Chapter 1
Chapter 1
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Episode 001
-----------------------------------------------------------------
─Dong, dong, dong, dong.
The bell tolled loudly, echoing through the air.
It was the bell of the Lion’s Den, signaling that today’s training had finally come to an end.
At the sound, a man stealthily moved his hand.
His long, grayish-white hair fell past his shoulders, and a black mask covered half his face from his forehead to his cheekbones, giving him a striking appearance.
The man reached into the inner pocket of his coat to pull out a cigarette case.
It was a luxurious case wrapped in fine leather, filled with high-end cigarettes that looked quite expensive.
Click, click—.
With a sharp snipping sound from his practiced motion, the tip of the cigarette was trimmed and fell to the floor. He struck a match with expert ease, drew in the smoke, and opened his mouth.
“Has it been exactly one month since the Lion’s Den began today?”
Whoosh—.
The man’s identity was none other than Veil Jordic, the Chief Administrator of the Lion’s Den.
Among the five great families that even the emperor of the empire dared not treat lightly, the Jordic Family—ruling like kings in the northern continent and wielding immense influence, much like the Dun Bringer Family that controlled half the southern region—was known for its philosophy of Winner Takes All and Survival of the Fittest.
【Northern Overlord Jordic Family】
As could be seen from the family’s nature, unlike other houses that feigned righteousness and justice on the surface, the Jordics were infamous for their overtly domineering tendencies.
As his full name suggested, Veil was one of those who carried the blood of the Northern Overlord.
Though he was a distant collateral relative rather than direct lineage, his strength had earned the current family head’s recognition, leading him to serve as both captain of the Black Lion Knights and Chief Administrator of the Lion’s Den.
A master who had reached the pinnacle.
And the Lion’s Den was the term for a talent-nurturing facility that the Jordic Family operated every few decades.
From certain perspectives, it could be seen as a branch of an academy.
‘Of course, what lunatic would think of the Lion’s Den that way—.’
Veil let out a scoff mid-drag on his cigarette.
As he said, aside from being a talent-nurturing facility, the Lion’s Den differed fundamentally from typical academies.
Unlike regular academies that selected students by background, the Lion’s Den accepted nobles and commoners alike, as well as beggars, orphans, vagrants, and pickpockets.
‘It gathers talent regardless of status and conducts training where trainees can lose their lives not only to instructors but also to fellow trainees.’
That was the Lion’s Den.
The common view that it was a place to clash stones against stones to reveal the jade wasn’t entirely wrong, ignoring differences in status or wealth.
‘When stones collide, one is bound to shatter.’
In reality, only about one in six or seven trainees graduated from the Lion’s Den unscathed.
Moreover, during training, trainees were cut off from all external contact or communication.
There were rules and regulations that made fair comparison to typical academies impossible.
And the reason the Jordics bothered running such a dangerous facility was clear.
‘It fosters talent through brutal competition, and…’
It also served to instill vigilance in the vassal families under their command.
In fact, several Lion’s Den graduates had threatened—and even usurped—existing vassal houses.
It was the perfect way to remind them that stagnation leads to rot.
As a result, simply surviving the Lion’s Den intact had become one way to elevate a family’s honor.
This had turned it into a trend among certain nobles to deliberately send their children there.
‘Of course, most of those families are declining or losing power.’
With that, Veil ended his brief reflection on the Lion’s Den’s system and spoke softly.
He flipped through the reports on the desk before him.
“The children’s training seems to be progressing as expected. What about the items I ordered prepared?”
The man standing opposite replied cautiously.
“As you instructed, we’ve placed orders with the five merchant guilds we trade with. We ordered generously, so we should secure the supplies on schedule.”
It was the voice of the Lion’s Den’s Deputy Administrator, who also served as Veil’s adjutant.
Due to the difference in rank, he wore a mask similar to Veil’s but slightly different.
“Keep checking the supplies just in case. And…”
Veil nodded appropriately and continued.
“We’ll cut the meal rations starting three months from now.”
“…You mean?”
“After basic physical training ends and aura and swordsmanship practice begins. We’ll start with…”
Veil pondered briefly before concluding.
“The evening meal.”
The evening meal was the one ration allowed only after the day’s training ended.
Veil’s intent in reducing it was blatantly obvious.
‘By cutting meals, we deliberately create conflict among the children, pitting those who steal against those who defend.’
Through that process, the children would naturally grow accustomed to combat and real battles.
For the Jordics and their Lion’s Den, who championed Winner Takes All and Survival of the Fittest, it was the perfect training method.
And—
‘Even if they don’t fight, it doesn’t matter.’
There were other ways to accustom them to combat… Veil tilted his head and asked.
“By the way, how’s that one doing?”
“That one?”
“…”
Veil trailed off briefly, narrowing his brow.
“Kuhn Jordic.”
…Unlike Veil, a collateral, Kuhn was direct lineage carrying the Northern Overlord’s blood.
…Yet he had a feeble personality unfit for a lion and was born with the congenital curse called Dream of the Dead.
…Having lost both parents young, he was pushed out of the main family’s factional strife and ultimately sent to the Lion’s Den by the elders’ council.
…A flawed cub lion full of defects.
Recalling memories of the boy, Veil irritably stubbed out his cigarette.
‘The one thing that bothers me is not knowing why he was sent to the Lion’s Den.’
—Tsssk.
‘Lions give weak cubs one last chance by shoving them off a cliff—.’
As the saying went, if it was simply the elders’ decision, it would be fortunate.
He’d be stuck with a troublesome kid by status, but it was essentially exile to die.
The problem arose if political motives lurked behind it.
Veil frowned again at the possibility and muttered.
“I wanted no part in the main family’s political games, at least.”
That was why the Black Lion Knights under his command had remained loyal only to the family head, unaffiliated with any faction.
Yet as administrator, he’d been saddled with this child.
‘The family head’s youngest grandson.’
Given the status, it was a headache he couldn’t deny.
Veil glared at the ashtray full of ash and butts, muttering to himself.
“What the hell are the elders thinking?”
“That child…”
Before the deputy could respond—
Knock, knock—.
A knock from outside the office drew Veil’s gaze.
“What is it?”
The door opened, revealing one of the senior instructors overseeing the Lion’s Den.
“We just got a report of a fight breaking out among the trainees. But…”
His face showed rare agitation, unlike usual.
“…?”
He glanced at Veil and the deputy, who tilted their heads, then continued.
“It’s…”
The report contained something none of the three had anticipated.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
─Dong, dong, dong, dong!
“That concludes today’s training!”
“Everyone, pick up your evening rations shortly after!”
At the instructor’s shout, the trainees scattered in all directions. Amid them, one boy shuffled along awkwardly.
His expression and gait screamed exhaustion at a glance.
The boy hurried to a well not far from the training grounds.
He’d spent the day rolling on the ground under the guise of building stamina.
The well would let him wash off the accumulated dirt and quench his thirst.
Sure enough.
Turning his head, he saw other children already gathered around the well, washing up.
There were more wells nearby, so the crowd wasn’t huge, but…
Still, over ten trainees at least.
Mid-drawing water with a splash—, the boy suddenly looked up.
For some reason, he stared at the sunset sky dyed brilliant red and murmured to himself.
“Nearly three weeks now, huh?”
His eyes and voice held none of a boy his age’s innocence.
“No matter how vivid the dream, it shouldn’t last this long—.”
Astonishingly, the boy was Kuhn.
Not just sharing a name, but the one who had lived his life in the shadows as Loberian’s hunting dog.
Only to meet his end through betrayal.
—The leader of the Black Foxes.
“Hoo.”
A quiet sigh escaped.
His comrades’ corpses strewn in the mud, the vassal lords surrounding him.
Loberian’s indifferent face, and his final moments unto death.
‘Memories of it all are still fresh.’
Yet closing and opening his eyes had changed everything.
‘I was so disoriented when I first woke in this boy’s body.’
Recalling that initial chaos, Kuhn composed himself after a short laugh.
‘Of all places, to awaken in the Lion’s Den.’
The Lion’s Den… was a talent-nurturing facility run by the Northern Overlord Jordic Family, rulers of the north.
As a northern family, it had little connection to the southern Dun Bringer continent.
Especially since Dun Bringer had been mired in civil war for over a decade.
‘But…’
Even so, Kuhn knew the Lion’s Den’s infamous reputation well.
‘They call it a talent-nurturing facility, but the training’s difficulty and brutality rival the devil himself.’
Even if exaggerated, rumors reaching the distant south meant it was no pushover.
Swoosh—.
Lowering his head, an unfamiliar face reflected on the water’s surface.
Age around fifteen, dust-matted reddish-brown hair, deep crimson eyes faintly tinged gold.
Framing it: a clean, handsome face unmarred by scars.
‘A guy with red around his eyes.’
If he grew properly, he’d turn plenty of heads.
Gazing at his reflection, Kuhn shrugged.
‘First, I need to do something about this frail, pale body.’
As he said—
His head was smaller than the other kids’, and his frame looked like it’d snap with a tap—like a reed or a rotting skeleton.
After staring at it a while, Kuhn muttered the new body’s name awkwardly.
“Ethan.”
A common name found among low nobles, farm kids, or street urchins.
But ‘Ethan’ was merely a fake name to hide the boy’s true identity.
Soon, Kuhn whispered his real one.
“…Kuhn.”
Astonishingly, the boy’s name matched his own exactly.
And even more shocking was the surname that followed.
‘—Kuhn, Kuhn Jordic.’
A bloodline evoking an iron lion’s ferocity.
They said those born into it had bodies honed like master-forged swords.
Recalling traits of that famous northern family, Kuhn lightly furrowed his brow.
‘…Kuh!’
—Throb!
His temple suddenly pulsed, and memories flooded his mind in response.
Memories that felt his yet not— all belonging to this boy, Kuhn Jordic.
And now, ones he had to adapt to.
As he tried sorting them—
“Hey, you. Skinny skeleton over there.”
A booming voice suddenly rang out behind him, shaking the well area.
Skinny skeleton.
Obviously calling him.