The effect of Skills — Speed.
It increases movement speed. Simply put, it boosts your movement velocity, but the rate of increase varies significantly depending on my own capabilities.
Back when I first obtained it, the boost was only around twenty or thirty percent, but now I could push it to nearly double. The catch was that doing so consumed far more mana, but even so, I managed to reach the port of Galleria within a range my increased mana reserves could handle.
When I disembarked at the port, work had progressed considerably since my last visit. As I watched cargo being unloaded from the ship, Leold — surrounded by Galleria's knights — waved at me.
"Lord Rael!"
The young man, who was younger than me and had once been considered unreliable enough that even the knights distrusted him, had now built up a respectable record and commanded the respect of those around him.
After the sudden, rules-be-damned serious battle between Galleria and Rusworth, he had earned minor but real battlefield honors — and since then, he'd been making his mark in Galleria's domestic affairs.
He had even been appointed as the port development director.
"It's been a while. How many months has it been? No, wait — maybe just about a month?"
As I tried to recall the last time we'd met, Leold gave a wry smile.
"Less than two months, actually. My sister couldn't arrange her schedule and wasn't able to come this time."
Gracia — Galleria's Acting Sovereign — apparently had envoys from the Four-Nation Alliance to meet with and couldn't get away.
"Rolfis, was it?"
When I confirmed which nation had sent the envoys, Leold nodded.
The port was brisk with ocean wind, a bit chilly. We were led by Leold to the accommodations that had been arranged for us.
There were many temporary structures, and the sounds of workers carrying on their labor echoed all around. It felt full of energy.
Leold spoke to me.
"The new head of House Traus from Baim has shown up. I turned him away like you asked, but... I couldn't help feeling a little sorry for him."
Seeing Leold looking slightly uneasy, from within the Jewel, the Third Generation spoke in a tone lower than usual.
"Yeah, what a good kid. But see, when you do things like that, it puts us in a tough spot. We already had Fidel-kun work hard for us, and we're going to keep asking him to, so we'd like to honor our promises with him — consider this a reward, in a way…"
We had used him for our own purposes, of course, but for the successive heads still lingering inside the Jewel, Leold apparently came across as a dazzling presence.
If I said the same thing, they'd call me "soft" or lecture me about "the survival of the fittest," yet with Leold they went easy. They were probably feeling as though he was showing them the purity they themselves had lost.
In truth, Leold was the straightforward sort.
"I do have my own reasons to be cautious, that's true. Anyway, it'd be best to keep your distance from Baim for now. It looks like Banseim has declared war, and they won't make their move until after autumn passes — probably winter."
Even a great nation like Banseim needed a massive army to take Baim. And the bulk of any army was made up of commoners.
Autumn was harvest season, and being such a large nation, there were also subtle differences in timing across regions. Moving a huge army meant securing food supplies, and of course, manpower too.
During such a busy season, they wouldn't move — or even if they did, we figured they wouldn't be able to conquer Baim.
If, however — Ceres made her move, it would be convenient for us not to be in Baim. I had already told Vera to flee if Ceres mobilized.
Leold folded his arms, lost in thought.
"…Will Banseim really move? In terms of sheer numbers, their forces would be smaller than the army of Monsters that flooded into Baim last time. Won't they try to hold them at Redant Fortress?"
Inside the Jewel, the Fifth Generation dismissed Leold's speculation.
"Monsters and humans are different. Sure, the piercing power of a Monster horde is terrifying, but I'd say humans are scarier than Monsters, honestly. …Redant Fortress will probably fall in the early stages."
I relayed the Fifth Generation's opinion to Leold. The fortress had been prepared for a war between Baim and Banseim, but we never expected it would actually hold.
"No, Redant Fortress will be breached pretty early on."
"Huh? But it's the fortress that held back a swarm of tens of thousands of Monsters, isn't it? I heard Lord Lyle managed to defend it with roughly twenty thousand troops?"
There was a vast difference between me and other humans.
It came down to the knowledge of the successive heads — and the Skills they had left behind. The Walt bloodline had only ever manifested support-type Skills, and through generations of inheritance, their bodies had become uniquely suited to support-type abilities.
It was also fortunate that, thanks to the continuous Skill inheritance through the Jewel starting from the First Generation, no duplicate Skills had accumulated.
I realized I had been gripping the Jewel at some point without noticing.
"…It's because the inherited Skills were excellent."
Night.
When I ventured into the Jewel, I found the Fifth Generation sitting at the round table, looking irritated.
He was glaring at Mireia, who sat in his chair with a composed expression.
"Hey. Stop stalling and let Lyle inherit the Skills already. I've passed on what I needed to, and above all, my three-stage Skill won't be of any use going forward."
Mireia let out a sigh at the sight of the Fifth Generation like that.
"You're being stubborn again, aren't you? You haven't passed on the important thing. From the First Generation to the Fourth, House Walt was, if anything, a family of landed nobility in the countryside. Above all else, they valued family life. The fact that it was you, the Fifth Generation, who changed all that dramatically — you haven't conveyed that at all."
The Fifth Generation's eyebrow twitched as he looked at Mireia.
"You could just tell him yourself. As if teaching him that sort of thing would matter?"
Amid the tense atmosphere, the Third Generation and the Seventh Generation exchanged shrugs. I let out a sigh as I listened to their back-and-forth, then spoke up to change the subject.
"Listen, tomorrow we'll be departing Galleria and heading for Rusworth. After that, we make for Kartafus and our sea voyage will be over. Things have been going smoothly so far, so could I trouble you for some more training?"
I had come into the Jewel to have the successive heads drill me. There had been times before when I was too busy to afford such luxury.
I felt I needed to take this opportunity while I had it. Besides, the Fifth Generation had finished his role and was thinking of fading away. Mireia was refusing, but there was no telling when he might vanish.
The Seventh Generation seemed to find the mood in the room unpleasant, and rose from his chair.
"I'll be your sparring partner. Come along, Lyle."
With that, he headed for the memory room — but just then, one of the doors burst open with vigor.
It was the door to my own memory room.
Standing there was someone wearing that same smug grin — a mirror image of myself.
"I heard you were free, so I came to visit! I'm everyone's adorable self! Now then, Lyle — face me in a duel! Win, and I'll return your memories!"
Seeing my younger self strike a sharp pose, my head started to ache. I would never do something like this, I thought — and as I opened my mouth to say so, Mireia spoke up.
"Truly. You're far too stubborn, Father. I suppose there's no helping it. Lyle's room of memories is, in a sense, also a room of the Jewel. I'll take a look at your past through it."
At those words from Mireia, Lyle pulled a face of distaste.
"Come on, I have my own circumstances, you know? Mireia, you're being awfully high-handed. Besides, doesn't Lyle already have enough? What he's got is plenty — I think he'd get more value out of having an advisor."
At Lyle's words, Mireia shook her head.
"How long are you going to keep relying on us? Besides, if he's going to defeat Ceres, there are many things Lyle needs to know."
Lyle had both arms folded behind his head. Then, looking at Mireia, he spoke.
"My thoughts may differ from yours and the will of the Jewel, Mireia. I intend to have my family saved."
"Saved?"
I looked at Lyle, weighing the meaning of his words. Did he mean it literally, or was there something else behind it?
Thinking on it briefly, it could mean freeing them from the curse of Ceres. But if he meant it literally —
The Seventh Generation looked at Lyle, his hands clenched into fists.
"Lyle, what exactly do you mean by 'saved'? Don't you understand? Making amends for what Maisel and the others did is already —"
Even if Ceres was the root cause, would those around them accept that reasoning? Ceres was to blame. That meant the other people bore no guilt. If that kind of logic held, I wouldn't have needed to aim for emperor. We could have defeated Ceres with a small elite force, and everything would have been resolved.
But reality was different. It was cruel. It was the absolute worst.
Lyle gazed up at the ceiling.
"Even so, I want my family saved. That is my wish. I don't know the will of the Jewel, or the thoughts of the successive heads, or even yours, Mireia. This is my own personal wish."
The Third Generation, who had been silent the whole time, kept his head lowered.
The Fifth Generation didn't open his mouth either. Neither did the Seventh. All three simply watched Lyle with complicated expressions. Then Mireia spoke.
"...Very well. Let's take care of Lyle's business first. Father's business can come after."
The Fifth Generation muttered in distaste.
"...What have you gotten yourself into..."
The atmosphere inside the Jewel had never been this bad.
When he opened his eyes, he was in the dormitory at Galleria.
The temperature difference between morning and evening had set in. He'd thought it was only a little chilly, but another blanket had been draped over the one he was already covered with, keeping him warm.
Monica must have prepared it. She wasn't in the room; it seemed she had already stepped outside.
Sitting up, he still felt a slight chill.
"...This has become a hassle. And right when we're about to set out on a real journey."
Rusworth, and from there, Kartafus.
From Kartafus, they would head to Fonbeau via Banseim. It was quite a distance to cover, and now it would be a journey under a dark cloud inside the Jewel.
And he had been forced into a conversation with Lyle — no, into a showdown.
The current situation. He had experienced growth six times over. That was certainly a lot. But did that mean he could win against Lyle? Not necessarily.
Movement techniques like Ceres's. Mireia had used them too.
That alone didn't make him Ceres's equal, but Ceres before she had taken everything from him — the old him — had been a more than sufficient threat.
"Was I really that strong back then? Am I just forgetting... No, I heard she took all sorts of things from me."
Could losing those things alone account for that vast a gap in power? As he thought this, he got out of bed and stretched, just as Monica appeared in the room carrying a basin.
She must have prepared hot water.
"Oh, you're awake? What a waste — I was going to slip under the futon this time and see if I could cause a misunderstanding when someone walked in. You really can't read the room, can you, Chicken?"
"Saying that while you're busy with morning preparations doesn't exactly sell it. Enough with the usual jokes — get a move on. We have to reach Rusworth's port by today. Where are Aria and the others?"
When he said that, Monica set the basin on the floor and brought over a chair. Tilting her head as she looked at his face, she said:
"Why should I have to look after Chicken's women? I'll do it if you tell me to, but to think that this Monica would be made to wait on other women..."
I rapped Monica on the head just as she started putting on a show of crying, and her golden twin tails swayed gently.
"Ow. You've got to be kidding. Aria and the others are still asleep, you know. They're tired from the sea voyage."
The sea route would continue for several more days, so I turned my thoughts to what lay ahead.
"I'd like to let them rest as much as possible while we can. Clara is one thing, but take extra care of Shannon. She doesn't have much stamina."
I expected Shannon would be the first to feel unwell on this trip. Monica seemed to be keeping a close eye on her as well.
"The nutritional balance of her meals is perfect. But as long as the traveling keeps up, her stamina will drain, so I can't say for certain. That said, Shannon has actually been showing improvement in her physical endurance recently."
Hearing that, I stroked my chin.
"...She had it rough at first, so just living a normal life built up her stamina whether she liked it or not, huh?"
"That's right."
Monica nodded in agreement.
——On board the ship.
Miranda, who had been traveling separately from Laiel's group, watched the crew working on the deck.
Rather than taking the Trace family's ship, she had arranged to head south and enter Baim from another country.
Perhaps because they were heading south, the wind was warm.
Miranda gripped the railing and gazed up at the sky. A vast blue sky stretched overhead, and in the distance, land was visible.
"I wonder if Shannon is doing well."
While worrying about her younger sister Shannon, Miranda brushed her wind-tousled hair back with her fingertips.
It was Shannon herself who had insisted on following Laiel's group. Originally, the plan had been for her to either accompany Miranda or wait in South Baim. Shannon's stamina had certainly improved compared to before, but there was still a significant gap when measured against those around her.
Miranda figured Shannon must have had her own reasons for the decision, so she had respected her wishes.
Miranda was worried about Shannon, but she was also thinking about matters in the southern country.
"...We have letters from the Four-Country Alliance and Kartafus, but how much weight will they actually carry?"
To the south, there was a country bordering Baim. However, its territory was too extensive to call a small nation, yet its scale was too ambiguous to call it a great power.
It was one of the countries Baim traded with, but it was a place none of them — Miranda included — had any real familiarity with.
They did have a letter of introduction from a merchant who had done business there, so they should at least be able to meet with the king.
"Well, let's try to make it work. Even if it doesn't pan out, we can enter Baim from there and start gathering information."
This time, the king of the southern country was a man. That was precisely why Laiel was not on their side for this. If he had been a woman, Miranda's group wouldn't have hesitated to send Laiel in.
Even if it meant gaining another rival, they had no future if they didn't win. And it was still a fact that they lacked the strength to defeat Ceres.
"Even if we secure Fonbeau's cooperation, at the current rate we'd be roughly even with Baim, or slightly at a disadvantage. We need to find more countries willing to help."
Even if they cooperated, Miranda's intention was eventually to rule over their country as an empire. She felt a twinge of guilt about that.
"...Ceres's domination, or Laiel's rule. When you think about it, both are members of House Walt — meaning the future of the continent rests in the hands of House Walt. What a troublesome family."
Miranda said that, and allowed herself a small smile.