Chapter 14….
Ugh… it hurts.
Across from the training grounds, attached to the side of the mansion, stood a small chapel.
Dragging his battered body there, Eric sought out the priest. Although the healer’s skilled touch closed his wounds cleanly, a dull throb still lingered in his chest, and he let out a groan.
“To think I’d end up relying on this place again in just a few days. Lately, I haven’t had a single day when my body was in decent shape.”
First both his hands had melted away, and now he had been stabbed in the chest.
He wasn’t some beggar wandering the streets, yet the life of a duke’s legitimate heir was proving rougher than that.
If things were already this hard, how could he possibly defeat all those mighty Demon Lords and clear the game intact?
“Well, ‘legitimate heir’ doesn’t mean much. In this house, the way they treat an incompetent is no different from a beggar. No… maybe even worse.”
Even though he had won the duel, Eric let out a deep sigh, his expression bitter at his own wretched state.
Still, being incompetent wasn’t without its perks. Take the <Neurotoxin> he had used just now—it was something he could acquire only because he was powerless.
And since Ivan’s stats had been so much higher than his, the reward for victory had been especially generous.
[A Wondrous Victory!]
[You have defeated an opponent far stronger than yourself in a duel.]
[A reward is granted to the hero who has achieved this great feat.]
[All attributes have increased by +1 as a reward.]
<Eric Ater>
Level: -99
Strength [5]
Agility [5]
Stamina [5]
Magic [2]
Traits: <Indomitable>, <Neurotoxin>
Recalling the message that had popped up after his duel with Ivan, Eric smiled with satisfaction.
All of his stats—even magic—had gone up by one.
Of course, it was still below average human standards. But compared to when he had first woken up in this pitiful body, it was a remarkable improvement.
“Even after all that hell in the sewers, my magic didn’t rise. This… this is practically the same as leveling up!”
Had he just trained by beating on scarecrows, it would’ve taken him weeks to get this much growth.
The danger had been real, but the sweet reward made him almost wish for another chance like this.
“Not that I’ll slack off on training, though.”
After lying still on the cot for some time, waiting for the pain to subside, Eric finally rose and made his way toward the training grounds.
Sure, risking his life raised his stats faster than endless drills, but major events like this didn’t happen every day.
And training wasn’t just about raising stats.
It was to wipe away the shameful reputation this body had carried for years—
The disgrace of the family. The incompetent wastrel of House Ater.
That was why he trained.
“Besides, my chest is hurt, not my hands. Unlike last time, I can still grip a sword.”
Click—
Thud—
“Ugh!”
Just as he pushed the infirmary door open, he bumped straight into someone entering. The jolt made him wince.
“…Young Master. Where are you going?”
“Ah—Dame Leona.”
Eric broke into a cold sweat as he recognized Leona blocking the entrance, her sharp eyes fixed on him.
“Well, it’s nothing really. Just… I’ve been lying around too long and my body’s itching to move. I thought I’d head to the training grounds to stretch a bit—”
“Did you not hear what the priest just said? You are to remain at rest until fully recovered.”
At the word “training,” Leona’s voice immediately hardened with disapproval.
Only hours earlier, he had nearly been killed by a blade. And now he wanted to train?
“I’m fine. The wounds are healed now, so—ugh!”
When Eric tried to brush past her, Leona silently poked his chest with her fingertip. Pain shot through him, making him double over.
“I told you before: just because it looks healed outside doesn’t mean you’re fine inside.”
Priests’ healing wasn’t all-powerful. The external injury might have vanished, but internal damage always remained.
Even if he felt fine moving around, any strenuous motion could easily reopen the wound.
“Had the blade gone a little deeper, it would have pierced your heart. Do you even care how I felt, standing there, watching that happen?”
Her worried voice and sorrowful eyes left Eric no choice but to retreat back to his cot.
“…Fine. I’ll rest. I’ll rest.”
Thud—
“How could I have known my little brother would actually try to kill me?”
Seating himself again, Eric spoke curtly while watching Leona pull over a chair and unwrap fresh bandages.
Though he said that, deep down he had suspected it might happen.
Plenty in House Ater loathed this body. Even if Ivan hadn’t intended it himself, someone could easily have whispered encouragement behind the scenes.
Someone like the man who had once ordered Eric’s bodyguard to assassinate him.
“Not that I didn’t plan to use it.”
Looking at the blood soaking the old bandages, Eric recalled the instant Ivan’s sword pierced his chest.
To be honest, his heart had been stabbed. The sensation of the cold blade passing through it was still vivid.
“Thank the heavens for <Indomitable>. Without it, things would’ve gotten ugly.”
When he first challenged Ivan, he hadn’t expected it to come to that.
He thought he would have to roll on the ground, dodge desperately, and fight in a disgracefully pitiful way.
After all, the gap in their stats was overwhelming—far worse than when he faced the sewer boss, Morbus.
“Winning was important, but how I won mattered just as much.”
The duel had been about more than just survival—it was his chance to repair his reputation in the family.
He couldn’t afford to seem cowardly in front of the knights.
Besides, in this world, no one yet knew about “Giant Killing” or the ability to inherit monster traits.
If they learned he’d used <Neurotoxin>, they’d call it dishonorable.
“Well, I did win using it… but that’s nothing compared to deliberately trying to kill one’s opponent. Luckily, the timing made it look natural enough.”
Snap—
“Ow!”
Lost in thought, Eric was startled back by sharp pain as Leona tightened the fresh bandages.
When she finished, she looked at him with quiet pride.
“Still… you truly were magnificent today.”
Seeing her small but proud smile, Eric flashed a grin of his own.
“Told you I’d win.”
Ivan was just a talented brat. Sure, his talent already rivaled full-fledged knights, but…
For someone who had already cleared this game multiple times—a game others struggled to finish even once—this was child’s play.
He never would’ve challenged Ivan otherwise.
“But… how did you do it?”
“Hm?”
Leona peered at him curiously.
“That first strike. Honestly—”
“You think an incompetent shouldn’t have been able to block it?”
At the duel’s opening, Ivan had lunged with a ferocious blow. Even Leona herself would’ve struggled to block it cleanly. She nodded emphatically.
“When has anything about me ever been normal?” Eric said with a playful shrug.
“That’s…”
Flustered by his evasive reply, Leona stammered. Eric only chuckled.
“I just… saw it.”
“…Excuse me?”
He couldn’t very well explain the truth—that he remembered every move of the Ater family’s sword style from his countless playthroughs of Protect Humanity.
“Where the strike would land—it was clear as day.”
To anyone else, it sounded impossibly arrogant. Leona simply stared at him, stunned into silence.
Later that night.
Summoned by the Grand Duke, Eric followed his escort into the study.
“I heard there was… trouble during the duel.”
Austin spoke in a low voice, studying him.
“It was nothing unusual. Injuries happen in fierce duels all the time. I doubt Ivan intended it—he just got carried away.”
Eric’s reply was calm, dismissive.
He didn’t know why the man, who usually ignored him, suddenly cared. But there was no point blaming anyone. He had won, after all.
And pressing the issue would only damage Ivan, with no benefit to himself.
“If Ivan gets pushed out now, his supporters will just flock to Allen. Better to wait, build my own standing, then take it from them later. Besides, this way I look magnanimous—nearly killed, yet defending my brother.”
“An accident, then…”
Austin recalled what had happened earlier in the day.
“Father! You must expel that incompetent from the family at once!”
His youngest son had stormed in, both hands wrapped in bandages, demanding Eric’s exile.
“I’ve already heard what happened in the training grounds. You lost the duel, and now you want me to disown your brother?”
“I—I didn’t lose! If that bastard hadn’t cheated with poison—!”
“Enough. I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. Your wounds are severe—go and rest.”
There had been rumors among the knights that Eric had dishonored the sacred duel by using poison.
But a thorough investigation had revealed no proof.
On the contrary—most witnesses claimed Ivan had tried to kill Eric under the guise of a duel. If blame were to be assigned, it was Ivan who would bear it.
“…So you protect the incompetent again, Father?”
“Protect him?”
“Don’t deny it! When I fought Allen for the succession, you gave me no support. Yet for him, you even assigned Dame Leona—a knight strong enough to slay a Named beast single-handed—as his teacher!”
Whether Austin knew it or not, Ivan raged on.
He had never imagined the promising knight he’d tried to send to the front lines would instead slay hundreds of monsters and a Named—and then become Eric’s mentor.
“That useless fool… is it because he’s the legitimate heir? Because unlike Allen and me—the children of concubines—he’s the son of the woman you truly loved?”
“Ivan!”
“…Eric.”
Shaking off the memory, Austin addressed the son waiting patiently before him.
“You said you wished to learn the sword. Were you serious?”
Eric nodded firmly, without hesitation.
“Yes.”
It wasn’t just about continuing lessons.
To learn the sword as a blood heir of House Ater meant he was declaring himself a contender in the succession struggle.
“…Very well. You may go.”
After drumming his fingers on the desk in thought, Austin dismissed him.
“Yes. Have a peaceful night.”
The door creaked shut behind him.
“Even when his own son was nearly killed, he doesn’t spare a word of concern. Truly infuriating.”
Eric held back his displeasure and left.
As before, when he had nearly been assassinated by his own guard, Austin’s coldness made Eric question whether this man was really his father.
“The family’s legitimate heir…”
Alone in the study, Austin lifted his eyes to the portrait of his late wife.
“Selen… are you watching?”
Selen Draconis.
Daughter of the Emperor. She had spent most of her life in the comfort of the capital, yet had always carried herself with confidence and strength.
Delicate in health, but perfectly suited for the harsh north.
“It seems blood truly cannot be denied.”
Recalling how much Eric had resembled her just moments ago, a faint smile touched Austin’s lips.
