Reborn as the Failed Lord with my Resource Gathering System.

The party went on for hours. People danced and drank until the sun went down. The families of the three women took it upon themselves to speak to each other in order to fully know their soon-to-be family members.

And since it was because of his beloved daughter, Viscount Embre didn't once cause a scene; in fact, he was way more cooperative than Ishtar had hoped.

By the time the party and engagement ceremony was over, everyone went back to their homes, everyone except Dorian's new fiancées.

…

The sound of multiple heels echoed through the hallway. Ishtar was still dressed in her red outfit; behind her was her bodyguard.

Killa calmly walked behind her, dressed in a grey suit, his sword strapped at the side of his waist.

He had his mask on, though it was shifted to the side, strapped to his long, golden hair.

The walk was silent for a while, as maids could be seen walking up and down, obviously incredibly busy, which was to be expected since a party had just happened.

However…

"You've been looking rather pale, Killa. Are you surprised to see me getting engaged, or perhaps do you find fault in the man I chose?" Ishtar uttered, a mischievous smile on her face as she gave her knight the side-eye.

Killa looked at her for a while, then he sighed. "I am afraid that is not the case. I was merely wondering why we haven't returned home yet. Traveling at night is not safe; magic beasts are more rampant once the sun goes down."

Ishtar stopped. Then she turned to him. "Killa, darling, have you never been to an engagement ceremony before?"

There was a brief pause.

"I know you are about to make fun of me, milady, but I spent most of my time honing my skills as a knight. As such, most of these things are beyond me," he responded with a slight raise of his hand in defeat.

"My, my, you are still as adorable as ever. Well, since I am engaged, it is only normal I live in my fiancé's house. Normally, it's supposed to be only for this night," Ishtar sighed. "But the thought of leaving my man with those two frightens me. What if they poison his mind and make him think I am a horrible person?"

"..."

"I mean, I know I am, but it is never to him."

"Have you spoken to Lord Embre about this?" Killa asked.

"Why would I need to do that? His answer bears no interest to me. Whether he accepts it or not does not concern me in the least."

Killa watched with a bit of stunner, before shaking his head.

"Please allow me to tell him myself, or he will be worried sick."

"I really don't care," Ishtar began to walk away. "Feel free to go do that now. If you'd excuse me, I am off to find my fiancé's room."

Once again, Killa sighed. "Handling you is now Lord Dorian's problem. I can only hope he doesn't kill that poor man before his time."

He soon walked away.

….

Meanwhile, outside on the mansion's balcony, Dorian stood, holding a glass of wine in his hand while his father stood right beside him.

At the entrance was Maria, who refused to leave his side as his knight despite the fact she was already his fiancée and was told to find rest for the night.

James, his arms resting on the platform, looked to his son and smiled rather slightly. "Look at you, on your engagement ceremony and you're wasted."

Hic!

Dorian hiccupped, his cheeks red and his jaw resting on the platform.

Ever since he transmigrated, he had never once gotten a hold of wine, mainly because he had a bad reputation he was trying to walk away from.

But now, he had no reason to hold back, and since his body was basically filled with three different types of mana, he was practically superhuman in everything, which included his endurance for intoxication.

A total of 65 bottles of wine was needed for him to finally get drunk, a mistake he didn't know he had made until the last minute.

"I-hic! Didn't think it would affect me this much."

James laughed. "I am totally fine with it. It's nice to free yourself every once in a while. You've done so much for this family, it's only fair." James wrapped his hand around Dorian's shoulder, both of them looking down at the maids roaming about.

"Say, son…"

"Hm…"

"What do you say? Would you like to be the ruler of this territory?"

"Wh-hic!" Dorian looked at his father. "What do you mean?"

"I did some reflecting. At some point, a man has to strip himself of his ego and understand his rights and wrongs. In as much as you caused damage to my land back then, I didn't exactly have what it takes to fix it, neither did I make it grow, not as much as you have over the past months."

He continued.

"The money you made, the infrastructures, how you managed to get everyone to follow every word you say—I could have never done any of that. I couldn't even do half of what my father did. I am a failure in my own way, and I knew this all too well. Which was why I was saddened by your behaviors, drinking and gambling. I believed it was my karma for being a disappointment to my own father."

Dorian listened, not uttering a word.

"That said, I am glad you turned out better than me. And hopefully your kids will do the same. I guess what I am trying to say is…"

James stood upright.

"I will be transferring the baron title and the Aurelian territory to you."

Dorian chuckled a bit. "So that is what you meant…"

"Indeed. Do you refuse?"

"Refuse? You have your heartfelt feelings behind this; I could never refuse," Dorian stood upright as well. "If anything, I am grateful. I can finally go all out without any restrictions holding me down."

James smiled back. "I knew you'd understand. I am proud of you, son, truly."

"No pro—"

Dorian suddenly lost his footing and found himself falling to the ground.

Before he could fall completely, Maria appeared and caught him, allowing him to fall on her shoulder.

"Looks like he is wasted," James smiled.

"My apologies, but please allow me to take Lord Dorian to his room for now," Maria uttered with a calm voice.

"Thank you, Maria. See that he gets settled." James watched them go, a content smile on his face.

Maria, with Dorian leaning heavily on her, navigated through the bustling mansion.

The maids and servants respectfully cleared a path, some whispering about the new fiancée's strength and dedication.

She reached Dorian's chambers, a spacious room with a large four-poster bed and a roaring fireplace. Gently, she helped him onto the bed, removing his shoes and loosening his tie.

He was completely out, muttering incoherently about mana and wine.

She pulled a thick blanket over him, then sat in a nearby armchair, her eyes never leaving his sleeping form.

Despite the rest assurances, Maria felt an instinctual need to protect Dorian, a feeling that had only intensified since their engagement.

She was his knight, first and foremost, and that duty superseded any social graces or expectations.