Revenge pact

The world-altering event left no one untouched, regardless of their social status, occupation, or wealth.

Count Rupert and Sir Jasper curtailed their conversation, prompted by the lateness of the hour.

The once-cold and distant Count had undergone a noticeable transformation; his demeanor, now warmer and less agitated, conveyed a newfound sense of contentment.

Just as Sir Jasper prepared to exit, the door swung open ahead of him, preempting his movement.

"Quin," Jasper acknowledged the battered man's presence, though he walked past without acknowledging the wounds that marked Quin's body.

A wince flickered across Quin's expression at the omission of honorifics, a departure from the norm.

Surprisingly, he refrained from his typical complaints or protests, for reasons not entirely evident.

With a pronounced limp, the Novice knight entered the room, fixing his father with a gaze imbued with both fury and tears.

"Brother!" Quintina's voice rang out in a mix of concern and alarm, propelling her forward as she hastened to his side.

She made an attempt to assist him onto the couch, only to be brusquely rebuffed by her older sibling.

He remained standing, his glare directed at her.

"Leave me alone!"

Despite his forceful dismissal, her expression of worry persisted, prompting her to reach out toward his bandaged and bloodied leg.

"Brother, what happened?"

"Don't act like you care, Quintina!" His hand swiped her touch away, his features contorting with anger until his face flushed crimson. The intensity of his fury now seemed even greater than when he faced Adonis in combat.

"Elder brother, what're you saying?" The girl backed away with glassy eyes and her rosy cheeks becoming brighter.

"Don't touch me, you psycho!"

"Brother, why are you being so mean!" Tears streamed down the girl's cheeks, her sobs punctuating the tense atmosphere as Quin regarded her with a stern, furrowed brow.

"Quintina. When are you going to grow up and stop teasing him?" Count Rupert said as he looked at his crying daughter.

"Hee-hee! It's gotten boring anyway. " With her tiny hands, she brushed away her tears, her demeanour transforming into an innocent, tinkling giggle.

"What happened to my wonderful elder brother... He doesn't care about me anymore!" She exaggeratedly exclaimed.

"That's because you're a lunatic!" Quin screamed.

What could she have done in the past that'd make her very presence agitate him?

"C'mon, that's just not nice, Quinny."

Her laughter persisted in a joyful cadence as she retrieved her book and settled onto the couch.

Completely engrossed in her own world, she displayed little interest in her brother, much like a child with a short attention span.

Indeed, she was just that—a mere 11-year-old.

"What do you want Quin? All your wedding preparations have been finalized, what more could you want from me?" Rupert's tone was cold, dismissive and lacked any affection unlike when he spoke to Quintina.

He momentarily hesitated before responding, his father's altered attitude toward him no longer causing distress, yet the impact of his words still resonated within him.

The Knight commenced his explanation, recounting the events at the bar while skillfully omitting details that might shift the blame onto him—such as his role in instigating the incident.

Aware of his son's tendencies, Count Rupert remained astute, cognizant of the strategic omissions.

However, a singular truth couldn't be overlooked: a member of his own family had been subjected to public humiliation, a situation that compelled him to take action.

Taking a deep inhalation, Count Rupert locked his gaze on his son, the lines of his face etched with contemplation. His prior buoyant mood had been deflated by the news of his son's defeat, and this newfound irritation was palpable.

He exhaled audibly, fixing his son with an unwavering stare that sent shivers rippling through Quin's entire frame.

"So what is this commoner's name?" He asked coldly.

"I think the bartender called him Adonis, father," Quin said, struggling to remember the words of the bartender.

"His last name?"

"I-I'm not sure Father" He looked at the floor ashamed and feeling even more embarrassed.

The Count didn't even bother to insult his son's ignorance as he had simply grown tired of dealing with him.

"Then I'm sure you can give me a physical description of the man?" For the thirtieth time, the count sighed and simply gazed at his son.

"W-well, he has short unkept purple hair, pale skin, and silver eyes. You can't miss him."

"Silver eyes?" The Count raised his eyebrows upon hearing the last of his son's description.

"Yes, Father. He looks pretty peculiar."

"Hmm...Then how old is this man, if you were to estimate."

Quin suddenly went silent and broke out into a cold sweat.

"Slightly younger than Quintina." The young man said inaudibly.

"What?"

"Slightly younger than Quintina." He whispered.

"Speak up, Quin. I don't have time for this!"

"Slightly younger than Quintina. Father." He said flatly as he continued to look down.

Hearing the words of her incompetent elder brother, Quintina raised her eyebrow.

The countenance adorning Count Rupert's visage defied simple description. It bore an air of bewilderment, unmistakably reflecting his assumption that his son was engaged in some manner of practical joke.

"Father?"

"Get out." With a mere gesture, Count Rupert indicated his desire for his son to depart. He had reached his limit with the recounting of this preposterous tale.

It was evident that his son harboured no intention of revealing the actual circumstances behind his injuries, and, simply put, the Count held no interest in delving further, so long as his house remained unharmed.

"Father, I'm serious. This kid i-" The boy looked up at his father for the first time since he entered his study, his eyes full of fear.

"Quin, stop wasting my time." The Count shooed his son away dismissively and went to sit in his large leather office chair.

***

The next afternoon in the same large study, Quintina laid down lazily on the large leather couch with her feet on the armrest. The young girl had her hands on her stomach as she stared at the distant white ceiling.

The Count sat in his chair signing off on a few documents using a quilt dipped in ink, he was humming to himself peacefully while he finished up the last of the paperwork for the day.

The atmosphere in the whole Rupert House had improved since they received the news of the Emperor's increase in power.

Quintina's curiosity finally got the best of her so she decided to call out to her father.

"Father?" She called out in an innocent sweet tone.

"No, Quintina." The man said flatly without even bothering to look up from the document he was writing. He knew his daughter too well and knew exactly what she was going to bring up.

"But father, think about it. The chance might be small but it IS possible."Staring at her father, Quintina's eyes gleamed curiously.

"Quintina, your brother may be useless; but he is still a Novice Knight. If a child younger than you managed to beat him, that'd make that child PTC-worthy and an international treasure ."

Hearing the words escape her father's lips, the girl couldn't help but giggle.

"I know right, so exciting! But father, Scipio Mars was able to beat a tier 10 magic knight at age 10. The feat brother just described is less impressive, so it's certainly possible."

The man sighed as he lifted his eyes to meet his daughter's, but unlike when he looked at her elder brother his eyes weren't cold at all but rather patient and affectionate.

"Sure the chances aren't zero but once we consider all the factors at hand, it becomes extremely unimaginable. Firstly if such a prodigy existed everyone across the Empire would know, it becomes even more doubting when we consider the fact that this prodigy lives in this city. Surely WE at least would know."

"Secondly, talent needs to be nurtured correctly. One can be a prodigy but if they don't receive the correct training, they'll never thrive. Our kingdom isn't one known for its development of strong magic knights, so the teachers capable of honing a prodigy are few and would cost a fortune only a noble family could afford."

"Thirdly, Quin said the boy was a commoner. That reason alone is enough to dismiss his claim."

Quintina listened carefully as her father spoke, but instead of becoming discouraged, her eyes lit up even brighter.

"So if there was a commoner prodigy and he became that strong despite all those circumstances...That'd mean he's a monster, right?" She whispered.

"I'm sure we'll meet one day, Silver-eyed Adonis."

Extra Information:

The average magic knight reaches tier 10 at age 15, prodigies would be at age 13.

The minimum requirement to be a magic knight captain is Tier 5 Low-level

Magic knights reach their prime around age 40-50, and their strength begins to decline at age 70.

The gap between magic knight tiers isn't consistent eg. It's easier to advance from Tier 10 to 9 than Tier 8 to 7.