Chapter 231


In the culturally diverse lands of Europa, it’s only natural that coming-of-age ceremonies are conducted in various ways and scales across different cities and villages.

Some nations throw nationwide drinking parties disguised as these ceremonies.

Some cities and towns gather as a community under the guidance of a representative.

Others only include relatives, close friends, or associates, attending the ceremony with the priestess at hand.

Typically, the coming-of-age ceremony in Coldon fell into the third category.

Naturally, the ceremony hosted by the Felwinter Family was no exception.

Of course, the scale of their celebration was anything but small.

It couldn’t be treated lightly.

Vassal counts, barons, and nobles’ offspring.

Knights sworn to loyalty and heirs of clan chiefs.

Even the children of employees working in the castle.

The number of influential rulers and nobles’ children participating in the ceremony alone could represent the entire population of a village, and if the local ruler, the duke, didn’t manage it well, it would definitely raise eyebrows.

However, compared to Wintersend, it was merely a handful.

But Wintersend was the exception among exceptions.

That being said, even though it was a gathering of people, the preparations weren’t overly chaotic.

It had only been a year since the nationwide festival, and barely a month since a banquet of that size had been held.

In comparison, the coming-of-age ceremony now preparing hardly could even be regarded as an event. Yet it couldn’t be treated as a trivial matter either.

“There, raise the decorations higher.”

“Do you mean higher than this?”

At Elder Iona’s words, those making final checks around the temple of Winterhome got busy.

The coming-of-age ceremony would take place not in the temple but in the Great Hall.

It was unavoidable due to its scale.

That said, the temple couldn’t be left in disarray.

Even after the ceremony, there would still be visitors to the temple.

“Elder Iona! Is this amount of firewood sufficient?”

“Yes. Since there are relatively fewer participants this year, that should be enough.”

“Shall we air the place out for a bit?”

“Yes, and since we’re at it, let’s arrange the torches in advance.”

After a thorough round of checks, Iona concluded that it would suffice.

“Alright, everyone. You’ve all done well. Contact the kitchen to prepare the special dishes, and let’s head to the Great Hall!”

At her cue, the priests and servants rejoiced and swarmed out of the temple like a school of sardines spotting food.

“…I can’t help but think about having a drink.”

Just then, William entered with a worried expression, as if saying, “I’ve got some thoughts on my mind.”

“Your Highness William. What brings you here? You visit here so few times in a year that I can count them on my fingers.”

“Ow, that hurts a bit.”

William chuckled and pretended to clutch his heart in shock.

“Well, it’s not wrong. I was just wandering around aimlessly.”

As the worry faded from William’s face, Iona couldn’t help but wonder what kind of troubles could plague someone of his age.

“…Well, care for a drink?”

Deciding to ply him with alcohol first, she thought maybe it would loosen him up enough to talk.

Inviting a minor to drink, however, seemed dubious in appearance. But to Iona, it was perfectly reasonable.

After all, throughout human history, the timeline where minors drank far surpassed that where they didn’t or couldn’t.

In present-day Europa, that was patently obvious.

Iona guided William to the prayer room, offered him a seat at the table, and prayed at the modest altar of Skadi, the goddess of winter.

Clunk—

She lifted the altar’s lid and fetched out a barrel of beer.

William, aghast at the sacrilegious sight he had never seen before, could hardly keep his voice down despite Iona’s age.

“W-Why on earth would you store beer there!?”

“There aren’t many suitable places to hide it from prying eyes but here.”

“You won’t be able to complain if divine punishment comes.”

“If that were the case, I would have faced my judgment long before receiving the title of Elder.”

Her nonchalant use of such an audacious phrase was shocking.

William gasped quietly as Iona placed a cup on the altar and poured the beer.

As he finally regained his composure, a glass of beer was set before him, similar to how he had entered the temple.

Perhaps he was now more troubled than ever.

‘If I drink this, I feel like I’ll be punished.’

Seeing his dilemma, Iona waved her hand dismissively.

“Your Highness, if this beer were to go flat now, it would truly be an insult to those who ascended!”

“Drinking during daylight feels like a one-way ticket to a backhand from Lady Skadi.”

“In Eisenwald, there’s an old saying that beer is not an alcoholic drink, but water itself, passed down from ancient times.”

“Why would you mention the proverb from a dwarf nation on the continent…?”

“A good saying should be shared.”

Indeed, a saying accurate enough to be recorded in history books, describing a land known for its boozy rascals who drank beer instead of water.

“Alright, I get it. Just one drink. Just, one drink.”

Before William could finish his sentence, the barrel tilted.

The clear golden liquid splashed into the glass, creating clouds of foam as it filled quickly.

“Now, drink it before the foam settles!”

“No kidding, that’s exactly the plan.”

Goodness. The beer disappeared down William’s throat in one swift gulp.

He felt the warm energy inside him settle instantly.

“Phew, even saying that, it’s not even Eisenwald brew, you know?”

“It’s just good quality ordinary barley beer.”

One glass, two glasses, three glasses…

After grumbling about divine retribution and hexes, William finally placed down his glass after six consecutive drinks.

“Guhhh. Phew. Alright, enough. I’m stuffed.”

“Then, do you feel inclined to share what’s troubling your mind?”

“Are you really going to ask me again after getting me tipsy?”

“Alcohol can also be a cure for lightening one’s burden.”

“But you just said beer was water.”

“That’s a saying among the drunken dwarves of Eisenwald, not applicable to us.”

“Truly, words are not enough to battle you.”

“If I were to lose a debate in my age against you, it would be a waste of time.”

William sighed deeply.

“It’s about my future. My future.”

“Are you speaking of Your Highness’s future?”

“Who else could it be? Alicia is still just a child.”

Alicia was merely approaching seven years of age.

She was too young for even future speculations.

Alicia was still at the stage of eating, sleeping, mischief, and running around. Although, he had heard whispers of families considering betrothal, but they were a separate matter.

“Your future is already mostly set, right?”

Godwin was effectively the Grand Prince of Felwinter.

The next duke to carry on Alfred Felwinter’s legacy.

He was robust and increasingly fit as days went by, thanks to his passion for exercise. The peculiar reason behind it was just that he disliked being restricted during mealtimes.

William did believe Godwin was walking a tightrope as if it were perilous. A senseless endeavor. With just a single trigger, he could easily revert to those months of consuming mayonnaise.

“Robin seems intent on becoming a wizard.”

After lingering around, Robin had suddenly recovered his health.

Out of the blue, he had become an apprentice to the renowned mage, Olivier, at the tower.

At this point, he spent more time in the tower than at the castle.

“Destinies above and below have been set.”

“Indeed, that is true.”

“I can’t help but notice even when trying to ignore it.”

“The circumstances have indeed turned quite peculiar.”

“Not to mention, I never imagined Robin would genuinely become a wizard.”

“Well, it’s customary for the second son of a noble family to aim for the position of the first son.”

Power is not shared, even among fathers and sons.

Let alone among siblings—especially in the case of the first and second sons, where they would undoubtedly be viewed as rivals.

“Ugh! Yikes! Father! That’s uncalled for!”

William shuddered as if he had seen three days’ worth of rotten food scraps.

“I’ve closely observed my father and brother’s daily lives, but I’m starting to think this situation feels increasingly off.”

Iona swallowed audibly.

“Each day, several carts full of documents come in, and hastily processing them means another set arrives. Are you telling me this is a sign that living standards have improved?”

“…”

“Sitting in one place and trying to maintain a refined poise is exhausting, and I must uphold that behavior in front of hundreds of vassals and subjects?”

William trembled at his own words, as if he’d just described a frightful nightmare.

“Wow, just those two examples alone sound terrifying.”

“With great power comes great responsibility… though, these days, there seem to be many nobles who don’t understand this, causing all sorts of counsel requests.”

“Ugh. If that’s what power entails, then I don’t want it.”

William shook his messy hair left and right, as if trying to cast away those thoughts.

“I’m no golem with nothing to do but follow orders.”

“The higher up you are, the more responsibilities you carry.”

“The Grand Prince can deal with that. I’d rather enjoy my honey and try to find my own path like Robin.”

Such talk was practically a statement of giving up a title.

It was as if he was expressing a desire to abandon the life of a noble.

But Iona didn’t flinch.

“Phew, I’m glad.”

Iona felt a sense of relief.

“Your reaction is surprisingly different from what I expected.”

“I’ll be honest, Your Highness. I was worried you might try to harm Prince Godwin while vying for the position of heir. Knowing the truth, it’s really a relief. Hahaha!”

“…”

As those unsettling words slipped out, William found himself at a loss for speech.

“Wait, did you really pour beer on me thinking that?”

“I’ve watched you, Your Highness, and I believe that human emotions seldom function solely through reason, don’t you agree?”

“N-No…”

The heart of a woman is like a reed?

The heart of a human is indeed fickle like that.

Let alone in the realm of power where blades might cross, it would be even more volatile than that.

“It’s common for the firstborn and second-born of noble families to be destined to end each other.”

“I know that in theory, but is it really that bad?”

“Certain noble families have had their youngest survive a struggle among seven siblings just to inherit the title.”

“That’s quite barbaric.”

“Thus, it’s fortunate.”

The world of power is an unforgiving place.

It’s a brutal realm where one must guard against kin more than rivals.

“So, it’s wise to keep your composure, as I believe it’s a good thing for an elder like me.”

Fortunately, the Felwinter family was a rare case of a familial bond flourishing even within the ruthless world of power.

“I think it might be beneficial to experience other types of endeavors too.”

“I’ve got no talent for being a knight either.”

“I know you have no aptitude as a knight, Your Highness.”

“What? You’re saying that openly in front of me?”

“Would you prefer I word it more delicately?”

“N-No, not that.”

Iona moistened her dry lips with beer.

“What about learning to cook for now? I heard Karem is quite relaxed even between tasks.”

“Hmm… I don’t mind trying it, but… oh right.”

“Of course, after the coming-of-age ceremony, yes?”

William nearly put his beer down, having been caught off guard.

“Is he participating in the ceremony?”

It was a valid concern.

Few knew that Karem was a reincarnated individual.

For those unaware of the circumstances, it would simply appear as though a cursed eleven-year-old who grew unusually fast was about to participate in a coming-of-age ceremony.

“I’m not sure myself.”

“Weren’t you the one who approved it?”

“Technically, yes.”

Iona rubbed her chin thoughtfully.

“I’ve never encountered a situation like this, so if problems arise, we can handle them later, right? He’s grown and is a precocious child, so it should be okay.”

“Maybe?”

“Sigh, I really don’t know.”

William decided to stick to drinking beer for now.