Kays Translations

Chapter 41: Ditnell

During the winter, Blows-san had delivered the spinning wheel and the loom, which allowed me to finish the maintenance of my tools before spring arrived.

The cotton winder, shaped somewhat like a hybrid of a spinning wheel and a cotton candy machine, used a shaft drive with bevel gears and bearings on the axle to spin the fiber with precision.

Incidentally, making the balls for the bearings was surprisingly simple: if you melt iron of uniform weight in a domain sphere, the sphere’s natural tendency to gather material toward its center will automatically form perfect spheres without any effort.

As for the spiders… unfortunately—or perhaps fortunately—they were nowhere to be found, as if in deep hibernation. Stefana and Rugena looked relieved, though their relief came with a hint of disappointment.

It was understandable that they couldn’t be found, but I still had them enter the forest once a week to determine when the spiders disappeared. From this, we discovered that the period from late November to the end of March was entirely free of spiders.

And then, spring arrived.

A familiar figure came to the village.

He wore a green military uniform—neither flashy nor practical—and had the same bluish-silver hair as ours. It had been three years since I last saw him, yet I could never forget that face, reminiscent of Mother.

This was none other than my mother’s former younger brother, my own uncle: the second son of the Viscount Kaupels family, Ditnell Kaupels.

Along with him were three knightly guards, five adventurers, two maids, and two attendants, all arriving in two carriages right in front of our house.

It was rare for nobility, aside from the lord of the manor, to visit a remote rural village, and the villagers were staring from a distance, curious about the unusual spectacle.

“…Oneesan, what are you wearing? I never imagined you had fallen so far as to don such rags,” Ditnell said, frowning at Mother.

Usually, she was immaculate, but now she was wearing clothes suitable for farm work, dirt-stained from tending the fields.

“Come along. You will, as planned, marry Zernike-sama,” he continued.

As planned… Zernike… marriage?

“I cannot fathom what pleases you, yet here you are, still playing in the mud with defective company. Whatever happened to the noble sister I once knew?”

Defective company… mud play…

“Enough. I only need to deliver my sister to Zernike-sama,” Ditnell said, instructing the maids.

“What—!?”

I lunged forward at his words, but Rugena stopped me in time. She glared at me, then pointed at Mother, and I understood immediately: Mother was furious.

The maids seemed frozen, paralyzed under her gaze.

“Greetings, noble sir. I am Martine. I do not know whom you mistake me for, but ordering an abduction in broad daylight—how dare you?”

Mother’s voice was polite, her lips curved in a smile, but her eyes were sharp and merciless.

“An abduction? No! I have come to bring back my sister!” Ditnell retorted, glancing around before answering her.

Well, it wasn’t technically an abduction, but anyone could see he was trying to forcibly take her.

“I am sorry, but I have no brother. To call me your sister is presumptuous, and such a claim is utterly absurd,” Mother responded, maintaining her stance: ‘I am not family.’

On paper, they were no longer related, yet blood ties cannot simply be severed. Half of what Mother said was true; the rest was a mere technicality.

“Enough! I did not come all the way to this remote village to indulge your games,” Ditnell snapped.

“Games? Then perhaps you should leave promptly. The village was nearly destroyed by monsters last year,” Mother replied, her voice calm but carrying the weight of experience.

Her words carried power; she had witnessed death firsthand. The maids and attendants noticed the villagers nodding in agreement and instinctively held their breath.

“Then let us be quick about it. I too would rather not be in such a remote place,” Ditnell said.

“Then why did you come at all?” Mother said, chuckling lightly as she provoked him.

“Enough! Because of that foolish sister of mine, I am forced to come all the way to this backwater. Enough! Capture her!”

The knights approached Mother at his command. Seeing this, Stefana and Rugena stepped in front of her, holding the knights at bay.

“This is no place for mere servants. Stay back if you value your lives,” one knight warned, but neither Stefana nor Rugena flinched. The tension was palpable, ready to ignite at any moment.

“Are you sure about this?”

“About what?”

“You seem to have forgotten. This is the domain of Baron Merlot. Using force in another’s territory constitutes an act of aggression.”

As per kingdom law, force could only be used outside one’s domain for self-defense or when encountering a crime in progress, except with the permission of the lord and with companions present. Ditnell had neither permission nor legal grounds.

“So what? The baron cannot judge a viscount’s family,” Ditnell scoffed.

“Does that mean you refuse to abide by kingdom law?”

“—I did not say that. Lower-ranked people must obey those above them,” he replied, his mindset steeped in rigid hierarchy.

I remembered Mother explaining this kind of thinking: those who wield hierarchy like a weapon tend to be harshest to those beneath them. I had thought, ‘It’s like a middle manager venting frustrations downward.’

“So you admit to flouting the kingdom’s law, don’t you?”

“Still insolent, I see. But other houses cannot interfere in family matters,” Ditnell said. Another kingdom law: internal affairs of a noble family were off-limits.

“I am not your family,” Mother said again.

“I am tired of that line… Fine. If Oneesan obediently marries Zernike-sama, I will allow even your defective companion to carry the Kaupels name,” Ditnell said.

“No, that’s unnecessary,” I blurted, too incredulous to stay silent.

All eyes turned to me. The statement had been utterly ridiculous, and I could not help but speak out.

“You insolent defective! It’s your fault this whole mess happened!”

I had no reply to that, but Mother did. Swiftly and without hesitation, she delivered a slap to Ditnell—quick, precise, and unforgiving.

“Are you satisfied now?”

Ditnell smirked, as if a mere slap meant nothing.

“Your insolence never ends, Ditto,” she said.

“And your sharp tongue is worse, Oneesan,” he retorted.

They glared at each other for a while, but then Mother exhaled, said, “Come inside,” and entered the house alone.

We followed, keeping an eye on Ditnell and his entourage as we trailed after Mother into the house.

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