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A Mercenary’s Rebirth Among Nobles Chapter 3

Chapter 3

“Seeing‍‍‌ how angry you​ are, I understand⁠‌ how foolish I’ve⁠⁠‌ been. I’ll engrave​ your advice in‌‌​ my heart, so​‍​ I never forget‍⁠ it.”

“…Is‍⁠⁠ that all?”

“Yes.⁠ So now you⁠​​ may rejoice.”

“What?”‍​

At‍ Lucian’s unexpected words,‌ the grand duke‍‌ furrowed his brow.‌‍

Rejoice,⁠ all of a sudden?

“I’ve​⁠ heard that a father scolds and‍⁠‍ reprimands his son’s​ foolish actions because⁠‍​ there is love.⁠ Until now, I felt hurt because‌‍ you never once⁠⁠​ showed even a shred of anger⁠‍​ toward me, but​‍​ I see now​ that I was⁠⁠ wrong.”

“…”‍​‌

“So⁠‌ then, isn’t now​‍ the time to​‍ rejoice? I’m a son who returned‌‌ from the dead.‍ You got angry⁠​ at me—so don’t⁠ hold back anymore;​⁠ at the very‌ least, you could‌​ take my hand.⁠‍ We’re family, what⁠‍​ would be so​‍ wrong with even​⁠​ shedding a tear?”‌​

At⁠ such bold words,‍‌ the grand duke‌‍​ looked at Lucian‌⁠‍ in astonishment.

Even‌ the head butler‍​⁠ Edwin, who had‍ remained silent until‍‍⁠ now, opened his‌⁠ mouth wide.

Though⁠ Lucian had spoken‌‌ courteously, the real​​⁠ meaning was clear.​‍​

After​‍ leaving him abandoned‌​‌ for so long,‍ was a rebuke‌‍‌ the only thing‍ he had for‍‌⁠ his son, who‌ had barely returned‌‍ alive?

And⁠ at the same‍‌ time, if all⁠​⁠ he could do​‍ was rebuke him,‌ then he had⁠⁠‍ no right to​ call himself a father.

‘Please‌‌‌ let this work.’‍​

Lucian​⁠‍ kept his face‌ as calm as‍​ possible while swallowing⁠​‌ hard.

He‍‍⁠ had dared to‌⁠⁠ slap the grand⁠​⁠ duke—the feared head‍ of the family—with⁠ words.

With⁠⁠‌ any other noble,⁠‍ such remarks would‌⁠ have been enough‌ to send him‍‍ to a monastery‌‌‌ without hesitation.

But​ the Sigmund Valdeck‌​​ he knew would⁠⁠ react differently.

He‌ always said he‌​ preferred a wild‍ dog that bites‍‍‍ over a rat⁠​ that merely watches‌​ the wind.

“Haha.”‌‌

After⁠ twenty seconds that‍ felt like two​‍‌ hours of silence,‍⁠ what came from‍​ the grand duke’s⁠​‍ mouth wasn’t a roar, but a disbelieving laugh.

He⁠‌ seemed stunned—but more‍ than that, intrigued​ by how unexpected​⁠ it all was.‍

‘It‍ worked!’

Realizing​‌‍ his gamble had​ paid off, a sigh of relief​‌‌ escaped inside him.‌⁠⁠

The‍⁠‌ grand duke studied‍​‌ Lucian’s face from⁠ every angle and‍⁠ muttered.

“So​ you’re even capable​‌‍ of saying something​ like that.”

“People‍​‍ change. And if⁠‍​ someone comes back⁠‍ alive after standing‌ at death’s door​​‍ and doesn’t change,​ then he couldn’t‌​‍ be called human.”‍

“Then,⁠‌‍ are you also‍ planning to stop‍‍‍ hiding in your⁠‍⁠ room like a rat?”

“After⁠‌ over a year⁠⁠ of confinement, I’m​ sick of it.‍‌‍ I think it’s⁠‌ about time I let it go.​ More than that,​​​ right now…”

Lucian‌‍‍ paused and rolled‌​‌ up his sleeve.‍‌‍

The‍​ arm was so​‌‍ thin and fleshless,‍⁠‍ it looked no​⁠ different from that‍ of an invalid.⁠

“My​ first goal is‍‍‌ to regain weight.‌ With a body‍​ like this, I couldn’t even lift‍‍ a sword.”

“A​‍‍ sword? You, a sword?”

“I​‍ don’t know if‌ I’ll ever wield⁠‍ a sword in​​‍ my life, but‍‌⁠ someone who can’t‌ even take care‍ of his own‌ body—what else could​‌⁠ he do? A man should at​⁠​ least be able⁠ to protect himself.”‌‌⁠

“Ahem.”‌‍

The⁠ grand duke leaned​ slightly back and‍‌ cleared his throat.​‍​

The​​​ corners of his⁠​​ eyes raised in⁠⁠⁠ the slightest frown.⁠⁠⁠

At​ a glance, it⁠⁠⁠ seemed like a displeased expression, but​​ Lucian knew better.⁠‌‍

That​ was the face​‌‌ he made when‍‍‍ he was trying‌​ hard not to‍ smile.

“You‍ talk quite prettily.”⁠‍

“I’m‍ just speaking what​‌‌ I truly feel.”‍‌‍

“Whether‍​ it’s sincerity or⁠‌ mere bluster will‌ be revealed later.⁠⁠ Go.”

“Yes.”‌

Lucian​‍ bowed deeply and​ left the office.​

After⁠ walking a few​⁠ steps away, the‍ long-held sigh of⁠⁠‍ relief finally burst​ out.

‘More​ or less, I made it through.’‍​⁠

He‌‌​ had managed to‍⁠ change the pitiful‍‌⁠ image of the​‍ half-abandoned son.

Today,‌‌‌ he had shown‍ a different side,‌‍‌ so at least​​ the intent to‌‌ discard him must⁠ have subsided.

But⁠⁠ that was only⁠ a temporary fix.⁠

If‍​ he didn’t show​ long-term results, he’d​ just be seen⁠‍‍ as someone who‍‍​ talked a good​‍ game.

Before⁠​ that happened, he’d‌ have to present‌⁠ a convincing achievement​ to the grand‍‍‍ duke.

‘Well,​‌‍ it won’t be⁠ that hard.’

He‍⁠‌ had survived as‌​⁠ a mercenary in​⁠‍ a chaotic time​ full of death‍ and slaughter.

Earning‌‌ a few merits​ as a noble‌ young master was⁠⁠ nothing in comparison.​

Lucian​‍‍ returned to his‍ room, hiding a slight smile on‍⁠‌ his lips, thinking‌​‍ about how he⁠‌‍ would boldly declare‍​ his ambitions in‍​‍ this new life.⁠⁠​

***​

“Hmm…”‌

Grand​⁠ Duke Sigmund stroked​‌ his beard again​ and again in‍​ silence.

Even‌​ though it had‍‌ just happened, he‍‍​ still couldn’t fully‍⁠‍ believe it.

He​ never imagined that‍‍ that useless son​ would show up​​ so boldly.

“Did‌‌ you see that?”‌​

“What‍‍ do you mean?”‍​

“That⁠​ guy, looking me⁠⁠ straight in the‍​ eyes while he‍ talked.”

“Yes.‍‍ He didn’t hesitate​​​ even for a moment.”

Just‍‌ a year ago,‌ he was a boy whose eyes⁠​​ would dart around⁠ like he was​ swimming in them.⁠‍‌

He‌ couldn’t even hold⁠‍​ eye contact; he‍‌ would only mumble​ with resentment.

And‍⁠​ if anyone raised‌​ their voice, instead⁠‍ of responding, he‌‌ whimpered like a wounded stray dog.‍‍

A worthless brat, full⁠‍ of complaints, unable‌ to even defend‍‍​ his own stance.‍​⁠

And‌ now he said‍‍‌ he’d offer his​⁠ neck and declared⁠‍ his goals with​‍⁠ such firmness?

“I‍⁠ thought the only‌‌​ thing he inherited⁠ from his mother‍ was her face.”​

“The​ third young master⁠ is also Your⁠ Excellency’s son. That​ blood can’t just⁠​ vanish.”

“Don’t⁠‌‌ jump to conclusions.⁠ He might’ve just‌​‌ talked pretty.”

“Before,‍ he couldn’t even‌‍ do that. Something​‌⁠ in his heart‍‍‍ has certainly changed.”⁠‌

An⁠‌ uncontainable smile crept‌​ onto the grand​⁠ duke’s lips.

Even​​ if he had​‍‌ been half-abandoned, he‌ was still a Valdeck seed.

As‍ a father, how​‌ could he not⁠‍⁠ be glad to‌‍ see his son‍‌‌ grow?

Even‍​ more so, when​ it was the⁠‌‍ son of the‍​⁠ woman he had‍​⁠ once loved again.​

“Even⁠​ so, it’s too‌ soon to trust‌ him completely. There’s‌‍⁠ still a chance⁠ it’s all just‍‌ words.”

“Do‍‍​ you plan to‍​​ test him?”

“It’s‌​ not exactly a test. Just give⁠⁠‍ him a generous‍ allowance. The same‌‌​ one he received‌⁠⁠ before he locked​​ himself away.”

Since‌⁠ Lucian had fallen‍ from grace with‌ the grand duke,​ the family’s support⁠ had been practically‌​ cut off.

Excluding​​⁠ food expenses and⁠ servant wages, he​‌ hadn’t had a single coin for⁠⁠‍ personal use.

This‍​ meant resuming that‌​‍ support.

On‌‍‌ the surface, it​ looked like a reward, but to‍ Edwin’s eyes, it​ was one of‍ the hardest trials.⁠​‍

It‌ was like telling​ someone who was⁠‍⁠ just beginning to‌ step outside to‍‌‌ manage a large‍‍ sum of money.​​

If⁠​ he lost his‌⁠ head and spent‌⁠⁠ it recklessly, or​⁠‍ wasted it on‍​​ nonsense, even the‍​ last shred of‍ hope would vanish.​​‍

“Understood.‌ But there’s a small problem.”

“A‌ problem?”

“Part‌ of the funds⁠⁠ assigned to the‌‍⁠ third young master‌ are being diverted‌‍ elsewhere.”

The‍‍ grand duke’s eyebrows‍⁠ twitched.

That‌​⁠ wasn’t an order‍‌⁠ he had given.​

Which‌⁠‍ meant someone had‍​ been secretly embezzling‌⁠⁠ family money.

“Who​⁠‌ would dare?”

“It‍⁠‌ appears to be​‌‍ the work of‌ the second young‍ master.”

“What?‌‌​ The second?”

“For‌ him, that amount‌‍​ is mere pocket‌ change. It’s likely⁠ just harassment toward‌⁠‌ the third.”

“Harassment?​ More like pure‌ pettiness. That damned‍⁠​ inferiority complex of​ his.”

The‌ grand duke clicked​⁠ his tongue briefly‍‌ as he thought​‌​ about his second⁠‍ son.

He‍ wasn’t incapable, but‌ he had always‌ been narrow-minded—that was‌ his major flaw.‍

He⁠ knew there were‌​‍ bad feelings toward‌‍‌ the third due‍ to their maternal⁠⁠ sides, but he⁠​ didn’t imagine it‍​‌ would go this‍ far.

“Should‌‌ we take action?”⁠⁠‍

“Leave‍⁠‌ it.”

The‍‌⁠ grand duke shook⁠‌ his head as⁠⁠​ if there was⁠​ nothing to consider.⁠⁠

“This​‌ sort of petty‌ matter should be⁠‌ dealt with by​⁠ the third himself.⁠ If he can’t⁠‍ even handle that,​‍ then his depth‌‍ will be obvious.”‍‌​

“Isn’t‌​ that a bit​‌‍ harsh? He has‍ no faction, not⁠ even a single‍​‍ man he can‍ trust.”

“That’s‌‍ the consequence of⁠⁠⁠ his own actions.​ Who else can​ he blame? It’s‍ the price of⁠ living without ever⁠ coming to his‌⁠‌ senses.”

If⁠ he had properly⁠ managed those around​‍‍ him, they wouldn’t‌‌⁠ have even gotten⁠⁠‍ close enough to⁠⁠​ sink their fangs​ into him.

It‍​ was all the⁠‌ result of having⁠​ completely abandoned external⁠ affairs for a year—so he also​‍ had to deal⁠⁠‍ with the consequences​ on his own.⁠

“Perfect⁠⁠ timing. Let’s see⁠ how the third⁠‍ handles this.”

If‍ he couldn’t even⁠⁠‍ manage this and‌‌⁠ came back to‍⁠⁠ whine in front‌ of him, his​⁠ expectations would vanish‍​ completely.

But​ if—going beyond all​ expectation—he resolved it⁠​⁠ flawlessly…

‘Then‌ reinstating him as‍‌ a candidate for⁠ succession wouldn’t be​‌ impossible either.’

With‍ that thought concluded,‌​‍ Grand Duke Sigmund​ reached again for‌‌⁠ the stack of‍ documents he had⁠ set aside.

Just​ from having the⁠‌‍ third son on‌ his mind, he​⁠ was already wasting​⁠ too much time,‍‌‍ and he still‌ had a mountain​‌‍ of work to‍⁠ get through.

***⁠

After​⁠ returning so gallantly,‌‌​ Lucian ended up‌‍⁠ spending the entire⁠⁠ day bedridden.

He⁠ had moved his‌‌⁠ body after a long period of⁠‌ inactivity, with his‍‍​ stamina at rock​​ bottom—and on top⁠‌‌ of that, had⁠ faced the aura⁠​‍ of the grand‍⁠⁠ duke head-on.

‘This⁠⁠‌ really is an‌ absurdly weak body.’​‌​

With⁠‌‍ stamina like this,‍ what could he‌‌‍ even do moving‍ forward?

He‍⁠ had planned to​ do it anyway,​⁠⁠ but now physical⁠‌‍ strengthening had become​​⁠ urgent.

Fortunately,⁠⁠ the necessary support‌⁠‌ for preparations arrived‍‍‌ without delay the​ very next day.‌‍‍

“Y–⁠ Young master… what‌‍​ did you do⁠⁠ yesterday? Did you⁠⁠‌ use magic or​‌‍ something?”

“What‌⁠ are you going​ on about now?​ If I knew​ how to use‌‌ magic, do you⁠ think I’d be⁠ here groaning?”

“I‌ say that because​ His Excellency reinstated​ the support he’d‌⁠ cut off for​ a year, and⁠​‌ he did it⁠⁠‍ in just one⁠⁠‌ day.”

So​⁠ that was what‍‍‍ was happening—the grand‍‌ duke had started‍‍⁠ giving him his‍‍ allowance again.

And​ what was so⁠⁠ extraordinary about a noble young master‌‍​ receiving his money‍ again?

Lucian‍​‌ chuckled under his⁠‍ breath, but when‌‍ he took the‌ documents and saw‍​‌ the figure, his​‌‌ smile vanished immediately.⁠‌

“This‍ is the third‍‍ son’s allowance—not my​⁠ allowance?”

“Yes.”‍

“They⁠​‍ gave me a whole year’s worth‌ at once?”

“Not​ at all. That’s​ just one month’s​⁠‌ share.”

“I​⁠‍ used to get‍ this much?”

“This⁠​ much? The other⁠ young masters receive​⁠​ far more than‍ this.”

“This‍‌ is insane!”

He⁠⁠‍ was left speechless‍‌‍ by how absurd‍ it was.

He​​ knew that House​‍ Valdeck, being a grand duchy and​ the family of‌‌⁠ the emperor’s right-hand⁠​​ man, had to⁠​⁠ be rich.

But​‌⁠ to give this‍‍⁠ kind of amount‌⁠ as a mere​⁠ monthly allowance to⁠​ a third son?‌‌​

With⁠⁠‌ this money, he⁠⁠ could hire a massive mercenary company‌ for half a month—and still have⁠⁠ plenty left over.​⁠​

‘It’s⁠ not like having‌‌ a lot of⁠ money is bad…⁠‌ but it’s still‌​‌ depressing.’

So‌⁠‍ this was what⁠‌ it really meant‌⁠​ to be a great noble?

While‌⁠ feeling a mixture‍‌‌ of bitterness and​​ satisfaction over the⁠‍⁠ colossal sum—

‘Wait‍ this amount, couldn’t‍ I not only​ strengthen my body,​‍⁠ but even remake‌ my constitution?’

Suddenly,​‍ his eyes flew⁠ wide open.

An‍‌​ innate constitution can’t‍ be changed at⁠​ the root.

That’s​ why, those with‌​‌ true talent are‍​ even born with⁠ a body that​ suits it.

It’s‍‌ an old theory‌ from a thousand⁠⁠ years ago, but‌ even now it’s‍ considered a solid⁠‌ truth—constitution is everything​ for a warrior.‍‍

However,​ that theory would‍‌ be completely overturned‍ six years later.⁠

‘When‍‍​ the Alchemist Guild​ developed Nectar.’

Nectar—the‌ drink of the‌‌ gods.

Because⁠ of such a grandiose name, it‍⁠ was initially met‍‍ with criticism for‍ its pretentiousness.

But⁠‌ once its effects‌⁠ became known, all​​‌ the complaints and‌ ridicule vanished.

Because‍ the effects of‍⁠⁠ Nectar were just⁠⁠ as extraordinary as‌ its name.

An‌​ elixir capable of​ turning even the‌‍‍ most talentless person​‌ into someone with‌ potential.

If⁠​‌ a medicine like⁠‍ that wasn’t called⁠ Nectar, then what‍ should it be‍ called?

With‌​ the invention of​ Nectar, the Alchemist‌‌‍ Guild, which had‍ been in decline,‍ shot straight to⁠ the center of‍‌​ the Empire.

Their‍‌ power became so‍​ great that even⁠​ the emperor had​ to tread carefully,‍⁠‍ using Nectar reserve‌⁠‍ quotas as a political weapon.

Truly‍‍ absolute power.

‘Even​‍⁠ if it only⁠​ lasted three springtimes.’‌

It​⁠ wasn’t long before‌ the chaos era⁠ began—and the Alchemist‌⁠ Guild paid the‌ price for its‌​ arrogance.

In‌‌ a world ruled⁠​ by power versus​​ power, the guild⁠‌‍ was destroyed, the‌‌ alchemists slaughtered, and⁠⁠‌ most of the‌‍‍ Nectar production process‌⁠ was lost.

All​ that remained were⁠​​ incomplete fragments of⁠ the formula, missing⁠⁠⁠ crucial points.

Most⁠‍⁠ people considered those⁠​‍ fragments useless and⁠‍​ discarded them.

After⁠‍‍ all, once a medicine is mixed⁠ improperly, it becomes​ poison.

Trying​​‌ to recreate an‌‌ elixir based on⁠‍‌ an incomplete recipe​ was sheer folly.⁠‌‍

But,‍ as always, some⁠ people died chasing‍‍ those foolish dreams—and​ a few lucky‌⁠‍ ones managed to​⁠ recreate Nectar, even‍ if imperfectly.

And⁠​ Lucian, in his⁠​‌ past life, had⁠‍​ belonged to that​ second group.

“Hans,​​ get ready. We’re​‍‌ going out.”

“But‍ you’re not fully​ recovered yet! Where​‍‌ are we going?”‍‍‌

“To‍⁠⁠ the herb shop.”​‍

“What?‌‍‌ The herb shop?”‍‌

Hans‌⁠ stared at Lucian⁠‍ with a dumbfounded‍‍ expression.

A noble young master⁠ going to a humble herb shop?‍​​ For what?

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