Chapter 2 …
It had been several days since I awakened as Icael.
Yet one question still lingered in my mind.
“Why did Kyrun abandon me?”
Why did he discard me, his knight who had blindly sworn loyalty, who had climbed all the way to become a 7-star knight?
I couldn’t stop thinking that there must have been some hidden reason.
But now that I had returned to the past, there was no one who could give me that answer.
Not even Kyrun himself.
While I was lost in thought, a doctor entered and began his examination.
“Icael young master, are you feeling well?”
I sat up in bed, nodding blankly, trying my best to appear like Icael.
“Of all people, I had to become Icael—the one among the seven sons of the Lekrit family about whom the least is known.”
A frail boy who hid in the shadows of window frames, who lived quietly until one day he was said to have died of illness. Insignificant, pitiful, almost invisible. That was Icael.
Now I had to live as him.
Still, there was one hopeful thing.
“I am by Kyrun’s side.”
A position where I could aim for Kyrun’s throat.
The place I had clawed my way to in my previous life—this time, it was handed to me from the start.
Icael Fue Lekrit. In other words, Kyrun’s youngest son.
That was my new name.
Night fell.
I slipped out of bed and walked down the dim corridors.
“Finally, I feel alive again.”
Lekrit’s stronghold, the Bronze Castle, looked under the shroud of night as if it were the open maw of a demon lord.
Imposing in the day, it became outright terrifying at night.
But for me, who had spent so many years in the Bronze Castle, it was simply a familiar sight.
“My body aches all over.”
How on earth had Icael lived?
Everyone treated him as if he were some fragile glass ornament.
“And yet, isn’t he still a child of the great sword family, Lekrit?”
The world was filled with prestigious families. Some rose briefly then faded into obscurity. Others once flourished, but declined into irrelevance.
But Lekrit—Lekrit had endured for two thousand years as a family of swordmasters.
“In a world where the war between humans and demonic beasts never ceases, for a family line to last two thousand years… that alone proves they are monstrously strong.”
The foundation of their strength was their innate Freezing Aura.
Every child of Lekrit was born with that icy aura. Only those who could withstand it survived.
Countless children had died young, their veins frozen and burst.
From birth, only the strong endured. That was Lekrit.
Kyrun Pel Lekrit.
That such a superhuman knight had emerged from Lekrit was no coincidence.
Kyrun was the man who, in the war against the demon realm, had charged in alone and thrust his sword into the Demon King’s heart.
For this, he attained the title of Genesis Sword, a realm beyond even the 10-star knights, and placed the world at his feet.
Lekrit had always been powerful, but under Kyrun’s rule, none dared oppose them.
With just a stretch of his hand, even the Emperor’s throne could be his.
Every man dreamed of being part of Lekrit.
“Even I once did.”
Now that I knew admiration could blind, a bitter smile crossed my lips.
Lost in thought, I soon found myself in a familiar corridor.
“…This place—”
Realizing where I was brought a strange feeling.
I was standing before Kyrun Pel Lekrit’s office.
Without thinking, my feet had carried me here. After all, this had been where I spent my days working as a 7-star knight in my previous life.
Thump. Thump.
My heart pounded. What did I want to do?
My mind screamed at me to stop, but my hand was already reaching for the doorknob.
Did I intend to stab Kyrun with this frail body?
It was reckless.
But once his image surfaced in my mind, my body no longer obeyed.
Click—
After a brief hesitation, I pushed the door open.
The room inside was so meticulously tidy it seemed stiff.
But Kyrun wasn’t there.
“He’s not inside.”
My clenched fist loosened. Relief, or disappointment? Had I been hoping to meet him?
“I should go back.”
Nothing good would come from being caught sneaking in.
Just then—
“Icael.”
“!”
A voice called from outside the door.
“Icael, I saw you go in there.”
Creak—
I opened the door cautiously, wary of whether it was friend or foe.
“…Brother Isitor.”
A familiar face.
Big eyes, lips curled into a smirk, silver hair like mine. His sharp features gave him a look of a hyena prowling the fields.
Isitor Kin Lekrit.
The sixth child of Lekrit—making him my half-brother now.
Though in my past life, he wasn’t a brother but a master, and I his knight.
“Why’d you go in there? Father isn’t inside.”
Isitor’s eyes gleamed brightly.
“More importantly, how’s your health?”
“…Well, I suppose.”
I couldn’t easily judge how close Icael and Isitor had been.
“I’d planned to give you a gift since I heard you woke up, but when I saw you heading this way, I followed.”
A gift?
A chill ran up my arm.
The Isitor I knew had never been so kind.
“I found a rare medicinal herb. Make sure to take it.”
Could it be that he was different toward his siblings?
“…Thank you, brother.”
I accepted the box.
But the moment I opened it, Isitor let out a snicker.
“Khuh.”
Of course. This bastard.
A cat’s severed head in a box? That’s your idea of a gift?
“Hahaha—!”
He clutched his belly, rolling with laughter.
“That cat dared sneak into the Bronze Castle without permission. Just like you, you lowborn wretch.”
Lowborn.
It wasn’t even logical.
Icael wasn’t born of a concubine—he was the legitimate child of a later wife. Yet Isitor dared call him such.
“Icael… your life must have been bitter indeed.”
“So lowborn creatures do cling to life longer? Even after I pushed you into the ice pond, you survived. I really hoped you wouldn’t wake up this time.”
So—was it you who caused Icael to collapse before?
“Why does a fainting corpse like you creep into Father’s office? Go on, eat that and try to toughen up.”
His vicious eyes gleamed, as if waiting for me to break into tears.
But instead—
“…What did you just call me?”
“What?”
My voice rang out firm and sharp through the corridor.
Not the reaction he expected. His face twisted.
“Lowborn. Did you just call me a lowborn?”
I had resolved to live as Icael.
But only when it benefited me. And especially not if it meant groveling before someone like Isitor.
Isitor Kin Lekrit.
Demon, stray dog, scum—many words could fit.
But above all…
“The bastard I never got to beat to death.”
My teeth ground together.
I first met Isitor when I was around twenty.
Having just reached the level of a 3-star knight, my first assignment was to serve as the close attendant to the sixth young master, Isitor.
Assigning a 3-star knight as a mere attendant? Absurd. But there was a reason.
“What are you staring at, desert rat? Want me to roast you alive?”
At only fifteen, Isitor was already intolerable.
“Kneel before me and offer your salute as a vassal, before I cut off your knee.”
That was his greeting.
From fifteen onward, he grew wilder, until by adulthood, none could restrain him.
He was obsessed with women, drink, and gambling.
At one point, while a knight under him was sent away on campaign, Isitor raped the man’s wife.
“Who among you hasn’t drooled over her? Be honest—you all wanted her.”
He even forced his followers to join in, until the woman, unable to bear the shame, took her own life.
When the husband returned and attacked Isitor with his sword—
He fell in a single stroke.
Because Isitor was of Lekrit.
Even lazy, useless Isitor had the blood of a swordmaster.
While most men trained a lifetime to reach 5-stars, Isitor had already attained it with ease.
From then on, no one dared oppose him.
Whether he tore down graveyards to build gambling halls, or used severed heads as drinking cups—none stopped him.
“I alone, among his followers, sometimes stood in his way.”
And every time, I was beaten half to death.
I always wondered: what kind of childhood spawns such a demon?
Now, here I was, seeing twelve-year-old Isitor before my eyes.
“What’re you staring at, weakling? Didn’t drink enough ice water?”
So he was a demon from the start.
“I was just thinking.”
“What?”
“Whether you’d have turned out better if your habits were fixed early. Even a demon brat like you.”
“…What did you say?”
He couldn’t make sense of my words, but he knew he was being insulted.
“You filthy wretch, how dare you run your mouth—!”
Whoosh—
He threw a punch, brimming with fury.
But.
“I see it.”
Swoosh—
I twisted my body slightly to the side.
“Wha—!”
Clang—!
Isitor lost his balance and crashed into a decorative suit of armor.
One toppled with a loud crash.
“You little brat—!”
He hadn’t expected the frail Icael to dodge.
But I was once a 7-star knight. Dodging the clumsy attack of a child barely over 1-star was nothing.
“Want to die?!”
He leapt up, stomping, raising his fist again.
Just before his punch landed, I shoved over a suit of armor toward him.
Thud!
“Argh!”
The charging Isitor was flattened beneath it.
“You bastard—”
He clawed his way out, hand reaching for his waist. A sword.
“If he draws steel, it’ll cause too much commotion. Even if it’s just a kids’ fight.”
So I warned him.
“Don’t draw that sword.”
“What, are you scared?”
Of course he wouldn’t listen.
“Have you ever even been cut by a real blade, Icael? No—you’ve probably never even touched one.”
Shwing—
He tried to draw with exaggerated bravado. But.
Tap—
“?”
The blade stayed sheathed. My simple footwork had blocked it.
“I said don’t.”
“You—you little—!”
He lunged again.
Shwing—Clack.
The cheerful sound of the sword failing to leave its scabbard echoed mockingly through the hall.
There was no way Isitor could match my reflexes.
“Grrr…”
Frustration twisted his face.
He wanted to intimidate me with a blade, but couldn’t even draw it.
“What’s happening? This weakling suddenly dares fight back?”
Isitor was boiling with rage.
“Die, you vermin!”
Finally, he charged, sword and scabbard raised together.
“Now’s the time.”
Thwack—!
I drove my knee straight into him.
“Gaaah!”
The impact, powered by both my strike and his own momentum, sank into his solar plexus.
A perfect hit.
“Y-You… lowborn—”
He collapsed to the ground, choking, writhing.
Impossible. Beaten by frail Icael?
“I’ll… I’ll take my revenge—”
“Revenge?”
Crack!
I kicked him in the chest with all my strength.
“Seems like I’m the one who should take revenge on you.”
“!”
Bang—Thud—!
He couldn’t even speak. Pain like he had never felt before tore through his body.
“Urghhh!”
Isitor’s scream burst out. But it was far too early to cry out in pain.
Revenge was only beginning.
