Chapter 23
Chapter 23
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: Military Parade and Heir Declaration (3)
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The memorial speeches had all concluded.
Thanks to the Trait: Skilled Orator, I'd delivered a eulogy brimming with genuine emotion. The effect was beyond anything I'd imagined.
Just look at the Knight Order Captain clapping for me from one side of the stage. That alone confirmed my plan had worked perfectly.
Clap, clap, clap...
Starting with Captain Michael, the central plaza filled with applause. The cheers poured down like a waterfall, shaking the square to its core.
And the people gazing at me with eyes full of感動. Even among the elite soldiers, many were wiping away tears.
This unfamiliar yet resounding acclaim for the once-wastrel heir. I waited a moment for the plaza's fervor to die down.
Once silence returned, I bowed to the crowd and stepped back from the center of the stage.
Not just the trait, either. That speech Eirin ghostwrote was downright terrifying. Even I, an outsider to Essenmont, was moved.
As I returned to the VIP seating area, Border Count Wilhelm greeted me in a voice thick with emotion.
"Julian!! What in the world has gotten into you? Are you truly the same Julian I knew?"
I flinched inwardly. He wasn't wrong—the core of who I was now wasn't the old Julian. But I replied calmly to the Count.
"Yes, Your Excellency. I am undoubtedly Your Excellency's heir, and the successor to the Reinhardt name: Julian von Reinhardt."
"Oh... I truly thought the Reinhardt line would end with me. But how...! Lord Jedin and the war god Loia have blessed us..."
"But it's not over yet. I still have my single exchange with Captain Michael."
At my words, the Count glanced at the Knight Captain—the man who had been the first to applaud me while everyone else was still stunned.
Michael, the one said to never lose his cool even in the heat of battle. But his eyes were different now.
They burned with open interest and fighting spirit, a far cry from his earlier bored indifference toward the parade.
"Michael... He's fired up in a way that's unlike him. This could be trouble."
Worry laced the Count's voice. Of course, a Grand Master like Wilhelm had no reason to fear the Captain himself. It was concern for his grandson.
"Have no fear, Your Excellency. I've prepared enough to honor the Reinhardt blood."
"Really? Even so, Michael didn't become Captain of the White Night Knights for nothing."
"I'm prepared. Please watch."
"Alright. I can see the resolve in your eyes."
Wilhelm nodded.
"Then I won't say more. If Michael's getting serious, even I can't stop him. This succession rite is an ancient Reinhardt tradition."
The Border Count stepped forward to the center of the stage once more.
"Next, the heir of Reinhardt shall prove his worthiness to carry that blood. Julian von Reinhardt! Michael Schultz! Take up your swords and come to the center of the stage!"
At the Count's booming command, Captain Michael and I faced each other.
Shing...
Both of us drew our swords from their sheaths in unison and assumed our stances. We both wielded the same formal swordsmanship: the Lion Heart Sword.
But Michael's presence was on another level.
Michael... We agreed no Aura, right?
A knight of Master rank could exude ferocious pressure without Mana or Aura.
But this was different. My senses, sharpened since awakening Mana, told me Michael had Mana coursing through his entire body.
At least it's Mana, not Aura. Consideration for our skill gap?
Focusing my senses, I could see a faint blue energy spreading across the Captain's body.
That color confirmed it wasn't Aura. What I saw was highly refined Mana power—the precursor to Aura, which would glow silver-white like mine.
Of course, at his level, Mana or Aura makes little difference. But pulling out Mana is a good sign.
Perfect. Even without Aura, for him to draw on his power meant he was serious, given our overwhelming disparity.
"Exchange your single blows! Begin!"
At Border Count Wilhelm's shout, Captain Michael moved. His sword tip wavered. Slowly. Yet with the majestic weight of a lion on the prowl.
At a glance, it seemed sluggish, unworthy of a Master.
But that was an illusion born of his presence.
Before I could even perceive it, his blade was at my throat. It was the first form of the Lion Heart Sword's first chapter—the one I'd drilled endlessly with Uriel.
"Julian!!!!"
The Count's shout rang out in that instant.
He must have been shocked. A razor-sharp strike infused with Mana.
Even Mana users had a barrier-like defense as a last resort.
But Michael's blow was already inches from piercing my chest. Staying still would mean a fatal wound.
Yet my senses were heightened to the extreme. Time itself seemed to crawl, as if death loomed.
Even so, I couldn't react to Michael's sword.
No. I chose not to. I simply waited. And the moment his blade tip reached the edge of my Mana barrier...
The Reinhardt blood reacted faster than my senses or thoughts.
My sword finally moved.
Silence fell over the central plaza once more. Our single exchange was complete.
"Wh-what just happened?!"
Wilhelm's roar shattered the icy hush, and murmurs rippled through the square.
"What was that? Did anyone see the moves?"
"Too fast. But Captain Michael was definitely serious."
"Agreed. I'm no knight, but I've trained in swordsmanship. And he was using Mana..."
"Both used the first form of the Lion Heart Sword, right?"
"No. Young Lord Julian's strike was slightly different."
The VIPs on stage whispered. Before me stood Captain Michael.
My body had evaded his sword. His blade hovered in empty air beside me. My own tip rested at his throat.
An unexpected outcome. Surprise flickered across even Michael's face.
Can't blame him.
I was shocked too. I'd prepared the first form of the first chapter. Yet the strike that flew at the Captain was the second form.
I'd planned to watch his attack to the end, parry it, then counter with the first form.
Deflecting a Knight Captain's sword mid-air was no easy feat.
So my strategy was to hold out until the last possible second before reacting.
A risky gamble that could result in grievous injury, but with solid odds. Not banking on him holding back.
I'd instinctively trusted the Reinhardt blood would move me at the brink of death.
But it exceeded my expectations.
The Reinhardt blood was astonishing. Instead of parrying, it countered faster—with the second form, straight for his throat.
In essence, it detected mortal danger and unleashed a masterful riposte.
Michael still wore an incredulous expression. He soon regained composure and sheathed his sword. I did the same.
"The exchange of one blow is complete."
The Captain spoke softly. Our swords returned to their sheaths.
Then, in a voice booming as loud as Wilhelm's, he addressed the stage and plaza.
"I, Michael Schultz, Captain of the White Night Knights, swear on my honor as Captain to the people of Essenmont: Here and now, Count Harsen, Julian von Reinhardt, has fully completed his single exchange as the Border Count's heir!"
A proclamation that the formal heir succession rite had ended right here.
"Furthermore, I, Michael Schultz, swear upon Lord Jedin that Count Harsen's blow was a perfect strike worthy of a Reinhardt."
Applause and roars erupted across the plaza.
Tension drained from my body. The Trait: Ordinary Noble Scion kept me from collapsing on the spot.
Following Michael's words, the Count declared:
"The honorable Captain of the White Night Knights has borne witness! Thus, I, lord of Essenmont, proclaim here: Julian von Reinhardt is my official successor to the Border Count's seat. I swear it upon Lord Jedin and the war god Loia!"
With that, the White Night Knights and elite soldiers saluted in unison, hands over hearts—vowing to protect their lord's heir.
I had finally become the Border Count's official heir before the people of Essenmont.
This marked the end of everything I needed to accomplish here this winter.
The carriage rolled away from Essenmont Border County toward the capital.
Ten days since departing the Count's mansion. The imperial capital was now within sight.
"So we'll arrive in the capital tomorrow, Eirin?"
"Yes, Young Master. The roads from here are decent, so we should make it without issue."
I'd successfully become the official heir of the Reinhardt family during the Military Parade.
"Living as the Heir of Reinhardt"* Proof of Qualification as Official Heir You have successfully become the official heir of the Reinhardt family. The awakened blood of this swordsmanship dynasty will aid your sword skills. * Rewards Obtained
+100 GP / +300 MP
The rewards more than covered the resources spent on the parade. Now, my next task was returning to the Pantheon Academy.
Of course, Border Count Wilhelm had thrown a fit about sending me back.
"You've finally become the official Reinhardt heir. Forget the academy—stay here for heir training. Right by my side."
But that was impossible. Staying in Border County might hone me into a skilled knight or lord via the Reinhardt blood.
Without Pantheon, though, I couldn't develop my Demon King's blood or the vast potential of being the Saintess's son. Plus, sword training was plentiful there—no reason to stay.
I deflected.
"Without a lady or collateral nobles, House Reinhardt has no ties to the imperial center. But Pantheon has the Third Imperial Princess as a link to the royals. Not to mention networking with other noble scions. Spending a year there to build strong central connections isn't a bad idea, Grandfather."
"Oh, Julian. You're right—you've thought this through!"
Weak to his grandson's words as always, and with a plausible excuse, even Wilhelm couldn't argue further.
Besides, my baser self was screaming to get to Pantheon ASAP. It was a paradise overflowing with the empire's finest noble beauties.
Eirin and Uriel are great, but... I want to see the Witch Princess in the flesh soon.
Lillia Ramir Asterik, Third Imperial Princess of the Holy Empire and Saintess candidate. Luscious golden hair, jewel-blue eyes, and a sweet, puppy-like face full of grace.
But above all, those holy, massive mammaries beneath that face...
Just thinking about her chest sent blood rushing below. Eirin noticed.
"You've... risen again, despite my morning and lunch services. Need more attention?"
She slid from across the carriage to my side, her soft hand stroking my thigh.
Here we go again, Eirin.
Her eyes were different from usual. Since the parade, her demeanor toward me had shifted subtly. Still her cold, haughty self.
But on this carriage journey, she'd been even more proactive with her services, gazing at me with moist eyes. Like she was trying to keep me in post-nut clarity forever...
"Don't you enjoy my services, Young Master? You always seem sharper afterward... Like during the parade."
She must have sensed my changes and drawn her own conclusions.
Does she think it's because of her services that I'm fixed?
Not unlikely. Eirin continued.
"At Pantheon, you'll be a second-year now. You'll need to focus more on studies. If you stay this sharp there, I'll be thrilled..."
Her tone was unusually sticky-sweet. That voice and breath against my ear made my cock throb harder.
As expected, without asking, Eirin tugged down my pants and underwear. My dick sprang free with a thwup.
Clear precum beaded at the tip. Eirin licked it up like sweet syrup.
Slurp... Smmph...
Then she pursed her pink lips and engulfed my glans.