Chapter 37

“Sorry to bother you.”

“Don’t worry. It’s Felicia’s etiquette class hour anyway, so I had nothing else to do.”

Although the Swordmaster had recently accepted a disciple, that didn’t mean he couldn’t teach others.

No matter how talented a disciple was, they were still human and couldn’t train twenty-four hours a day.

On top of that, Felicia also had to learn noble etiquette, so it was even more impossible.

“I’ve got free time right now, so being able to help the young master is an honor. If you truly needed me, I’d even squeeze nonexistent time to come.”

It wasn’t sarcasm, but a tone full of sincere gratitude.

Ever since Lucian had introduced him to Felicia, Eisen felt a deep debt toward him.

Sometimes it even seemed like he was more grateful to Lucian than he would be to someone who saved his life.

“I appreciate you saying that. By the way, how is Felicia lately?”

“Her enthusiasm for learning etiquette is no less than when she practices swordsmanship. Though the motivation seems different—and that’s a little unfortunate.”

When mentioning Felicia’s situation, Eisen spoke with a bitter smile.

Unlike swordsmanship, which she enjoyed purely, her passion for etiquette seemed more like accumulated resentment from her years as an illegitimate daughter.

“It’s inevitable. Just seeing how she cared for her older brother shows what kind of treatment she received at home. The invisible wounds must run pretty deep.”

“Don’t worry about that part. I intend to make those who ignored the value of that jewel shed tears of blood with my own hands. When Felicia sees that with her own eyes, maybe her resentment will ease a little.”

“Haha. Those are promising words.”

At Lucian’s statement, Eisen stroked his beard and smiled coldly.

A marquis who, instead of nurturing a talent destined for the history books, tried to bury it in the shadows.

Beyond being a master or a father, as a swordsman, he wanted to strike back if he had the chance.

“Well, I’ve gone on long enough. Let’s see the sword now. Show me the Lionheart Sword I taught you last time.”

“Yes.”

Lucian performed all the stances of the Lionheart Sword he had recently learned.

In truth, it was still time to focus on fundamentals, but Eisen decided to overlook that point.

Lucian’s foundation was so solid that even without correction, he constantly refined it himself.

If half the power of a technique came from its fundamentals, it could be said he had already completed half the training.

The problem was the other half.

“That’s everything.”

“Hmm.”

When the Lionheart Sword demonstration ended, a faint murmur escaped Eisen’s lips.

After thinking for a long moment, he looked seriously at Lucian and spoke.

“From my point of view, young master’s body has been blessed by the heavens. Your energy is pure, and the destructive force it releases is extraordinary. Your fundamentals are flawless, and your ability to read your opponent is outstanding.”

“Uh… thank you?”

“Also, the Lionheart Sword suits your nature very well. It’s a technique focused on destructive force. It’s not inferior to other styles, but sometimes it’s best to focus on what one excels at.”

At the sudden praise, Lucian tilted his head.

He wondered where this long speech was going.

After continuing with his analysis and explanation, Eisen smiled slightly and pointed to the path Lucian should take.

“That’s why, in my opinion, it would be better for the young master to focus more on instant destruction than on refined technique—making the most of your body’s exceptional advantages. Just that alone would send most knights flying like autumn leaves.”

“…Sir Eisen, if it’s not just my imagination, it sounds like you’re telling me that since my technique is mediocre compared to my strength, I should just go all-in with raw power.”

“Haha.”

“Don’t laugh like that, I’m serious.”

“Hehaha.”

Eisen only laughed and changed the subject, but he never denied it.

Shortly after, with a genuine smile, he added.

“Even so, what I said came from the heart. Most knights wouldn’t be able to stand against you with just that. And above all, there’s no single path to reaching the highest level. There must also be a path to becoming a Swordmaster through destruction instead of technique.”

“A Swordmaster with a powerful sword but no technique. Doesn’t sound very elegant.”

“There’s no need to see it only negatively. If the young master, with that body, reaches the peak of the sword…”

“If I reach it?”

“You might even be able to fell a legendary dragon with a single strike.”

At such an exaggerated statement, Lucian flinched and looked at Eisen.

He thought he’d laugh again and brush it off, but his expression was completely calm.

As if—whether Lucian believed him or not—he had simply stated the truth.

***

Lucian decided to follow the Swordmaster’s advice.

Leaving aside the matter of dragons, it was undeniable that this was the most appropriate direction.

“If you don’t have natural talent for technique, mastering it takes an eternity. It’s much better to focus on strength.”

And in fact, the increase in the destructive power of his swordsmanship was no small matter.

Having more strength also meant greater speed, making it even harder for the enemy to block.

If even an obvious attack trajectory couldn’t be stopped, wasn’t that essentially a lethal blow?

“In my past life, I nearly died several times to attacks like that.”

Precisely because those attacks were so simple, the Lucian of that time didn’t even have a way to respond.

At the very least, some strength and speed were needed to do anything.

This time, he didn’t mind being the one who inflicted that feeling on his opponents.

With this blessed body, it wasn’t difficult at all.

Two months passed like that.

“Fuuu…”

After completing the circulation, Lucian exhaled deeply and looked around.

Empty medicine bottles and remnants of ingredients used to make the degraded nectar.

Everything else was still plentiful, but the most important—moonlight herb—had been completely depleted.

“Tsk… they say they can’t get any more, and I can’t exactly demand it from them.”

No matter how much he pressured the herbalists, all he got were lamentations saying it was no longer possible.

The price was high compared to the difficulty of obtaining it, and there were few buyers, so when stocked, it usually lasted a while.

But now that the reserves of nearby territories were exhausted, getting more wasn’t easy.

“If I had the complete nectar recipe, I wouldn’t have to compensate with quantity like this.”

Lucian felt a renewed sense of regret.

The potion he was taking now wasn’t bad, but compared to the original, it was very diluted.

If he used it all to strengthen his own body, there would be none left.

‘It’s a pity. If possible, I’d like the leftover to be taken by the others too, but there just isn’t enough…’

“Young master.”

Hans’s voice pulled Lucian from his thoughts.

After hurriedly putting on his clothes, he pushed the bottles and materials into a corner and stepped outside.

“What is it?”

“T-the grand duke is calling for you. He says it’s an important matter and that he’s convening a family meeting.”

“A family meeting? Does that mean all the wives will attend too?”

“Most likely.”

Lucian’s expression turned serious.

Unlike before, when it was disguised as a breakfast, this time it was openly called a family meeting.

That could only mean it was something of great importance to Grand Duke Sigmund and the Valdeck family.

Something that could involve all members of the clan.

“Could it be…?”

A thought crossed Lucian’s mind.

The nearest historical turning point—and the event he had been preparing for.

There was still time before it happened, but if the high nobles had started moving in preparation, the timing fit perfectly.

“Get ready right away. Let’s go.”

After quickly getting ready, Lucian headed to the lord’s mansion.

For the first time since learning the Lionheart Sword, his heart was pounding.

If his guess was correct, getting involved—or not—in this event would be the deciding point that shaped the future.

***

Lucian wasn’t the only one who reacted to the words “family meeting.” The others arrived at the mansion almost at the same time.

The three brothers and their respective mothers, the three wives.

And Lucian—the only one whose biological mother had already passed away.

Seven gazes crossed in the air at the same time, and a peculiar tension settled over the place.

“Now that everyone is here, sit down. Ladies, take your seats.”

Fortunately, before the tension could build, the grand duke’s appearance dissipated it.

At Sigmund’s deep voice, the family members sat in silence. Thinking it would be pointless to drag things out, the grand duke got straight to the point.

“A rebellion has broken out in Krephelt.”

“What? Don’t tell me…?”

“Yes, that same Krephelt with the greatest power in the East. It’s also the vassal state with the most formidable military force.”

When his suspicion was confirmed, Lucian unconsciously clenched his fist.

The Krephelt Rebellion.

Though it didn’t yet mark the beginning of chaos, it was the sign heralding its arrival.

The event that most contributed to the Empire’s downfall had finally begun.

“To be precise, war hasn’t broken out yet. But it will soon. They’ve rejected the imperial tax collection and issued a conscription order.”

“That’s practically a declaration of war. If it’s Krephelt, it seems hard for the Empire to suppress it alone. Father, are you going to intervene?”

Jordi asked the question as if it were a given.

When a rebellion reached national scale, it was normal to form a coalition of feudal lords.

And to command it, someone with authority equal to or close to the emperor was needed.

If it wasn’t a personal campaign by the emperor, there was no better candidate than Grand Duke Sigmund.

“No. It won’t be me.”

However, the grand duke shook his head and named someone completely unexpected.

“The one who will command the suppression of the rebellion is His Highness, the First Prince.”

“What!?”

Not just the brothers, but the wives too, opened their eyes wide in shock.

The First Prince certainly had authority, but he had almost no battlefield experience.

And yet he was being placed in command of a rebellion of such magnitude?

“T-then… will Father support His Highness as an aide?”

“Neither. His Majesty wishes that one of you go.”

A heavy silence fell over the room. In place of the emperor—the First Prince. In place of the grand duke—one of his sons.

It was too blatant a political maneuver.

“So he wants to reinforce the First Prince’s authority and, in the process, bind us to him.”

“Damn it, isn’t that too much? Why us and not Father?”

The emperor’s intention was clear.

The grand duke was loyal—but his sons could go in any direction.

Taking advantage of this occasion, he planned to tie them to the First Prince by force.

Once connected, the world would see them as his faction—whether they liked it or not.

The problem was, none of the grand duke’s sons wanted that.

“It’s well known even in high society that the First Prince isn’t fit for the throne. If we’re tied to him now, it’ll be a burden forever.”

“Maybe I’d gain the emperor’s favor, but what matters to me now is the position of the next head of the family, not imperial favor.”

“If he asks for my support when I’m the next head, then I’ll consider it. Why would I bow now?”

Faced with the three brothers’ reactions, the grand duke sighed as if he’d expected it.

“Just in case, I’ll ask. Is there anyone willing to volunteer?”

“Is it really necessary to ask for volunteers? It seems we already have a suitable candidate.”

Just as the question ended, one of the wives—who had remained silent—spoke up. It was Veronica, the beautiful red-haired southern woman and Tristan’s mother.

Facing the grand duke’s questioning look, Veronica spoke while looking at Lucian.

“Send the third son.”