The Second Son of the Marquis Wants to Laze Around-Chapter 77: Celebration Feast

When Wenzel and Alice traveled back to his home to offer comfort, but as a commoner, Wenzel couldn’t do much against a noble. So, he used his connections as a merchant and as an adventurer, and raised a public outcry to expose the viscount’s cruelty.

That was when everything started to spiral out of control.

Protests broke out.

Wenzel survived multiple assassination attempts.

His wife and child were kidnapped.

His family received death threats.

He faced betrayal from those he trusted.

And a bitter conflict between the nobles and the commoners of Aisman unfolded—one that Wenzel’s fight against the viscount had triggered.

And then finally, a dungeon outbreak occurred—caused entirely by the viscount’s gross negligence and irresponsibility. Monsters spilled out of the dungeon, wreaking havoc, but the situation was eventually brought under control thanks to Wenzel, who mobilized his adventurer connections and rallied a swift response.

His role in stopping the crisis didn’t go unnoticed. As a reward for his heroic efforts, Wenzel was granted a noble title and was given a small territory of his own. This turn of events, however, did not sit well with the Viscount. His pride wounded, his power threatened, the man who once ruled over others with cruelty now saw Wenzel as an enemy—and thus began a civil war between the so-called noble lord and the commoner-turned-hero.

Fortunately for Wenzel, his ever-reliable wife had already taken precautions.

Alice had secretly sent word to her homeland, and in response, reinforcements arrived: legions of elven soldiers marched into Aismon in support of Wenzel. It was then that a major secret came to light—Wenzel’s wife was no ordinary elf, but a former royal princess of the Elven Kingdom.

With that revelation, the balance of power shifted dramatically. The war reached its turning point, and in the end, Wenzel’s forces triumphed. The viscount’s army collapsed, and the tyrant himself was utterly defeated.

What followed was a grand trial. The royal family of Aismon—who had conveniently stayed silent up until now—were suddenly eager to get involved. Not just because of Wenzel’s popularity, but more so due to his deep ties to the elven royalty.

Politics, as always, moved quickly when image was on the line.

’Classic.’

During the trials, every one of the viscount’s wicked crimes was dragged into the light. Nobles who had once pledged loyalty to him, supported him, worked with him, they all backed off in cowardice. Those who had stayed silent all this time suddenly opened their mouths—most of them were from the royal court, pretending to care just to stay in the elves’ good graces.

’Honestly, what a bunch of two-faced trash.’

In the end, the evil viscount was sentenced to death for his long list of unforgivable crimes. And as for Wenzel—he was officially appointed the new Lord of the region. The King of Aismon himself bestowed upon him the title of Duke, both to honor his role in stopping the dungeon outbreak and to show gratitude to the elves, who had supported him thanks to his wife’s connections.

From that moment on, the name Wenzel Grimwald echoed across the continent. His tale of humble beginnings and astonishing rise spread far and wide—even the common folk knew his name and respected it.

But even after all that, Wenzel—now known as Duke Grimwald—never stopped searching for the spirit he once met as a child. Despite his busy life managing a territory, he continued his journey in spirit. And so did Alice. Their fascination with spirits and the mysterious world surrounding them became not just a mission, but a shared passion and family tradition in the Grimwald household.

Years passed.

Eventually, the legendary Wenzel retired from his position as head of the family. Now, he lived his days as a cheerful old man, spending time with his grandchildren and traveling the world for leisure—sharing tales of his youth to any little ears that would listen.

....

"What about the spirit? Did you ever find her?"

Little Leon’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as he leaned forward, clearly absorbed in the story. The old Wenzel chuckled softly, the lines around his eyes crinkling with warmth.

"Fufufu... no, not really," he said, shaking his head with a wistful smile. "We never did find her again. Though Alice and I did discover a few relics and artifacts connected to spirits, we never managed to meet one in person again."

"That’s kind of sad," Leon murmured, his small brows furrowing in sympathy.

But Wenzel simply laughed it off like it was no big deal.

"Oh, it’s fine, little one. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever felt truly sad in my life during my journey."

"Huh?" Leon tilted his head, clearly confused.

Wenzel smiled, his gaze distant as if recalling a fond memory. "Meeting that spirit when I was a boy gave me something more valuable than I ever imagined—it gave me a dream. It motivated me to travel the world, to meet all kinds of people. It brought me to meet my wife, helped me build a family, gave my life purpose. So if you’re asking whether I’m sad about never seeing that spirit again, then the answer is no."

He placed a hand gently atop Leon’s head, ruffling his hair with a soft chuckle.

"Instead, I’m grateful to her."

Leon’s eyes widened slightly. He didn’t fully understand the depth of the old man’s words, but it made him even more fascinated by Wenzel’s life.

Wenzel looked at him with a kind smile and said, "I hope that one day, you too can experience the true meaning of life."

-------

Back to the present—

Inside a knight’s tent, Leon sat cross-legged on his bed, eyes closed in deep meditation. After a long moment, he slowly opened his eyes, staring quietly at his hand as he clenched it into a fist, feeling the change within himself.

After updating his status, he had officially reached Level 4. Thanks to his battle against the Thunderclaw, he had not only leveled up from Level 3 to Level 4 Awakener but had also gained a brand-new ability, called Strong Spirit.

It was a rare Ability that only awakened in those who constantly pushed themselves against stronger foes. For the past five years, Leon had never taken the easy path. Ever since his friend’s death, he had devoted himself to harsh training—fighting tough opponents, sparring with seniors, and hunting stronger monsters.

And now, this new ability was proof of how far he’d come.

He could feel it—he was getting stronger. One step closer to his goal.

"Hm..."

Leon let out a faint chuckle, reminiscing about the past—the trials, the failures, the moments of pain, the hardships, and growth. All of it brought him here. In that moment, he couldn’t help but agree with the words of the old man.

Just then, the tent’s flap rustled open as a knight poked his head in.

"Oh? Leon, you’re done already?" It was one of his fellow roommates.

Without waiting for a response, the knight waved him over.

"Come on! The others are throwing a celebration outside—everyone’s eating together!"

Leon nodded silently and followed him out.

As he stepped outside, he noticed that the sky had already darkened into night. The atmosphere in the camp was surprisingly lively. Lanterns swayed gently in the wind, casting a warm glow over the dining area. The knights who had fought alongside him against the Thunderclaw were gathered around tables, eating, drinking, and laughing together like a merry band of adventurers.

"Huh? Look—it’s the Captain!" someone called out, spotting Leon.

"Boss! Over here, I saved you a seat!" another shouted.

The moment he arrived, the junior knights welcomed him like a returning hero. One handed him a mug filled with something fragrant, with red color.

Leon gave it a sniff.

’Wine?’

"Here, Boss! We saved this drink just for you!"

"And this too—you haven’t eaten yet, right?"

Another knight plopped a plate full of food in front of him with a grin.

Leon blinked, overwhelmed by the treatment. It felt... weird. Still, he didn’t say anything and quietly joined the festivities, eating as the others chatted and laughed around him.

It was a celebration—honoring their victory over a Level 5 monster. Even some of the senior knights had joined in, like Sir Kristoff and Hector.

...

Apparently, Sir Kristoff had been the one to suggest the idea to the commander. However, Commander Gareth initially rejected it, saying,

"It might attract monsters. We’re still near the Dry Forest—it’s wild terrain."

He’d insisted the feast wait until their return back from the trip.

But then, Raven had stepped in.

"Just let them have a little fun," Raven had said sweetly, stroking the mane of her newly tamed monster.

"The kids worked really hard helping me tame this girl. A small break won’t hurt, Master~"

Also, one thing they all noticed is that, for some odd reason, she referred to all her tamed monsters as female—even though monsters didn’t really have genders.

After a bit of nagging, Gareth had finally relented. "Fine. You can have your feast. But no drinking." he declared, then firmly instructed the servants not to serve any alcohol.

...

Back in the present, after hearing this explanation from his teammate, Leon blinked and raised an eyebrow.

"Wait... then how did you guys get your hands on this?" he asked, gesturing to the mug in his hand.

He’d just realized that every knight had a similar mug, and some were already flushed and giggling drunkenly. freeωebnovēl.c૦m

"Well... it’s thanks to Miss Raven," one of the knights said sheepishly.

Everyone turned their heads toward another table—where Raven sat eating and drinking merrily with five other female knights. Next to them, the massive Thunderclaw was curled up peacefully, snoring beside Raven like an oversized cat.

Apparently, the wine had been hers all along. She’d decided to share it with the knights—but only gave one large bottle to the entire group of fifty male knights. Meanwhile, she and the five female knights got to enjoy two bottles to themselves.

Because of the limited quantity, the guys had to settle for a single sip each... while the girls indulged freely.

Naturally, several of the guys were giving the girls the stink-eye.

Meanwhile, Leon sipped his wine and squinted at Raven’s group.

’Since when did she get so close to those girls...? Weren’t they avoiding her before...?’