The banquet lasted for another two hours before the slightly drunk nobles finally left the Duke’s mansion.
As the servants began cleaning up the dining hall, Orson felt a hand tap him on the shoulder.
“Orson, co with to the study. I have sothing to discuss with you privately,” Lucius said as he began walking upstairs.
—
In the study, Lucius sat behind his desk while Orson stood respectfully in front of it.
“Orson, how old are you this year?” Lucius asked casually while flipping through a book.
“Father, I am eighteen this year.”
“Eighteen... eighteen... What a fine age...” Lucius sighed wistfully. “Ti really does fly.”
“If I may ask, Father, why did you call here?” Orson leaned forward slightly, a hint of curiosity in his tone.
“Orson, what do you think of Litte?” Lucius asked.
“It’s just the two of us here—there’s no need to hold anything back. Speak freely and honestly.”
“...” Orson pondered for a mont before replying, “To answer Father, in my opinion, Litte is a good child. At the very least, he is kind-hearted and considerate of others’ feelings.”
“A good child.” Lucius couldn’t help but chuckle at Orson’s choice of words. “You say ‘a good child’ as if you’re a generation older than Litte. Don’t forget, you two are the sa age.”
“I’m asking—do you think Litte has the ability to inherit my position?” Lucius shifted the discussion, his sharp gaze fixed firmly on Orson.
“He does.” Orson replied without a mont’s hesitation. “Litte absolutely has the ability to carry on Father’s legacy.”
On this point, Orson was absolutely sure. After all, the protagonist’s halo guaranteed it. In the original story, after inheriting the title of Duke, Litte had managed the territory exceptionally well.
“Oh?” Lucius raised an eyebrow, surprised by Orson’s imdiate and confident answer.
He had expected Orson to respond positively, but he hadn’t anticipated him to reply so quickly and with such certainty, as if he had complete faith in Litte’s capabilities.
“Tell , why do you think so? You saw for yourself that Litte’s performance today was far from satisfactory.”
“Well, since you’re asking, I’ll explain,” Orson said with a smile before continuing. “A fledgling phoenix remains a phoenix, even if it falls into a flock of chickens. Its inherent qualities do not change.”
“Litte has lived in the countryside for many years, receiving an extrely limited education. Considering this, what kind of mindset do you think he’d have upon entering our family? Most people in his position would have the ntality of a nouveau riche, basking in sudden wealth and status. But Litte isn’t like that—he remains composed and calm.”
“Moreover, I’ve always considered myself a good judge of character. While Litte may not know much right now, given ti, his achievents will undoubtedly surpass my own.”
“Surpass you...” Lucius repeated, falling into deep thought.
This son of his, who shared no blood relation with him, was already widely regarded as the strongest and most talented young man in the Empire. Yet here he was, claiming that Litte would one day surpass him?
Lucius found it hard to believe.
“Orson, are you serious?”
“I have no reason to deceive you, Father.”
“Alright.” Lucius nodded.
If Orson, who had no blood ties to Litte and even stood as a potential rival, held such high regard for him, then as Litte’s father, Lucius could not afford to neglect him either.
The most imdiate priority was to find Litte a good teacher.
“In that case, Orson, I plan to find a teacher for Litte—soone to guide him in noble etiquette, culture, combat, and magic. Do you have anyone in mind for the role?” Lucius asked, a subtle smile playing on his lips.
“A teacher?” Orson paused, searching through his mories for any suitable candidates in this world.
The conclusion he arrived at was none.
In the original story, Litte’s growth could be summarized in four words: self-taught prodigy.
As long as Litte was provided with the necessary resources, his almost monstrous talent allowed him to learn at speeds several tis—or even hundreds of tis—faster than the average person.
After a mont, Orson shook his head.
“Apologies, Father. If you’re looking for a teacher who is a true jack-of-all-trades, I can’t think of anyone who fits the bill.”
“Is that so?” Lucius chuckled. “Heh... isn’t the ‘jack-of-all-trades’ you speak of standing right in front of ?”
“Huh?” Orson blinked, montarily stunned. “Father, what do you an?”
“Since you hold Litte in such high regard and understand him so well, I believe only you can guide him down the right path.”
“Moreover, you’re his brother. You’re close in age and already seem to have built a good relationship on his first day here. The most suitable teacher for him—the one he’s most likely to accept—is you, isn’t it?”
Hearing this, Orson froze.
Then he rembered.
In the original story, Orson hadn’t been so friendly with Litte on their first day together. As a result, Lucius had arranged for a different teacher for Litte.
That teacher had been a well-known professor from the nearby area, renowned for his fairness and impartiality. Under his guidance, Litte’s personality had gradually shifted from weak and timid to strong and resolute.
However, the teacher had eventually offended Orson and was dismissed. His replacent was soone recomnded by Mary.
No matter how hard Litte worked to improve, the new teacher constantly reported negatively to Lucius, falsely claiming that Litte was lazy and neglecting his studies.
Had he just altered the course of the story?
The more difficult Litte’s life beca, the more resentnt he harbored toward the family—and toward Orson. Ultimately, this would only make it easier for the protagonist, once fully awakened to his halo, to turn against Orson.
Besides, there truly wasn’t anyone more suited to ntoring Litte than soone who knew the plot like the back of his hand.
Heh, every little kindness counts. When teaching Litte, I’ll make sure to instill in him the value of repaying acts of kindness tenfold.
With this thought in mind, Orson nodded.
“I understand, Father. I will do my best to teach Litte.”
“Good. Hearing that puts my mind at ease.” Lucius stood up from his chair and patted Orson firmly on the shoulder.
The strength of his palm conveyed a sense of heavy responsibility, filling Orson with a newfound sense of duty.
Lucius locked eyes with Orson, holding his gaze for several seconds before nodding in satisfaction.
“Alright, you can go rest now. It’s been a long day for you as well. Starting tomorrow, begin teaching Litte. Let’s aim to have him ready to pass the admission exam for the Imperial Academy.”
“Understood.” Orson nodded.
As he reached the door, Orson suddenly stopped, turning back to Lucius.
“By the way, Father, when I brought Litte back earlier, the servants ntioned that his room still hadn’t been prepared. May I ask why? You’ve known about Litte’s return for quite so ti, haven’t you?”
“Is that so?” Lucius frowned at the news. “I had entrusted that task to your mother. She likely forgot. Where is Litte staying now?”
“I’ve allowed him to rest in my room for the ti being.”
“Alright. I’ll speak with Mary about this later. You can go now.” Lucius nodded.
“Understood.” Orson nodded, then opened the door and left.
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