Resurrection of Duke Werstein ~ I Didn't Hear Anything About Being A Middle-aged Man ~

Southgate, the southernmost part of the kingdom of Renamilia, facing the sea, Verstein territory, its main natural port town

The city, known for its fishing, aquaculture and trade with other countries, was wary of the visit of its lord, the Duke of Verstein.

The topic is, what more has a lord come to do now, who has left his territory for almost twelve years?

I wonder what the hell the person who caused it came to this land, exhausted by repeated tax increases (...) and pushed to the point where it was no longer near bankruptcy.

In fact, it was the perception that taxes were increasing for them.

So the person finally came to declare a tax increase?

Until such rumors came out, their young inhabitants were being hunted down.

Not to the point of not being able to live, but living or dying is a critical condition.

... In fact, since we only collected the same amount of tax as before with the rise in prices in the country, it is not that much of a cornerstone, but it may be said that we have no choice because the epidemic twelve years ago caused people, the pillars of work, to be almost uprooted, so the children left behind and the elderly, to have to work.

The demon took his life, not separated by noble civilians.

All I can say is no, if you ask me how the people at the time worked, how spicy it was to work in this territory, and if I can understand everything to the young children of the time and the migrants from other territories.

Against that background, after twelve years, the young inhabitants, now almost formed only by the children of the time they grew up, all in all assumed that the nobility, including the lord, was evil and that the lord was more exploitative than necessary from the inhabitants.

No matter how many old men and surviving adults taught, there were limits.

If you just look at the numbers, it's true, because taxes were up year after year.

Young people generally have the shackles of inexperience.

That's why you can act on assumptions, and it's easy for others to flush you.

If one of us gets loud, even if it's wrong, that's what we think it is.

Especially if someone you trust,... for example, a priest of the Church of Renamilia, who helped children and old men who lost their parents twelve years ago devote themselves to living, always repeats his scepticism about the nobility of this country, it would be inevitable.

And that was no exception to the next generation of boys and girls.

Is that why?

When the lord's carriage came into the city, one boy threw a stone at it.

"Get out!!

Whether he was inspired by the appearance of a boy throwing stones with that screaming, or lit by a smoking depression within, even the adults watching it began to throw objects close to him as if they were going to be caught.

"Go home!!

"You aristocrats!!

People throwing stones, plates, and, at the end of the day, chairs and desks, arousing and scattering thoughts.

Sometimes after lunch, even the dishes that were lined up at the table were thrown at each plate and desk, and splashing ingredients and other things made the neighborhood temporarily noisy.

Indeed, for twelve years, the Duke, the lord, once a year, had exploited taxes from the inhabitants for the uncertain reason that it was a celebration of the king's birth.

But it's not enough to live, and he's still better off compared to the other, that's what the Lords at the bottom can accommodate.

Those who knew it despaired of the figure of the stone-throwing people.

We don't even try to figure out what we're doing, but we throw stones.

They are foolish, but therefore do not think.

So when it happened, all I could do was be frightened.

Suddenly, the flames rise.

The panicked people fled without understanding why.

In the flames that strike you to lick your skin, pieces of wood from chairs and tables that have been broken and scattered by throwing them on the carriage can burn up, and at the same time the unique smell of cobblestone burning can be put in.

I finally realized its presence on the other side of the flame as people fled to scatter, frightened by the fear of death caused by the flames.

Instead, it was releasing its presence to the point where it was unclear why it hadn't noticed before.

But it can't happen all over the city like this.

Fears propagate to a very similar, intimidating feeling that it might be another creature or even dispel such a question.

"No way, is that,... dragon...!?"

Someone's little whine spread with fear.

"Duh, dragon!?

"Hey, you're lying, why are you all over the city like this!

Being that is supposed to only inhabit the cut off mountains that surround the country.

That too, two.

It's about the size of a horse, but it's just horrible when it comes to dragons.

Everyone no longer distorted their faces into fear enough to care about authenticity or anything else and just called them out.

"Wow!

"No! No! Oh! I don't want to die!! I don't want to die yet. No!!

Before such people, the small dragons move their forelegs at the same time, and.

'... heh.

I mocked him with my nose.

If not mistakenly seen, surely the dragons mocked the people with their noses, both at the same time.

The dragons keep walking their asses through people who have been stiffened by fear.

In that situation, people finally realized.

Every time the dragon moves forward, so does the lord's carriage.

The carriage is moving, as if nothing had happened, making the noise of gatagotto and wrecking pieces of wood that burn from time to time with wheels.

Because the dragon is pulling the carriage.

It was a distant sight, so much so that I had the wrong dream.

People were flabbergasted by the dragons wearing gear similar to horses and pulling the carriage proudly for some reason.

A creature called the Dragon was all too proud to think about pulling a human carriage.

But as a matter of reality, the carriage is drawn to the dragon.

How could you not realize its existence until the flames rose?

That's because the dragons themselves were haunted with phantoms so that they could look like horses, but no one could possibly know that.

The complexion of those who had not been able to return from the stiffness of despair or fear combined was bad.

I don't know what else to do.

Anyway, even a bad lord to the people, if they followed the dragon, they could no longer imagine a future in which they would perish.

Now, although we regret our actions, the time will not return.

Before that, the act of throwing stones at lords was not praised, and it was not strange for everyone to be beheaded, but they would not notice because of their stupidity.

They had no education, no knowledge, no experience, they remained stiff, just flushed.

And the carriage passes gracefully in front of such foolish people.

Painful silence dominated the neighborhood as several carriages passed for the lord's carriage and his escorts.

All you can hear is the slightest sound of a piece of wood burning pussy.

After I can't see the carriage lines out of the sight of the flashing crowd, I realize, uh, reality.

"Huh?"

"Is that it?"

It was perfectly, undoubtedly, unmistakably perfect, through.

People were staring at the end of the road where the carriage disappeared, with their mouths open and their clapped faces in a poker and dusk.

"Sir, was that a good idea?

"Never mind, leave me alone"

To the deacon's pale question, I return the words with a pale response, too, whilst giving one more sheet and paperwork.

Of course it's a real escape, good luck.

No, I don't have time to think about that, but I know there's nothing good behind it, but I want you to decide that you don't have a choice.

"I apologize for going too far."

"Never mind."

I ran my pen through some usual interaction with the deacon who showed signs of polite gratitude.

But I feel I was right to leave the soldiers in the other carriage, thinking there was absolutely something.

I thought I could throw about a stone, but I didn't think I could throw a chair or a table.

How much the hell do they hate you, Mr. Augusto?

I doubted my ears when it was reported by the butler, but the view from the window looked good outrageous by the fierce crowd.

I'm glad I made the lead this carriage.

If it were another carriage, you'd be in tow. Your horse would have been surprised and in a major accident.

Mr. Dragon won't hurt or itch.

No, I thought you had great courage throwing stones and stuff even though the dragons were there.

The people of the city are dull, aren't they?

Well, I thought you were largely insane at the point of throwing all sorts of things at Mr. Augusto's carriage, which should be the greatest in the territory.

I wonder if that's because there's no school in this city or anything.

I don't know what it is, but it's only in the Wang Capital, and what a civilian who doesn't have wizard qualities can't go to school.

It seems to be just the children of the basic aristocracy.

I mean, I guess that's the right thing to say about a lot of retards.

For once, Mr. Dragon asked me to just threaten the people in the realm even if they did something to him, so I don't think there were any dead people out there, but I guess I didn't have to throw up a fire.

I was so freaked out, people of the city.

I instructed him to run away because he got scared, but I don't think he had a choice.

That's getting away with it, 'cause as far as I can tell, it was a fuss.

People in the city were so confused.

By the way, the adventurers had them leave before they entered the city.

'Cause I don't know what to do when I get to the realm.

Hold on, I don't know what to do, what to do now.

Absolutely. Even Augusto's low reputation is even worse now.

Pay it off! I don't really want to spend the money, you know?

No, but that was gonna be self-defense, wasn't it, eh? It can't be, can it?

'Cause I came first from the other side, I'm sure I am.

I'm fine, maybe I'm fine!

We're all retarded, so what if we make an inexplicable change and they come with bills or something, but rather, what if they make rebels or something more than that?

You don't believe me no matter how much I say I don't want to be in power or anything, I feel terrific that I'm not trusted about that.

Hasn't there been a rumor to this city that Mr. Augusto has become a wise man yet?

No, even if you were here, maybe you can't help it because it's been before, but it stinks so bad to think that I'm going to have to do everything about it from now on.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, that stinks. Oh, I want to throw a round at someone. Whoa!

Even though I don't know what to do with governance, how to regain the trust of the people of the city.

Actually, I was wondering if I could figure it out when I got to the realm. You're too shallow to be half as good as yourself.

No, but that's what I thought until you really came, seriously.

I lost confidence when I saw the status quo! I don't have a choice!

Uh, I want to go home. I want to go home to Wang Du's mansion.

I just got here, but I want to go home now.

I want to go home and go to bed.

No, I would never do that.

It's just a wish, yes.

"Sir, it's time to arrive, so get ready."

"Okay, okay."

My consciousness came back to reality at the butler's call, so I gently stopped my hand and stuck my pen in my pen.

Apparently, we have reached Mr. Augusto's home, which is our destination for this one.

I arrived in this city after lunch, and now it's between 30 and 40 minutes?

In Augusto's memory, my parents' house, built by remodeling a fort that was built on high ground, was close to the castle through what a mansion it was.

Currently living are servants who were appointed as lord's deputies to look after their families, and Mrs. Vaneira Verstein, a former contemporary wife of the Verstein family who is retired and spending the rest of her life.

I mean, it's Mr. Augusto's mother.

Your father, by the way, died a few days before Mr. Augusto took the lead, from a disease different from the dead wood disease that deprived Mr. Julia.

It was when Mr. Augusto was only a student, and he was really sudden.

The rest of the sudden, he was well enough to suspect poisoning by someone, not death.

I remember being a captain of the Knights of the Kingdom, a very tough, strict, cold man.

Succeeding to the trail of a father who had become otherworldly at about the same age as Mr. Augusto today, Mr. Augusto had to be younger and more dominant.

When you think about it, it is extremely volatile.

That was tough, Mr. Augusto.

I guess I didn't even join the Knights recommended by the King because I couldn't afford it and because I wanted to be beside Mr. Julia.

Because we were fiancées decided by our parents, but we really loved each other.

Mr. Augusto, who succeeded the governor as soon as he graduated from school, is spending until Julia dies in the land.

The memories were too spicy and I never came home for 12 years.

At last, for all those twelve years, I left this territory to the Lords' proxy.

Instead of coming to the city once a year, just once every couple of years.

The laziness of coming but not doing anything in particular, not even meeting the Lords' deputies, throwing them round just in writing and going home.

I don't know what to say, unless I'm sorry.

It's so selfish, but it's all now.

Maybe I can't help it because no one could stop me, but I wonder how the hell my real mother felt.

If it's true, maybe I thought I had to run the territory.

But I don't think there was that much upbringing because I was noble.

At the time, it was common sense for noble women not to say anything about men's work.

Until that war began twelve years ago, it comes with the premise that

Sir, we're here.

"Okay."

To the words of the butler who hung on to the place where he was gathering the documents as he pondered, he rose from his seat with a dignified attitude, like Mr. Augusto.

It will be a 12-year reunion for Augusto to meet Augusto's mother.

From that sad day when Mr. Augusto changed, I'm sure Mr. Augusto's mother never met Mr. Augusto from herself before, because she was afraid to see her changed son.

I can easily imagine that.

In my memory, Mr. Augusto's mother was a very delicate man.

And I guess Augusto didn't meet his mother, who should be his real mother, because she reminds me of Julia at the potato ceremony.

... but I'm a little nervous to think I'm going to see you now.

I don't know if they'll find out, but the contents are different.

I wonder if she realizes that she is not the person because she sometimes exerts tremendous power in her mother's investigation.

I'm getting more and more anxious. I don't know what to do, I can't see you now or anything, you can't, yes, I'll give up.

I gave up everything to the figure of a butler who would open the door with respect.

I covered my feet feeling heavy by forcing myself to excite my feelings and moved them with concern for a grand attitude to look calm.

I've never seen it spread out before when I left the carriage, but it was in my memory, a very luxurious view.

It was a sight that the servants were greeting you with their heads bowed at the same time in front of a splendid front door, often in a rich foreign house.

That's the king's next greatest house servant in the country, even though I should have come home abruptly, I haven't shown any reaction, and I haven't kept my head down and slightly moved.

At that time, an old butler appeared without a sound.

"Welcome back, sir, the Grand Mistress is waiting for you in the study"

"Okay, let's go."

In Mr. Augusto's memory, this man has long been a butler who has supported Mr. Augusto's parents, and his name is certainly Gerardini Strohm, that is, of that butler who is so capable of us, your father.

Mr. Augusto and the butler are invaluable people who cannot lift their heads as one because they have been around for a long time.

Much older than he is in his memory, both his hair, which was a mixture of gray hair, and his carefully groomed moustache had become brighter than in the past twelve years, but the unchanging soft smile seems to remain in Mr. Augusto's memory.

He and I will be reunited for twelve years.

The reason I didn't see you is because, after all, you remind me of Julia.

Truly, Mr. Augusto is a loser.

With that in mind, I follow behind the old butler in a relaxed foothold with the butler.

"But what kind of wind blow is it?

The mundane old butler's inquiry seemed somewhere fun, and that made me skeptical.

"... there must have been a report?

"Yes, of course it is.

But I guess I can't help but want to hear it from my own mouth?

I don't know, it is, I just think, and as a result of desperate work on my head for what an answer I had, it was something close to irony that came out of my mouth.

"Hmm, you've been so great."

"No, there is no such demise.

I am and always have been a butler in the service of the Versteins, Auguste boy. "

Ha ha, I fell into some sort of uncomfortable feeling with the old butler, who laughed frankly.

"... boy stop, you're not that old anymore"

"For me, you'll always be a boy."

You're no match for Grandpa.

The old butler narrowed his eyes and laughed in nostalgia if he called it the same way as he remembered.

Well, it's a girl on top of someone else, but I swallowed the word without saying anything.

It's still painful to be naked, I like baths but I hate them.

So, the old butler's leg stopped, and apparently he arrived at the study that Mr. Augusto's mother was waiting for him.

Both open doors, which appeared luxurious but calm, as Mr. Augusto's memory stood, were respectfully opened by the hands of the old butler.

Beyond the door, in the middle of the study, she was there.

Because I'm older than I remember, my gray hair and wrinkles have become noticeable, but I still have a cute smile on my face, as Mr. Augusto remembers.

The man, in a light peach and a fancy dress full of frills, spoke to me with a very happy voice as soon as he saw me.

"Clifford! You're finally back at the wax!

How long the hell are you gonna keep me waiting? I can't forgive you for not apologizing! Because he really has no choice!

Without giving in, laughing as if she were a girl, I had a very, very bad feeling about Augusto's mother calling her son Augusto by another name.

"... Your Highness, this is not your eldest husband, but your son Auguste."

"What are you talking about, Gerardini, Augusto's still a student? Speaking of which, if I august, I won't send you a letter at all, don't you think it's okay to look like Clifford to that point? Hey, Clifford, you think so too, don't you?

The old lady smiling happily and lovingly, fluffy dreamy, adorably as if she were a doll, smiles and laughs as she calls Mr. Augusto Clifford.

"...... oh right"

That's all I could say anymore.

... God, let me hit you for a second.