Chapter 73
Chapter 73
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 73
Chapter Title: The Grand Duke's Return
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“What, were you training?”
“Hardly.”
Maranello gave a gentle smile.
“I was waiting for you to arrive, Young Master.”
“Waiting for me?”
“Yes, Young Master.”
“Why?”
Carlyle looked utterly baffled.
“I’m not the type to train diligently.”
“Of course, but...”
Maranello grinned.
“I expected you wouldn’t be able to sleep.”
“You expected that?”
*Flinch.* Carlyle was surprised.
*Just how far can this sly old fox see...?*
“It’s quite common for a soldier returning from the battlefield to have trouble sleeping.”
“Common?”
“Yes, Young Master.”
Maranello gave a bitter smile.
“You’ve overcome death countless times and returned home, only to find a comfortable bed and a cozy house feel more unsettling.”
“Is that why I was tossing and turning?”
“Yes, Young Master.”
“The reason?”
“On the battlefield, you constantly feel the threat of death. Your mind and body are always tense, so even when you sleep, you never sleep deeply. Except, of course, when you’re utterly exhausted.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
“But what is the battlefield like? Someone is always screaming, the stench of blood, sweat, and filth hangs in the air, and people drop dead right before your eyes. But what is home like?”
“Comfortable. Quiet. No foul smells.”
“Yes, precisely. That is why you couldn’t sleep well.”
“So… because it’s suddenly so comfortable, I’m actually finding it uncomfortable? Me?”
“Correct.”
“How ironic. To return to a safe place only to feel ill at ease.”
“Is it for nothing that they call humans creatures of habit? Haha. You’ll be fine after a few days. If you’re not, well, that would be another problem.”
“And if I’m not fine?”
“You would slowly go mad. Unable to sleep, plagued by nightmares, the faces of your fallen comrades haunting your dreams. Eventually, you would lose the ability to distinguish nightmare from reality and run rampant.”
“It gets that bad?”
“Yes.”
Seeing the somehow bitter look on Maranello’s face as he nodded, Carlyle didn’t press further.
“But you need not worry. You are a member of the Sigmund family. You were born with a strong mind and body.”
“I don’t know about that. Since I can’t sleep anyway, I might as well train. Maybe I’ll be able to sleep if I tire myself out.”
“An excellent idea.”
Maranello gave a gentle smile.
“I’m going to sort out my thoughts for a moment.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
Carlyle plopped down cross-legged in the training grounds and quietly entered a meditative state.
Before training, he felt the need to review his past battles and take stock of his newly acquired abilities.
*'Thrust, slash. That's all I know of swordsmanship. But I never felt my technique was lacking. It was power and mana I needed.'*
Perhaps thanks to [Master of Arms], an ability that raised proficiency with any weapon, his swordsmanship had improved considerably.
It seemed his sword skills developed simply through real combat experience on the battlefield, without any specific training.
*'And...'*
Carlyle reviewed the skills he possessed.
*'The abilities I gained through the Soul Soother Sword... Master of Arms, Perseverance of the Silent, Genesis, Loyalty, Wish of the Desperate, One Man Army, Symbiosis.'*
Suddenly, memories of the dead came to mind.
The hero who defended Decaron from the barbarian invasion in the past, the people who made wishes at the fountain, the nameless knight who held off the enemy alone to cover his allies' retreat, and even Gwen.
Carlyle recalled their final moments, contemplating the meaning of each skill.
For some reason, it felt like something he had to do.
He felt that the more he understood the will—the lingering regret—they left behind in this world, the more complete each skill would become.
Once he had more or less sorted out the skills from the Soul Soother Sword, he turned his thoughts to the Blood Seal Awakening—the power contained within the Sigmund family bloodline.
*'Berserk. The mana consumption is one thing, but the stamina drain is immense. And the ability of the Underworld King... what exactly is it?'*
Carlyle couldn’t make any sense of the [Blade Hell] he had unleashed.
In the moment he cast [Blade Hell], he hadn’t felt like himself, and his memory of it was hazy.
*'Well, I'll find out in time. What kind of trait this Underworld King is.'*
Carlyle wasn’t the type to dwell on things, so he stopped thinking about it there.
*Ting!*
An alert window popped up.
[Carlyle van Sigmund]
Race: Human
Age: 23
Status: Noble
Grade: ★★★☆
Occupation: Soldier (Private)
Rank: Private (Scheduled for promotion to Second Lieutenant)
Trait: Underworld King
*'3.5 stars.'*
In the game [Overlord], grades were distinguished by stars, not levels.
It went without saying that more stars meant a higher grade and, consequently, more power.
Of course, the grade wasn’t absolute. With the right matchup, various variables, and a bit of luck, it was entirely possible for a 3-star character to defeat a 5-star one.
Though if the grade difference was three or more stars, winning would be next to impossible.
*'Well, it's not bad.'*
Carlyle casually waved his hand, dismissing the alert window, and got to his feet.
“Have you finished your meditation, Young Master?”
“Yeah.”
“Then...”
“Let’s begin.”
Carlyle drew his wooden sword.
“Come.”
Maranello grinned, raising his feather duster.
***
The spar was less of a spar and more of a one-sided beating.
*Thwack, thwack!*
“Kugh!”
A groan escaped Carlyle’s lips.
He was just being struck with short, sharp taps from a feather duster, but the destructive power was immense.
Not only was he covered in bruises, but even a light graze from the duster's feathers would tear his clothes and split his skin, drawing blood.
*'So this is the gap between us.'*
Carlyle felt an insurmountable wall watching Maranello casually wave the feather duster.
But that was to be expected.
As Carlyle recalled, Maranello was a mighty 9-star powerhouse.
Had he not retired due to unavoidable circumstances, he was a monster who might have even broken through to 10 stars.
If Maranello put his mind to it, wiping out the black magician Crowley and the entire Butcher Tribe would be child's play.
In other words, he was not an opponent a mere 3.5-star like Carlyle could dare to face.
“Young Master, you’ve improved a great deal.”
“Are you mocking me?”
“Why would I do that?”
Maranello’s expression turned serious, as if to say he would never.
“You’ve exceeded my expectations.”
“You think so?”
“Yes, Young Master. To be honest, I was quite surprised.”
“Hmm.”
“Don’t be too hasty.”
“Hasty? Me?”
Carlyle snorted.
“Since I’m training anyway, I might as well do it properly. It’s not like I’m obsessed with getting stronger.”
“Haha.”
“Still, it’s a bit annoying getting beaten up one-sidedly like this. Ugh.”
Carlyle used his wooden sword as a cane to push himself up.
His left thigh, which Maranello had struck just moments before, was trembling uncontrollably.
“I’m coming.”
“Yes, come.”
The spar resumed.
*Thwack, thwack!*
“Kugh!”
Carlyle was repeatedly beaten, unable to land a single proper counterattack.
*'I have to land at least one hit. Ugh.'*
But Maranello’s swordsmanship was like an iron fortress, leaving no opening for Carlyle’s sword to slip through.
As he was knocked down, beaten, and sent rolling several times...
*'Just once, just one time...'*
It was then, as Carlyle desperately searched for an opening in Maranello’s defense...
[Notification: The skill has been used!]
[Notification: Luck has increased by 150%!]
[Notification: Critical Hit Rate has increased by 15%!]
As if responding to Carlyle’s will, [Wish] activated.
*'Huh?'*
There was no time to be surprised.
*Whoosh!*
Maranello’s feather duster was flying right at his face.
*'To hell with it.'*
Carlyle swung his wooden sword without a second thought.
*KABOOM!*
With a roar like an exploding bomb, Carlyle’s wooden sword shot toward the center of Maranello’s chest.
Soul Soother Sword, Loyalty.
It was a thrust enhanced by [Wish].
*Thump.* Carlyle’s wooden sword grazed narrowly past Maranello’s side.
Though it wasn’t a critical blow, it was a counterattack that would have been a significant hit had it been a real sword.
“...!”
A startled Maranello leaped back and asked.
“Young Master? What was that just now? Hahaha.”
“I wonder.”
Carlyle said, as if he couldn’t believe it himself.
It wasn’t intentional at all.
[Loyalty] and [Wish] had combined on their own to create a completely different technique.
*Ting!*
An alert window appeared before Carlyle’s eyes.
[Sonic Loyalty]
A thrust evolved to be more threatening by adding the critical hit rate of to <loyalty>.
Characterized by a sonic boom as the sword momentarily breaks the sound barrier.
Skill Level: 1
Combination Formula: Loyalty + Wish
*'These can be combined?'*
Carlyle was quite surprised that the abilities he gained through the Soul Soother Sword could merge into a completely new skill.
*In that case...*
*'Can I make a Sonic Genesis too?'*
Carlyle wondered if the effect of [Wish] could be added to the slash [Genesis], not just the thrust [Loyalty].
*'Should I try again?'*
Carlyle swung the wooden sword horizontally, from left to right.
*KABOOM!*
The sonic boom echoed as the wooden sword cut through the air, breaking the sound barrier.
“It works.”
“Don’t tell me… you just created that?”
“Yeah.”
Carlyle nodded in response to Maranello’s question.
“I just tried it on a whim.”
“Haha.”
Maranello let out a hollow laugh.
To think that someone who had been constantly on the defensive, getting beaten one-sidedly, would suddenly develop a supersonic sword technique on the spot...
*'Is the second Young Master also a genius?'*
Maranello thought that Carlyle might also possess the same immense talent as the eldest, Selena, and the youngest, Frey.
Otherwise, there was no way he could have created a necessary sword form on the fly.
***
Thanks to his spar with Maranello, Carlyle was able to get a deep sleep.
Calling it a deep sleep was generous; it was closer to collapsing from exhaustion.
Having been beaten almost one-sidedly by Maranello from early evening until dawn, it was only natural for Carlyle to pass out.
“Young Master, Young Master.”
“Don’t wake me. I’m tired.”
Carlyle slowly opened his eyes at Evangeline’s call.
Seeing the sun high in the sky, it was clear he had only been asleep for a few hours.
“I think you need to get up.”
“Why?”
“His Grace the Grand Duke has returned.”
“What’s that got to do with me?”
“...”
Evangeline was left speechless by Carlyle’s response, which was a blatant declaration of filial impiety.
*How could it have nothing to do with you...*
“Shouldn’t you go and pay your respects?”
“Too much trouble.”
Carlyle pulled the blanket over his head as if everything was a bother.
“If he’s that curious, he can summon me or come find me himself...”
Just then.
*Click.* The door opened, and Maranello appeared.
“Young Master, His Grace the Grand Duke is looking for you.”
“Seriously, does Maranello even sleep?”
Carlyle irritably threw off the blanket and scowled.
“Didn’t you pull an all-nighter with me? How can you be so perfectly fine?”
“Well, you were the one getting beaten, while I am merely a little short on sleep. Is it not natural? Besides, the old tend to sleep less. Hehehe.”
“Ugh.”
Carlyle sighed deeply and said.
“Alright, tell him I’ll be there soon. I need to wash up first.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
Right after Maranello briskly disappeared.
“Is the butler gone?”
“Yes.”
As soon as he heard Evangeline’s answer, Carlyle threw on some clothes and headed for the window.
And then, he leaped from the window.
“Aaaah!”
A scream erupted from the startled Evangeline’s lips.