4 - Seven Ancestors
At night, after falling asleep in a chair in the hallway, I found myself in a room I didn't recognize, meeting my ancestors.
How did I end up in this situation? I couldn't understand it myself.
"I mean..."
In the center of the room was a large round table, and we were sitting around it. The chairs were large, with the backrests extending above my head.
They were chairs befitting the luxurious interior, but there was something surreal about it. Blue, round orbs were embedded throughout the room as decorations.
A blue, glowing orb also existed in the center of the table.
"You're the one who messed up the education!"
"It wasn't me! For starters, House Wolt is patrilineal, and Riel had already been formally decided as the heir! It's absolutely not my fault! If I had been there, I would have punched my son into next week!"
A man in a barbarian style and my grandfather were fighting, grabbing each other.
At first glance, the barbarian-style man seemed to have the upper hand, but the reactions of those around them were cold. Leaving the two of them be, the conversation returned to me.
A man dressed like a hunter asked me for the explanation from earlier.
"Let's ignore those two noisy ones and continue the conversation. As it stands, Riel was supposed to become the ninth generation, but he lost to his younger sister, ceased to be the heir, and was kicked out of the house. Even that is quite problematic, but let's set that aside for now."
Just as he tried to move on, the barbarian-style man—the first generation of the local noble House Wolt, who had led the pioneer group, [First Generation, Basil Wolt]—interjected.
"Set it aside?! The next head of the house lost to a younger girl? Don't make me laugh!"
"You barbarian! What do you think you're saying about my grandson!"
My grandfather punched the first generation away, but the atmosphere around them remained cold.
However, the hunter-like man—[Second Generation, Crassel Wolt]—brushed it off with a cold demeanor.
"That's not the problem. Why don't you both sit down? ...Now, normally, our opinion would be not to let a girl inherit the headship. At the very least, regardless of how talented she might be, I wouldn't make a girl the head, nor was I taught to do so."
The third generation—[Third Generation, Slay Wolt]—who was sitting next to him, agreed with the second generation's opinion.
He was a person who wore clothes typical of a lower-ranking noble and gave off a somewhat frivolous impression.
"That's true. I actually became the head myself, and my son, Marks, had a daughter, but he was the head."
The third generation, Slay, was the first person in House Wolt to die in battle. However, the image I had heard was that of a righteous general who successfully served as the rearguard during the King's retreat.
He was a man said to have held off an army of ten thousand all by himself.
However, I felt no such impression from the person before me.
"You died in battle before you could pass it on! Do you have any idea how much I suffered because of that!"
This man also wore clothes typical of a noble. However, like the second generation, he radiated an aura of someone who had struggled through hardship.
[Fourth Generation, Marks Wolt] was the head when House Wolt became a baronial house.
And the fifth generation let out a sigh.
[Fifth Generation, Fredricks Wolt] was the greatest libertine in House Wolt. Apparently, in addition to his wife, he had four concubines.
However, contrary to that image, he didn't seem frivolous.
"Sigh, everyone has their hardships. I struggled as well, you know."
Then, the wild-looking sixth generation with red hair nodded. [Sixth Generation, Fines Wolt] was a person who had used dirty means to ensure the family became a count's house.
My father had complained that the image of the sixth generation was causing disadvantages for House Wolt.
"Indeed. But for the reason to make a daughter the head to be a duel of swordsmanship... Broad, you really didn't fail in his education, did you?"
[Seventh Generation, Broad Wolt] was my grandfather.
"My son was excellent, even from a parent's perspective. Besides, as far as I remember at the end, Riel was the next head, and Celes was educated strictly as a daughter of House Wolt..."
My ancestors were before me, arguing in front of me. This situation alone was incomprehensible.
The second generation listened to my story and reached a conclusion.
"To be blunt... isn't that just impossible?"
Those around him agreed with his casual words.
"Indeed."
"True."
"That idiot son... I'm going to punch him."
And then, the conversation returned to me. This time, the fourth generation, who wore glasses and radiated an aura of hardship like the second generation, asked me.
"That's what concerns me. Even if Riel lost, we don't know his actual ability. Was this Celes girl so overflowing with talent?"
Asked about Celes, I looked down. I didn't want to remember, but I suppose I had to explain.
(If I have to explain anyway, I might as well get it over with here.)
Thinking that, I explained about Celes.
That she was my younger sister by two years, and that she could do anything. Specifically, that she could master in a few hours what had taken me hundreds of hours to acquire—.
And the most important thing was—.
"My sister is perfect. Her studies are one thing, but more than that, it's her... atmosphere, if I can call it that..."
"Atmosphere? And what do you mean by 'perfect'? Having a woman as the head is a significant disadvantage. Was there something that compensated for that?"
The first generation, sitting cross-legged on the table in his barbarian attire, bit onto my words.
"...Everyone is drawn to her. Even my parents looked at me at first. But around the time I turned ten, the atmosphere became strange—. And then, the atmosphere of the mansion gradually shifted to center around Celes."
When I said that much, the first generation fell silent and sank into thought.
Then, the fourth generation took charge of the situation and began the conversation.
"In other words, those around her recognized that she had more talent than Riel? How is that, Seventh Generation Broad-kun?"
My grandfather tilted his head.
"No, she was certainly cute since she's my granddaughter, but as for whether it went that far... It really is impossible."
My grandfather denied it. I agreed. While my grandfather was alive, the atmosphere in the mansion had been normal.
I hadn't been particularly on bad terms with my sister, either.
Then, the fifth generation spoke up.
"The atmosphere started changing around age seven or eight, huh. Then it's possible a skill manifested. It wouldn't be strange for it to happen around that time at the earliest."
The third generation said something negative in response to that opinion.
"I wonder. In many cases, people don't notice even if one manifests. Even if it does, it's usually around age ten at the earliest before they can actually use it. In that case, the timing is a bit tight, isn't it? It seems Riel himself has a skill that manifested, but he hasn't noticed it yet."
[Skill]—that is one of the blessings given by God to the humans living in this world, different from magic.
As a rule, one person is given one, and humans have fought by polishing those skills.
Of course, it was possible to reproduce them through technique. After all, the orb I received also contained the skills of successive heads—.
(Wait a minute. The time I started hearing that voice was when I was being looked after in Zel's hut, right? And then, I started hearing it clearly... from the moment I received the orb.)
When I realized this and looked up, the third generation spoke, as if he had finally noticed. Then, he informed me that a skill had manifested in me.
"It hasn't taken a proper shape yet, but the orb is reacting and preserving the skill. That's why we, who were recorded in the orb, were able to react."
To the surprisingly knowledgeable third generation, I asked to confirm what kind of skill I had manifested.
"Um, what exactly is my skill?"
"I'm not sure about that. But since blue orbs manifest [Support-type] skills, I think it's a support-type."
Skills are broadly divided into three types.
The [Vanguard-type], which are skills centered on close-quarters combat. These are said to be manifested by red orbs.
Yellow orbs contain skills called [Rearguard-type].
Blue is apparently for support-type.
While skills are classified into these three types, it seems that in the past, the direction was decided to some extent by the orb.
The reason House Wolt had manifested support-type skills was apparently because they possessed the blue orb.
"...In that case, am I also a support-type?"
"You sound dissatisfied. But in my time, support-types were popular."
The third generation said, seeing my dissatisfied face.
In the current era, rearguard-type skills are preferred, with a focus on high firepower.
But—.
"In my time, vanguard and support types were the way, and rearguard types were unfortunate."
When my grandfather said that, the second generation also tilted his head, as if he had a doubt.
"In my time, support-types were unfortunate. Does it differ by era?"
Then, the fourth generation brought the derailed topic back.
"Anyway, the possibility that a girl named Celes manifested some kind of skill and that's why House Wolt made a wrong judgment is low. In that case, it means Riel truly lacked the capacity to be the head."
When told that, I was speechless. I had worked desperately, but just because I worked hard doesn't mean I'm suited to be the head.
If I'm told I lack the talent suitable to lead House Wolt, which has become a count's house, that's the end of it.
But—.
"But it's too unnatural. Judging by his responses, he's not that terrible. He even has reliable vassals now, even if Riel is unreliable, it's normal for a boy to be chosen as the head. Even if a girl named Celes is overflowing with talent, there are too many disadvantages to making her the head."
The fifth generation calmly stated that there are disadvantages to making a girl the head. In reality, there are houses where women serve as the head.
However, the main reasons are acting as a proxy or following family customs. It's not uncommon for a matrilineal house to make a boy the head, but the reverse is rarely heard.
After all, if something happens, the head may have to go to war.
Few houses would send a woman to such a place. I won't say there are none, but they are still a minority.
"Broad, how are the vassals? Is there a house plotting a takeover by elevating Celes?"
At the sixth generation's opinion, my grandfather sank into thought.
"I can't say there are none, but their status is different from the vassals. It would be impossible to take over by marrying in. The highest-ranking house is the baronial House Foxus, but they've never done such a thing since long ago..."
Then, the second generation reacted.
"Eh? House Foxus is a vassal? Eh! Eeeeeee!!"
And the first generation, who had been thinking, stood up and began to panic.
"Foxus... is that them! House Foxus of the neighboring territory!? That's the Old Man's house!"
Old Man? I didn't understand.
Since long ago, House Foxus has been a vassal of House Wolt. They are in a position called sub-vassals. They hold a baronial title, but it's in the form of being granted territory from House Wolt, their main house.
The fourth generation was also flustered.
However, the fifth generation—.
"What about it? After all, we received surrounding territories upon our promotion in rank. Since House Foxus was reluctant to move, we took the form of granting them territory, so isn't it a natural flow for them to become vassals?"
But the second generation shouted at this.
"Don't joke around! Do you have any idea how much we were helped by the big brothers! You lot, if House Foxus hadn't been in the neighboring territory, you wouldn't be here right now!"
While the second generation emphatically explained how much they had been helped, the fourth generation also asked the fifth generation in surprise.
"What do you mean? I told you, didn't I? That we were helped very much, so we should value the relationship!"
To that, the fifth generation answered calmly.
"Yes, that's why I told Fines to handle the procedures for the promotion in rank. He did, right?"
When the fifth generation confirmed with the sixth generation, the sixth generation nodded.
"Well, I did."
Listening to this exchange, I thought.
(This is somehow very complicated. Or rather, the voices are gradually fading...)
Then, the voice of a person who wasn't here sounded.
"Riel-sama?"
"Riel-sama, it's already finished."
"Eh... yeah."
Waking up, it seemed I had been sleeping while sitting in a rattling chair. Perhaps because I was tired, I had slept soundly.
Novem, who had wiped my body and washed my head, was standing there.
"You must have been exhausted. I've washed your undergarments in hot water and hung them to dry. They should be dry by tomorrow."
"Ah, thanks."
As I stood up, my legs felt wobbly. Novem supported my body and led me to the room.
(Was everything until now a dream?)
As I was thinking that, the first generation's voice sounded.
"Wait a minute... what's this child's surname? I've been wondering about it. The atmosphere is somehow..."
Then, my grandfather's voice sounded.
"She's grown quite a bit, but she's the second daughter of House Foxus. I never thought she would become Riel's fiancée. After all, the family ranks are different."
"Naaaaaaaaaa!!"
The first generation let out a scream. It was a very loud voice, but it seemed Novem couldn't hear it.
"...It wasn't a dream."
When I muttered, Novem tilted her head.
"What is the matter, Riel-sama?"
However, the fatigue was even worse than before. I was more tired than a moment ago, and even walking was a chore. I hadn't imagined I was this exhausted.
When Novem led me to the bed, I lay down and fell asleep just like that. The last thing I heard was Novem's gentle voice.
As I lay down, she covered me with a blanket.
"Good night, Riel-sama."