Chapter 22. Geumseong Branch (7)
Episode 22. Golden Star Tournament (7)
Dr. Crombell's jaw dropped when he arrived at the Karsen family's grand estate.
"What in the world... is all this?"
'Even for a Grand Duke's family, this goes far beyond what I'd expect from a frontier noble.'
He hadn't anticipated the estate would be this massive. And the river flowing before the mansion—was it called the Rumenia?
The river's mystical blue mana flowed directly into the estate, maintaining a warm and refreshing spring-like climate inside. Crombell found himself momentarily enchanted by this phenomenon, like a child mesmerized by a beautiful glass marble. His eyes sparkled with wonder.
'Incredible. Absolutely incredible!'
As he crossed the bridge toward the mansion, a slightly portly middle-aged man with thick hair approached him.
"Excuse me, might you be Doctor Crombell?"
"That I am."
"Greetings. I'm Roman, servant to Sir Sion Karsen. We've been expecting you. Please allow me to escort you to the reception room."
"Ah. Yes. Very well."
Following Roman's guidance, Dr. Crombell entered the Karsen estate—and was stunned all over again.
The mansion rivaled the Central Imperial Palace in scale. But it wasn't just about size.
Luxurious chandeliers, opulent decorations, and tapestries lining the corridor walls.
"Oh! Are these tapestries depicting the Karsen family's history?"
Roman answered with a proud smile.
"Indeed, they are."
Tapestries were woven fabrics where different colored threads intertwined to form images. Yet each of these massive works stretching along the corridor spanned over ten meters.
They chronicled the Karsen lineage—from the myths of Lumen, a god said to have vanished millennia ago, to the family's founding, their wars against the demon race in the Bukcheon Mountains, all the way to the present day.
It was truly the visual history of an entire noble house.
"Ah... This is truly magnificent."
Crombell couldn't stop marveling, his childlike wonder making him momentarily forget why he'd come here in the first place.
After passing through the breathtaking corridor into the garden, he was shocked yet again. The grounds were filled with plants rarely seen in the North.
The sheer number of gardeners and servants maintaining the vast estate was staggering.
But what truly set his heart racing was the impossibly large magic circle enveloping the entire mansion.
'What archmage in their right mind could create something this insane?'
His pulse quickened.
He wanted to examine every detail immediately—the arrangement of magic stones, mana efficiency, whether the focus was on insulation or thermal energy formation, what magical formula connected it to the Rumenia River.
He barely restrained the urge to dissect it all on the spot.
After all, he was a guest here.
Upon entering the reception room, Roman said:
"Please wait here."
Crombell nodded and sank into the sofa. Plush. It was unbelievably soft and comfortable.
'Ah... Now I understand why the Central Empire was so desperate to claim the North.'
Then—
Creak.
The door opened, revealing a tall, striking man in a black suit.
Thud. Thud.
His military boots echoed rhythmically.
Brilliant golden hair, eyes of unfathomable depth, and handsomeness beyond compare. An intimidating aura radiated from his appearance and bearing.
He smiled warmly and spoke.
"Welcome, Dr. Crombell. I'm Sion Karsen."
Crombell's first impression of Sion was succinct:
"You're uncommonly handsome."
"Haha, I appreciate the compliment."
Honestly, more extravagant praise nearly escaped his lips, but he held back.
'Enough of that. We still have unfinished business.'
Crombell steeled himself. No more being swayed by noble names, grand estates, or dazzling appearances.
True to his reputation as an eccentric, he cut straight to the point with blunt words.
"Speaking of which... Your letter was rather presumptuous."
A rude remark for a first meeting. Yet he remained steadfast, and Sion didn't seem offended.
"My apologies if I caused offense. But whether it was presumptuous... Well, that remains to be seen."
Ahem. Crombell cleared his throat before continuing.
"I've heard rumors about you."
"Must have been confusing."
"A half-wit. A failure. And yet the subject of such gossip dares to call me a mad scientist who disappeared? Do you understand? I didn't come here to join forces with you—I came because I couldn't ignore that letter."
"Again, I wonder. Doctor, do you strike me as someone swayed by rumors?"
Sion remained unshakably composed, which irked Crombell. Not that it was unpleasant—just... grating.
"No. No matter how much fools prattle, they'll never see through the times. That's why I came to see for myself. I don't believe anything until I witness it firsthand."
"Perfect timing. I've prepared a stage for you to see exactly that."
"What? A stage?"
"Today happens to be the finals of the Golden Star Tournament in the northern capital, Siren."
"So you're telling me you've reached the finals?"
"Yes. The final match begins soon. Join me. I'll show you exactly the kind of person I am."
"Ha!"
Dr. Crombell burst out laughing at Sion's unflappable demeanor.
"You really are insane."
Unfazed by the insult, Sion maintained his gentle smile.
"I'll escort you to the VIP seats."
"Heh. Unbelievable."
Crombell couldn't fathom how far Sion's composure would stretch.
Before stepping onto the finals stage, I surveyed the packed stands.
The famed <Kaisus> Arena, renowned for its size, was filled to capacity—the largest crowd in the tournament's history.
In my past life, the Golden Star Tournament had been irrelevant to me, something I'd never paid attention to.
'Who knew it would come to this?'
The crowd wasn't here just for the finals. The two names about to face off had undoubtedly drawn them in:
Me, Sion Karsen, and my childhood friend Sylvia Meyer.
The Meyer family was a renowned swordsmanship lineage.
Seventeen years ago, they were wiped out by unknown assailants, leaving Sylvia as the sole survivor.
How heavy must the burden have been on her shoulders, becoming the head of a nearly extinct house?
During the attack, the Meyer family patriarch and matriarch had placed young Sylvia on their white tiger magical beast and sent her to the Karsen estate.
A parent's desperate attempt to save their child.
By the time Father learned of the attack and arrived at the Meyer estate, the assailants had fled, leaving no survivors.
Father and Mother took in the orphaned Sylvia, and she's lived in the Karsen estate ever since.
'She was so... dark when she first arrived.'
Trauma kept Sylvia from holding a sword until she was fifteen. Then, for reasons unknown, she overcame her fear and took up the blade again.
With her innate talent, she became an intermediate knight by twenty-two.
I turned my gaze to my opponent seated beneath the opposite canopy.
Senior Inspector Sylvia Meyer. Her sapphire eyes gleamed with intensity.
Her unyielding gaze was so formidable that countless men who'd been drawn to her beauty fled without daring to meet it.
As a child, I'd admired her while simultaneously feeling inferior.
Despite starting late, she'd surpassed me by leaps and bounds—and I'd envied that.
The mix of admiration and inferiority had brought out the worst in me...
Ugh.
An unpleasant memory surfaced.
Lost in thought, I was startled by Midgal's booming voice:
"Then! Let the Golden Star Tournament finals begin!"
Snapping back to attention, I leaped onto the stage and watched Sylvia ascend.
A breeze stirred her long, deep-blue hair. Looking at her face, I said:
"Long time no see. You're as beautiful as ever."
Sylvia looked momentarily stunned. To her, this wasn't a reunion—but for me, it truly was. My first time seeing her since returning.
Though I'd long since let go of my romantic feelings for her, gratitude and guilt remained lodged in my heart.
'I'm sorry. For leaving you to die with the North.'
I won't let that happen again. And I'll help you grow stronger.
While lost in memories and resolutions, Sylvia sharpened her melodious voice into a blade:
"You're not taking this seriously. I thought you'd changed, but was I mistaken?"
I smiled apologetically.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to dismiss you. But if you think I'm the same as before, you're in for a surprise."
Shing—
Sylvia drew her sword.
"Prove it with your blade."
Seeing her sharpened edge pointed at me, I couldn't help but laugh.
"What's this about?"
"Ah, sorry. I really wasn't slacking off. It's just... nostalgic."
After apologizing to Sylvia, I glanced up at the VIP seats.
My brother Sid and Dr. Crombell were there.
I searched for Father...
But he was nowhere to be seen.
More than disappointment, I felt a pang of bitterness.
And a small wish surfaced.
Father.
Wherever you are... I hope you're watching this through an artifact.
I hope you'll see your son trying to change.
In the competitors' section, I spotted Louis Dykken, Bwindol, and Bill—all bandaged up. Why'd they even come? Whatever.
Ending my brief reverie, I spoke:
"You said to prove it with my blade?"
"Yeah."
Shing—
I drew my sword.
"Gladly."
Midgal stepped between us and bellowed:
"Let the finals begin!"
Boom!
As the drum sounded, I kicked off the ground.
Clang!
Our blades met. Flames erupted from my sword, while icy aura surged from Sylvia's.
The two opposing forces locked in a fierce struggle.
Grrrr—
Amidst the clash, I activated [Mana Detection], gathering all information on Sylvia to secure victory.
Clang!
We both recoiled slightly. But Sylvia flowed seamlessly into another leap, slashing downward.
Crack!
Her reinforced aura pressed heavily against my blade. A numbing shock traveled up my wrist and arm.
I tightened my grip, pouring strength into my sword as if refusing to yield.
"Haaah!"
Like the roar of the Fire Dragon's Breath, flame-attribute mana surged from my core where I'd felt the intense cold.
The polished blade reflected crimson flames, shimmering scarlet. Highly condensed heat began pushing back Sylvia's aura.
"......!"
Her eyes widened.
Clang!
She created distance, and the audience erupted.
"Whoooooa!"
In that instant, I traced a smooth arc through the air.
Slicing through the flames born from my sword, my burning aura extended beyond normal range.
Whooosh—!
Blazing energy tore through the air.
Sssshhk!
Everyone watching was stunned.
The spectators, referee Midgal Lau, the nobles, the competitors, the bandaged Louis Dykken, Sid Karsen, Dr. Crombell—everyone.
"He extended his aura into a sword beam!"
But none were more shocked than Sylvia.
Of course, as a knight nearing senior rank, she swiftly countered.
Her blade moved like flowing water, carving a blue crescent through the air.
Two razor-sharp slashes collided midair.
KABOOOM—!
The explosion reverberated throughout the arena. Gasps turned into roaring cheers.
"WOOOOOAH!"
Clap clap clap clap clap!
August in the North.
The Golden Star Tournament's climax far exceeded all expectations, filling the arena with electrifying energy.