, having washed my face and hair.
“You must’ve been tired. I washed and hung your underwear. It should be dry by tomorrow.”
“Thanks.”
I stood up but felt dizzy. Novem helped support me back to the room.
(Was that all a dream?)
Then I heard the first head’s voice again.
“Wait, what’s that girl’s last name? Something about her felt familiar...”
My grandfather responded.
“She’s the second daughter of the Foxes family. I didn’t expect her to become Lyle’s fiancée, considering the difference in status.”
“WHAAAAAAAAAT?!”
The first head screamed—very, very loudly.
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