Lord of Rot

"How are you?" Stacy walked over and reached out a hand to him.

Leech took Stacy’s hand, using it to pull himself up.

"It hurts," Leech said with a grin, "but that power... it’s incredible."

The breastplate was caved in from her strike, a pitiful sight.

The Soldiers watching the training had long expected this outcome, and they all gave Leech sympathetic looks.

"Do you always spar with girls when you take them on a date?" Stacy asked as she quickly unbuckled his armor so he could check his injuries.

Seeing this, the others tactfully turned and left.

They had all been sent flying by Miss Stacy, but this time seemed a little different.

Miss Stacy’s attitude was different.

With any other young noble, Miss Stacy would have turned and left long ago.

Leech lifted his shirt. Thankfully, it was just a bruise. ’It’d be pretty embarrassing to get seriously injured over a simple spar.’

"I’ve never dated any other girls," Leech said, shaking his head. ’He knew a trap when he heard one.’ He added, "But I’m pretty sure dates don’t usually involve sparring."

Stacy looked at him. "Then why did you want to come to the training grounds?"

"Because when I first saw you today, I found the way you wield a sword very... captivating," he said, rubbing his chest. "Although, being on the receiving end of it isn’t exactly pleasant."

Stacy froze for a moment.

’So Leech was just like those other young nobles, spouting the same cheesy lines. Except... she didn’t hate it.’

’Maybe it was because he had bested her with his Swordsmanship, or because he had ridden to her rescue. Or perhaps it was because he valued her for wielding a sword rather than wearing a long dress. It gave her a sense of validation.’

She just wanted to be understood.

Stacy changed the subject. "When we were little, I used to make you cry."

"You still do," Leech replied, rubbing his chest with a wince.

"I’ll find an Alchemist to treat that. You should go back and rest."

Leech nodded eagerly. ’Thank goodness it was my cousin. If I’d faced an enemy Extraordinary Knight, I’d have been torn to pieces or smashed into a pulp.’

When word that Stacy had struck down Leech with a single blow winged its way to the study, the servants heard only Lord Lewis roaring, "I’ll kill her! Bode, don’t stop me! I’ll kill her!"

Bode replied, "You can’t beat her."

The old man’s sighs grew more frequent.

...

Having had his injury treated, Leech lay in bed, contemplating the significance of Extraordinary Knights.

They were, without a doubt, living weapons capable of changing the course of a small-scale battle.

From what he’d observed, Extraordinary Knights had different specializations and manifested their power in different ways. The one in Iron Stone City, who shone with a golden light, had immense defense and speed.

Stacy possessed incredible explosive power.

But their shared trait was a physical prowess that far surpassed that of ordinary people.

If Extraordinary Knights formed a heavy cavalry unit of just one hundred, Leech couldn’t imagine anyone on the continent of Lu Leiyi who could stop them.

They would likely have to fight until they were too exhausted to continue, but from what Leech had seen, Stacy had been completely at ease during their long duel. She wasn’t tired at all.

If such a force were used in a decapitation strike, who could possibly defend against it?

As the number of Extraordinary Knights grew, the political landscape of the continent was bound to be rewritten. But that day was probably still far off. ’I should just keep my head down and focus on development. Farm! Build infrastructure! Growth is the only path forward.’

After all, wars are fought with gold.

「The next morning.」

Leech got out of bed. His injury had healed considerably; it didn’t hurt too much as long as he didn’t move too vigorously.

The family was supposed to have breakfast together, but when Leech arrived, only his uncle Lewis was present.

"Did you rest well?" Lewis’s expression was grim; he looked as if he hadn’t slept well.

"Well enough," Leech nodded. "The beds here are much softer than in Porcupine Territory."

The bed was indeed soft. ’But he preferred a firmer mattress; overly soft beds made his back ache.’

"Where’s my cousin Bode?" Leech asked.

"Dealing with the Fishmen," Lewis said. "He’s taken a keen interest in those little monsters."

Leech had always been curious about the Fishmen. He suspected a lair or dungeon was behind their appearance.

"Stacy went to see a good friend of hers, though I told her that as your cousin, she should be showing you around."

"I can look around by myself," Leech said. "I’m quite interested in Linta Bay."

"You’ll fall in love with it," Lewis said, rising from his seat. "Apologies, but I have matters to attend to."

Leech nodded in understanding.

His mother’s family, the Wisdoms, had a similar management style to Leech’s own: all important matters had to be handled by a family member personally. With a population far exceeding Porcupine Territory, Linta Bay had an immense number of daily affairs to manage.

After breakfast, Leech spent the better part of the day lying in his room. Boredom proved far more unbearable than pain. He took the initiative to find his uncle Lewis and ask for some books to read.

And so, he was brought to the library.

It was a round tower about four stories high. A spiral staircase wound its way up, with bookshelves placed within arm’s reach of the steps.

Looking up, the dizzying array of densely packed books made Leech feel as if he had fallen into a spiraling dream.

The legacy of knowledge and history preserved by an ancient family was something a new noble house could never hope to match. The pitifully small collection in Porcupine Territory’s study had all been purchased by Leech himself after he arrived in this world.

He let out a long breath.

This ocean of knowledge was almost oppressive.

The male servant who had led Leech to the library exchanged a few words with the old man in charge of the books. He then approached Leech and said quietly, "My lord, you can ask the old bookman for help finding what you need. I’ll take my leave now."

"Alright, thank you."

Leech looked at the "old bookman." He was a quintessential northerner with a large nose and thinning, salt-and-pepper hair that grew in stubborn patches on his scalp.

The old bookman noticed Leech’s gaze and shot him an unfriendly glare.

’He didn’t just have the northerner’s gene for hair loss, but their signature bad temper as well!’

"Hello, I’d like to find some books," Leech said.

The old bookman sized him up, then turned, grabbed a stack of books, and set them on a table. The books were clearly handled often, as they were free of dust.

Leech walked over for a look.

"’*The Donkey Knight and the Long-Haired Princess*?’"

’There’s a sequel to *The Donkey Knight*?’

"’*The Waterproof Puppet and the Countess*?’"

"’*The Merchant with the Sleeping Apples and the White-Haired Princess*?’"

"’*The Seven Princesses and the Big-Turnip Dwarf*?’"

"’*The Sleeping Prince and the Housemaid*?’"

Leech shook his head. "This isn’t what I’m looking for."

The old bookman shot him a puzzled look, as if to say, ’Don’t all you nobles like this sort of thing?’

"I want to read about the continent’s history, specifically the parts concerning Magic," Leech said. "And also about Magical Creatures, especially anything related to Griffins."

’The Griffin Grass at home has already sprouted. It would be perfect if I could find records about it here.’

The old bookman turned, grabbed several books, and slammed them down on the table.

Leech opened one of them.

It was merely a catalog. The rest were catalogs as well.

Just looking through the catalogs took up most of his day. But his luck was good. He found a book titled *Blood-Red Moon*, which seemed to be a scholar’s firsthand account of the rise and fall of Magic.

There was also *Red Dragon’s Roar*, which described the state of the world an unknown number of years ago and its subsequent changes.

*Ker Scholar’s Experimental Journal* documented the applications of Griffin Grass and their results. To others, it might be a useless book of materials, but to Leech, it was a complete instruction manual on how to use Griffin Grass.

*Furnace* was an account of a Giant Dragon, which would satisfy his curiosity on the subject.

Commoners had no systematic way to learn, as literacy was a privilege held by the nobility. Their knowledge of history was limited to what was passed down by word of mouth. As a result, most people—Leech included—knew little about the world of even a century ago.

Fortunately, he had the heart of a novel enthusiast. He was genuinely grateful that the scholars of this world wrote stories that weren’t so dreadfully boring.

Perhaps the books recorded true events about real people, but Leech intended to read them as if they were fantasy novels.

"May I borrow these to read in my room?" he asked the old bookman. Reading here felt too oppressive.

’Besides, he didn’t care for the old bookman’s temper. Best to keep his distance.’

The old bookman glanced at the books Leech had chosen and nodded.

"Thank you," Leech said, then left with the books.

Now he wouldn’t be so bored in the time leading up to the ball.