Chapter 2: The First Hurdle
The Bartford manor is not a small manse. Though nowhere near as big as the ones inhabited by the likes of Dukes, Margraves, and Earls, the Bartford ancestral home is nonetheless a decently-sized building.
At its centerpiece is the Family Head’s office. It is located on the third floor of the manor, with windows that overlook the fields and estate docks, and comes complete with all the necessary decor that any respectable family head office would require. A desk, a coffee table, comfortable sofas, and decorated tastefully with various showpieces like fine china, ornaments, and portraits of past Family Heads or environs framed in well-crafted wooden frames.
In this office is Leon Fou Bartford and his father Barcus Fou Bartford.
“I’m guessing you pulled me from the usual field work to speak about something important?” Leon asks.
“Two matters, actually.” Barcus nods. “The first; I’ll be personally leading a force of ships to cull the local monster population.”
“We only have a handful of battle-worthy ships and barely enough munitions to carry out this cull.” Leon reminds him. “And we won’t have any significant Armor support, either. All our best Armors are with the trade fleet.”
“We still have a handful we can use. That’s better than nothing at all.” Barcus sighs. “Like it or not, the increasing frequency of these monster attacks poses an increasing risk to the barony. We have to sally out and eliminate it before anything worse comes to pass.”
Leon doesn’t wince or make any outward signs of distress. He knew this was not up to debate; the responsibility of defending the territory falls on the shoulders of the ruling family and its head, so Barcus wasn’t morally obligated to see his people safe, but also oathbound to it as the Baron of this land. While he could technically appoint someone else to lead it in his stead, well…
“Do you have to go?” Leon asks, despite already knowing the answer. “You can just appoint someone else to lead the force instead.”
“I could, but there’s no-one better for the task than me myself.” Barcus nods. “I appreciate the concern, son. But your old man isn’t going to keel over just yet.”
“You better not; mom would cry herself to sleep every night.” Leon says, and Barcus winces; knowing that his dear wife would do exactly that in the event of his demise. “Will you be taking anyone else?”
“You.” Barcus nods.
Leon blinks.
“Wha– really?” the younger Bartford gapes. “Why? Wouldn’t I be better off keeping the peace while you’re gone?”
“You’re much too young to entrust that sort of responsibility to.” Leon’s father snorts. “Besides, didn’t you always say you wanted to go on an adventure? Well, here’s your first taste of it.”
“I’ve been dungeon diving before, y’know.” Leon huffs.
“Supervised dungeon diving.” Barus corrected. “This will be a fight in the open skies instead, and you’ll see just how an actual battle plays out. It’ll be a good learning experience for you.”
Leos Klein’s memories resurface in Leon’s mind; of hard fought battles and routs-turned-massacres. Of fierce duels between ACs in the Arena and out on the battlefield. Of his battle against Hustler One and the Raven in Phobos. He compares that to this world’s weaponry, its magic, and current level of technology.
He snorts.
“Whatever you say, dad.” Leon grunts. “So I’ll be joining you in the monster cull. When are we leaving?”
“Soon, son.” he sighs. “But before we do, there’s the… other, important matter I wanted to talk to you about.”
Leon makes a curious sound and watches his father reach into his desk drawer, retrieving a heavy-looking envelope. The seal keeping it close has already been opened.
The younger Bartford shoots his father a look, but the older man’s expression does not change as he offers it to Leon. With a bracing breath, the young man takes the envelope and examines its contents; a short letter, a contract, and a picture of a woman older than his own mother dolled up in far too much make-up and an overly extravagant dress that looks much too tight on her overweight frame.
His past life’s memories help him suppress the sheer revulsion he feels at the sight of the picture, and he’s all too eager to turn his attention to the letter.
He reads quickly, efficiently, and goes it two more times to be absolutely sure that his eyes aren’t lying to him. Then he levels his father a look of honest betrayal, horror writ plain upon his youthful features. The older man sighs and looks away.
“An arranged marriage?” Leon whispers, brandishing the picture at his father. “To this?!”
“I know, I know.” Barcus starts. “No-one wants to be in that situation, but–”
“But nothing!” Leon snarls. “You know about the Forest of Old Ladies! You know I’m to be wedded off to some old hag who’ll send me to die out in some distant battlefield and reap the benefits of my death! To hell with that, and to hell with Zola for even suggesting this!” Leon throws the letter onto his father’s desk. “At least she could have had the decency to come here and tell this to me personally instead of just sending a damn letter!”
“Watch your tongue, brat!” Barcus barks. “Zola might not carry herself with the sort of distinction that a real noble should and the monster attacks might have gotten her to stay at the capital rather than visiting, but she is nonetheless of a higher rank than you and I! Show some respect!”
“I’ll show respect when she’s deserving of it!” Leon snarls, the man that was Leos Klein bleeding into him. “What has she done to deserve any kind of respect besides leech off of you like some kind of parasite? And all because of her family’s rank, one she inherited rather than work for!”
“You know damn well that men and women are not born equal, boy! Some have it easier than others, and some don’t! That’s life!” Barcus yells back. “You could have been born a commoner, you know! Instead you have the luxury of being a Baron’s son!”
“And yet I work in the fields like a commoner despite my supposed ‘luxury’!” Leon argues. “I till the soil, plant the crops, fight the monsters, and get derided by higher ranking people just like a commoner does! And not just me; but you, mother, Nicks, Collin, even Jenna and Finley! Sometimes I feel less like a member of the Holfortan nobility and more like a wealthy commoner with a fancy title!”
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Leon was no stranger to being talked down to, in this life or in his past as Leos Klein. And if it was just him, then he wouldn’t have cared; insults and names and derision were things he faced as a Raven working his way up the ranks in the Arena, when Raven’s Nest yet ruled.
That lack of care carried over to his new life as well, and insults from his step family were not worth thinking over too much when he had fields to till and crops to plant.
But insulting his family? The snide remarks to his mother and father? The blatant theft and parasitism of his father’s earnings by that bitch in her fancy red dress?
That was something neither Leon nor Leos could not let slide. Family was everything to him, and motivation enough for him to do things that no right-thinking person would even dream of doing.
After all, family was what drove him to destroy Hustler One.
“You live in Holfort.” Barcus says, stressing the country as though that alone would explain things. And it did, much to Leon’s growing distaste. “There are laws that can see you and people that associate with you punished if anyone heard you say that.”
“Then I’m just supposed to bow my head and nod and follow along?!” Leon demands, fury rising. “And this arranged marriage– is it going to take into account that I’m to go to the Royal Academy soon?”
“...It would be better and more expedient for both parties if you didn’t.” Barcus says, looking pained.
“Great! Fantastic!” Leon throws up his arms. “So not only am I going to be wedded off and sent to die, I’m going to be uneducated for the whole thing!”
Barcus watches his son with bone-deep weariness and slowly sags into his seat. Leon opens his mouth to say more, but pauses at the sight of his father looking a decade older than he actually was. The mix of pain, defeat, and bitter acceptance on his face made Leon’s own heart ache despite the rising fury and the outrage boiling his blood.
It was the look of a man who had expected the worst, who knew what was to come, but could do nothing to fix or change things. It was a look of self-directed disappointment and heartache, a parent who knew he’d failed his progeny. Leon knew that look; he’d seen it on mirrors as Leos Klein, in the dark days after he had lost his family.
“...it was either you or Collin.” Barcus admits. “I– I’m sorry, son.”
Leon takes a long moment to force down the rising anger, the dark impulses to lash out at the walls and scream his frustrations at the world. His father wasn’t to blame here, and the true perpetrator was not present; it would be a waste of energy and time anyway.
“Is there no way for me to make Zola cancel this contract?” Leon asks, despite already knowing the answer.
“The main reason this came to pass is due to our household’s rising debt situation. You know how… expensive high-ranking noblewomen lifestyles are.” Barcus nods. “Without money to continue funding her activities, she decided to take the initiative and…” he waves his hand at the letter and contract. “Do that.”
“So it all comes down to money.” Leon laughs, bitter and hollow. “How unsurprising.”
Life in the capital was not cheap, and noble ladies like Zola were prone to large expenditures; expensive clothes, pricey cosmetics, exotic foods, hiring pretty man-whores that they politely call ‘exclusive servants’ to attend to their every whim and desire. Most of the Bartford family’s income goes into fueling Zola’s extravagant lifestyle in the capital, with very little actually going into the land and developing it.
It made Leon angrier, to know that his family’s earnings were being robbed by this parasite. The part of him that used to be Leos Klein demanded this woman be eliminated, preferably permanently so his family wouldn’t ever have to put up with the likes of her again.
He takes a deep breath and exhales, forcing the anger to fade and using cold reason. As immediate of a solution that may be, it would attract unwanted attention and do more harm than good.
“...I’m sorry, son.” is all Barcus can say, interpreting Leon’s sigh as him managing to restrain himself at last.
Leon takes another deep breath and exhales slowly again, willing himself to calm down and force his dimming rage to cool completely as he thinks of various solutions to this issue. How could he gather enough money to buy his freedom from this arranged marriage non-sense? His family was already neck deep in debt and he didn’t want to trouble them any more than he already has.
He could go adventuring and dungeon diving, but the amount of money he’d make from that would be nowhere near enough to pay off the contract. And he didn’t have much to sell that would make a big enough profit…
The young reincarnated man brings a hand up to his face and rubs at the bridge of his nose. This was getting him nothing but headaches and gray hairs– and he wasn’t even twenty yet!
“When are we leaving for the monster culling?” he asks instead, trying to divert the topic to something less stressful.
“In one week’s time.” Barcus inclines his head. “Go prepare whatever you need. I’ll tell your mother about this development.”
“You know she’s going to be distraught.” Leon reminds him.
“I know, I know…” his father grunts. “But it is what it is. Go on then, get going.”
“Yessir.” Leon nods, about-faces, and walks out the room.
He keeps going until he’s back in his own room and locks his door. He puts his head in his hands as he goes to his bed and sits down, mind awash with thoughts. With a grunt, he dismisses them and reaches under his bed, pulling out a case that contained his personal arms; ones he’d commissioned and made himself.
He could worry about the marriage contract and getting out of it later; right now, he had a monster culling to prepare for.