Rakshas: Tales of the Summoned Lord

A moment later, Hilter brought Eman and Patt who were dressed in clean new clothes back to Allen.

Eman, who stood before Allen, was a thin man with sharp, almost rodent-like features. His narrow face and sunken cheeks made him look perpetually tired, and his slightly hunched posture only added to his unimposing presence.

Beside him stood Patt, a tall and broad-shouldered man with a commanding presence. His strong jawline and sharp eyes, combined with the well-fitted swordsman's garb he wore, made him look every bit the battle-hardened warrior he was. With a confident stance and arms crossed over his chest, he seemed the complete opposite of the frail-looking Eman.

Allen approached Patt, comparing their heights before sighing. "Patt, it's been a long time. We've changed so much from the rowdy brats we once were."

Patt nodded. "That's true, young master. We've really grown up."

Allen recalled from the memories he inherited, their childhood rivalry—every meeting ended in a fight, with one of them going home in tears, only to repeat the cycle the next day. Seeing Patt now, nostalgia and familiarity surged within him.

Patt hesitated before saying, "I came here because of my grandfather's wish. He instructed me to stay by your side, whether you return to the dominion or not. You're the heir of the Styles Family, and no harm must come to you."

Eman, standing nearby, frowned. "But Patt, the young master is now a Gold Rank Battleforce master. You're only Iron Rank—how can you protect him?"

Patt rolled his eyes. "Eman, have you forgotten the saying from the Northlands? 'Even the sharpest beast has a moment of weakness; even the strongest horse may stumble.' I know the young master's strength, but he's still just one man. Even if I'm Iron Rank now, once I reach Silver Rank, I'll be of much greater help."

"Well said," Allen interjected, stepping closer. "Did Butler Gleis really ask you to stay by my side?"

Patt nodded. "If you return to inherit the dominion, I'll serve as your personal attendant. If not, I'll still stay and protect you." He chuckled wryly. "Though seeing you now, you've changed far more than I imagined. Not just your skills—your entire personality is different. You don't need someone like me to protect you anymore. When we lost contact with you, my grandfather and the elders feared you were struggling… Seems they were wrong."

Patt couldn't hide his awe as he looked at Allen. At just 26, he had achieved what most could only dream of—an esteemed instructor, a Gold Rank swordsman, the owner of a vast estate in the residential district, and the leader of a private force. On top of that, he ran multiple businesses and was remarkably successful.

"This… Young master, you've really surpassed all expectations," Patt admitted, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Come let's talk over some drinks my friend, I have much to ask you."

Inside Allen's estate, he led Patt and Eman into a private lounge, pouring them each a drink. Patt looked around the beautifully decorated room, still in awe of how far Allen had come.

"It's been ten years," Allen mused, swirling his glass. "I had no contact with the family. I had to survive on my own, and I was lucky to have trusted friends. But enough about me. Patt, tell me—what's happened back home?"

Patt's expression darkened. "The Styles Family has weakened greatly. Your father, the late Baron, never advanced beyond One Star Gold due to an old injury. When he died, the family's stability crumbled. Your elder brother, a Gold Rank knight, was struck with a poison arrow in battle and didn't make it. Your younger brother… he's gravely ill. He never awakened his Battle Force and is in no condition to rule."

Allen remained silent, digesting the heavy news.

"The family's forces are in shambles," Patt continued. "Years ago, your younger brother encountered a magical beast. The only Three Star Silver Knight guarding him fought it off but was badly wounded. Now, only one Silver Rank warrior remains—Andrea Pesha, daughter of Knight Andrea. She was engaged to your late brother but never married him. She now oversees the dominion, as Butler Gleis is too old to manage affairs."

Eman interjected, "Young Master, do you remember that red-haired girl who used to follow your brother?"

Allen shook his head. "I never paid much attention."

"Aside from Pesha," Patt went on, "the rest of the main force consists of a few Iron Swordsmen in the garrison and some old veterans in the castle. That's why the family needs you to return and take over."

Patt's voice grew somber as he recounted their father's final battle. "After your brother's death, the baron wasn't the same. When barbarians attacked, he only had 18 cavalry left. He called for the garrison's aid, but they never arrived. He launched the attack early, thinking the garrison would join in."

At first, the ambush worked, but as the barbarians realized their numerical advantage, they regrouped. Just when the battle hung in the balance, enemy reinforcements arrived—another 50 warriors. The baron, still unwell, fought desperately, but our troops were overwhelmed. In the end, only he and I survived."

Allen's fingers tightened around his glass. "The garrison never came?"

"No." Patt's voice was sharp with anger. "I stormed their camp afterward and struck their commander, Malte, down in rage. The garrison revolted, demanding my punishment. Butler Gleis and Pesha barely managed to calm the situation. That's why the butler sent me away—to find you and to keep me from making things worse."

Silence filled the room. The weight of his family's downfall pressed upon Allen.

"The garrison dare surround the Styles manor?" Allen's face darkened but eventually calmed himself down with a sip of alcohol.

"So, that's why you're here," he finally said, after a while

Patt nodded. "The family needs you, young master. Without you, the Styles name will fade."

Allen exhaled, his decision weighing heavily. "Then it looks like I have no choice."

Allen, Patt and Eman kept discussing for hours. Allen came to know many things about the state Styles family was in, it was much more serious and grim than he initially anticipated.

The Styles Family was facing a dire situation on multiple fronts.

First, every winter, waves of magical beasts migrated into the dominion. While herbivores like magical bulls and goats only damaged farmland, the real threat came from carnivorous beasts like snow wolves and leopards, which attacked towns and bastides.

Second, the barbarians from the Magical Dragon Mountains were a constant menace. Descended from ancient humans who regressed into primitive lifestyles after the fall of the magical civilization, they lived by the law of the jungle, plundering and pillaging. For generations, they had raided the dominion, making it impossible to expand settlements. The late Baron Styles' final battle was triggered when they stole nearly all of the family's livestock.

Third, the garrison squad posed an internal issue. Of the 5,000 citizens, 3,000 lived in Wildnorth Town, most of them relatives of the garrison soldiers. These troops occupied two-thirds of the best farmland but only paid a minimal 10% tax, contributing little to the family's defense.

Historically, the Styles Family's first leader populated the dominion by welcoming vagabonds and freeing purchased slaves to develop the land. Now, with dwindling strength and loyalty issues, the family's survival was uncertain.

Aa of now, Styles Family faced mounting challenges from both internal unrest and external threats.

One of their most pressing issues was the growing influence of the garrison. Originally, these soldiers were granted land ownership and tax exemptions, apart from the 10% tribute owed to the empire, as an incentive to defend the dominion against the annual winter beast waves. At first, enlistment was low due to the dangers involved, but as safe zones expanded, more people saw the benefits of joining. Over time, however, the system was exploited. Garrison members refused to establish independent households after marriage, ensuring their families continued to enjoy the same privileges. Many turned to smuggling salt and overfishing, living even more comfortably than the ruling Styles Family.

To curb the abuse, the family imposed a 6,000 square meter land limit per person, but this failed to deter them since their real interest lay in tax exemptions rather than land. Over the course of a century, the garrison's numbers grew, with large family clans emerging in Wildnorth Town, some boasting over forty members. Their deep entanglement with the dominion made direct military action impossible, as many of the Styles' own servants and soldiers had relatives in the garrison. Any attempt to suppress them would have led to internal strife, turning the family into a laughingstock among nobles.

The garrison, once fiercely loyal, began to defy the family's authority after the first young master's death. Their refusal to aid the old baron in his campaign against the barbarians led to his severe injuries and eventual decline. Their boldest act of defiance came when they surrounded the Styles' castle, demanding Patt be handed over. Though this was close to treason, the family's deteriorating military strength forced them to negotiate rather than retaliate.

Resolving the garrison problem would now be the burden of the next family head which would be Allen if he returns back.

As if internal strife wasn't enough, the Styles Family also faced territorial disputes with the Kenmays Family, whose dominion lay to the south. While the barren lands of the Northlands rarely invited conflict, the mineral-rich Morgan Hills, where the Styles' mines were located, became a point of contention. Though the Styles had rightful ownership, granted by the founding emperor, the Second Prince had recently unjustly enfeoffed the land to Viscount Kenmays.

Whether this was an administrative error or deliberate favoritism was unclear, but it led to repeated clashes between the two families. The Styles suffered heavy losses in these skirmishes, and with their military in decline and the garrison unreliable, holding onto their land was becoming increasingly difficult.

The Styles Family also faced economic decline due to its internal and external threats. Though they initially won the Morgan Hills dispute against Viscount Kenmays, their weakened influence emboldened him to reopen mines there, backed by his cousin's ties to Duke Loggins. If Kenmays realized their true weakness, he would likely seize the mines entirely, pushing the Styles into bankruptcy.

Ten years ago, their main trade convoy was destroyed by bandits, in that tragedy Allen's uncle also unfortunately died, that event cut off the family's primary income.

Their famed armored cavalry, once 200 strong, was decimated after battles under the Second Prince's banner and against barbarians, leaving only a handful of crippled survivors. The financial burden of pensions further strained the family.

To make matters worse, the Second Prince, once respectful, discarded the Styles by forcing them under Duke Loggins instead of the Farlier Royal Family. The Duke's exorbitant taxes, rivaling half a noble's revenue, hit the Styles hardest since they had exempted their garrison from taxation. The mines barely kept them afloat. Even after the wars ended, the Duke imposed a "rebuilding tax," with no end in sight.

With their trade routes controlled by the Duke and their resources dwindling, the Styles had no choice but to endure. After hearing this, Allen realized the Northern Lands were a burning pit—one he was expected to walk into.