The Second Son of The Marquis Runs Away from Home ~ Lacking Talent, He Abandons Everything and Becomes an Adventurer ~ - 121

Chapter 121: Reunion with Father

Our home… Well, technically it was, but to be honest, my memories of living in this house were quite faint.

The two years I spent outside the kingdom, especially the recent events, overshadowed the fifteen years I lived within its borders. Walking into the mansion with my brother, the gathered servants all bowed simultaneously to welcome us. At the center was an elderly butler—Haiman, if I recall correctly—bowing deeply.

“Welcome back, Lord Bardle, Lord Serk.”

“We’re back, but you shouldn’t get our names wrong.”

“Apologies, Lord Berg.”

Haiman corrected himself, bowing towards me. The servants remained in their bowed positions, perhaps considering me a failure who had now become an Imperial knight and returned with the power to avert the kingdom’s crisis. They might be worried that I would seek retaliation.

“I don’t care how you address us or what you think. Apologies and regrets at this point would only be a nuisance, so stop it.”

I said this while emitting a slight killing intent. The servants all visibly tensed, their faces contorted in fear. Seeing this, I couldn’t help but feel a bit childish, mimicking the situation from when I dealt with Latina. However, there was no need to do that now.

“Sorry about that. Let’s go, big brother.”

“Yeah, everyone, you can stand back.”

The servants bowed once again before leaving. Haiman said, “This way,” and guided us to the study.

“… Was planning to make a little comeback, but maybe I overdid it?” I muttered.

“Well… honestly, that might be too much for people without combat experience.”

My brother chuckled while conveying this message. I scratched my head, feeling a bit self-conscious. Continuing our conversation, we arrived at the door of the study.

“Serk, you okay?”

“… Yeah.”

Taking a moment to compose myself, I knocked on the door. A voice from within, much less firm than the one I remembered echoing in the darkness, replied, “Come in.”

Opening the door, along with the scent of paper and ink, I squinted at the figure that appeared in my field of vision.

The last time I saw our father, he still had brown hair, an arranged appearance, and an imposing demeanor with a dignified posture.

But now, the increase in white hair and wrinkles made him appear to have aged about ten years in just two short years.