Chapter 3: Deciding on a Path
"This way." Ruben guided Karyl through the corridor. Portraits of the successive heads of the MacGoverns, a knightly family representing the empire, were aligned neatly on the wall. At the end, Karyl noticed a portrait of Kuwell hung beside an empty frame.
A lot had happened in this mansion, Karyl thought, reflecting on his past filled with numerous incidents and encounters in this seemingly peaceful mansion. He stopped and gazed at the empty frame, pondering the future.
I know who will occupy that empty portrait if things go like last time.’
There were important matters that could not be forgotten, events with the potential to alter the course of history.I wonder who will have their face on this wall in this life, Karyl thought, his mind teeming with possibilities.
Under usual circumstances, Martte, the eldest, would naturally inherit the family headship. But Father gave the position of the heir to all his children. In that case, will Martte be the head of the family in this life as well? That remains to be seen. I know how the future will play out.
Without a doubt, Karyl was aware of the event that definitively determined the head of the MacGovern family, so it was not impossible for his own portrait to be placed there. Yet, my goal extends beyond merely becoming a count.
With the Oracle War on the horizon and the emergence of monsters from Pharel, Karyl knew that the lavish lifestyle of the imperial nobles would soon turn to dust. In the tower that transcended time, Karyl had focused on only one goal: to excel in every aspect possible.
"It's over there," Ruben pointed out, snapping Karyl back to the present.
"Yeah," Karyl replied.
His attention was drawn to the familiar sound of swords clashing. He moved forward slowly, absorbed in thought.
*
In the training ground, all eyes immediately shifted to Karyl as the door opened.
“That guy...” one of the brothers whispered, recognition dawning on him.
"Karyl, you must be tired from your long journey. Why are you here instead of resting?" Martte asked, wiping his sweat. Despite his warm words, a cold atmosphere surrounded the training ground.
"Ah, yes, I was just... showing him around the mansion at the master's request," Ruben, quickly interjected, sensing the tension.
"Really? Then you are doing quite the poor job, showing him around unnecessary places he has no business being in. Take him back." commanded Martte, dismissing them.
Elliot could not conceal his displeasure at Karyl’s presence, a deep frown evident on his face.
"Don't mind them and continue," Martte commanded, and the sounds of clashing swords resumed.
After several minutes, Martte's sword eventually ceased its motion. He found himself unable to ignore Karyl’s intense gaze that he felt from behind.
"Do you know how to wield a sword? I've only heard rumors that the northern tribes kill with their bare hands and consume their victims," Martte asked, with a sting in his words despite his gentle tone.
"What do you think? Instead of merely watching, why not give it a try?" Martte suggested, a challenge in his eyes.
"Martte, please," one of the brothers interjected.
Karyl, maintaining his composure, could see the uncertainty in Martte's eyes. As I expected... Nothing has changed. Your stubborn pride won’t allow you to ignore my gaze.
"If you use all your strength," Karyl murmured softly, his words leaving the others speechless.
Crazy... What is he thinking, provoking his brother like this?
He seems eager to get into trouble on his first day?.
It's over for you.
Karyl observed the subtle dynamics among the brothers. Regardless of their brotherhood or talent, they were all adopted sons. It was indeed natural that they steered clear of any actions that might displease Martte, the eldest. This unspoken rule was a survival strategy for the adopted sons. On a brighter note, they could at least respect Martte, the biological son of Kuwell, for his exceptional abilities.
Oh no... I'm dead now. Why did the master assign me this task... Ruben thought to himself, inwardly cringing at Karyl's seemingly reckless behavior. It was a major incident right on the first day.
"All my strength... That's an interesting proposition," Martte responded.
Karyl slowly nodded his head.
"Are you telling me to use magic? Do you understand what that implies? Karyl, it seems you still cling to your extinct tribe's futile pride." Martte retorted, his voice laced with disdain.
Karyl chuckled lightly at his words. "Whether you like it or not, you'll have to live here from now on. As your brother, I'll teach you the laws of the empire. Elliot, give Karyl a sword."
Everyone was stunned by Martte's command.
"Are you serious, brother?" one of them asked incredulously.
Whoosh!
Flames erupted from Martte's sword, the Mana Blade in full display.
"Do you think this is a joke?" Martte growled, his face twisted with aggression.
The provocation was a success.
Karyl, unfazed, thought, You may talk a good game, but in the end, it's just a ploy to justify beating me. Martte MacGovern, no matter how you spin it, you’re just a petty, small-minded man who thrives on admiration.
Karyl had just arrived, so his position in the mansion was precarious. Like the other adopted sons, he could also slowly build his own influence while keeping an eye on Martte. So why take such a bold step?
What's he really planning? Tiren, known for his intelligence, looked at Karyl with a puzzled expression.
Karyl gripped his sword tightly as he reflected on his journey ascending the tower. Magic was a power exclusive to the people of the empire, and it represented a path to strength, a conclusion he had reached repeatedly.
I'll shatter that barrier in this life, he resolved himself. Magic was a power that he, as a barbarian, could have never possessed in his previous life.
The path I must take anew, Karyl thought as he slowly raised his sword. In this life, he was determined to master both swordsmanship and magic.
I will master magic, he affirmed to himself, but he knew that achieving proficiency in magic alone was not enough.
Karyl's lips slightly curled up, a hint of flickering in his eyes. Swordsmanship and magic. I will excel in both to reach the pinnacle.
This internal vow marked a turning point for him, a commitment to excel beyond his limitations from his past life.
The onlookers could hardly fathom that Karyl’s seemingly reckless provocation was the first step in his meticulously planned journey.
This guy...
Martte stood still for a while, with his sword in hand, frozen as if petrified. There was an intense tension between the two. The same was true for their audience.
Why? Why isn't he moving?
It's the first time I've seen my brother so cautious.
Could it be that this barbarian is that strong?
Elliot ground his teeth in frustration. "A guy who can't even use magic..."
Imperial citizens are born with magical powers, each capable of wielding one of the five major elements. Martte's Mana Blade, inherited from the MacGovern line, was infused with flames, just as Kuwell's. However, in contrast to Martte's sword, Karyl's was immaculately clean.
This was precisely the reason why the Emperor declared the extermination of heretics. The barbarians were branded as heretics because, unlike the imperial citizens, they lacked the magical blood vessels necessary for magic.
Everyone was convinced of Martte's inevitable victory. Yet, Martte's expression was rigid with concentration. He had only intended to teach Karyl a lesson, believing it necessary as the eldest to set an example. However, things didn't go as planned. Martte realized there was more to Karyl than he had anticipated.
He is...impeccable.