In A Fantasy World I Can Absorbs Abilities

The treasurer looked puzzled for a moment, wondering why women's jewelry was chosen. Chancellor Lant leaned over to whisper, "The prince has sought permission to marry Princess Elise of Elonia. The king opposed it before but seems inclined to agree now, given his recent achievements. Elonia's renewed hope makes it timely."

Realization dawned on the treasurer, his expression darkening. A royal marriage! The wedding, likely to follow the war's conclusion, would undoubtedly drain the treasury.

Michael stood outside his father Dominic's quarters, summoned unexpectedly. Strangely, there were no guards or attendants at the door.

"I should have brought Miaomiao," Michael thought, gripping his sword hilt. If trouble arose, the shadowy presence of Isperman might not be enough.

Just as he prepared to draw his blade, the door opened, and Dominic stepped out.

"You're here. Come in," he said warmly. "I sent the guards and attendants away. I wanted to speak with you privately tonight."

Michael sighed in relief and followed Dominic inside. The room was warm, the crackling fireplace casting a cozy glow. It wasn't particularly cold, and Michael noted the unusual gesture.

Catching his son's glance toward the fire, Dominic raised his wrist with a smile.

"Ah, an old wound from the previous war. My wrist and chest ache terribly at night, and I occasionally cough. The healers can't help, but keeping warm eases the pain."

Michael thought of the grueling marches they had endured the previous winter. His father had never complained.

Pouring wine into two glasses, Dominic's face carried a mix of emotions—regret, pride, and joy.

"This is the first time we're sharing a drink together," Dominic said.

"Then let's make it a regular thing," Michael replied with a small smile.

"We should," Dominic agreed. "I've been neglectful, haven't I?"

Michael bowed his head, unsure how to respond. The father he remembered was a quintessential medieval knight—placing duty to the family above personal bonds. How could he respond to such a man?

Dominic's thoughts mirrored Michael's in many ways. As a father, he had tried to lead by example, living by strict discipline and responsibility. Perhaps too much, he realized now.

"I know I haven't always been the father you deserved," Dominic said softly, his voice heavy with emotion. "But I did my best."

"I understand," Michael replied. "You've always done what you believed was right. I respect that."

For a moment, Dominic's eyes grew misty as he looked at his son, so much like himself. Turning away, he walked to the window, gazing at the fiery sunset.

"I've made my decision," Dominic said at last. "For the sake of our family, I will retire. From this moment on, the head of the Crassus family is you, Michael."

"A family head? Does this mean your health has worsened?" Michael asked, startled by the unexpected announcement. His gaze bore into Dominic, searching for answers.

Dominic smiled gently, as though soothing his son's concerns. "No, it's not that. I'm stepping down to focus the family's power on you. With your recent accomplishments, the kingdom will undoubtedly elevate our title. When that happens..."

He paused, meeting Michael's eyes. "It would mean little if I remained the head of the family. But if you, as the head, receive the promotion, it changes everything. There's a distinct difference between a future count leading the charge and a count already holding that title."

Understanding dawned on Michael, and his eyes gleamed with realization.

"That makes sense," he replied. "But I've never been formally trained as a successor."

Being a family head came with tremendous responsibility—not only for the legal and administrative duties but also for safeguarding the family's legacy and the futures of its retainers. Michael would need to lead daily meetings, oversee decisions, and take ultimate accountability.

Dominic chuckled, sensing his son's apprehension. "Don't worry about that. I'll continue handling the day-to-day matters alongside the retainers, just as I do now. Your focus will remain on the battlefield."

His confidence in Michael was evident in his gaze, a mix of pride, faith, and even reverence. Dominic's unwavering belief in his son's abilities had been shaped by Michael's remarkable accomplishments.

Feeling the weight of his father's trust, Michael managed a sheepish smile. "In that case, I'll accept."

Dominic's face lit up with a broad smile at his son's agreement. He began sharing a piece of family history Michael had never learned.

"You weren't trained as a successor, so you may not know this, but our family descends from an ancient kingdom."

Michael, already aware of his royal lineage through the artifacts of Ariadne, listened intently. While he knew of his royal blood, the details of how a former royal house had become mere vassals were a mystery to him.

"It's a long-forgotten tale known only to the family head and their successor," Dominic continued. "Our lineage nearly ended, and our ancestral lands have long been lost. But the truth remains—we carry royal blood."

Taking a sip of wine, Dominic resumed.

"According to continental law, even if a kingdom falls, a royal descendant can reclaim ownership of their lands if they liberate them. Of course, that's nothing more than a dream now."

His eyes drifted to the distant horizon as though envisioning the grandeur of their ancestors.

"After the kingdom's collapse, surviving royals sought refuge with loyal retainers. Our ancestor changed their name and pledged themselves to a count in Lania. Initially welcomed as guests, they eventually became retainers themselves."

Dominic paused, watching Michael closely. His gaze held both regret for lost glory and hope that his son might forge a new path. Restraining himself to avoid burdening Michael, he added in a lighter tone, "But don't worry, I'm not asking you to rebuild a kingdom or anything absurd like that. Relax. You're not planning to claim the throne, are you?"

Michael laughed, knowing full well that any ambitions he harbored were not ready to surface. Dominic, sensing his son's restraint, smiled warmly.

"I'm telling you this so you understand the last request of our ancestors," Dominic explained. "Though they fled with nothing, they left behind one wish: 'If the opportunity arises, reclaim the old lands.' Pass this along to your own heir one day."

Dominic placed a firm hand on Michael's shoulder, and the two exchanged a smile. No further words were needed to convey the depth of their understanding.

With Michael's agreement, the process moved swiftly. By the next day, after relaying the Crassus family's decision through Duke Capone, an official decree bearing the Crown Prince's seal arrived. Michael was now the head of the Crassus family.