A Sentence That Comes to Mind
Cael responded to Arjen's impressions without hesitation.
"I'm glad you're finding it amusing."
Looking at Arjen, Cael swallowed his honest thoughts. 'A powerhouse on a level I haven't seen since arriving here... but...'
It was true that he felt a bit disappointed. The man didn't quite measure up to himself in his past life as the Heavenly Demon, Cheon Woo-jin.
Still, the overwhelming aura emanating from him was easily on par with the leader of the highest echelon of martial forces that commanded the martial world from below him. 'Young Il-rang would've had a fine match with him.'
The face of the man who had served as his right hand in the Shipman Mountain Range flashed through his mind.
Cael's current body couldn't even unleash a tenth of his power from his days as the Heavenly Demon—it was in an incomplete state. If he clashed with Duke Arjen, his head would fly before he could last five exchanges.
Yet there was a clear reason Cael could act so boldly before the family's greatest martial force, the patriarch himself.
It stemmed from his deep understanding of life as an absolute ruler, having reigned for long ages himself.
For those who gripped overwhelming might and power, the greatest enemy wasn't fear—it was boredom.
If he acted this arrogantly while tossing out intriguing bait, Arjen couldn't kill or cast him aside right away, if only out of curiosity. After all, wasn't that the essence of life in the martial world, where worthy rivals were so scarce one fretted over their deaths?
'The Wudang True Man... he never came to challenge me.'
The Wudang True Man, deemed Cheon Woo-jin's sole rival, hadn't joined the alliance army bent on driving him out. His pride must have been wounded.
'Come to think of it, I had quite a few ties with Wudang.'
By that logic, the Arjen before him couldn't be untouched by such an absolute ruler's existence. As an absolute being, he'd inevitably find this especially intriguing.
Of course, if that shallow interest waned and he fell out of favor, his head would roll in an instant—but Cael was confident. Confident he wouldn't disappoint Arjen.
Was Cael's thinking correct?
"Kuh... kuahaha! KUHHAHAHAHA!! KUHAHAHAHAHA!!!"
Arjen suddenly threw his head back and burst into laughter. His booming voice echoed across the central plaza in all directions.
Everyone abruptly drew in their qi, bodies stiffening. It was because Arjen was unleashing his unrestrained aura from his body—a ferocious energy.
The sheer spirit and shockwave in his laughter alone felled the weaker retainers among those lined up, foaming at the mouth.
Whoosh—!
A gale-like force battered Cael's entire body, but he stood firm without so much as a twitch of his brow.
The onlookers couldn't hide their shock at Cael's steadfast back, casually weathering Arjen's laughter.
In all their lives serving the ducal house, had they ever seen the patriarch laugh so heartily? No, never.
Arjen stopped laughing, propped his chin, and spoke with gleaming red eyes.
"Fine. We'll see. I have high expectations."
In that moment, an unbelievable upheaval was etched into the minds of everyone in the plaza.
Arjen was the sort who never let insolence or breaches of etiquette slide.
Yet he'd tolerated Cael's provocation.
The duke's return ceremony thus ended as Cael's unexpected solo performance, beyond anyone's predictions.
The moment they entered the room, Ella collapsed as if her legs had given out, her face ashen as she cried out.
"Y-Y-Y-Y-Y-Y-Young Master!! What in the world possessed you to say something like that in the plaza?!"
Ella stammered incoherently, pacing frantically before Cael and stomping her feet.
Cael leaned back comfortably in his chair and chuckled.
"Is it such a crime for a son to tell his father to witness his growth?"
"Th-That's not it!! What if something huge happens now!?"
Cael lifted his teacup leisurely and asked.
"Even after seeing my abilities so clearly, you're still worried about me?"
Ella knew Cael's prowess and talents were real.
But before the infamously merciless duke, the north's tyrant, instinctual fear took over.
"Still, I'm worried! The duke has no mercy whatsoever... If he takes even a slight dislike to you, he might send the knights after you any moment!"
"Don't worry. That won't happen."
It was just as Cael was about to sip his tea.
'The tea here's way better than in the martial world.'
With modern elements mixed into this world's setting, daily life was incomparable to the martial world.
"More importantly, I'm hungry. Go make some food."
"You're hungry? Wait just a moment, Young Master."
As Ella turned to leave the room.
Knock knock—
A knock echoed.
Ella's shoulders jerked, and the room went on high alert.
Trembling like a leaf, she whispered into Cael's ear in the tiniest voice.
"Wh-What do we do! Th-The duke might've already sent someone to drag you away!!"
"That guy's just overreacting..."
But Cael set down his teacup calmly and spoke.
"The door's open. Come in."
Cael had already sensed from the presence outside that it wasn't one of the duke's men. No murderous intent or knightly aura.
Creeeak—The door opened cautiously, revealing Jerdin, another of his brothers from the ducal house whom he'd briefly crossed paths with at the welcome ceremony.
A boy exuding an eerie, chilling aura far beyond his years.
'Younger than Isabel?'
His frame was scrawny and unimpressive, shadows pooling thickly over his pale cheeks.
Even when Cael had read the novel Sword Master Collection, this kid was barely mentioned, leaving his role in the family a mystery.
'There must've been some reference somewhere...'
As Cael pondered, a line from the novel suddenly surfaced in his memory.
There is a rumor that a ghost resides in the ducal house's spire. Dismissed as nonsense, the strange truth is that no stairs lead to it.
Only Arjen knows what lurks there.
Why did this neither short nor long sentence come to mind now, of all times?
Just a bit of bait the author tossed out, never reeled back in.
But if it referred to this kid...?
'This guy's aura...'
Cael's eyes darkened subtly.
As Jerdin stood silently by the door, Cael spoke first.
"If you're here, state your business. What is it?"
At Cael's calm voice, Jerdin's tightly shut lips parted slightly.
"Brother..."
His cracked voice weighed down the room's air.
"Why... aren't you mad...?"
Cael's brow furrowed faintly.
"Hm?"
Jerdin raised a bony finger, hesitantly pointing at Cael's chest.
"The energy... inside Brother... It feels... so similar to mine..."
Cael was mildly surprised.
'He sensed the chaos qi flowing in me?'
Not impossible, of course. Cael's current martial prowess was far short of his past prime, not yet reaching the Return to Origin state where he could perfectly conceal his energy flow.
But chaos qi, in Cael's view, was subtler than any energy he'd encountered. Even high-rank aura users could only sense its strength, not pinpoint its nature.
For this to be possible, the gloomy kid was either a transcendent master surpassing the duke... or...
'He harbors a similar energy.'
An energy akin to chaos qi. Without the Tai Chi mysteries, it would mean pure and demonic forces clashing, rampaging in toxic fury.
Any normal human would burst their meridians from the conflict or lose their sanity to madness.
Now Cael understood Jerdin's question about why he wasn't mad.
An intrigued smile tugged at Cael's lips.
"Oh? You say the energy in me resembles yours?"
Jerdin nodded laboriously.
"Yes... but how... does Brother... stay so sane...?"
Breathing seemed agonizing; cold sweat beaded on Jerdin's forehead.
Jerdin Restis. The ducal house's youngest, holed up like a ghost in the castle's corner, never even entering the academy.
Sensing the boy's extraordinary circumstances, Cael gestured to the sofa.
"Sit. And give me your wrist."
Jerdin looked up blankly.
"My... wrist?"
"Yes, your wrist."