Chapter 3 …
Bwaaah!
Ikael’s kick landed precisely on a vital spot.
“Ugh!”
Isitor let out a choked sound, his eyes rolling back as if he were about to faint.
“Ugh… Ikael, how dare a lowly creature like you…!”
Ha. All mouth and no skill.
Even in this situation, he dares call me a “lowly creature.” Clearly, Isitor needed to be taught a serious lesson.
Thud.
Ikael paused his kick for a moment and looked down at him.
“You’ve never been hit properly, have you?”
“W-what…?”
I had plenty of experience being hit—by none other than you in my previous life.
Bwaaah!
Ikael swallowed his words and kicked Isitor again.
“Arrgh!”
Isitor rolled helplessly across the floor, struck relentlessly. The pain was excruciating, as if his own body were foreign to him.
Th-this can’t be. How could this lowly brat…!
Isitor was furious, but aside from taking blows, he could do nothing. It was unbelievable. How could Ikael, who used to tremble even at a glance, transform so suddenly?
“This is… a dream!”
Bwaaah!
No—the intense pain told him otherwise. This was no dream.
With eyes blazing like a beast, kicking relentlessly, Ikael was certainly real. A living nightmare, perhaps.
Isitor could barely bear it. He mustered every ounce of strength to rise, seemingly preparing for a final counterattack.
“Damn it! Ikael, you little—die!!”
Clang!
Finally, Isitor managed to draw his sword. But—
Pwah!
Something struck Isitor’s head with a strong impact. A decorative armor shield.
“You’re such a pain. I told you not to draw your sword.”
The moment Isitor drew his sword, Ikael decided there was no reason to hold back. He didn’t hesitate to draw his own weapon. Hadn’t he been warned not to draw it?
“Y-you lowly thing…!”
Exhausted, Isitor finally collapsed completely. His sword landed in a corner of the hall, and saliva dripped from his mouth. Total defeat.
With Isitor subdued, Ikael finally stopped kicking.
That should be enough of a lesson.
Ikael poked him once to make sure he wasn’t moving, then turned to leave. But something caught his eye.
That is…
In the dark corridor, a sword gleamed like a shard of light. It was the sword Isitor had dropped.
Ikael approached and picked it up as if entranced.
Swish-
The legendary sword revealed itself fully, shining in the moonlight.
Lecret’s sword, Crescen.
It was a crafted sword that could only be wielded by Lecret’s child. Curved like a crescent, it radiated authority just by being seen—a majestic weapon that didn’t suit Isitor at all.
Such curved swords were common in the desert. Though Isitor despised the desert, he valued efficiency in weapons, so this sword was modeled after desert craftsmanship.
“You little brat… give that back!”
At that moment, nearly unconscious, Isitor’s eyes snapped open.
Lecret’s sword was meant only for Lecret’s child. To have it taken away would be a massive humiliation.
Even from his near-unconscious state, one could tell how much Isitor treasured the sword.
“Ikael… that sword is not for scum like you! Don’t touch it with your filthy hands!”
Isitor stretched out his hand with all his strength toward the sword.
Seeing this, a mischievous thought crossed Ikael’s mind.
This is going to be interesting.
Ikael twirled the sword once and pointed it at Isitor.
Startled, Isitor flinched at the motion.
“Watch closely. This sword is mine now.”
“You little—!”
“Such a legendary sword is only fit for someone who can protect it, don’t you think?”
Isitor’s face turned bright red at those words.
“Take it if you can.”
“Grrr…”
Isitor couldn’t even respond. He knew instinctively that he could not take it back. Somehow, the weakling Ikael had transformed overnight into something else entirely.
“If you can’t take it, I’ll tell you how to submit.”
“What?”
Grin-
Ikael looked down at Isitor.
“Kneel before me and pay your respects as my subordinate. Before I cut off one of your knees.”
That was Ikael’s first “greeting.”
The next morning arrived.
“Ikael, young master! Are you still sleeping?”
A maid spoke gently to Ikael, buried under the blankets, as if soothing a child.
“I won’t wake you, so rest comfortably. Recovery comes first.”
The maid quietly left, careful not to disturb the fragile young master.
In fact, Ikael wasn’t sleeping.
I can’t miss this spectacle.
His eyes were fixed on the window.
The northern snow-capped mountains were beautiful, but Ikael wasn’t looking at the scenery.
Beyond the window, Isitor was causing chaos. Ikael’s gaze was fixed on him.
“Isitor, young master, what on earth are you doing?”
“Uaaah!”
Despite the servants’ calls, Isitor ignored them, stomping through the snow in the courtyard.
“Please calm down, young master!”
He was still furious from the previous night’s defeat at Ikael’s hands. Unable to defy Ikael or complain to anyone else, and having lost his beloved sword, it was no wonder he was venting his frustration.
Even if he stomps around, it’s only Isitor who loses out.
They were at the peak of the northern snow mountains.
Storms raged year-round, and even if one survived the cold, that was lucky. Indoors, magic controlled the temperature, but outside, it was midwinter.
Isitor’s hands and feet were already freezing from stomping in the snow. No matter how much the servants coaxed him, he could not calm down.
Their eyes met— Ikael and Isitor.
Grin-
Ikael waved mockingly, lying down with Lecret’s sword, Crescen, hidden under his pillow. There was no greater joy.
“Arrrgh!!”
“Isitor, young master! Young master!!”
The more he struggled, the more furious Isitor became.
At that moment, someone barged into the room. The hand opening the door was rough for someone dealing with Lecret’s young master.
“Ikael, young master, wake up. You need to take your medicine.”
Even the tone was curt. It was Roden, the tutor.
Ikael instinctively turned his head.
That’s strange.
No one in the Lecret household would treat Lecret’s family like this.
Moreover, Roden was supposed to be Ikael’s swordsmanship instructor, yet he came with medicine instead of a sword. It was suspicious.
Ikael calmly spoke:
“I don’t need medicine. Start the sword lesson immediately.”
Roden snorted.
“No, young master, you need to recover first. Today’s lesson will be skipped.”
Ikael raised an eyebrow.
In his previous life, tutors for Lecret never behaved like this. Teaching swordsmanship to young Lecret was an enormous honor; there was no way they would be careless.
But now… do they think I’m not even worth teaching?
This had to be corrected.
Then Roden said something to further provoke him:
“Take your medicine and rest. You are weak, after all.”
“…What?”
Ikael’s eyes narrowed.
Weak.
It was an infuriating remark. It was clearly not concern for Ikael; in the Lecret household, weaklings were treated with contempt.
Then Roden’s gaze fell on the sword, Crescen, hidden under the pillow.
Snap-
Roden grabbed Crescen audaciously and shouted:
“Ikael, young master! What do you think you’re doing! That is Isitor’s sword! You mustn’t touch it!”
He continued scolding:
“I’ve always said that the weak cannot wield a sword. I will return this to Isitor, young master.”
“You.”
Ikael’s voice was firm.
“Who said anyone could touch my sword?”
Roden’s eyes went wide.
What did he just say?
Lecret’s Sword
Lecret’s child receives a crafted sword at around age ten, known as Lecret’s Sword.
Even a nine-star knight would need permission to obtain such a sword from the volcano-forged master swordsman.
The smith revered Kairon deeply and would forge the sword in lava if Kairon requested.
Kairon gifted these legendary swords to his children, and they treasured them as if they were their lives.
But—
“How dare you touch Lecret’s sword?”
Ikael glared at tutor Roden.
“Ugh…”
Roden finally realized the situation. He had no right to touch Lecret’s sword without permission.
Touching it recklessly was akin to declaring war. Even in front of a sickly Ikael, it was a huge offense.
“My apologies.”
Roden bowed quickly. It was not just courtesy to Ikael, but to Lecret himself.
Ikael nodded once and took back his sword.
“From today, swordsmanship lessons will proceed.”
“But young master is weak…”
“What?”
“You need to rest for now, so lessons cannot happen yet.”
Roden persisted, but Ikael knew he had another agenda.
Perhaps… he’s trying to force me to take the medicine.
“Am I seriously ill? Why are they so insistent on medicine?”
“You must take it because your energy is low. Even without specific symptoms, it’s good for your body.”
“Is that so?”
Ikael called out to the hall:
“Isitor! Take this! It’s good for your health.”
Roden was shocked:
“What are you saying! This medicine is for young master Ikael only. If anyone else takes it, it could be dangerous…”
A slip of the tongue.
There was no one outside but Ikael; Isitor wasn’t even there.
Fooled him.
Ikael smiled.
“You’re out there, aren’t you!”
“Yes, young master!”
“Drag him in and throw him in the underground prison.”
“I-Ikael, young master!”
Roden was stunned by the sudden order. Armed guards had already grabbed Isitor’s arms.
“Let go of me!”
Swish-
Ikael drew Crescen and pressed it against Roden’s neck.
“You’d better behave. I could cut your neck immediately.”
Roden inhaled sharply.
Impossible…
He couldn’t believe it. The fragile young master Ikael suddenly acted like an entirely different person.
“Speak. Who is behind this?”
Roden swallowed hard.
Finally, he began to speak:
“Th-that is…”
