The Last Place Hero's Return-Chapter 139: Interlude – Descendent of the Iron Fist (2)
Gilbert quietly reached out his hand as he watched Berald sob. His rough palm came down on his son’s bowed head and gently stroked it.
Berald lifted his tear-stained face. “Father.”
Then Gilbert’s hand landed sharply on the back of his son’s head.
Berald clutched his skull with a pained cry. “Argh!”
Gilbert clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Look at you. A grown man bawling like a baby the moment I wake up?”
The two immediately launched into a shouting match.
“What the? That’s the first thing you say after coming to your senses for the first time in years?”
“What else am I supposed to say when the son I haven’t seen in years greets me by sniveling like a fool?”
“You cantankerous old man!”
“What was that, you little bastard? That’s how you talk to your father?”
What in the world is this? I thought.
I exchanged blank looks with Iris. Yurina and Camilla had stayed away, fearing they could interrupt the treatment. So, Iris and I could only watch the father and son bicker.
“This is what’s always been wrong with you, Father! You never read the room! You never did!”
“And you think you’re one to talk about reading the room?”
“What, are you saying I’m the clueless one here?”
“No. To be precise, you’re not clueless. You’re just stupid.”
“You! How can you say that to your son?”
“If you had anyone else as your parent, they would’ve thrown you away years ago. I’m the only one patient enough to stick around!”
“Damn stubborn old man!”
“You insolent brat! How could I have raised a child like you!”
“You dare say that to me?”
By now, the two had each other by the collar, yelling at the top of their lungs. As I watched in disbelief, the door suddenly burst open. A kindly looking middle-aged woman entered the room.
Seeing Gilbert, Anna clasped her hands over her mouth, her eyes brimming with tears of relief. “M-Master! You’re awake!”
But that tender moment lasted only a second.
“Anna! Look at this disrespectful brat of mine! The first thing he does is scream at his father and call me a damn old man!”
“That’s only because you hit me on the head out of nowhere!”
Anna’s warm expression hardened. Her face, once gentle, now twisted like that of a wrathful demon. “Master. Young Master.”
Her voice, chilled and sharp, cut through the heated air in the room. Gilbert and Berald instantly averted their eyes, both shrinking away like scolded schoolboys.
Berald stuttered. “Uh! Y-yes? What is it?”
“Ahem! Is there some... problem?” Gilbert asked.
Anna gave them a calm, sweet smile. “Enough. Both of you.”
Just like that, the true hierarchy within House Ryu was made crystal clear.
***
After the commotion had settled down, Berald explained to his father everything that had happened while the latter had been unconscious—the great battle against the Demon Cult five years ago; the grievous wounds Gilbert had suffered; the delirium and madness that followed as a lasting side effect; his own admission into the hero academy; and the story of how he had formed a party with Dale, Yurina, Iris, and Camilla.
Rubbing his forehead, Gilbert muttered bitterly, “Five years. You’re telling me five whole years have passed?”
“You don’t remember any of it?”
“No. I remember fragments, faintly. But nothing clear.”
Gilbert closed his eyes, as though searching for those elusive memories. A faint, rueful smile tugged at his lips as he turned back to his son. He rested a hand on Berald’s shoulder. “You must have gone through hell... because of your wretched father.”
Berald bit his lip and turned away, refusing to meet his father’s gaze. “What’s with this out-of-character sentimentality?”
“Heh. You’re right, it doesn’t suit me.” Despite saying that, Gilbert smiled faintly as he ruffled Berald’s hair. “You’ve done well, my son. You’ve grown so much.”
Berald lowered his head again, lips pressed tight.
Gilbert said, “Don’t tell me you’re crying again.”
“W-who says I’m crying?” Berald immediately replied.
Gilbert chuckled. “Hah. Who did you inherit those tears from, I wonder?”
“Isn’t it obvious? From you, Father.”
“Bah! Don’t spout nonsense. I’ve never once cried in my entire life!”
“I can name at least five times off the top of my head.”
Gilbert cleared his throat. “Ahem. Enough out of you.”
He then turned toward me and Iris. “These are the ones who stood by you?”
“There are two more.”
“Bring them here.”
Berald nodded and stepped out. Soon after, Yuren and Camilla entered the room with him and bowed respectfully to Gilbert.
“Ah! Nice to meet you.”
“It’s an honor to meet the patriarch of House Ryu.”
Gilbert studied them for a moment, then slowly rose from his bed. He faltered for an instant, and Berald quickly reached out. However, Gilbert shook his head and stood firmly on both feet.
“I’m fine,” he said.
Gilbert’s frame was massive, nearly matching his son’s. Though age had taken its toll on him, the sheer force of presence he exuded was like that of a wild beast.
Gilbert politely bowed his head. “Thank you... for standing by my lacking son.”
Dale and the party members returned the gesture with equal respect.
Gilbert turned to Berald. “So, I heard you enrolled in the Hero Academy?”
“Heh. That’s right. I’m in my second year now.”
“Then all of your party members, did you meet them at the academy as well?”
Berald nodded. “That’s right.”
He eagerly introduced us one by one.
“This handsome fellow here is Yuren! None other than the young master of the famed Helios family!”
“Helios? Don’t tell me... the Helios family? That Helios family?”
“Heh, exactly! Yuren here is a direct descendant of the legendary Knight of the Sun!”
Gilbert let out a hollow laugh, as if the idea was almost too absurd to believe. He glanced between Berald and Yuren, murmuring under his breath. “I guess this could be called fate.”
“Hm? What’s with the sudden talk about fate?” Berald asked.
“No, it’s nothing. And the others?”
Berald, brimming with excitement, continued his introductions. “This here is Sister Camilla!”
Camilla sternly said, “Senior.”
“Ah, yes, Senior Camilla! She’s so skilled she’s been named a candidate for the next Sword of the Holy Empire.”
“A candidate for the Sword of the Holy Empire?”
“And this beautiful lady here is Sister Iris! The Saintess of the Holy Empire herself! She’s the one who healed you not too long ago, Father!”
Gilbert stared at Berald, utterly dumbfounded. “The Saintess of the Holy Empire, you say? What in the world were you doing at the academy to end up surrounded by people this important?”
Berald turned to Dale. “Heh. It’s all thanks to Brother Dale here!”
He laughed heartily. “Brother Dale is our party’s leader and like a mentor to me!”
Gilbert’s gaze shifted to Dale, his eyes narrowing with interest. “Ho? So, you’re the leader of this party?”
“Yes,” Dale replied firmly.
Gilbert shook his head slowly, as though trying, but failing to imagine just how extraordinary this young man named Dale before him must be. “Hoho. Even with the descendant of the Knight of the Sun, the Saintess of the Holy Empire, and a candidate for the next Sword of the Holy Empire in the same group, you’re the one acting as the leader.”
He then pointed at Berald. “And how did you end up knowing this one?”
“We met during supplementary classes last year,” Dale replied.
“Ah, I see. Supplementary classes... hm? What?” Gilbert’s eyes suddenly hardened, and he turned to his son. “Berald.”
“Hm? What is it?”
“Don’t tell me your grades were bad enough that you had to attend supplementary classes?”
“W-well, that is....” Berald’s eyes darted around in panic.
Gilbert immediately grabbed his son’s ear and yanked it hard.
Berald shouted in pain, “Argh! W-what are you doing?”
“What do you think I’m doing, you fool! How badly did you screw up for your grades to sink low enough to need supplementary classes?”
Though he had raised Berald with a fairly loose hand, Gilbert was still a father. And what parent in the world didn’t worry about their child’s grades?
“Good grief! You’re going to be the death of me! Supplementary classes, of all things!”
Supplementary classes were reserved for cadets who ranked in the bottom thirty of the academy’s overall evaluations. Gilbert had often wondered in his youth what kind of idiot could land in supplementary classes, but who could have guessed that one of them would be his own son.
Gilbert let out a long sigh. “I always knew he wasn’t the brightest, but still....”
He turned to Dale. “You must have had a hard time because of my son.”
“Haha, it wasn’t that bad.”
“Still, you said you two met in supplementary classes, right? Hoho, I never imagined there were still fine young men willing to give up their vacation time to mentor struggling juniors these days.”
“Excuse me?”
***
I was flabbergasted. Mentoring? Fine young man? What on earth is he talking about?
Berald’s father continued, “Come to think of it, when I was a cadet, seniors often gave me advice outside of regular classes as well. It was a different kind of wisdom than what the professors taught.”
I was speechless. Then realization struck me. He thought that I had spent my break volunteering to help out struggling juniors in supplementary classes.
“Heh. Dale, was it? To think you would form such strong ties with a junior you helped during supplementary classes that you would even form a party together. Your character speaks for itself.”
I kept quiet.
“To extend a hand to those who fall behind, that is the true virtue of a hero. I hope you’ll continue guiding Berald well.”
I shook Gilbert’s outstretched hand with an awkward smile. “Ah! Y-yes. Of course.”
Gilbert’s eyes gleamed with curiosity, and he said, “By the way, Dale, may I ask how are your grades at the academy?”
After all, who wouldn’t wonder about the academic standing of someone leading a party composed of such distinguished figures?
I remained silent.
Gilbert tilted his head in puzzlement. “Hm? Why are you so quiet?”
Then, after a brief pause, his expression cleared. “Ah, I see. Don’t worry, I’m not trying to compare your grades to my son’s or scold him further. You can tell me freely. What’s your overall evaluation ranking?”
A bead of cold sweat trickled down my spine.
