In front of the courtyard.
Sunlight shone on Allen's face. He raised an eyebrow slightly, as if lost in thought.
Above his nose, only visible to himself, the smoke and dust floated like a hazy veil.
Allen's thoughts moved rapidly.
Just as expected—actively "brushing" favorability with my father earns me part of the participation score.
Allen already understood clearly how favorability worked. Influencing original story characters through emotions like importance, recognition, appreciation, friendship, familial affection, or brotherhood all counted—not just romantic feelings, as he had once instinctively thought.
Two assessments, short time limit. Two expectations, longer duration.
Based on previous experiences, the system always releases tasks in response to real-world developments. That means the "assessments" are immediate, and if I'm right, the next one is about to happen. The expectations likely come later—perhaps after returning to the capital.
One of the two assessments is already complete, and it was marked as [completed early]? Because I matched his preferences and earned his admiration, he acknowledged my abilities in advance?
That's probably it. If one assessment is "capability," then the next...
It's likely "strength."
Allen recalled the feeling of being watched from the passing carriage earlier. He grinned.
If I'm right, the next test will probably be handled by Ghislaine. Those feline eyes—though I only caught a glimpse—they were clear as day. I have to admit, the Boreas family's peculiarities sometimes have legitimate uses.
But why hasn't Ghislaine come out? Is she the hiding type?
[Who knows?]
Snapping out of his thoughts, Allen noticed that Brother Paul still hadn't responded. He glanced at Philip, who still wore that squinty-eyed expression, then turned to Paul in confusion.
The miracle swordsman was still farming.
No—Brother Paul was still stunned.
He had been like this ever since Philip arrived.
The letter on the desk upstairs had only arrived yesterday. Paul had been agonizing over how to respond in a way that would cleanly explain things. He'd even planned to say something like, "This Allen fellow has absolutely no connection to your son, just a dear friend I spar with often."
But before he could even pick up the pen—
Allen's dear friend's dad had shown up at the front door.
"Huh?"
The moment Paul laid eyes on Philip, his mind went blank.
Aside from his concern for Allen, he also felt a ridiculous sense of panic—like that time in noble school when an angry father came to confront him.
That must be an illusion.
Now, seeing how Allen had almost effortlessly diffused the entire crisis, Paul couldn't help but be reminded of an old party member from the Black Wolf Fangs—Keith Nocardia, the thief.
That guy's social skills were astonishingly similar to Allen's.
Paul quickly shook his head, trying to shake out the absurd thoughts, and looked at Philip—who was still smiling, waiting for a response.
Philip…
His distant cousin had always been consumed by political ambition. Even back then, when he offered Paul help, it had an ulterior motive—Paul was the Notos family's eldest son, the legal heir. Even if he ran away from home, there was still political value in that bloodline.
But once Philip realized Paul was sincerely living a peaceful life in the countryside, he lost interest and stopped bringing up politics altogether.
He had clearly written Paul off as a discarded pawn.
Even so, Paul had never once spoken ill of Philip in front of Allen.
Because deep down, he wanted Allen to experience real family affection—not repeat the same bitter misunderstandings he had with his own father.
But now...
Paul glanced at Allen, whose face was still calm and composed.
Allen really reacts fast. So steady.
He instantly figured out that hiding the relationship for now is best—not just for Philip, but for himself, and for Charles in Roya too. Philip must have already realized Allen's identity. No—knowing Philip,
he probably figured it out when he wrote the letter.
Standing beside Paul, Philip still wore his ever-present smile. It was clear he was waiting.
Paul looked into those squinty eyes and asked himself:
Does Allen want to go to Roya?
Didn't I suggest it two years ago and he rejected it outright?
Living under his father's supervision? Does he like Philip?
No. He likes his current home.
Since that's the case...
Just reject it for him.
Luckily, there's no need to hide Allen's identity now. Everyone understands without saying it. So now, just give Philip a firm refusal.
Although Paul had taken a bit too long in Allen's eyes, from an ordinary person's perspective—like Philip's—it was just a slightly delayed reaction.
"Well, we haven't had time to talk with them yet. I didn't expect you to come so soon."
Paul let out an awkward laugh, forced on a serious face, and carefully said:
"I've considered your letter, but I can't decide for Allen and Rudy. They have their own opinions. Besides, don't you think it's a bit early, Philip? They're still so young to be recruited."
Still, he couldn't quite catch up with the pace of events, and his voice faltered.
At that moment—
Rudy finally let out a sigh of relief and began watching Philip with curiosity.
Sylphy's expression relaxed slightly. She looked at Paul's moving lips with a pale face, twisting the hem of her usually-prized dress.
Allen also glanced at Brother Paul, a slight smile on his lips.
Maybe this is what it means to care too much. When people suddenly face changes, they instinctively cling to what they cherish.
The word "change" stirred something in Allen's heart. In the corner of his eye, Philip's smile didn't change.
His lips moved slightly—he was about to say something.
The glimpse of the irrigation canal earlier flashed through Allen's mind.
His smile froze.
The smoke and dust from the system panel still hovered in front of his eyes.
That line floated up again:
[You didn't wait for the "assessment" content set by Philip.]
Wait, no way...
He suddenly looked toward the second carriage.
The sound of scuffling clothes inside became louder.
The next moment—
Bang!
The carriage door was kicked open!
Crimson waves surged in the air.
A blazing red mane, as bright as paint, rippled outward.
Hotter than fire.
"I told you not to cover my mouth!!"
"Miss!! Please behave like a proper lady in public! We clearly agreed you wouldn't come out unless the master allowed it!"
"Hmph!"
A girl with fierce eyes jumped from the carriage, yelling impatiently at the cat-eared maid behind her. She planted her hands on her hips, legs wide apart, like a little lion staking her territory in front of the stunned crowd.
"Who is Allen?!"