Chapter 5
Chapter 5
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: Gate Opening Ceremony
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"......"
Tadak, tadak!
The meager embers crackled and spat, leaving Yohan's corpse reduced to a pile of ashes without a trace remaining.
Ian scratched his cheek as he gazed at the ashes.
"Hmm, his loyalty was pretty impressive, at least. That wasn't the kind of pain anyone could just endure."
It was the intense heat harbored within the Solar Meridian Blockage, after all.
The searing agony that tore at flesh and boiled blood was something even he had struggled to bear.
"Well, even if he'd talked, I wasn't planning to let him live."
The man had dared to draw a blade against him. Death was inevitable, but Ian had at least hoped to learn who was behind it.
"I wonder who sent him. The Eldest Young Lord, after all...?"
Considering the faint killing intent he'd sensed earlier that day, the Eldest Young Lord seemed the most likely culprit.
'Whatever. It's not a big deal.'
Even if it wasn't the Eldest Young Lord but some other powerhouse from the Martial Clan, it didn't matter much.
No matter who sent them, if they came to kill him, Ian had no intention of dying quietly.
Back when he ruled the Northern Continent, ambushes had been practically a daily occurrence. Digging up every single mastermind behind them was nearly impossible, so Ian quickly pushed the recent attack from his mind.
In fact, thanks to the assassin's timely assault, he'd escaped a crisis, so there was no reason to dwell on it.
'That was a close one. I can't underestimate the Solar Meridian Blockage.'
Yohan could never have imagined it, but until moments ago, Ian had been in a truly precarious state.
As the energies of the Blood Demon Iron Chain Art and the Solar Meridian Blockage clashed, his inner realm had gradually overheated, steadily raising his body temperature to a scorching level.
Had that continued just a bit longer, Ian's untrained, fragile body wouldn't have withstood the overwhelming force and would have melted away without a trace.
Yes, just like Yohan's corpse now reduced to ashes before his eyes.
If the already-dead Yohan knew, he'd be pounding the ground in regret, but what could be done?
Ian lived, and Yohan died. The result was set; the past couldn't be changed.
"I should thank whoever sent the assassin."
Thanks to that, he'd been able to stably vent the excess heat from loosening one strand of the Solar Meridian Blockage's chains—heat he hadn't fully assimilated.
"Well, you came here to kill me anyway, so don't feel too hard done by."
Swik, swik!
Ian used the cleaning tools by the fireplace to sweep up Yohan's ashen remains.
Druruk!
He opened the window, let the wind scatter the ashes, then calmly went to bed.
For someone like him, who had faced countless assassination attempts in his life as the Hegemon, a visit from an assassin was just another part of his everyday routine.
The next morning.
Despite the assassination threat the night before, Ian slept soundly like a man blessed by fortune.
Knock, knock!
Someone knocked on the door, disturbing his sleep.
"Young Master Ian, it's Hans. May I come in?"
It was the voice of the aged butler who had served him faithfully since the moment of his birth.
"Come in."
Sruruk!
Thanks to proper oiling and maintenance, the large door opened without a single creak.
"Yawn... is it morning already?"
Ian mumbled as he gazed at the brightening sky.
"Young Master, today is the Gate Opening Ceremony. Normally, I'd let you sleep in a bit longer, but not today. I hope you understand."
'Ah, right.'
Alex had mentioned it yesterday morning. It was originally scheduled for yesterday, but they'd postponed it by a day out of consideration for him.
Clap, clap!
With Hans's light clap, maids waiting outside rushed in to check Ian's attire.
"Excuse us, Young Master."
Sak, sak!
After meticulously tending to every strand of his hair, they helped him into black formal robes.
The robes, made of clearly expensive material, were so elastic and flexible they could double as training garb without issue.
"Butler, the change is complete."
As the maid finished speaking, Hans opened the pocket watch on his chest.
Click!
"Good, if we leave now, we won't be late. Shall we go, Young Master? Time is tight for the ceremony, so we'll head straight to the Patriarch's Hall."
Step, step!
The Aslan Kingdom, the sole nation dividing the Southern Continent alongside the Great Cataclysm.
True to its status as one of the kingdom's premier martial organizations, the Lichtenauer Martial Clan was vast in scale.
Even departing early, by the time they reached the Patriarch's Hall, the sun had already climbed to its zenith.
Compared to noble houses on other continents, it was less a mansion and more a full-fledged fortress.
'Impressive. A renowned house even across the entirety of Agena.'
Back when Lucas's Alexandros Empire dominated the Northern Continent.
Rumors had circulated among the continent's people that the Hegemon of the North had abandoned ambitions of expanding south due to the enduring strength of the Lichtenauer family—evidence of their lofty status.
'Well, I never intended to conquer the South in the first place.'
The Northern Continent alone boasted an immense territory.
He'd watched Prime Minister Stion Ballanty's hair turn white just managing it.
There was no reason to covet the distant Southern Continent.
Step!
As he neared the Patriarch's Hall, Ian felt an intangible pressure gradually weighing on his shoulders.
To Lucas, it would have been laughable, but to Ian, it was oppressively heavy.
"Only blood relatives of the Lichtenauer line and the captains leading our elite strike teams may proceed beyond this point. Good luck with the ceremony, Young Master."
Hans halted just before the boundary where the pressure emanated from the Patriarch's Hall and spoke.
His demeanor was coldly precise, almost harsh, but Ian appreciated it.
It embodied the perfect fulfillment of a servant's duty, inspiring trust.
"Thanks for getting me here on time this early, Hans. Go rest now."
Tap, tap!
Like Lucas in his past life, Ian lightly patted the arm of the dutiful Hans in approval before proceeding alone into the depths of the Patriarch's Hall.
"......?"
Hans sensed something subtly off about Ian.
He hadn't noticed yesterday since Ian had gone straight to bathe and rest upon returning.
It felt strangely mature—like gazing at the Patriarch in his youth.
Hans watched Ian's back as he boldly entered, defying the pressure from the hall's masters.
"...I have a feeling something interesting will happen at this Gate Opening Ceremony."
He couldn't explain why, but the intuition struck him.
And Hans's instincts, honed over long years, rarely missed the mark.
A subtle anticipation curved the lips of the bespectacled butler.
'The Gate Opening Ceremony...'
Ian silently endured the pressure pouring from all sides as he walked the corridor of the Patriarch's Hall.
'It looks like a pretty big deal, that's for sure.'
Anyone not a fool could see that much.
The question was, what kind of ritual was it?
Gate Opening.
True to the literal meaning: opening a gate.
Ian suspected it was akin to a coming-of-age rite.
'Considering it's a Martial Clan... it'll probably involve demonstrating martial prowess. Wonder how it'll go?'
They might demand he reveal his cultivation level to prove his talent or pit him against someone to show his warrior spirit.
'If they want my level, I don't have much to show yet. If it's a spar... I can just handle it gently enough not to cause issues.'
Ian had reached the pinnacle of the continent in his past life.
Though his current aura was dust-like, the Blood Demon Iron Chain Art's potential was boundless.
He doubted even the famed Lichtenauer warriors would struggle him against mere ordinary martial artists.
'Not that I plan on losing anyway.'
Creak!
As he pondered the ceremony and withstood the intangible pressure from the hall's warriors, Ian arrived at the doors of the audience chamber.
"Second Young Lord Ian Lichtenauer enters the Patriarch's Hall!"
As if pre-arranged, the knights guarding the doors announced his arrival to the chamber interior.
Srururuk!
The massive doors, over five meters tall, swung open, filling Ian's vision with the chamber's interior.
Direct descendants and branch warriors of the Lichtenauer Martial Clan, along with elite strike team captains, lined both sides of the empty jade throne at the center.
'...Ho?'
A glint entered Ian's eyes as he surveyed the warriors.
'Well, look at that. Their caliber is... higher than expected.'
Were they core executives permitted in this audience chamber of a continent-renowned Martial Clan?
Not a single ordinary figure stood among them.
Each could lead a sizable mercenary band or command a great noble's knight order.
'...Maybe the rumors aren't entirely exaggerated.'
If Lucas had truly led the Alexandros Empire's forces to conquer the South.
It might have been more than a little troublesome—perhaps a full commitment from the entire empire, himself included, wouldn't have guaranteed victory.
Step, step!
As Ian slowly advanced toward the center over the carpeted floor, murmurs from the lined warriors reached his ears.
They made no effort to hide their conversation from him, whispering openly without aura transmission.
"Hah! We're swamped watching the Great Cataclysm, and they delay the ceremony a whole day for the likes of the Second Young Lord? Ridiculous..."
"They say the Eldest Young Lord personally requested it."
"Tsk tsk, everything about the Eldest Young Lord is perfect, but his love for his brother is a bit much."
"Isn't that his strength? That soft charisma."
"Kukuku, true enough."
Praise for the Eldest Young Lord, Alex.
And...
"Tsk tsk! Look at that scrawny frame. It's hard to have zero muscle definition like that. How badly did this so-called direct descendant of the Great Lichtenauer neglect his training leading up to the ceremony...?"
"What else do you expect from the Second Young Lord's reputation?"
"Puhahat! Fair point."
Some openly mocked Ian in his position as Second Young Lord.
From this stark divide in opinions, Ian precisely grasped the standings of Alex and himself.
Of course, he wasn't one to care about such petty jeers.
He knew the Blood Demon Iron Chain Art, once properly cultivated, would never betray his power.
Even the king of beasts, the lion, is weak as a cub.
For now, as a cub, he could ignore the yapping of dogs.
A true lion wouldn't be swayed by the barks of pups.
Ian reached the center of the audience chamber and slowly knelt on one knee.
How much time passed?
Enough that his kneeling knee began to tremble when the outer knight shouted again.
"The Master of All Weapons, pillar of the Southern Continent Bestrika, Marquis Paon Lichtenauer enters!"
With the knight's cry, the murmurs within the chamber vanished as if by magic, replaced by silence.
Step.
A single footfall.
Yet it filled the vast audience chamber with overwhelming presence.
Making everyone hold their breath, the man slowly ascended to the blue-tinged jade throne at the center.
"We greet the Patriarch!!"
The elites' salute rang out as the man seated himself on the throne.
Swish!
Bored expression, indifferent demeanor, propping his chin with one hand.
This man was the lord leading the Southern Continent's colossal force, the Lichtenauer Martial Clan.
Paon Lichtenauer.
Master of all weapons in the continent, one of the supreme powerhouses alongside the Northern Continent's Hegemon, Lucas.
Unlike his indifference to the yapping pups around him, Ian focused all his attention on the enthroned Paon.
He could gauge the man's realm just by looking.
'...This guy's strong.'
Astonishingly, Paon Lichtenauer had reached a realm half a step beyond Lucas from his past life.
Whether from ten years of growth or innate superiority, Ian couldn't say.
But one thing was certain.
In contemporary Bestrika of the Southern Continent—no, across the entire Mid-Realm of Agena.
This man was undeniably one of the pinnacle martial artists.
Regardless of Ian's assessment, Paon on the throne slowly spoke.
"Skip the pointless formalities. Begin immediately."
With Paon's declaration, Ian's Gate Opening Ceremony commenced.