Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Beric, at seventeen, was a bit of an odd child. Resembling his red hair, his temperament was fiery, and his training peers didnt much care for him. It had been like this since he first joined.

When the military training chief instigated a fight, vowing to subdue him, Beric fought back without surrendering until his arms and legs were on the brink of breaking. Ultimately, he finished with unconsciousness.

A kid who wont win, but refuses to lose.

Thats how all the trainees referred to him behind his back.

Rest.

Sigh.

Move to the shade.

In the training ground where the hot sun was blazing, everyone staggered at the instructors order to rest. Meanwhile, no one bothered to help Beric up.

As if he didnt expect any help, Beric just closed his eyes and caught his breath. In a bit, hed move by himself.

Beric?

Beric squinted at the unfamiliar voice calling his name. The golden-haired figure before him was vividly bright, but that was it. His vision was blurry, he couldnt see properly.

Can you stand?

Who are you?

Ian.

Get lost.

He knew that the Count Bratz had a bastard son. But he didnt realize that this kid standing before him was the one.

Beric didnt care. Having lived in the barracks for almost six months, he didnt even know the names of his roommates. There was no way hed know a kid who had just moved into the mansion a month ago and lived like a hermit.

What an unpleasant personality.

On the other hand, Ian looked down at him thoughtfully. No matter how he looked, the child fits the characteristics of a magic swordsman.

It might be prejudice, but somehow, all the magic swordsmen he had seen had that kind of attitude. Always itching to lash out at something or someone, as if they couldnt rest until theyve cut something apart.

Such a rude attitude.

Ahh

Ian scolded him while pouring water on his face. Beric merely opened his mouth, eyes still closed, perhaps because it felt refreshing.

Ian glanced back. From the shade, Chel and Deo, the trainees, watched him with curious looks. They seemed puzzled, unable to guess what the bastard son himself was trying to do.

Should I give it a test?

Ignoring them, Ian squatted down. Pretending to feed him water, he grabbed Berics chin. His magic power flowed from his touching fingertips.

Berics face, which had been scrunched up, gradually relaxed. How should he put it? It felt like the block of pain that was filling his body was slowly melting.

Just a little more, just a little more

Perhaps thinking it was the relief brought by water, he seemed ready to lick up even what had been spilled on the ground. Ian scattered what was left and got up.

Its done.

Ordinary people cannot accept pure magic. This is due to the difference in the density of the vessel that contains the power. Magic users have a solid vessel that doesnt leak magic, but ordinary people cant hold it, like a vessel full of holes.

That was the reason healing and illusion magic were highly valued. Any attack magic can simply pour out all at once, breaking the vessel, no matter who the target is. But transforming magic into a form that the target can accept, as in healing or illusion, is a high-level skill.

Anyway, what about Beric?

Not only did he accept the magic carefully, but his reaction was also immediate. Despite being a very faint power, he reacted as desperately as a newborn seeking its mothers breast.

He has potential.

It was an unexpected harvest. Ian never thought there would be a sprout of a magic swordsman in such a place.

Ian desperately turned his words around. Although he had already coaxed Chel and received Derghas permission through him, he needed to wrap it up surely.

Dergha stroked his beard and nodded his head. Do not dare to use the training as an excuse to hurt Chel. If you do, Deo will cut your throat on the spot.

To nonchalantly utter such terrifying words to a child. Ian nodded his head and bowed. He did not forget to say thank you.

By the way, when are you meeting Molrin again?

The day after tomorrow.

He would go out to meet them again the day after tomorrow.

At Ians words, Dergha frowned as if thinking something. Probably due to the countesss opposition, Chel wouldnt be able to accompany him then.

I understand.

With a wave of his hand, Dergha urged him to leave. Even as he turned to go, Ian didnt forget to scrutinize the desk.

There must be something related to taxes among that

Click.

Standing in the dark corridor, Ian thought of Molrin. What exactly was the value they saw in him?

He didnt know in detail, but it seemed clear they were trying to oust Dergha. Casually, even considering putting Ian forward in place of Chel.

In that case, the tax issue is the biggest one. They mustve been suspicious of Derghas tax evasion as well.

However, it was dangerous too, evading taxes against the imperial palace was one of the most serious crimes. If unlucky, the charge of treason could be applied, and everyone bearing the Bratz family name could be executed.

If Ian doesnt intervene he might receive the punishment of falling into slavery.

Whatever the case, its dangerous.

If the Bratz name disappears, the family line disappears, and so does Ians existence and value. This means that his future survival is in jeopardy.

A tightrope walk with his life on the line.

Dergha was trying to sell Ian off to the desert, and Molrin was trying to eliminate Bratz as a whole. He should stay alert in the middle of them.

However, it looks like theyve planted eyes and ears in the mansion. Especially, they seemed to be quite sure about the letters.

Master Ian?

A servant called him, holding a lantern. It was a call to return to his room. Ian followed the servant, crossing the hallway. Due to being the highest part of the mansion, the flickering lights of the training grounds could still be seen from the window.

Theyre working hard late into the night.

At Ians warm murmur, the servant walking ahead quietly laughed. Hadnt Ian been the one who was stuck in Derghas office all day, suffering the most? To the boy who was served clean food in the dining room every day, the servant felt a subtle sense of familiarity.

Weve prepared a change of clothes in your room.

Alright. Thank you.

Have a peaceful night, Master Ian.

Meanwhile, in the training grounds, men with heated bodies were still swinging their swords and spears, and the most conspicuous among them was the redhead, Beric.

What the hell did that bastard eat today?

Seriously, hes full of energy.

He looked like he was dying during the day.

Beric, whose energy used to wane like a candle going out at sunset, was still swinging his sword even after everyone else had returned to their quarters. It was inexplicable.

Swoosh!

Whack!

With all his might, Beric sliced off the dummys neck. For the first time, he felt the sword move according to his will. His ragged breaths were soaked in joy and pleasure.

Haha this is it, damn it.

What could it be? Was it the result of his training finally showing? Or because he had been down all day? He didnt know why the image of a blond boy under the sun popped up, but Beric once again gripped his sword.