"Father is calling from inside, let's go."
The timid and quiet fourth child got up without a word, but the youngest sister, still whining, was different.
Indeed, it was foolish to expect anything from a six-year-old who knew nothing of the world.
Rockefeller managed to soothe and pacify his youngest whining sister and went to their father, who was lying sick in bed.
All the members of the Rosmedici family gathered in one place, as summoned by Rockefeller's father, Hans Rothsmedici.
"Ah, everyone's here now."
The frail man continually coughed, signaling to his children that he was not in good health.
To Rockefeller, it seemed like there wasn't much time left for him either.
That's how serious his condition appeared.
"Sigh…"
After a seemingly endless bout of coughing and barely catching his breath, Hans lay straight on his bed and slowly began to speak to his children who had gathered around.
"Your grandfather was a truly capable and admirable man. He was greatly respected by others."
The only pride of this family was their grandfather, David Rothsmedici, who had been a doctor.
"Although your grandfather did not learn healing magic like the priests, he took care of many people with emergency medical skills he picked up on the battlefield and various folk remedies. He was such a fine doctor that there was no need for a priest here."
Reflecting on his carefree childhood, he was momentarily lost in sentimentality before continuing.
"When I was a child, our family wasn't in such a bad state. People of our domain, instead of paying high prices to seek priests, would always go to my grandfather for minor ailments. Those were really good times. Even though we were commoners, we lived without envy."
Suddenly, his eyes reddened with emotion.
"If only grandfather hadn't incessantly pressured me, who lacked talent, to become a wizard... It would have been so much better. It was a waste of money... I truly regret that for you kids."
"No, father. We never think of it that way," Rockefeller consoled him, but Hans didn't seem to hear.
Pouring so much money into the academy and still failing to become a wizard, and then using what little wealth remained to pay for his medical expenses as his health declined.
He believed it was all his fault that their once stable family had come to such a state.
After a bout of coughing and sighing, he began to speak again.
“Do you know why we are called the Rothsmedicis?”
Even with that question, everyone, including Rockefeller, remained silent.
Because they did not know.
“It’s because your grandfather always wore red clothes, which is why he got the nickname Rothsmedici. Rothsmedici, you see, actually means 'red doctor.' It was a nickname your grandfather had.”
Hans brought a yellow and dirty cloth to his mouth and began to cough violently.
Rockefeller could see blood on the cloth that Hans had moved to the bedside table.
‘At this rate, he might really die. His condition seems quite serious.’
Since he wasn’t his real father, Rockefeller wasn’t too deeply affected by his frail state.
After all, he thought it was like any other person dying.
However, seeing his younger siblings weeping nearby did evoke some sympathy.
To him, the man might have been a stranger, but to these siblings, he was their real father.
“The reason I’ve called you all here is not for nothing.”
Even the second child, who seldom cried, was teary-eyed, and only Rockefeller was calmly accepting the situation.
"My time seems to be running short. That's why I gathered you here, to tell you something important before I leave."
With those words, the younger siblings, who had been holding back their tears, began to cry.
Similarly with reddened eyes, he looked for his eldest son, Rockefeller.
"Rockefeller."
"Yes, Father."
Hans saw his eldest son, Rockefeller, dealing with the situation with composure even amidst this turmoil.
He was in fact very proud of his eldest son for not crying.
"It's a relief that you're here."
Though he didn't say it, Rockefeller was feeling miserable.
If he were to go like this, the entire responsibility of the household would fall on him.
It meant becoming the head of a family, burdened with the care of his young siblings, whom he hardly knew.
"Father. For the sake of me and the younger siblings, you must recover somehow."
Seeing his eldest son, who seemed particularly mature today, Hans was able to smile faintly for the first time in a while.
"Rockefeller, if you encounter any difficult times, seek the lord. The previous lord received much help from your grandfather, and I too have assisted the lord a great deal, so the lord won’t ignore our family."
Rockefeller couldn't sympathize with his words.
If the current lord intended to take care of them as he said, he would have stepped in much earlier.
“And remember this. This is a testament left by your grandfather for our family. Keep it well in mind.”
