When the heavy door swung open, the scent of burning wood and bitter medicinal herbs filled Átila's lungs. The chamber was dim but warmer than the corridors outside, lit by the glow of a large hearth. Shadows danced against the stone walls, and a thick fur rug lay stretched across the floor. Near the window sat Baron Ulrich Suevo, his broad frame wrapped in a cloak lined with wolf pelts.
He looked older than the memories Átila carried—older and far more tired. His once-powerful hands rested on the armrests, the veins on his knuckles prominent, the calluses of a lifetime of war still visible. His beard, streaked heavily with gray, moved slightly as he exhaled.
"Come closer, boy," Ulrich said, his voice gravelly but still bearing the authority of a man used to command.
Átila stepped forward, forcing his heartbeat to remain steady. The old baron studied him with sharp, experienced eyes—eyes that had seen battlefields, betrayals, and the slow erosion of a frontier lord's strength.
"You gave us quite a scare," Ulrich said slowly. "Roderik found you collapsed in the yard. I thought… I feared your heart had finally failed."
Átila bowed his head. "I'm sorry to have worried you."
The baron raised an eyebrow. "Sorry? Since when does my son apologize for anything?"
Átila froze. His mind scrambled for a response, but Ulrich simply let out a low chuckle that turned into a cough.
"Maybe the gods knocked some sense into you when they brought you back," he muttered, settling deeper into his chair. "Either way… I'm grateful you stand before me."
As Átila approached, faint blue letters flickered at the edge of his vision—words only he could see.
[System Notice: Synchronization at 12% complete.]
[New Objective: Assess the current condition of House Suevo]
He resisted the urge to react. The last thing he needed was to appear confused before the baron.
Ulrich motioned for him to sit on the stool opposite him. "Look around, Átila. Do you see this room?"
Átila glanced around. The walls were adorned with faded maps, patched banners, and old weapons dulled by time. A long sword with a chipped edge rested above the fireplace. A wooden table beside the baron was cluttered with scrolls, ink pots, and a ledger half-open, full of numbers that painted a grim picture.
"Yes," Átila said. "It's… old."
"Old," the baron repeated with a nod. "Like me. Like this keep. Like our entire house."
He leaned forward, lowering his voice.
"We stand on the edge of the kingdom. The crown ignores us. The raiders press harder every winter. Our walls crack, our armory thins, and our coffers shrink." His jaw tightened. "I once carried this burden with pride. But pride is a young man's fire. Mine burns low now."
Átila listened carefully. The weight of the baron's words settled on him like chainmail.
"I cannot hold this frontier alone anymore," Ulrich continued. "My hands grow weak. My breath shortens every month. I need you, Átila. I need you to begin taking responsibility—not tomorrow, not next year. Now."
Átila's thoughts raced. He barely understood this world, but he understood a few things clearly: the house was crumbling, the frontier was dangerous, and he was expected to lead.
As if responding to his realization, the system chimed again.
[Main Quest Unlocked: Take command of House Suevo.][Sub−Quest: Evaluate Military Strength]
Reward:Leadership+1∣Stewardship+1[Sub−Quest: Inspect Castle Infrastructure.]
Reward:Leadership+1∣Stewardship+1
Ulrich watched him intently, unaware of the blue light reflecting faintly in Átila's eyes.
"You look troubled," the baron said. "Speak your mind."
Átila took a slow breath. "I… want to help. I will help. But I need to understand the situation fully. Everything. The castle, the soldiers, the villages."
Ulrich stared at him for a long moment, and for the first time, there was a glimmer of something like hope in his expression.
"Then perhaps you have finally become the man I prayed you would be." He motioned toward the door. "Go. Walk the grounds. Talk to Roderik. See the men drill. Look at the walls yourself. And tonight, come back to me with what you have learned."
Átila stood.
"I will, Father."
As he turned toward the door, Ulrich spoke one last time, softer than before.
"And, Átila… I am proud you survived."
Átila paused, then nodded. When he stepped out of the chamber and the heavy door closed behind him, a quiet chime echoed in his mind.
[Quest Started:Responsibilities of an Heir]
He let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
A new life.A crumbling fortress.And a frontier waiting to be rebuilt.
He straightened his back and began walking down the corridor.
Whatever this world expected of him, he would face it—one step, one sword, one decision at a time.