Chapter 3: The War Between Father and Son

Chapter 3: The War Between Father and Son

On the early morning of the second day after Bran began to speak, the Duke’s tall figure appeared at the door of Bran’s bedroom. He handed a Wooden Sword, made overnight, to Bran who had just opened the door.

After a moment of silence, Bran reached out and took the Wooden Sword, but he never looked up at his father. This made the Duke, who had been excited all night, sigh helplessly. He reached out and patted Bran’s head, then turned and left. As the Duke of the Northlands, he had too many matters to handle and could not devote all his energy to Bran. Since Bran could speak, perhaps this child would slowly get better. Thinking this, a faint smile appeared on the Duke’s face.

But this expectation did not last long. In the following days, the Duke did not see the excited figure swinging a Wooden Sword as he had hoped. The one who appeared in the courtyard every day was still that clean, daydreaming idiot son.

On the evening when the black cat Huahua occupied a chair at the dinner table, the Duke followed Bran into his bedroom. Facing this silent child, the Duke felt at a loss. He sighed inwardly, holding little hope for the upcoming conversation. But as a father, one always does hopeless things for their child. What matters is not the result, but the choice.

Looking down at Bran, the Duke slowly said, “According to the tradition of the Northlands, when a Knight sworn to the family returns to the Castle, they dine with the head of the household. This stems from the oath: by my hearth, you shall have a place; of my daily food, you shall have a share. Therefore, the simple daily meal represents duty and honor.”

After a brief pause, the Duke continued, “Today, you brought a Lynx to the dinner table, so you must prove you have the right to let the Lynx sit there. And only by becoming a Knight does one have the right to designate an Attendant to share meals.” Having said this, the Duke glanced around, reached over to the corner by the door, took the Wooden Sword, and held it before Bran’s eyes.

Bran hesitated for a moment, then reached out and took the Wooden Sword. He lifted his head, which had been lowered since entering the room, looked into the Duke’s eyes, and said softly, “Actually, I wanted to become a Scholar. But since you need a physically strong Knight, then I’ll become a Knight.”

Under the Duke’s astonished gaze, Bran raised the sword and performed a standard Knight’s salute to him. Then, lowering the sword tip, he lightly touched the Black Cat at his feet and said, “My Attendant will share dinner with me.”

Coming back to his senses, the Duke let out a hearty laugh and gave Bran a hug. It was a hug that made Bran feel somewhat suffocated, but the feeling wasn’t bad—it was solid and warm.

That night, after leaving Bran’s room, the Duke’s laughter echoed through the Castle…

Bran’s easy days were over. Woken early in the morning, Bran jogged slowly around the square in front of the Castle. A small kitten staggered on its short legs, trying hard to keep up with his steps and letting out tender mews. Helplessly, Bran turned back, picked up the kitten, and placed it on his shoulder. After completing his morning exercise, Bran finished breakfast amidst his mother’s urging to eat more. His mother’s favoritism once again sparked all sorts of envy and jealousy from his siblings…

Bran’s daily routine changed from sleeping, eating, and daydreaming to sleeping, training, eating, and daydreaming. And as the Duke began to realize his son was a child with a normal mind, daydreaming became intolerable behavior in the Duke’s eyes. A dialogue between father and son began again.

“You said last time you wanted to become a Scholar?”

“Yes.”

“Actually, becoming a Scholar is quite good too.”

“…”

Bran’s daily routine began to change to sleeping, training, eating, studying, and daydreaming…

With the self-discipline of an adult, Bran did not find it too difficult to handle the training and studies designed for a child. Of course, aside from Knight skill training, a mature mind could not bring physical advantages. The growth of the body was still a relatively long process. But the perseverance brought by a mature mind was enough for Bran to persist through the initial training until this body fully adapted.

There were too many known and unknown things in this world. If one wished, one could always find plenty of knowledge to learn. This made Bran spend less and less time standing dazedly at the Castle gate.

The Duke was now satisfied, and also dissatisfied. He was satisfied to find Bran becoming more normal day by day, and the communication between father and son growing smoother. He was dissatisfied because the child would always appear at the Castle gate with a dazed look, and now he had a Black Cat accompanying him in his daze. Because Bran and the black cat Huahua were inseparable, the Idiot of the Duke’s family went from one to a pair…

Holding an attitude that too many words might lead to mistakes, Bran, who had too many secrets, could still be described as quiet and reserved. But in the arguments between father and son, his change was also evident. Although he was still the dull-witted Idiot in his siblings’ eyes, he could now engage in some simple verbal exchanges. And with the black cat Huahua, Bran at least no longer felt lonely. He finally had someone to confide in, a partner who could keep secrets. This gradually pulled him back from the brink of collapse.

Time always passed quickly. Over a year flashed by in an instant. The black cat Huahua was no longer the tiny little thing that needed to cling to Bran’s shoulder. It could now keep up with Bran’s jogging pace, and a factor called wildness had begun to show in its demeanor.