Chapter 20
Chapter 20
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 20
Chapter Title: Prove It
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"...What is this?"
Raik, the lightning mage from his older brother's faction among the Six Shields, asked on behalf of the group.
"As you can see, it's the revised edition."
"...Who wrote it?"
"Me."
"?"
"?"
Raik, whose mind had briefly wandered off and returned, pressed the issue.
"No, I mean... Right now, you're saying the cultivation method you wrote, Third Young Master, is better, so we've scrapped the Flower Wheel? Surely not."
For this moment alone, all the retainers set aside their factions, their eyes united in a single hopeful gaze. But I had no desire to fulfill that expectation. Casually, I picked at my nose with my index finger to show my stance.
"Yeah, I get what kind of answer you're hoping for. Ta-da, sorry to disappoint. Just as you feared."
"Wha...! What kind of madma—?!"
Raik was the lord's son and all that, but he looked ready to grab me by the collar right then and there.
"Raik!!"
His shout from my brother stopped him, leaving Raik fuming helplessly.
Even the worldly-wise Mercy hadn't anticipated such a response and stood silently. That's when Ares asked me coolly.
"Jerome, your confidence is certainly impressive. But even that has its limits. Do you truly believe the cultivation method you wrote holds that much value?"
Without waiting for my reply, Ares turned and snapped at Beskin as well.
"Sir Beskin, you too! How can you let your lacking younger brother stray down the wrong path? What is this unbecoming behavior..."
"...It's not wrong."
"What did you say?"
"The new cultivation method penned by the Third Young Master. I've tried it myself. It's undoubtedly improved."
"...Hah! Sir Beskin, has your long journey clouded your judgment?"
To think that one of the Six Shields would leap into practicing a mana cultivation method whose true effects were unknown!
What if conflicting methods damaged his mana core? How reckless!
Ares looked utterly shocked that Beskin, of all people, would say such a thing. But moments later, he fell silent as if his mouth were glued shut.
"Well, it's certainly usable."
"?!"
The man who had reached the highest realm in our family, even above Father, had affirmed the method I'd written.
He couldn't have missed that something had changed in Beskin, so he must have examined him thoroughly yesterday. And acknowledged it.
It was only natural.
'Used it well, didn't I?'
This cultivation method was one Father would write years from now, inspired by a sudden epiphany.
"I'm quite surprised. I never expected the third son to have such talent."
Sir Beskin had said Father rarely showed a startled expression upon reading it.
"This method nearly perfectly incorporates the improvements I'd been envisioning. All retainers, read it after the meeting concludes."
"……!!"
With Father's official endorsement, neither brother nor sister could nitpick me further. It would challenge the lord's authority.
"...Then why give an extra 5,000 gold? The wheat alone should more than cover the value of the old Flower Wheel..."
Raik squeezed out one more jab.
"Whoa, that's ugly, Sir Raik. Don't be like that."
"……!"
I covered my mouth as if witnessing something unsightly while looking at Raik.
"Marquis Midas has his pride. Even if it's being cleared out, you give something decent as compensation, right?"
Marquis Midas wasn't a fool. No matter the famine or rising wheat prices, he knew it could never surpass the value of a mana cultivation method.
With his information network, he'd soon uncover the truth. If he thought we'd taken all his stockpiled wheat for a now-useless method, resentment would brew.
But paying an extra 5,000 gold as compensation?
He'd know we'd considered his face.
Raik knew that too, which was why I was scolding him.
"Anyway, that's how it went. Any more questions?"
"……."
"……."
All the retainers fell silent.
"If not, shall we wrap this up?"
Just as I was about to end the report, a voice cut in.
"Prove it."
It was Mercy.
"Prove what?"
"Even with the lord—Father's—endorsement, I can't accept that a worm like you made a cultivation method better than our family's time-honored one. Prove this method you claim to have created."
What kind of unreasonable demand was this?
"Come on, Sir Beskin practiced it and proved it with his body, and the lord acknowledged it. What more proof do you want?"
"True, if you'd used some trick, Sir Beskin or Father wouldn't miss it. The method's effectiveness is beyond doubt. But."
Mercy pointed to the root of the issue.
"Where's the proof you created that mana cultivation method?"
Grinning slyly, Mercy propped her chin and tossed out a line.
"So, prove your talent. If you did something even I or brother couldn't, it means you're no worm."
Hm, she had a point. I figured Father would summon me privately after the meeting anyway.
I just hadn't expected Mercy to bring it up here.
"Fine, fair enough. So, what do I do?"
Mercy smirked viciously.
"Spar with me. Clean and simple."
Oh. That was unexpected.
As I stayed silent, Mercy pressed on, thinking she'd caught me off guard.
"Ah, I'm not saying beat me. That'd be too harsh for you, who hasn't even mastered Wood Spirit properly. But if you have the talent to whip up a real cultivation method like that, you should at least hold your own against me, right?"
Thud!
"If you're scared, I'll handicap you. Gladius won't give you a chance to prove anything anyway. Use a standard longsword. How's that?"
When Mercy added, "If you're really terrified, wooden swords are fine too," snickers erupted from her faction's seats.
They couldn't laugh openly with Father there, but their disdain was clear.
My brother's side to the left was a bit better, but not much.
Hm. Childish games. Brother or sister, they were still green back in my previous life. No need to play along.
I could just explain privately to Father later—no need for tiresome proof.
Father would acknowledge me just for changing.
Yeah, that was the least hassle. But.
'Pisses me off.'
I'm only fifteen now too. Young enough to clap back immaturely.
"Wooden swords? This isn't kid stuff. Bring your real weapon, sis."
I slowly rolled my neck and fists, staring Mercy down.
"Or the retainers will watch you get utterly humiliated."
The Shield Family served as the frontline fortress of the Ikenia Kingdom, facing the Holy Empire, monster forests, and borders.
With assumed enemies being monsters and zealots, knights and soldiers trained with brutal intensity.
To endure such rigorous drills, the training grounds inevitably received heavy investment.
Usually filled with shouts from dawn till dusk, today the vast Shield Family grounds hosted only a select few.
One man and one woman. The crowd sat scattered on the command platform, centered around them.
The woman spoke.
"You sure about this? Daring to face me unarmed. Don't expect mercy just because you're bare-handed. Losing with no weapon is too pathetic for a man—got it?"
The man shot back.
"Psh, why worry? Like you said, Wood Spirit doesn't suit me. And the shield's too heavy for me anyway. Question is, can you handle it, sis?"
"What?"
"Getting embarrassingly pummeled by your unarmed little brother? The retainers might all turn on you."
"...Hoho, sharp tongue. Shame, little brother. If you weren't Father's son, I'd have cut that slick tongue out nicely."
"Oh dear! Guess sis and I think differently. I'd beat you regardless of whose daughter you are."
Before me—the man—and Mercy—the woman—stood Arandal the Light Knight, reiterating the rules.
"...Both of you understand the precautions I mentioned? With live steel, show restraint. You're both precious to the family. No letting emotions cause serious injury."
"Yeah, yeah."
"Got it, got it. It's just posturing. Arandal, you've gotten old—nothing but needless worries now."
I brushed off Arandal easily, but Mercy added a line while hiding behind her massive shield.
"...Not that there's any reason emotions would flare."
That was her taunt? So childish.
"...Very well. Begin."
Arandal saw our ready stances, pulled a coin from his pocket, and flicked it.
The instant it hit the ground.
Boom!!
A massive explosion roared, dust billowing.
"Kugh!!"
Mercy, shielding herself, shrieked shrilly and tumbled back from my sudden strike.
"Come on, get up. We haven't even started the part that'd rile you up."
The taunt worked wonders!
The retainers' eyes bulged at the unforeseen outcome.
Father and Beskin seemed to have half-expected it, looking relatively calm.
I, of course, knew it'd go this way.
On this journey, I'd entered the early stages of Steel's second phase, Iron Body.
Inspired by the fierce battle with the orc Hatan, I'd nearly completed stage two upon returning.
'Of course, I can't exactly use Steel here.'
More precisely, no need to.
It wasn't just Steel that advanced on the trip.
Earth and Pankration—I'd drilled them endlessly in my past life.
Plus, with aura latent inside now.
A Pankration kick from such a body could topple Mercy's stance without Heterogenous Powers.
'No, just breaking stance? That's all?'
"Ha, fuck."
Mercy stood, brushing dust from her leather armor.
A strike that would've shattered ribs for most knights.
But in that instant, she'd deflected most of the impact with her shield.
True to our blood, she wielded it masterfully.
Then.
'First, smash that annoying shield.'
I concentrated aura in my right hand and charged straight at Mercy's shield.
"You little shit. Acting cocky to your big sis when your head's barely dry... Hup!"
Mercy hadn't expected such a brutish charge mid-sentence and swallowed air.
"Crazy wild boar bastard!"
Scree!
Mercy solidified defense with her left shield, slashing fiercely with her right gladius.
Perfectly cover with giant shield, strike vitals with the other weapon.
Mastering dual shield-and-sword control was her specialty.
Block my reckless charge with sword, then firm up shield defense.
But knowing her style, I had no reason to play along.
She loved stylish fights, and her style's flaw was clear.
'Lacking raw power!'
I infused aura into my left hand, parrying her diagonal slash.
And thrust my right with full force.
Once, the family shattered.
Once, the kingdom shattered.
And I shattered.
I'll change it all.
So it never happens again.
This fist was that beginning.
Boom!!
In the dust cloud from my charge, a ferocious blast echoed.
As it cleared.
Mercy's sword halted at my left arm. But the sharpened aura on her gladius, fueled by rage, drew dotted blood.
And the shield blocking my right.
Crack.
Small fissures spread from my fist.
Crack.
They intensified.
Shatter!
My past self, meaningless and useless in the family.
Shattered slowly, alongside Mercy's shield.