Chapter 12

When the fire in Zeke's gaze changed as he stared back at him, Dexter allowed himself a smirk. The little brat. So he's finally decided to give it a real try.

He was a strange one, this boy — the more you looked, the stranger he seemed. When countless talents had come seeking him out over the years, he hadn't spared a single one of them a glance. And now, for the first time in ten years, someone had appeared who actually caught his interest.

Let's see what you can do...

Then Zeke's body shot off toward the rear exit. Dexter, who had fully expected the boy to come charging straight at him, felt his eyes flood with bewilderment. Huh? Well, I'll be.

He hesitated for a beat, then stamped his foot down. Before anyone knew it, Dexter was blocking Zeke's path.

Zeke clenched his jaw and changed direction again. Utterly entertained, Dexter overtook him once more and cut off the passage ahead.

Zeke backed away and addressed him. "Your ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Excellency, why on earth are you doing this to me?"

Dexter stared at the boy in disbelief. "I've seen plenty of fools cling to me begging to be taught something, but this is a first."

Zeke shook his head. "I have no such intention, so please just let me pass."

"Hoh... really? You have absolutely no desire to learn anything from me?"

Zeke nodded. "I don't even have enough time to master what I already know."

Snap! A vein bulged across Dexter's forehead. His body rippled and vanished, and when he reappeared, he tossed a sword to Zeke. Catching the claymore, Zeke asked, "Am I free to go now?"

Dexter crossed his arms and looked down at him. "No. Not just like that." Stubbornness had taken hold of him now.

His body rippled again, and in that instant a single long line was drawn between Dexter and Zeke, stretching clear across the greenhouse. He looked at the boy. "I don't care what tricks you use. Cross this line, and I'll grant you anything you want."

"How can you make such a reckless promise without knowing what I might ask for?"

"I said anything! You insolent little brat!"

Resigned, Zeke raised his claymore and settled into his stance. "You gave your word. I'm holding you to it." Dexter smirked. "Fine. Come and try."

Gripping the claymore, Zeke activated Swift Step and charged in at blurring speed. Beyond the line, Dexter simply stood still.

Whoosh! He was unmistakably running forward when suddenly the floor and ceiling flipped upside down. Huh? The ground came flying at his face. Thud! A tremendous impact slammed into it, and before he knew it, Zeke was sprawled across the dirt floor.

What... is this? Face-planted in the earth, Zeke remembered being worked over the same way by his master before his regression. Damn it. Getting tossed around like this after so long leaves a filthy taste in my mouth.

Zeke sprang back to his feet. Dexter was picking at his ear and yawning.

Zeke charged at him again. Bam! Same result. Somehow he was flat on the floor once more, staring up at the greenhouse ceiling. "Whew..."

Watching Zeke radiate a different kind of intensity than before, Dexter smirked. "Well? Feeling a little interested now?"

Zeke drew the claymore in tight and sprang forward again. The same result, as expected.

As he watched the boy struggle back upright, Dexter savored the sheer satisfaction swelling inside him. Cocky little brat. Knock him down about ten times, and he'll be clinging to my leg, groveling for mercy.

Just as Dexter predicted, Zeke kept charging and kept getting flung to the floor. But as time wore on, Dexter's expression gradually darkened.

Wait — what count are we on? Every charge came at full power, only to be redirected mid-flight and slammed into the ground. His back had to be shattered with pain by now. Yet this brat, ten times, twenty times over, simply got up again without a trace of exhaustion.

By the time the count climbed past two hundred, Dexter sensed something slipping off course. He spoke to Zeke in a low voice. "Brat. Enough. Admit defeat."

Zeke staggered as though he might collapse at any moment, yet he kept his feet moving. Even so, he clenched the claymore and hurled himself at Dexter all the same. Same result. Bam! This time something connected wrong, and he went down with a crash louder than any before. But true to form, Zeke staggered back up yet again.

Bloodshot eyes brimmed with killing intent. Even Dexter flinched at that gaze. What kind of eyes does a child have... He looked like a mercenary who'd spent decades rolling through war zones.

Then it happened. In an instant, Zeke squared his stance and charged. At the sudden rush, Dexter forced down his bewilderment and moved to parry — but something entirely different from the previous two hundred attempts unfolded.

Shaaaaaaa—! Killing intent and crushing pressure erupted from Zeke, enough to send a chill down Dexter's very spine. It lasted only an instant, but his movement faltered. Zeke did not miss that opening.

Rushing in at high speed with blade in hand, Zeke used Dragon Eyes to capture Dexter's movements — the ones he had never been able to see until now. The instant Dexter moved to seize the oncoming sword and flip it, Zeke let go of the blade and fired off another skill.

Abandoning his sword, he rolled low to the ground and burst forward. The line was right in front of his nose. Then— Tsstsstssts— In a flash, Dexter's body split into a dozen copies. The lined-up duplicates of Dexter barred Zeke's path.

What...? Zeke's body soared up into the air again. Floor and ceiling inverted. KRA-KOOM! It felt as though his entire spine was being crushed.

A voice sounded at his ear — the System.

More messages followed in its wake, but Zeke could no longer hear them. No... not now. With the line inches from his fingertips, Zeke's vision blurred. Then darkness swallowed everything, and his consciousness cut out.

When Zeke came to, he was lying in the bedroom on the Platinum Floor. "Are you awake, young master?" As his eyes opened, Decker approached his bedside. Zeke pushed himself up. "What happened to me?"

"You've asked the very question I was about to pose, young master." Decker adjusted his monocle and continued. "You were lying unconscious on the lobby sofa."

Zeke had a rough idea of what must have happened. So the Duke carried me here after I blacked out.

Decker rose from his place. "If anything ails you, I shall fetch a healer at once." Zeke waved a hand. "No, I'm fine. I was so focused on training earlier that I must have dozed off on the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sofa when I only meant to rest a moment."

However hard that excuse was to swallow, Decker simply nodded without comment. "Very well, young master. Call if you need anything."

Once Decker had gone, Zeke sat up in bed and replayed the events in the greenhouse. "Damn it... I almost had it."

Zeke knew the strengths of his own abilities well: stamina that never ran dry, and recovery to match. He had fallen and risen more than two hundred times to bait the Duke into dropping his guard, and the instant he sensed an opening, he had driven into it with Dragon's Dignity and Dragon Eyes. It was an unorthodox gambit — but for Zeke, it meant concealing the strength of his former life while throwing every ounce of his present ability into piercing the Duke's guard.

So this is a man who was once a Black Knight. It won't work at this level, then.

The reason Zeke knew the Duke's true identity was Andrei Draker. In his previous life, while carrying out a mission, he had stumbled upon the connection between Andrei and the Duke. In time, Andrei Draker would come to be known as the Knight of Red Eyes. The reason he could become a Red Knight at so young an age despite not being a pureblood awakener was simple: he was the disciple to whom Duke Draker had passed down his secret techniques.

After inheriting Duke Draker's secret arts, Andrei was able to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠grow rapidly even without pureblood abilities. Zeke gritted his teeth. If I could inherit the Duke's secret arts, I'd grow stronger far faster than I am now.

Just then, a message surfaced before Zeke's eyes.

An unconfirmed message? When Zeke selected Confirm, a message window popped up.

Reading the floating text, Zeke nodded. "A C-grade skill, huh. So I did walk away with something."

Then another message appeared in succession.

System functions? He couldn't tell exactly what that meant, but he decided to take a look.

"What is this?" Zeke tapped open the descriptions.

Hmm... even with the descriptions, I still don't know what half of this does. The Inventory function was the only one he could make any sense of. Minimap and Inventory each cost twenty Karma Points. With forty points remaining, he could activate both on the spot. "Store items"... I don't really get what that means. Some kind of bag that appears out of nowhere? After a moment's deliberation, Zeke spent his points on the Inventory.

Inventory function activated. Ding! With a chime, a grid of square slots unfolded before his eyes — five across, five down, twenty-five in all. Select an item you wish to store, and it will be placed into your Inventory.

Having read the instructions, Zeke tilted his head, then ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠picked up the claymore he'd propped beside the bed. So I just think of it as storing it? In an instant, the claymore vanished from his hand. "Huh?" The vanished sword now sat inside one of the floating squares. "What is this?" Zeke's claymore occupied two of the twenty-five slots.

Name or shape? Zeke concentrated, picturing the claymore in his mind. Shhk! In an instant, it appeared in his hand. He couldn't believe it even looking right at it. "This beats a subspace box by a mile."

Artifacts that warped space to shrink one's baggage did exist. The problem was their astronomical price. In his previous life, Zeke had carried a small subspace box thanks to the nature of his profession, but it was nowhere near as cost-effective as this Inventory. "And on top of that, this thing's storage can be expanded. What a windfall."

He had failed the Duke's test, but in exchange he had gained a new power. Zeke found himself marveling anew at the Administrator system's usefulness. If the functions of a low-rank Administrator are this good, what about the higher ranks? There might be functions useful beyond anything he could imagine. The problem was the Karma Points needed to activate them. "To earn more points, I'll have to hunt magic beasts..."

His original plan had been to reach Purple Knight rank first, then leisurely run dungeons and hunt beasts at his ease. But if Karma Points were worth this much, he needed to move up the dungeon hunting. "Looks like... I'll have to revise the plan."

Knock, knock. Someone rapped at the door. Zeke sensed Decker's presence beyond it. "Come in."

Decker entered and addressed him. "A message has been delivered for you, young master." "A message?" Zeke took the note Decker handed over. Unfolding it, he found a single line scrawled in a crooked hand.

Reading the message, Zeke smirked. He used a secret technique to stop me at the last moment, and now he's offering me another shot. It hadn't been a complete failure, then. The chance to inherit the Duke's secret arts still remained.

Just then, Decker spoke up. "Young master, there is something I must report." "What is it?" "I have located the blacksmith you mentioned." Zeke nodded. "When did you book the appointment?"

At the question, Decker's expression darkened. "About that... there is a problem." He adjusted his monocle. "The blacksmith in question refused the appointment, saying he no longer makes weapons."