Returning to his estate, Victor went straight into the library and collapsed into an armchair. He had been so tense during lunch that he could barely eat. It was important not to show any signs of worry because it might have raised questions or even led someone to check on his health.
Only now did he feel himself relax as he leaned back in the chair, gazing at the ceiling. Surprisingly, he found himself thinking about improving the land, planning its development, and raising the standard of living for people.
In reality, this wasn't a difficult task since most people were extremely poor, with bread sometimes being considered a luxury.
On his way here, he saw great opportunities offered by this world. He had no desire to become king, emperor, or hero. But what he really wanted was to enjoy his wealth without feeling guilty towards these people.
It's one thing when you live luxuriously among those who can't afford such comforts but aren't starving, quite another to feast while plague rages outside your door.
He clearly envisioned his future in this world: living well, marrying a beautiful woman, perhaps more than one. Why not? This world allowed it, and life as a knight was very long, especially if you reached higher levels, extending lifespan accordingly. Finally, possess enough power so that even an emperor would think thrice before confronting him.
Victor didn't intend to radically change the foundations of this society; he simply wished to improve people's lives somewhat. If they eventually chose progress themselves, he wouldn't interfere, but bringing freedom, equality, etc., wasn't part of his plan.
"Equality doesn't exist anywhere. What nonsense is this talk of equality? Deception everywhere! In my previous life, where was there ever true equality? Ninety-seven percent of humanity lived essentially enslaved under a new aristocracy called 'billionaires,' who removed titles but remained rich anyway, with nothing changing fundamentally."
While lost in thought, Lulu came in to announce that a gift from the count had arrived. Overjoyed, Victor jumped up from his seat and rushed out to the hall, finding a palace servant holding a pouch and a box.
As soon as he appeared, the servant bowed respectfully and handed over the items to a maidservant, but Victor quickly intercepted them and took possession, heading back inside. Ignoring the surprised looks of servants unfamiliar with such behavior, he returned to the library and closed the door behind him.
Sitting down again, he placed the objects on the table before opening the bag first. Inside lay a thousand gold coins. Seeing money relieved much of his stress since earlier he'd worried how to pay the jeweler, yet now that problem vanished. Taking out a coin worth ten gold pieces, he studied it closely, weighing it in his hand.
Gold coins here existed in three varieties: regular ones, slightly larger coins equivalent to ten gold each, and finally coins representing a thousand gold units. The differences between them weren't significant except for magical spells sealed within by royal mages, ensuring their authenticity.
Counterfeiting these coins was prohibitively expensive and complicated, making it economically unfeasible given the high costs involved.
Putting aside the money, he moved closer to examine the small chest next. Opening it revealed a vial containing blue liquid glowing faintly. Having no idea what it was, he noticed a note lying beside it.
Taking hold of the letter, he opened it and read the count's handwriting.
"Dear son," it began, "this is an elixir of life."
Instantly curious, Victor searched through memories inherited from the body's original owner, recalling only rumors surrounding this mysterious substance.
The elixir supposedly acted like an artifact, benefiting common folk and serfs. Effective only for individuals below iron rank, it extended life expectancy significantly. However, it provided no boosts in mana capacity or strength beyond iron-level magicians.
Created by an alchemist seeking to prolong ordinary human life, it became rare due to exorbitantly costly ingredients which made it inaccessible to commoners. According to legend, the alchemist disappeared shortly after introducing the elixir.
"Of course he disappeared! Who'd allow proof that peasants are just as capable of longevity as nobles? It's fundamental to maintaining belief in noble superiority. I imagine his death must've been horrific to discourage others from similar efforts."
Holding the flask, Victor examined its contents. Had he truly been the count's legitimate heir, this potion might have granted him additional years, but since it wouldn't affect him personally, it held little value compared to plain water.
Suddenly overcome by sadness, something heavy pressed against his heart. A profound sense of loss washed over him, tears streaming down his cheeks. An intense grief engulfed him as though he'd suddenly lost everything dear to him, yet simultaneously felt relief.
"You waited thirteen years for just one glance from your father, didn't you, Victor?" he whispered inwardly. "A boy without a mother to embrace him or a father to pat his head and praise his achievements. Your father loved you, likely fearful that attention drawn toward you endangered your safety, unfortunately leading to your demise nonetheless."
Addressing these thoughts internally, hoping the former soul could hear and find peace.
Recalling a distant childhood memory on Earth, he remembered sitting on his mother's lap, listening intently to her heartbeat, trying vainly to synchronize his own breath with hers until sleep overtook him.
This tender recollection lingered warmly even today, vividly remembering every beat of her heart.
"What does it mean to grow up without a mother? I've complained mine died too early, but you never got the chance to see yours."
Wiping away tears, Victor rose from the chair, shaking his head side-to-side, attempting to dispel melancholy thoughts. Afterward, placing the flask back in the box, he approached bookcases, picked up a random volume, then settled once more into the chair.
The book recounted tales of knights' travels and adventures, but reading served merely as distraction. Unnoticed, he immersed himself fully in its pages.
Over subsequent days, he occupied all available time studying books and examining inventory. Yet as departure neared, anxiety grew stronger, exacerbated by the fact that the jeweler still hadn't delivered his commissioned work.
Finally, on the day of departure, impatience won out. Summoning his knight, Victor decided to visit the jeweler directly.
Half an hour later, they stood together on a bustling trade street housing jewelry workshops.
Here, it's essential to understand that stores selling clothing, groceries, jewelry, etc., don't exist in this realm. Each tradesman sets up shop downstairs, effectively operating right from home. Jewelry craftsmen function similarly to shoemakers seen elsewhere.
Upon arrival, guided by the knight pointing out the workshop location, Victor strode confidently forward, bursting open the door. Inside, a dimly lit room greeted him, resembling more a blacksmith's workspace minus the furnace, tools scattered across surfaces.
In the twenty-square-meter chamber sat an elderly man hunched over a desk facing away from the entrance.
— Good afternoon, — Victor greeted politely, drawing the old man's attention.
— My lord, forgive me—I completely forgot the time, — the man replied sheepishly upon turning around. —Your order is nearly complete; please accept my apologies. I didn't anticipate how challenging the gem cutting process would be.
With these words, he retrieved the necklace from the tabletop and presented it to Victor.
From afar, it was evident the gems had transformed. Specifically, they glowed with soft white light, shimmering brilliantly whenever touched, creating breathtaking displays of sparkle escaping periodically from the stones.
— My lord, concentration gems are exceedingly rare; may I ask…? — The craftsman asked humbly, kneeling afterward.
Mesmerized by the beauty unfolding before him, Victor realized belatedly that the elder had addressed him.
— You're free to question; I'll decide whether to respond, — Victor declared calmly, continuing to inspect the piece.
— Lordship, I'm aware my request might seem presumptuous, but even risking punishment, I must try, — stammered the artisan nervously. — My grandson has dangerously low mana reserves. I've heard stories suggesting concentration gems can increase one's abilities, thus I'd beg you sell several to me. I'll gladly exchange anything I own for them.
At these words, the man dropped to his knees awaiting response.
Victor hesitated momentarily, acknowledging both the preciousness of the gems and the urgency conveyed by the plea. Nevertheless, he knew that despite this challenge, the boy's chosen profession ensured a comfortable life ahead regardless.
— Tell me why this matters so deeply? Isn't his current situation sufficient? — Victor probed gently, devoid of arrogance.
— My lord, the child dreams of becoming a knight—it's his greatest aspiration, impossible for me to dissuade him, — explained the older man tearfully. — His parents perished when struck by a carriage. He's all I have left, and fulfilling his dream means everything to me.
Recognizing the validity of this argument, typical in this society, Victor understood further implications: achieving knighthood represented social mobility, offering entry into nobility. Mentioning the incident briefly suggested broader concerns, knowing commoners avoided probing details lest they invite trouble.
— Bring him here, — ordered Victor decisively.
Obeying immediately, the senior citizen rose from his knees, wiping away tears as he hastened offstage. Two minutes passed before returning accompanied by a young boy, whom he led by the hand.
No older than seven or eight, the boy possessed clear blue eyes, fair hair, and an innocent round face.
Stepping closer, Victor bent down onto one knee, mindful of subtle movements behind him signaling restraint urged by his guard.
— What's your name? — he queried softly.
— I'm Arthur, milord, — answered the boy boldly, catching everyone off-guard due to his surprising confidence.
— Why do you wish to become a knight? — posed Victor, posing what seemed naïve yet genuine curiosity. Knowing full well adults rarely offer honest answers, he sought clarity from the child's perspective.
— If I become a knight, I can embark on exciting journeys and fight dragons! — responded the boy enthusiastically.
Taken aback by the answer, Victor glanced alternately between the boy and the anxious grandfather, whose visible distress indicated fatigue brought on by futile attempts to sway the stubborn lad.
— Would you consider serving as my squire? — proposed Victor impulsively, prompting immediate action from the child.
"Yes," declared Arthur proudly, lifting his chin defiantly.
Alganis couldn't contain himself anymore, stepping forward urgently to address his master.
— My lord, please reconsider! How can we entrust our security and lives to a peasant-born squire?
— Alganis, I've already made my decision. As captain, you'll train and raise him yourself, — insisted Victor firmly.
By taking on this boy as personal attendant, Victor essentially adopted him into Alganis' household.
Such arrangements weren't uncommon here; adopted children received limited rights but gained official recognition as noble descendants. Families often exchanged offspring via adoption to prevent lineage extinction.
Observing his lord's determination, Alganis relented, addressing the boy directly.
— I want you to become my son. Do you agree? — he asked sincerely.
For the first time hesitating, the boy looked uncertainly toward his grandfather.
Seeing this hesitation, Victor intervened reassuringly.
— Don't worry; your grandfather will accompany us to my domain, — he added kindly.
Touched by this gesture, the old man fell to his knees sobbing gratefully, dropping teardrops onto the floor.
— I agree, — confirmed the boy resolutely.
Smiling fondly at this miniature warrior displaying bravery exceeding many adult men, Victor issued final instructions to the elder, informing him they'd collect them along the return route before departing the workshop.
Their convoy awaited departure orders, delayed further due to missing bracelet completion. Despite retrieving only the necklace, Victor opted not to wait longer, swiftly mounting his horse and galloping after the caravan ahead.