Swish, swish, swish!
A log in the hands of the old steward soared into the air.
Shaaak!
The boy swung his sword toward the flying log.
The twin swords followed the boy’s hands, cutting through the irregularly scattered logs.
Chara-rarara-rak! Crash!
Ironwood growing near Dasuha cracked under the boy’s strikes, its hardness rendered meaningless.
“Phew…”
The boy, calming his breath as the red aura subsided, received a towel from the old steward.
“Well done, Young Master Ian.”
“Ah, thanks, Hans.”
Ian wiped his sweat-soaked face with the towel Hans handed him.
Hans stared intently at Ian as he worked.
“…Honestly, I can hardly believe my own eyes. I don’t know much about martial arts, but I can tell that it’s rare for someone to improve this quickly.”
“…Huh! Fine, let’s leave it at that.”
Ian let out a faint laugh at Hans’s words.
Hans doesn’t know martial arts. What a boring joke.
Without mentioning it, Ian spoke to Hans.
“Well, it’s been a while since the initiation ceremony. If I’m going to act like a proper person, I should start putting in more effort, shouldn’t I?”
Indeed.
It had already been a month since the initiation ceremony.
During that month, Ian’s daily routine was extremely simple.
At night, when the estate was quiet, he operated the Blood Chain Ironwork to release the chains binding the Solar Meridian, developing mana roads for the flow of blood energy.
During the day, he practiced swinging the twin Blood Swords, recalling the sensations of wielding the Golden Chain Whip, gradually making the weapons feel like extensions of his own body.
After repeating this simple work endlessly, Ian became capable of wielding the twin swords as naturally as his own limbs.
He also succeeded in freeing another twisted strand of the meridian chains.
All of this had been accomplished in just a month, so it wasn’t surprising that Hans was so astounded at the abnormal pace.
Of course, from the perspective of Lucas, who had once ascended to the title of Overlord of the Northern Continent, Ian’s power was still pitifully insufficient.
Chyaaah!
After his afternoon training, Ian sank into the bathtub, and the warm water overflowed.
The body that had seemed frail and weak when he first crawled out of his tomb was beginning to gain some muscle.
Immersed in the bath, Ian carefully loosened the muscles stiffened by training, thinking to himself:
‘It’s about time something starts reacting.’
Completing the initiation ceremony meant that he had become a full-fledged martial artist of the Lichtenauer family.
This also meant that he had a duty to contribute to the family as a proper member.
In simple terms, he had to earn his keep.
This was an absolute principle in the Lichtenauer martial household, for both direct and collateral branches.
With monsters from Dasuha of the Southern Continent constantly seeking opportunities to invade the Aslan Kingdom, the family could not afford to fill its ranks with incompetent fools.
‘Well, let the lazy dig the well.’
In fact, being left alone was better for Ian.
He needed more time to accumulate strength.
Ian had something he absolutely had to accomplish.
…Grrr-rattle!
Recalling certain faces, especially the most irritating one, made Ian’s teeth grind audibly.
‘…Siegfried Dupfel.’
The cunning fox who had incited the continent to attack his empire, seizing everything he had built.
He wasn’t the only one who needed to be destroyed.
There were the Saint of the Western Continent, the Sword Saint of the Eastern Khan Empire, and even Kaidu Balak.
They had turned the empire that he and his subordinates had built through shared dreams into a mere mirage overnight.
This time, he would completely demolish everything they had built over the past ten years.
And once again, he would restore the Alexandor Empire of the Northern Continent.
To achieve this grand plan, he needed power—power not merely strong, but overwhelmingly so, enough to shake the entire continent.
If the family did not assign him missions, he would patiently subdue the Solar Meridian using the Blood Chain Ironwork and refine his internal techniques.
If missions were given, he would hone his dulled combat instincts through actual practice.
Either way, Ian would refine himself according to the situation.
The only frustration was the nagging uncertainty, the feeling of being caught in between.
“…No need to rush.”
Siegfried’s empire would not collapse overnight.
The Saint and the Sword Saint would not fall tomorrow either.
Achieving his goals might require ten years, perhaps even decades.
If he allowed himself to be impatient, he was more likely to fail as he had in the past.
Chyaaah!
After organizing his thoughts, Ian finished his bath and stepped out, where Hans was waiting with a towel once more.
“Today your bath seems unusually long, Young Master.”
“I just needed a moment to clear my head. Is there… something wrong?”
“A message came from the Ruler’s Hall. It instructs that you visit immediately upon confirming this matter.”
“Is that so?”
Ian nodded at Hans, dried off, dressed carefully, and began walking toward the Ruler’s Hall.
‘They start moving the moment I mention it.’
Clearly, nobility is not in their nature.
Before the hall.
After adjusting his attire, the guards slowly opened the doors.
Inside the grand hall, three figures awaited him.
Lord Paon Lichtenauer, the extraordinary old mage Nedir who handled precious jade, and lastly, Grand Duke Alex Lichtenauer.
“Oh! Ian, you’ve come!”
Alex greeted him warmly, his soft voice and smile welcoming.
“I heard you’ve been devoting yourself to training lately. Truly commendable. I hope it hasn’t interrupted your practice.”
Patting Ian lightly on the shoulder, Alex smiled contentedly.
But Ian interpreted it differently.
Since the initiation ceremony, he had never once left his quarters.
And Alex clearly knew this…
‘A warning.’
-After all, you are in my hand. Don’t entertain foolish thoughts.
A childish threat, indeed.
A smirk involuntarily escaped Ian.
Yet, concealing his true thoughts, he answered calmly.
“The initiation ceremony is complete. Though I still have much to improve, I am now a proper martial artist of the Lichtenauer family. Though late, I must strive not to bring shame to the family’s name.”
“Hahaha! Excellent stance!”
Satisfied, Alex turned to Paon, who had been quietly observing.
“Father, see? Didn’t I say that Ian is changing? He has such admirable thoughts now. Please do not be overly negative toward my opinion.”
“Hmmm…”
Paon frowned slightly, displeased, but eventually, he acknowledged some merit in Alex’s words and reluctantly asked Ian:
“Ian, would you be willing to lead a newly established strike squad?”
‘…Lead a new strike squad?’
Just after completing the initiation ceremony, without proper training?
What kind of nonsense was this?
Ian was dumbfounded by Paon’s unexpected question.
“Why, do you not wish to?” Paon asked again.
“Oh, no. I just wonder if it might be premature for me to take command already…”
Ian’s hesitation was reasonable.
The Lichtenauer martial household was renowned across Aghena because members, both direct and collateral, gained experience step by step from the bottom.
Such experience was what made the family strong.
So naturally, Ian expected to start at the lowest rank of a strike squad.
That was the family’s standard judgment.
Even if Alex schemed to challenge him, he expected Ian to be assigned to the roughest squad, like the Tuguidae, or to the front-line Blood Wolf squad facing Dasuha.
But being put in charge of a strike squad was entirely different.
Each squad leader was recognized as an executive of the family.
Leading a group was no easy task.
Even if Ian had performed slightly better than expected in the initiation, he knew exactly how he was evaluated within the family.
‘What is your intention, Alex?’
Paon added: “If you lack confidence, you may refuse.”
To which Alex responded:
“Hahaha! Father, you must be more precise. Ian might be surprised otherwise.”
Alex turned toward Ian, showing neither greed nor malice.
“Ian, don’t overthink it. I saw your potential during the initiation. Others ignored it, but inside the Weapon Orb barrier, your talent was extraordinary. This new strike squad will be composed of youths like you—talented, self-confident martial artists who are the future of our family.”
On the surface, he seemed like the ideal older brother, fully trusting a younger sibling.
“In time, everyone will recognize it. Your command will be seen not as favoritism, but as a legitimate appointment.”
…If that were true.
‘Only if I truly perform well.’
Recognition came only with results.
If he failed to achieve overwhelming, undeniable success, the appointment would be deemed favoritism from the Lord, not merit.
Paon had already sensed Alex’s plan but could not refuse the proposal outright.
Ian had shown talent beyond expectations during the initiation ceremony.
Entrusting capable individuals with positions befitting their skill was a hallmark of a Lord’s authority.
Had the extraordinary Martial Disciple started at the same level as ordinary members, it would also be seen as favoritism in another sense.
Some might call it forced, but Alex had more than enough skill to justify it.
Of course, if Paon chose to intervene, no one could oppose him.
Paon had never interfered in the successors’ conflicts, seeing them as necessary trials to become the family’s master.
Thus, Paon accepted Alex’s proposal despite knowing everything.
This was part of the successors’ struggle.
‘Ian, if you truly have something… you will perceive Alex’s intention.’
But contrary to Paon’s expectations, Ian nodded as if he had been waiting.
“I appreciate your trust… I will deliver results worthy of it.”
It was a mistake.
Ian, foolishly excited at the thought of commanding a strike squad, agreed immediately.
‘…Tch, it’s done.’
Paon’s slight hope faded.
Indeed, the exceptional talent he noticed at the initiation was an illusion.
‘As planned.’
Ian’s agreement forced Alex to restrain his laughter.
The squad Ian would command consisted of troublesome members from both branches of the family.
‘This is enough to test Ian.’
If he failed to control them, his standing in the family would plummet, and Alex’s assumptions would be confirmed.
If he succeeded, it would still be fine, proving Ian had hidden claws.
Either way, Ian would gain experience with minimal cost—some surprises, and a few peripheral martial artists treated as exiled.
‘Ian, show me what you’re capable of.’
Regardless of Alex’s intentions, Ian accepted because:
‘There’s no reason to refuse when they offer me command directly.’
He had ruled an empire before.
For him, training a single squad into elite fighters was hardly difficult.
‘Besides, I intend to take over this household anyway.’
Displacing a squad leader and seizing an existing squad would be easier, but everything has pros and cons.
Gaining the loyalty of members bound to the previous leader would be difficult.
But raising a new squad, though initially challenging, could forge stronger bonds than any existing group.
And so, while Alex and Ian pursued different goals, Ian’s mind could be summed up in a single phrase:
‘I will devour this strike squad.’
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