Straight to the Main House
Licht did not hesitate. He strode without falter along the avenue leading straight to the main house. Blood from the duel dripped steadily beneath his noble gait—the considerable amount splattered across his clothes saw to that.
I could clean it all off, but...
Mana was nature's profound mystery, brimming with infinite possibilities. Its applications varied wildly depending on the user. He could wring every drop of blood from his clothes right now if he wanted, but Licht held back.
It's consuming more than I thought. I need to manage the distribution carefully.
Refining and releasing ambient mana wasn't limitless. It was heavily influenced by the user's mental strength. Licht's current realm was the 1st Circle. The quantity and purity of mana produced by a single ring had its limits. Under normal circumstances, he could only cast basic foundational spells. Coating his sword with mana was purely due to Licht's own prowess. The insights of one who had once surpassed the 8th Circle made the impossible possible.
"Kyaaak! Blood, blood...!"
"What happened?"
"Did that guy kill someone? Why's he covered in blood...?"
"Wait. That black hair. No way...!"
"Second Young Master!"
A commotion erupted wherever he passed. His striking appearance already drew eyes, but the blood-soaked clothes amplified it. This was the Barbalte Manor, seat of the kingdom's premier noble house. No one in the realm dared draw a blade here lightly—let alone on a bustling avenue. Even with his sword sheathed, strolling calmly while looking like he'd slain a man was bound to cause an uproar.
The old Licht couldn't have imagined such a scene.
I could have avoided it.
The duel on the avenue. He could have sidestepped it easily. The likes of First Young Master and the family's various hangers-on picking fights wasn't a one-off occurrence. He just needed to bow his head and endure the humiliation as always.
But he hadn't. To avoid shame before himself, he'd challenged them to a duel. This was a martial house. Once ignored, you fell endlessly. Blessed by the miracle of regression to stand here now, things had to change.
Amella Pavria.
He thought as he walked briskly. This bold move wasn't just to meet the head butler and claim his items.
I need to enforce discipline.
Leave it be, and they'd scheme against him at every turn. He had to make it crystal clear. So they'd never crawl back up.
This isn't the first time.
An unpleasant memory surfaced. In his weak days, under the pretext of being Barbalte's Second Young Master, he'd been dragged to endless banquets. Amid stares of curiosity, pity, contempt, and scorn, he couldn't even lift his head. Even when they insulted his mother to his face. He'd just bowed and endured it silently. Like a fool.
No more.
Licht raised his gaze. Two soldiers approached from afar, Barbalte crests emblazoned on their chests. Spotting him, they shouted.
"Halt! If you cause any more disturbance..."
"Second Young Master?"
They only recognized him up close. One soldier's eyes widened.
"What in the world happened? And your clothes..."
"We've had a report, Second Young Master. You'll need to come with us."
One was expressive, the other stoic. Licht eyed them and said,
"A report?"
"Forgive us, but we just follow orders... We ask for your understanding, Second Young Master."
"What unit are you from?"
"Pardon?"
The soldier blinked, caught off guard. It made sense. The Second Young Master was infamous for his weak temperament. A half-baked swordsman who couldn't even wield aura. They couldn't fathom why he'd act this way.
"We're..."
"Third Unit, right? Or am I wrong?"
"......!"
Their gait and bearing gave it away. Third Unit members were skilled—for ordinary folk without aura, anyway.
"You know your stuff. Then..."
"I refuse."
"......"
"Step aside. I have business."
His outright command twisted their faces. Displeasure clear, hands drifting to sword hilts, ready to use force if needed.
"Second Young Master."
"......"
"If you insist, we have no choice. Forgive us."
The soldiers assumed stances. Licht's gaze dropped low.
Would you have acted the same toward Cliff?
No. They'd have bowed from the first glance.
It's all because I was weak.
Self-inflicted karma. His standing in the family was mired in filth. Licht didn't evade.
"Understand this."
"What..."
Boom!
He slammed mana into the ground beneath his feet. The pavement exploded. The two, realizing too late, reached for swords—but it was over.
"Guhk!"
"Kuhk!"
Licht's fists struck faster than their blades. They crumpled simultaneously. Even as the soldiers slumped unconscious, Licht didn't slow. He dashed across the avenue in full stride. Startled faces blurred by, people shrieking and dodging to the sides. The rushing wind tousled his black hair wildly.
No time.
Word must have already reached the main house. If he truly wanted to see the family head, speed was life from here on.
Soon, a grand mansion loomed not far off. The true heart of Barbalte within Barbalte Manor. Where the family head and his direct kin resided.
"Who goes there!"
"Halt! We'll cut you down!"
Knights guarding the front gate. Licht stomped mid-stride.
Thud!
His silhouette accelerated once more. Late-drawn blades sliced empty air behind him. Shocked gasps echoed at his back. Before him stretched a vast, beautiful garden, the main house beyond.
That was when it came.
Kiiing—
A fierce blue flame surged from the side. A diagonal strike. He sensed it and light flickered. His drawn blade scattered pure white radiance, parrying effortlessly.
Clanggg—!
A sharp metallic ring cut across the garden.
"......!"
The sudden attacker's eyes blinked in disbelief. Eight more knights had appeared behind him unnoticed. Licht steadied his stance. The sword in his grip had already dimmed.
"Sir Bail Crane."
"......"
The named knight's eyes darkened deeply. Swift emotional shift—proof of his caliber. The knights behind looked no less formidable. This was Barbalte's main house. Its denizens were either retainers or formally appointed knights of Sword Runner rank or higher.
And all puppets of that woman.
Bail Crane. Eldest son of the knightly Crane house, loyal to Barbalte for generations. Exclusive knight to First Young Master Evan Barbalte. Renowned as a Sword Expert swordsman, and barely past thirty.
In raw power alone, far stronger than Licht now.
"Heard the daytime ruckus and wondered what it was."
"......"
"Have you lost your mind, Second Young Master? Do you think this place is safe to barge into unannounced?"
His calm tone carried incredulity. Not just for the intrusion. Despite his composure, Licht saw it: the shock hidden in those eyes. That Licht had blocked his strike. A Sword Expert knight's ambush from a blind spot.
Licht said,
"I have business. Step aside."
"Whether you've been hiding it, or lucked into some opportunity—I don't know the reason."
Bail paused, then continued.
"But this is Barbalte's main house, Second Young Master. We can't overlook an intrusion like this."
"Do I need to send word ahead to visit my own home?"
"Of course. This is where the family head resides. No exceptions."
"I'm this house's second son."
"And the bastard spawn of some nameless woman."
A sneer curled Bail's lips. He'd brazenly struck Licht's sore spot. Possible only because of the gulf: bastard who couldn't use aura versus the exclusive knight of the eldest legitimate son. It spoke volumes of Licht's wretched position. The knights behind smirked mockingly. A gaze all too familiar from his past self.
"That woman."
"That woman?"
"Using the head butler like a limb, and now showing her true colors. Plenty of mongrels wagging tails for scraps of power. Time to restore the family's order."
"Are you mad, Second Young Master?"
His tone flipped in an instant. Extreme shift. Licht dropped the formalities too.
"Clear the way. You're not worth talking to anymore."
"Think you can handle the consequences? I report directly to the family head. You dare?"
"Words won't work."
"Mad dog. Truly lost your mind."
The air turned hostile. Licht subtly scanned his surroundings.
Hit their blind spot. One chance.
Bail was a Sword Expert knight. Even at full strength, Licht's single ring couldn't win. Especially after burning considerable mana against Cliff. No options.
Until recently, Licht was known as aura-less. Exploit that perception. Strike in the moment of carelessness, and the path would open.
"Turn back now. I'll report to my lord. If you don't want true banishment..."
"Enough."
Boom!
He charged. Mana erupted with every step, dirt flying. In the stretched moment, Bail reacted instantly, the others a beat slower.
Break through at once.
Body low, sword raised overhead. Dazzling radiance burst forth. Sword Expert was no empty title— even in slowed time, Bail moved a cut above. He'd already drawn and positioned to parry Licht's blade.
No acceptance. Licht hurled his sword.
"......!"
Startled, Bail swiftly deflected the incoming blade.
Clang!
Even parted from his hand, the lingering mana storm raged. Bail's sword reeled from the recoil. Licht detonated mana at his feet, accelerating again. A speed leaving afterimages. By the time Bail regripped, it was too late. The gate knights' sword rode mana winds back to Licht's hand.
A sweeping arc. Soaring blade.
Clanggg—!
Bail's body tilted sideways, sword locked. The path gaped open. Licht bolted through.
Bail bellowed,
"Stop him! Stop him, I said!"
The belated knights drew and lunged. But too slow. Licht shoved the grand doors with his foot.
Bang!
The air shifted. Inside was opulent splendor. Twin staircases rose to the second floor, a vast open space below bustling with servants. More knights leaned on the upstairs railing.
"What? What's going on?"
"Second Young Master! Why's he storming the main house?"
"Wasn't he recuperating in the annex?"
"Intruder!"
Bail's roar echoed behind. The knights' faces hardened instantly.
Push through.
The moment Bail yelled, Licht was already bounding up the stairs. Terrifying speed. Knights who relaxed upon recognizing him now paled in succession.
Sching! sching!
Half-drawn blades met white sword strikes. Snapped hilts cleaved empty air futilely.
"It's the Second Young Master! He's heading for the dining hall!"
"Kyaaak!"
"Out of the way, move!"
Knights' shouts, servants' panicked screams. He ignored them. He raced down the second-floor corridor. Servants recoiled or tumbled in reflex. He knew the main house layout intimately. Soon, the dining hall doors appeared—guarded by two knights staring at his approach.
"Second Young...?"
"Intruder! Snap out of it!"
Before words finished, Licht swung.
Thwack!
The flat of his blade felled them pre-draw. From inside, a faint voice:
"Licht Barbalte, the Second Young Master, has defeated Cliff Barbalte and is now heading here to the main house...!"
Mana-infused kick.
Bang!
Doors burst open. The dining hall's scene filled his view.
"That's far enough."
Two escort knights—unnoticed until now—aimed swords at his throat. Sword Experts of notable skill. He knew without seeing their aura.
Pure white mana drifted down Licht's right hand like melting snow.
"Licht."
Abel's low voice rumbled. Every eye in the dining hall fixed on Licht's right hand.