Never Mind the Heir, I’ll Focus on Healing - Chapter 79

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Successor or Not, I Just Want to Heal — Episode 79

When I heard Baldotum’s story, one thing struck me.
These dwarves here were exhausted.
Like the territory folk around them, their lives grew brittle against the weight of endless repetition.
So of course there was no inspiration—no creative spark to speak of.
From an internal standpoint, it was an enormous problem.
The dwarves’ livelihood came from their work as smiths, whether they liked it or not—from making things.
But the moment they abandoned that work, or even began to hesitate, it would deal a serious blow not just to the village, but to their very lives.
Still.
Lion approached it from a different angle.
I thought I could understand their hearts, at least to some degree.

‘Why were they so worn down?’

How could I restore their spirits and help them find the resolve to work again?
More money?
A safer daily life?
Both were valid answers.
But something felt more important than that—I suspected it was meaning. Purpose.

‘The knowledge that something I made helps others.’

Not some trinket locked away in a house for display, and not a blade wielded against one’s own kin.
And I needed a real example—proof that it could be done.
Lion happened to have exactly the right thing.
Mudu’s Tool Set.
And fortunately, Lion’s instinct proved correct.
At first they were curious when told that Mudu—who had left the village—had made it, and amazed to learn it was a tool set, not a weapon.

“Mudu made this?”
“The one among us who loved crafting weapons most of all?”
“Heh heh… time is a fearsome thing, isn’t it.”

Each of the dwarves took up a tool and examined it carefully.
It was the habit of craftsmen.
How was the finish? What considerations had been made for the user?
How much care had gone into it?

“This is… I see.”
“The young man has no great strength, so he made it light as possible.”
“Yet there’s no problem using it, and it’s sturdy to boot. Look at the clever technique here.”

Seeing once is better than hearing a hundred times, as they say.
Curiosity became inquiry, and since these were already seasoned craftsmen, understanding came quickly.

“…Right. Why did we only think about making swords?”
“We could make tools instead.”
“Or everyday items people actually need!”

And that realization turned to action even faster.
The first thing they did was rekindle the furnace—nothing but embers left.
The forge that had been barely smoking began to heat quickly.
Soon bright red flames rose up, radiating intense warmth.
After that, they refined iron, hammered it, melted it.
Metal shavings scattered, heat shimmered and waves of warmth began to fill the space.
And the first item was completed!

“Yes. This is the feeling!”
“We really do love making things, don’t we?”

Hammering steel was the very instinct of dwarves.
As that primal thirst was satisfied, the dwarves’ faces naturally brightened.
Of course, this one moment wouldn’t reignite all the hearts that had grown cold until now.
But this was enough.
The rest would fall to Baldotum, the village chief and Mudu’s brother.

“Goodness…….”

Baldotum’s jaw dropped as he watched the Dwarf Village beginning to stir with life once more.

“That’s right. That was it.”

Trapped in the role of village chief, he’d briefly forgotten that these were his own relatives and neighbors.
All he’d been thinking about was how to comfort his own heart, which had set down the hammer.
But they must have felt exactly the same way!

“Your brother truly sent someone of great importance. I’m deeply grateful.”
“Please think nothing of it. I merely brought word that Mudu was doing well.”

That was true. Lion had done nothing at all.
He hadn’t stepped forward to work the hammer himself, nor had he offered words of encouragement.
He’d only brought news of Mudu to the dwarves, shown them the Tool Set, and placed a cherished Ring into the hands of Baldotum’s family.

“…….”

Clarentia, watching from a distance, tilted her head slightly.

“Curious.”

In truth, it made no sense to her.
That such simple things could restore their vitality.
It was undoubtedly a remarkable ability.
Clarentia gazed down at her own hands.
Since becoming a Sword Master, new soft flesh had grown in, leaving her hands smooth—unmarred by calluses or scars.
Yet these hands carried, in truth, far darker stains.
Monster blood and filth. Powerlessness and despair.
Even the blood of her own siblings, spilled in the name of vengeance.
Having experienced so much in such a brief span, she’d grown numb to it all.

“A ring…….”

Clarentia fell into thought for a moment, then touched her neck.
The bare hollow of it felt empty.

“What are you thinking about?”

Lion had already bid farewell to the people of the Dwarf Village and was approaching now.
He’d been shut up in the village chief’s home, speaking earnestly with them, and it seemed the matter had nearly reached its conclusion.

“I was thinking about the difficulties your people have faced.”
“I see.”
“I owe you thanks. Because of you, I learned of these hardships swiftly.”
“…….”

Lion smiled awkwardly.
As expected, he was stiff in speech.
Not cold, exactly, but like a plaster statue.

‘Still, it seems he does care about his territory folk.’

Lion recalled that night.
The night Baldotum had drunk himself into a stupor.
That was when Clarentia appeared without warning.
He’d been startled at first.

“Ah… How did you come to be here?”
“I was on patrol.”
“Alone, my lord?”
“So I’m told it falls among a lord’s duties.”
“I see.”
“Indeed.”

The conversation had felt awkwardly stilted, and her sudden appearance without escort was peculiar, but…
He’d written in his letter that he was ill and would be delayed.
Yet Clarentia seemed entirely unbothered.
She’d lifted his large frame lightly with one hand and made for the Dwarf Village.
Even with the Lockdown Order in place, the lord’s arrival and the village chief’s drunken state had made entry straightforward enough.
The Ring Lion carried had also proven its worth, lowering the guards’ suspicion considerably.

“What do you intend to do now, my lord?”
“I’d originally planned to visit Lion and inquire after his health.”

Having finished speaking, Clarentia fixed her gaze on Lion.
The meaning was clear enough—he hardly looked unwell.
Rather than offer excuses, Lion maintained that awkward smile from before.

“I don’t mean to reproach you. Either way, you’ve done good work.”

Good work.
From the lord’s perspective, the dwarves finding their vigor again would certainly count as that.

“Thank you. I’ll make certain to call on you as soon as possible.”

Andrie was a meticulous craftsman with swift hands.
By the time Lion returned to the Inn, all the work would be finished.
So he could enter Bydentis Castle by tomorrow at the latest.
But…
Lion studied Clarentia’s expressionless face.

‘What ordeal has she endured?’

He couldn’t fathom how a person could be worn down to such a degree.
Still, if he gave her the Necklace he’d obtained, perhaps it might offer some small comfort.
It was a family heirloom after all, valuable in its own right.

“Understood. I shall await your visit.”

Clarentia turned without hesitation.
With a strong retainer at her side, she clearly needed no further assistance.
Lion watched Clarentia vanish in an instant, then turned his head away.

“Strange sort of person, isn’t she? Or so it seemed last time as well.”
“…”

Elvia, who had appeared at Lion’s side, did not answer at once.
The lord Bydentis was certainly unusual.
But the young master conversing with her so casually could hardly be called ordinary himself… though.

“Indeed. You seem like quite a remarkable person.”

Elvia offered her agreement without revealing more than that.

* * *

At that very moment, in the Asteri Territory.

……

Ricshel Asteri furrowed his brow as he reviewed the report he’d just received.

“It seems my brother went through quite an ordeal.”

The contents were as follows.
Assailants had attacked Lion before he could even use the Warp Gate.
However, the attack had been thwarted by the special “escort” assigned with Elvia, and the attackers were disguised as bandits and handed over to the Lungren Territory.
It was likely the result of his brother taking pity on them.

“He should have simply killed them.”

They were people who’d aimed for his life. There was no reason to spare them.
Ricshel used Mana to burn the letter without a trace.

“How should we handle this?”
“It’s clear the followers of the First Imperial Prince were trying to send me a warning with this.”

The followers of the First Imperial Prince.
They were people one had to be far more cautious of than the Prince himself.
Using the simple-minded and foolish First Imperial Prince as their puppet, they were plotting to seize control of the imperial throne itself.
The Emperor either knew of this or turned a blind eye to it.

‘Probably because he fears that a bastard might come for his life.’

The Second Imperial Prince. Cayle Sol Aionis.
A bastard born when the current Emperor Taillius was a profligate Crown Prince.
Whether it was his stubborn destiny or mere luck, he’d survived assassination attempts and managed to claw his way up to the position of Second Imperial Prince himself—and was precisely the man Ricshel had marked as the next Emperor.
The Second Imperial Prince was someone Ricshel had been keeping his eye on as the future ruler.
Though he appeared considerably sickly, at least he was sharper than the First Imperial Prince, and having climbed from the bottom, Ricshel believed he would have a better grasp of his people’s lives.
When they’d actually spoken, Ricshel had received a similar impression, so he’d made up his mind to push the Second Imperial Prince toward the throne.
Once it became known that the next successor of House Asteri had aligned himself with the Second Imperial Prince, the followers of the First Imperial Prince naturally grew anxious.
But then what happened?
From that spotless House Asteri, a figure named Lion Asteri had emerged.
And it became known that Ricshel followed his elder brother Lion Asteri quite closely.
As a result.
Naturally, their schemes extended toward his brother.
He had anticipated it.
The Family Head and he both.
But… now that such an attack had actually come…

“How disagreeable.”

Ricshel smiled thinly as he stared at the report, now nothing but ash.

‘If I possessed strength equal to the Family Head’s, would my brother have been subjected to such a ridiculous attack?’

Certainly not.
Ricshel himself was undoubtedly a formidable master.
He had mastered the Fourth Circle and was gazing upon the threshold of the Fifth Circle.
For someone who had not yet reached adulthood to have achieved such growth was almost beyond belief for a human being.

“Those who are not mages don’t seem to perceive it.”

The First Imperial Prince’s followers appeared unable to sense it at all.

“Clean up everything and return it to its owner.”

Ricshel wiped the ash from his hands with a towel as he pronounced judgment.

* * *

Fortunately, Andrie had completed the garment exactly as Lion had anticipated.
Perfectly. Absolutely perfectly.

“Haha… hahaha! It’s perfect! Absolutely perfect! This angle! This edge! This texture! It’s flawless in every conceivable way!”

He seemed slightly unhinged from the pressure of a tight deadline, but it was still a relief.

“You worked hard.”
“Not at all! Thanks to you, I recognized my weaknesses and reinforced the garment more cleanly. I should be thanking you instead.”

Andrie bowed deeply several times over.

“And more than that… didn’t you even buy me time?”
“Buy you time?”
“I heard the blacksmith Mudu made a request, but you didn’t need to step in and deliver it yourself…!”

Well, was that really the case?

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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