Lord of Caldera

Gordon was heading to the count's office. He had heard everything worth hearing, so he needed to convey it to his master.

However, he still had some lingering doubts.

'Is it really the truth?'

Roderick's story was suitable to be called an adventure without exaggeration. He had nearly died in a trap.

He was saved by the young master during a fateful encounter.

Coincidentally, Gaiden had come with mercenaries and dramatically punished the town. There was even a battle with a troll, and Sylas had taken it down with an arrow.

There were too many incidents for just finding one person.

'If it weren't for Roderick, I would have thought it was a ridiculous story.'

From the beginning, Gordon had thought it was unusual, but this was a bit excessive. It was comparable to the childhoods of legendary heroes from epic stories. It was easy to understand why Roderick was so captivated.

Upon reaching the office, Gordon cautiously knocked on the door.

"Count, it's Gordon."

"Come in."

With permission, the door to the office opened. A middle-aged man with purple eyes and dark brown hair. He was Bill Corleone, the head of the prestigious Corleone family.

Count Bill put down the documents he had been reading and turned his gaze to Gordon.

"I heard you found my son. What happened?"

"He seemed fatigued from his travels, so I guided him to his guest room. I would like to schedule a meeting for tomorrow afternoon."

"Please do so. I must meet him first."

The count let out a deep sigh. It was a sigh of relief, as if the weight pressing down on his shoulders had been lifted, not one of distress. At last, he could fulfill his responsibilities as a father.

"What do you think of him?"

"Are you referring to the young master?"

"Indeed. I've heard he was raised among commoners; is he at least somewhat presentable?"

Even as he asked, the count didn't have particularly high expectations. People are shaped by their environment. If he was raised as a commoner, it was likely he would act like one.

'He will need to be taught a lot to live as a noble.'

The count had already drawn that conclusion in advance. However, contrary to the count's expectations, Gordon had a vague expression on his face.

"To be honest, I find it hard to say."

"What do you mean?"

"I heard the story from Sir Roderick, who brought him here…"

Gordon repeated Roderick's explanation exactly as he had just heard it. When the long story concluded, the count stared blankly with his mouth agape.

"Is that really true? Are you sure it's not a misunderstanding or something made up?"

"Lord Roderick said so. At the very least, he's not someone who would lie."

"That's true. He's a true knight who values chivalry above all else."

The count was well aware of Roderick. Despite his young age, he was a rare loyal knight these days. He might embellish his emotions, but he would never exaggerate or fabricate anything.

"Ah, so that means all of it is true.

The corners of the count's mouth twitched. Even though he hadn't seen his child's face, wasn't he showing a glimpse of a hero? As a father, he couldn't help but feel an inexplicable joy.

"No matter how much he was raised among commoners, it means the blood of a dragon cannot be hidden."

"Ahem. Well, if he's my child, then that's how it should be."

At the count's flattering words, he cleared his throat to hide his emotions. Just then, rapid footsteps approached from outside the office.

"Dear!"

With a bang, the door was thrown open by Countess Helena. Even in her middle age, she still retained her beauty. However, the sharpness of her raised eyebrows and the frequent frowning had created wrinkles that marred her looks.

"Madam, what is the matter?"

"I heard! That lowborn brat has come, hasn't he?"

The count frowned at Helena's words.

"Watch your words. Although he was born outside, he is still my child."

"Is that something to be proud of? That you rolled around with another woman and created a bastard?"

"Ahem, cough!"

The count kept clearing his throat at Helena's blunt remarks. He knew he was entirely responsible for that part. Since he had not been faithful to his family, he had to accept his wife's resentment.

"There's no need for long talk. Get that brat out of here at once."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Why is it unreasonable to send a commoner back to where commoners live? You're not planning to raise him as a noble, are you?"

"No, I am."

"Are you insane? Do you want to tarnish the family with lowborn blood?"

The count frowned at Helena, who was pressing him with furious eyes. No matter what, this was too much.

"I told you he's my child."

"I can't accept that. That's just your own mistake…"

"Helena!"

The count's furious shout made Helena flinch. No matter how deep the resentment of a woman may be, it could not match the pressure of a knight who had spent decades on the battlefield. The count looked straight into Helena's eyes and spoke clearly.

"Surely I have been negligent to my family. That is my fault and my mistake, and you have every right to blame me for it."

"Well…"

"But at the same time, I bear the responsibility of being a father. That is separate from the wrongs I've done to you, and it's not something you should meddle in. Keep that in mind."

Helena bit her lip at the count's firm words. Bill, the count, was indeed someone who clung to responsibility and duty. The moment he recognized raising the bastard as his responsibility, it was clear that nothing she said would matter.

"Fine. Then I'll meet that boy as well."

"You?"

"Is that a problem? I'm the lady of the Corleone family. If you're going to bring a new family member, I have the right to meet him."

"Hmm."

The count frowned, but he couldn't deny her words. She wasn't wrong.

"Very well. But if that's the case, then that child is already family. Don't try to act as if you have authority while breaking your own word."

"Of course."

Though she agreed verbally, Helena's true feelings were different. While she couldn't prevent him from entering the family, she had no intention of treating him as family.

'I'll make him wish he had lived as a commoner instead.'

It might not be easy for a knight who had experienced all kinds of battles on the battlefield, but it was easy to handle a mere fifteen-year-old boy.