“…Well now, Van. You’ve gone and built another outrageous thing.”
Murcia walked up, half-dumbfounded, gazing at the fortress. Coming from the Wolfsburg mountain side meant passing through two smaller keeps before circling around to the main gate—it took twenty minutes even at a good pace. If you actually tried to storm your way through everything? Even five thousand knights would have trouble.
Maybe that reality had sunk in, because Murcia kept looking around, visibly impressed.
“That largest, unusual-looking castle at the center—that’s the main keep, right? Some fortresses do connect towers, but I’ve never seen anything this intricate. And that construction style—raising a castle on top of the walls? Unheard of. Admittedly, deploying troops in formation might be difficult, but as a purely defensive stronghold, it’s ingenious.”
Sharp observations, coming from gentle, mild-mannered Murcia. Maybe he had a better head for military matters than I gave him credit for—or maybe his sheer diligence had sharpened his perspective. Either way, had I really been my apparent age, I doubt I’d have managed half that analysis just by looking.
It wasn’t that Dad’s evaluation of him was too low. No—it was that Murcia was really that capable.
I nodded. “Right? By the way, what brings you here today?”
He gave a dry laugh and scratched awkwardly at his neck.
“…It’s complicated. Father ordered me to assist you.”
“What, with city construction?”
I blinked. But Murcia shook his head, looking a little pained.
“No… I misspoke. It seems I’ve been struck from the list of heirs. Officially, Father said it was at His Majesty’s behest, but who knows. In truth, all I was told is to aid you—no goal, no time frame, nothing.”
He gave a sigh, self-deprecating smile and all. So, just like me, he’d essentially been pushed out of the marquisate. After devoting his life to becoming the heir, suddenly to lose his purpose—that had to cut deep.
And then to be ordered to “assist the youngest sibling”? No wonder his pride had been dealt a mortal blow.
I couldn’t think of what to say, but he quickly waved it off with a wry grin.
“No, Van, don’t misunderstand—I don’t blame you. You have tremendous talent, and you’ve worked hard. So, if I must, then I’d rather spend this time learning and experiencing things under you.”
“Murcia-nii…”
The man practically radiated sainthood with a line like that. I had to squint like he was shining too brightly. Because if it were me in his shoes? I’d already be composing the most theatrical rant against Dad imaginable.
But Murcia—Murcia was different. He’d always been the one family member kind to me. This was a chance. A chance for some brotherly payback of the good sort.
I looked him straight in the eye.
“…Thank you, brother. As it happens, I’ve been looking for someone to serve as lord of this castle.”
“Eh? Lord of the castle?”
He blinked, then glanced up at the towering keep atop its stone foundation.
“…You don’t mean that castle?”
He pointed with a strained expression. I just grinned and nodded, launching into my explanation.
“Exactly! Reinforcements from the Seat village knights are already en route. At first, it’ll just be merchants passing through, but settlers and adventurers will soon follow. The population will pass two thousand in no time. After that, this city will serve as a springboard to reclaim territory from Yerineta. I’d like you to establish the Murcia Knights, and lead as the commander of this fortress-city!”
“M-Murcia Knights!?”
He stared at me wide-eyed. But of course—this was no mere deputy position. With manpower so scarce, I couldn’t afford to waste him.
I pressed on, persuasive mode engaged.
“Yes. You have the training and experience, both in governance and military command. You’ve inherited the martial knowledge of the Feltio house itself. That makes you perfect for a fortress meant to withstand sieges. I want you to use this as a foundation to one day raise your own house!”
“E-Eh!? Found my own house? Surely I lack that kind of ability…”
“Why sell yourself short? I’ve always thought you’d make a far better head than Father.”
“…R-Really? I don’t know about that…”
He gave a troubled smile, but I could see it—the little gleam of pride breaking through. Good. Excellent. Time to secure my brother with some good old sibling-flavored emotional manipulation.
“This is where your legend begins, Murcia-nii!”
“…Legend? What are you even saying?”
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