Acting Lord

Translator: Cinder Translations

...

When the first rays of sunlight shone on Alden Town, the tension and atmosphere of solemnity accumulated overnight did not dissipate.

Guards stood at various intersections, most of whom were militia members who had only learned to shoot the day before. The militia, both nervous and excited, watched everything around them with keen eyes. Despite having stayed awake all night, they were full of energy, feeling as though they were bearing some sacred and significant task—rescuing Alden from conspirators.

The once-bustling streets of Alden Town were now eerily quiet. Only those with urgent matters dared to venture out cautiously. Fortunately, aside from a few restricted areas, they faced no significant difficulties moving about the city.

Inside the lord's mansion, the council members gathered overnight had also not slept. They stood in two lines in the front courtyard, seemingly waiting for some important figure.

A carriage emerged from a side alley and slowly approached the lord's mansion along the city's main street, flanked by a team of mounted guards. This display stood out starkly in the desolate streets.

Approximately twenty minutes later, the carriage entered through the castle's main gate and came to a stop in the courtyard.

One of the knights dismounted; it was Lieutenant Beluga, who had been authorized by the command staff to oversee the city's martial law. The militia gathered in Alden Town was under his command.

Beluga approached the carriage, opened the door, and called out, "Your Excellency, Lord Julian, please step down. The council members have been waiting for you."

A fair-skinned hand reached out and gently grasped the doorframe, followed by a well-dressed middle-aged man stepping down from the carriage.

He wore a long robe of dark gold tones, was of medium build, and sported a carefully groomed beard, slightly double-chinned.

The man addressed as Lord Julian by Beluga appeared exhausted and sorrowful, his demeanor suggesting he had not slept a wink.

All eyes in the courtyard turned to him. The head of the council, Old Ford, stepped forward and bowed slightly, saying, "Your Excellency, Lord Julian."

"Alas!" Julian sighed, his voice hoarse as he spoke. "Director Ford, I never expected this to happen, nor did I expect to see you again under these circumstances. Just last week, I was strolling in this courtyard with Lord Grayman, and now… Alas, regardless, please accept my condolences."

"Please accept mine as well." Old Ford's voice was equally hoarse. "I assume Lieutenant Beluga has informed you of the reasons for your presence here."

"Yes... he also told me about the dangers facing Alden. Since the Lord of Light has placed me at this crossroads of Alden's fate, I shall refrain from any pretentious remarks. I—Julian Webster—am willing to take on this responsibility and restore the Grayman name."

As Julian spoke, Old Ford watched him closely. His tone was resolute, yet his eyes revealed a mix of tension, hesitation, and insecurity, a combination that eased some of Old Ford's doubts.

Julian also regarded Old Ford, extending his hand to grasp the director's. "Please help me. Let us work together to overcome the challenges ahead."

Old Ford nodded gently. "We will, Lord Julian. Now, please enter the hall. What we urgently need is to send letters in the name of the Grayman family to the surrounding lords to deter those with ill intentions and to seek assistance from friendly families."

"I understand," Julian replied. "You discuss; I will write. However, it's also essential to quickly inform Alden, Byerldine, and Emden that the new… acting lord has been established to prevent any disruptions in governance."

Old Ford replied, "Of course. The ministers of the council, including myself, have already prepared a joint letter to announce your new identity to the public. Lord Ganard has also sent someone to assist."

Afterward, Old Ford introduced the officials standing in the courtyard to Julian, although he already recognized many of them.

Once introductions were complete, the officials followed the two into the lord's mansion hall, where everyone resumed their seats.

They discussed which individuals nearby might harbor malicious intentions against Alden and which would stand with Alden, contemplating how to word letters for different recipients.

Finally, they concluded on how to deal with the rebels in Babol Village. The decision was to wait until the four reorganized infantry regiments currently on field training returned, then dispatch troops to eliminate those rebels and avenge Paul Grayman.

Simultaneously, they would continue martial law in Alden Town until all potential insurgents within the city were apprehended.

Acting Lord Julian and the officials held their meeting until just before noon, at which point they prepared pens and ink to begin writing letters...

It was at this moment that someone approached Lieutenant Beluga, the sole military representative present at the meeting, to quietly report that a military force had appeared outside the city.

Steward Philip trudged away from the meeting hall with a heavy heart.

Having just welcomed Acting Lord Julian alongside the council officials, he felt he could no longer stay there.

Grief filled his entire being. The issues of rebellion and border troubles were left to those appointed by Paul. He hoped they would not disappoint the young master; he was merely the steward of the Grayman family.

Philip resolved to remain in the lord's mansion until the young master's vengeance was fulfilled, then he would resign and return home to live out the rest of his days.

He had no interest in continuing to serve Julian, the inheritor of the Grayman name. For Philip, after Paul's departure, the true Grayman family was no longer in this world; Julian was just an outsider bearing the Grayman name.

Wandering aimlessly within the castle, Philip sometimes felt an illusion that Paul was right beside him, yet each time the vision would shatter instantly.

"Alas!" He pushed open the door to Paul's office, where various books and documents were strewn about. He wondered how the castle's new master would deal with them.

Knock, knock! Knock, knock! 

A sound came from the window. The old steward turned to look and saw a large parrot perched on the windowsill, tapping on the glass with its beak.

This parrot… it looked somewhat familiar? The old steward felt an inexplicable sense of recognition.

(End of the Chapter)

---

Read (FF) on Pa.treon@CinderTL - c779.

Early Access at $5.

Translated (4) Series, (1.8K+) Chapters, (2.25M+) Words.