Chapter 7
Chapter 7
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: The Twin-Headed Blood Serpent
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At Paon’s declaration of dismissal, none of the executives gathered in the audience chamber could hide their bewilderment.
“Pardon? But, Patriarch, you said we’d discuss the matter of the successor after the Second Young Lord’s Gate Opening Ceremony…”
Indeed.
No matter how direct a descendant Ian was of the Lichtenauer Martial Clan, there was no reason for the clan’s finest elites to set aside their missions and convene here for the half-baked treatment of Ian’s ceremony.
The real reason they had postponed their duties and returned to the clan was precisely this issue.
To formally discuss the successor who would lead the clan’s future.
Only then could each squad leader push their favored candidate to the pinnacle of the next generation of the Lichtenauer family.
“Must I say it twice?”
Paon quietly turned the question back to the squad leader who had spoken up.
But no one present failed to recognize that Paon’s words weren’t truly a question.
“…My apologies, Patriarch. Please forgive my impertinence.”
“Hahaha! It seems the Patriarch has other pressing matters. Let’s all disperse for today. It’s an important issue, but it’s not as if today is the only day.”
In the audience chamber’s stiffening atmosphere, Eldest Young Lord Alex rose and smoothly eased the tension.
With the clan’s current master and its closest contender for tomorrow’s throne both signaling the end of the discussion, no one else dared add a word.
‘What can we do? The Patriarch has spoken. Let’s head back for now.’
‘Damn it. Who knows when we’ll make it back from the field next…’
In the end, all they could do was leave.
While venting their frustration over the wasted trip onto Ian, of course.
A short while later.
Only Paon Lichtenauer, the master of the clan, and Nedyr, the old magician who had unveiled the treasure, remained in the audience chamber.
“Heh heh! Patriarch, did you perhaps anticipate this outcome?”
Nedyr chuckled softly as he asked Paon, who had been wearing a dignified expression until moments ago but now leaned back in his chair with a groan.
“Ugh! Holding that stern face so long has left my cheeks aching. Did you ask if I expected it?”
Paon rubbed his face as he answered Nedyr’s question.
“As if. If I had, I would’ve been the first to suggest making Ian’s Gate Opening Ceremony grand from the start. That Alex… pulling such needless stunts.”
Paon, as Ian’s father, knew better than anyone how the clan treated him.
That was why Paon had no intention of holding a lavish ceremony for Ian’s Gate Opening.
No, he had even considered skipping it altogether.
Ian, cursed with that wretched constitution, could never hope to complete it successfully.
Yet Alex had insisted that they couldn’t hold such a meager event for the great Patriarch’s direct descendant, dragging every elite in the clan into it.
Of course, most squad leaders had come for the successor discussion.
But Alex hadn’t worried about that at all from the beginning.
After all, he firmly believed no one but himself could lead the clan.
“Heh heh heh! Still, doesn’t he seem ambitious? The one who’ll stand at the clan’s peak needs that spirit and drive, or they’ll just rot away.”
Paon snorted at Nedyr’s defense of Alex.
“Hmph! If one wants to be the clan’s successor, they must prove it fairly through martial prowess. I haven’t named him heir precisely because I dislike his scheming ways.”
“Well, if that’s how you feel.”
Nedyr merely shrugged at Paon’s firm stance.
Though he now served as the clan’s chief magician and advisor, his origins and true nature lay with the Magic Tower.
No matter how long he’d eaten the clan’s bread, meddling in Paon’s decisions would be overstepping.
“By the way, what do you think possessed young master Ian to choose that weapon?”
Nedyr smoothly shifted the topic to Ian.
Aside glance for three years teaches one to pick pockets.
Having lingered in the clan for so long, even Nedyr the magician knew how bizarre Ian’s choice was.
At Nedyr’s question, Paon recalled the recent events and let out an amused chuckle.
“Hoho! How should I know what’s in that boy’s head? But we’ll find out soon enough. Whether he picked it for mere show… or…”
Paon’s face, which had softened into that of a kindly neighborhood uncle while relaxing his muscles, now hardened with dignity and cold resolve.
“If he truly discerned its potential and has the ability to wield it.”
“Oh? So there’s some secret to it after all?”
“A weapon slumbering in the Weapon Orb—one you think I wouldn’t know about?”
“And yet you permitted it so readily. How ruthless.”
Nedyr calmly criticized Paon, but Paon didn’t blink.
“If he’s a fool who can’t even unleash the artifact’s potential, better he dies now—for his own sake. Limping along with half-baked talent and skill would only lead to a more miserable fall to Alex later.”
Before the Gate Opening Ceremony, Paon could still shield his worthless son.
But now that it was over.
From this point on, he had to respect Ian’s choice.
For Ian was now an official member of the clan.
Thud, thud!
It hadn’t felt like long, but the sun was already dipping toward the western horizon.
With his wounds treated, Ian walked back to his quarters alongside old butler Hans, bathed in yellow and red twilight hues.
Unlike other successors trailed by hordes of retainers, Ian’s entourage was so sparse it bordered on pitiful.
Before and after the Gate Opening Ceremony, nothing had changed for him.
No one supported him still, and he remained the clan’s halfwit.
The elites in the audience chamber hadn’t been impressed enough by his ceremony; his past antics had been far too clownish.
The only difference before and after Ian entered the Patriarch’s Residence was one thing.
Two ridiculous swords now hung firmly at his empty hips.
That was it.
“Is that the artifact you chose, young master?”
Hans eyed Ian’s waist with a surprised expression.
“Yeah. Why, does it look that weird to you too, Hans?”
“No, if you chose it, there must be a reason. It’s just…”
Fiddling with the monocle over his good eye, Hans stared fixedly at Ian’s swords.
“…I wonder if you can truly handle these blades.”
“What? Hahaha!”
Ian laughed heartily at Hans’s blunt, almost provocative words.
As expected, Hans was no ordinary man; he had some hidden depth.
He couldn’t have said that without sensing the swords’ potential.
No one dislikes having capable people by their side.
“We’ll see about that.”
Even at Hans’s loaded remark, Ian’s eyes brimmed with confidence.
‘I’ll tame you soon enough.’
Unaware or uncaring of Ian’s satisfied gaze on his waist, the twin swords merely swayed with his steps.
Several days passed since Ian’s Gate Opening Ceremony.
In that time, a few simple documents arrived at the Patriarch’s Residence.
Brief explanations of the weapon Ian had chosen.
Having become a proper warrior of the Lichtenauer Clan through the ceremony, he needed to know his new partner’s details better than anyone.
Rustle!
Ian sat on a sunlit rock in the courtyard behind his quarters, calmly reading the documents from the Patriarch’s Residence.
“Twin-Headed Blood Serpent, huh…”
A blood-red serpent with two heads.
The fearsome name alone sent chills; it was the true identity of the Black-White Sword Pair.
But as Ian read on, satisfaction spread across his face.
Flip!
The page turned at his touch, revealing more on the Twin-Headed Blood Serpent.
A long, slender white great serpent, and a short but sturdy lesser serpent.
With great and small heads merged into one weapon, their essence shares a single body.
The two heads, knowing they share one form, forever crave a new body.
Thus, wielder of the Twin-Headed Blood Serpent,
beware.
If your power falls short, it will discard your inept head and seek to claim your body.
…Thud!
A deeper smile curved Ian’s lips after reading to the end.
“I like it.”
Compared to the Golden Heaven Chain, it fell short.
That was only natural.
The Golden Heaven Chain was the ultimate weapon, forged from East Continent shamanism, West Continent blessings, and South Continent metallurgy.
Even if the Golden Heaven Chain were offered now, it would be mere pearls before swine for Ian at present.
A treasure becomes one only in worthy hands.
To the unqualified, it’s just a deadly curse.
That was why Ian was so pleased with his choice.
This was a treasure only he had noticed.
Swish!
Gripping the Twin-Headed Blood Serpent in both hands, he channeled Blood Demon True Qi, piercing through a strand of Solar Meridian Blockage as it coursed through his body.
Vmmm!
Concentrating the qi in his hands, he swung the long sword—the great serpent.
How much time passed?
“More usable than I thought.”
After training, Ian briefly assessed its length and feel.
As a sword rather than a chain like the Golden Heaven Chain, its range was more limited—a drawback.
But its razor-sharp edge promised superior lethality.
As he wore a satisfied expression,
Shrieeeek!
The great serpent’s blade tip, returning to position, suddenly lunged for Ian’s throat.
Clang!
Ian naturally parried it with the lesser serpent.
“…Hmm. So that’s how it is?”
It seemed taming this cheeky twin-sword would take some time.
Tap, tap, tap!
It was a night with a full moon overhead.
The man gazing at the sky from his window had a face like something out of a painting.
Plagued by worries, he leaned against the railing, lightly drumming his fingers as he stared at the brightly shining moon.
“Hmm… troublesome. Very troublesome. If you keep making your presence known like that… how can I ignore you?”
The man recalled his incompetent brother’s performance from days ago.
The Weapon Orb at the Gate Opening Ceremony.
Before the clan’s top elites, the fool had chosen an artifact beyond expectations—beyond his level.
It was unexpected, but not a big deal.
When Alex had undergone his own ceremony, he’d selected something from even deeper in the reserves.
So there was no real reason to dwell on his brother’s slight overachievement.
Yet, for some reason.
…Tap!
The fingers endlessly tapping the railing stopped.
“…It bothers me.”
Lately, everything involving his brother felt like a fishbone stuck in his throat.
Normally, the brother should’ve been buried in the nearby mountains the night before the ceremony.
Normally, after Yohan’s visit—having “understood” Alex’s mutterings—the brother should’ve vanished without a trace.
Normally, he should’ve crashed and burned spectacularly at the ceremony.
But.
The brother was still alive.
Yohan, who had acted on his words, had quietly vanished.
And at the ceremony, though no admiration, he’d drawn surprise.
Yes.
Trivial matters, all.
Far better to focus on collateral and vassal heirs than such petty chains of events.
But.
“If trivial things keep piling up, they cease to be trivial.”
The first moment he’d sensed something off about his brother.
Alex remembered it precisely.
When he hugged Ian returning from the mountains.
The fool who’d always gazed at him with blind trust had acted with uncanny boldness.
Fleeting as it was, Alex hadn’t missed that aura.
“…Clever little thing. Yes, the blood of the Lichtenauer Clan flows in you too, after all.”
He hadn’t expected claws hidden until the eve of the ceremony.
If he’d fooled even Alex so thoroughly, the others must’ve been blind to it.
If true, Ian’s depths were beyond imagination.
“Hmm…”
Tap, tap!
Alex closed his eyes again and resumed drumming the railing.
‘I don’t know what’s going on… but with Yohan gone, the chance to quietly clean it up has passed. So what now…?’
After wrestling with his thoughts, Alex reached a conclusion.
“Alright, Ian. Let’s judge you properly. Whether these recent events are coincidence… or if you’re truly a lion hiding its claws.”
The next morning, as the moon set and the sun rose, Alex set out early for the Patriarch’s Residence.