Chapter 3:
The Magic Noble House’s Failure (2)
The person who had summoned Laban was his uncle, a council member responsible for foreign affairs.
After delivering the official message, the uncle reverted to his usual tone.
“That ‘thank you’ sounds a bit out of place there, doesn’t it?”
“My apologies. Uncle—I mean, Council Elder. But may I ask the reason my succession rights are being stripped?”
Being stripped of succession rights was something Laban had hoped for. Still, he needed to know the cause and effect to plan his next steps.
“The reason is you displayed the traits of a Berserker in your spar with Chava. Strengthening the body without using magical power is a characteristic of the Oelbrod family.”
Laban was well aware of the Oelbrod family. They were the renowned northern noble house, considered equal to the eastern Barazulat. The two families had intermarried multiple times.
“If your lack of skill in magic, unlike a true Barazulat member, and your ability to pierce Chava’s magic with your bare body, are due to Berserker traits, then it all makes sense.”
‘A serious misunderstanding has occurred.’
If he had Berserker traits, Laban would have been the first to notice. But in fifteen years of managing his body, he had never felt such an ability.
His poor magic was due to losing his original bodily functions while reviving his dead body. Originally, there should have been a ‘Magic Organ’ to store and output magical power, but Raven didn’t know if such an organ existed in his body and couldn’t fix it.
Thanks to all the medical staff of the ducal house desperately trying to treat Raven, he could now at least use some magic, however feeble. But how could he explain that? By saying, ‘Your nephew actually died, and I’m just using the repaired body’? He’d be lucky not to be hit with tactical magic.
“We have a pact with the Oelbrod family. If someone from either family is born with strong traits of the other’s bloodline, they must be sent to the other family as a daughter-in-law or a son-in-law.”
He now understood why a council elder from the foreign affairs side had come, not one in charge of personnel or etiquette. This wasn’t just about succession rights.
“So, you’re saying I cannot remain in Barazulat. I understand.”
“Once we inform the Oelbrod family of this, they will choose a suitable young lady for an engagement.”
“A child’s marriage is decided by the parents. I will merely follow.”
How could he use this situation?
For Laban, this was fine. He could get a suitable environment to cultivate without interference.
‘But one thing: when I return to the Central Plains, I would be abandoning my wife and children, which violates the Three Bonds and Five Constants.
Wait. I don’t actually have Berserker traits, do I? Then the marriage shouldn’t even happen.’
“Umm, what if I don’t actually have Berserker traits?”
“You’ve been at the bottom for so long you’ve lost confidence.
Chava is a mid-to-upper-tier competitor. Seeing you subdue him without training means your talent overflows. No need to worry.”
‘That would be true if I did it with actual Berserker talent. Besides, it wasn’t a formal match; I ambushed him when he was off guard.’
“But still, hypothetically speaking. I don’t want to create future trouble.”
At Laban’s serious attitude, the elder stroked his chin in thought.
“It would be deceiving the Oelbrod family, but it will likely end as a minor scandal. Neither side benefits from escalating the issue.
Breaking the engagement might leave a stain, but we can smooth that over with the family’s name.”
“And my treatment after that?”
“The marriage was the Grand Council’s decision, so we won’t hold you responsible.
However, rejoining the succession competition would be difficult. There are conventions, after all.”
‘That’s even better!’
If it’s the Oelbrod family, they should notice Laban lacks Berserker traits. The marriage will naturally fall through.
He had endured plenty of scorn during his childhood at Shaolin Temple. Time to cultivate without interference was more important than that.
Not receiving support would make it hard to obtain rare materials, but he could just put in the legwork. As long as no one interfered, he could solve things with time and effort.
And no one would bother spending time and effort to interfere with Laban, who was no longer a competitor. Even Chava, if he had sense, wouldn’t harass Laban—who was now definitively not a competitor—at the cost of his own reputation.
“You are already past the typical engagement age.”
Due to frequent war deaths regardless of age or status, nobles engaged early, typically between ages 10 and 14.
Yet, Laban still had no fiancée. Being a Duke’s son, he needed a match of appropriate standing, but his ‘flaws’ had made finding a suitable partner difficult.
The Grand Council saw this as a perfect opportunity to marry him off and acted quickly. That’s why his uncle summoned him just one day after he defeated Chava.
“Therefore, you must now build achievements.”
“Achievements, you say?”
“Yes. To go to the Oelbrod family, you need a suitable background. While being a Barazulat direct descendant is the best background, some accomplishments are still necessary.”
‘He’s telling me to raise my value before the marriage.’
Political marriage was both a union and a transaction. A person with poor character and lacking scholarship was naturally a bad product.
Sending a direct descendant as a son-in-law meant they had to receive a lot in return. But they couldn’t say, ‘Here’s someone who ranked last in the succession competition with no achievements.’
“What should I do?”
“There are several ways. You could write a thesis to build a reputation as a scholar or develop a new spell.”
“Either seems difficult to accomplish in a short time.”
“True. So we must choose the easy and fast route.”
“Military merits?”
Instead of answering, the elder widened his eyes and looked at Laban. Soon realizing his discourtesy, he nodded.
“Correct. Excellent judgment. Military merit is indeed the fastest path, as per the Grand Council’s consensus.”
“I understand.”
“As you know, dungeons and monsters teem across the Empire. There’s no shortage of places to earn glory.
Of course, we can’t have you dying, so the main family will provide appropriate support.”
“Nobles are protectors. I understand the weight that name carries.
I see it as walking a path I must take as an adult, just a little earlier.”
At Laban’s answer, the elder smiled faintly and nodded. He thought, ‘Not avoiding danger and leading the charge in battle—that’s definitely the Berserker bloodline.’
Whether considering that or because they were his final words, the elder spoke again formally.
“A formal order in His Grace the Duke’s name will arrive shortly. From now on, Young Master Laban, you must break through dungeons as an adventurer.”
“An adventurer?”
“If you were to enlist in the military now, one or two years would likely be insufficient to produce results.”
Laban nodded, recalling his military experience from his past life.
Becoming a soldier immediately was difficult, and to earn proper military merit, you needed to be an officer, not just a soldier.
To become an officer, personal combat power was important, but one also needed to learn military command and tactics. That was not something achievable in a month or two.
“I understand.”
“Then we shall meet again.”
A few days after the elder left, the promised order bearing the Duke’s seal arrived. An explanatory document was also attached.
Reading the explanation, Laban couldn’t hold back a wry smile. It was because of the forged identification card enclosed.
Adventurer Career: 3 years. Started adventuring at age 13. Current rank: 6th Grade Adventurer.
Thirteen was the age when puberty barely began. At that age, entering dungeons and wrestling with monsters?
The fact that it was a plausible setting was amusing. Among novice adventurers, there were quite a few children in their early teens.
Children mainly assisted senior adventurers or handled chores like collecting spoils. They grew as adventurers by accumulating experience that way.
Also, thirteen was the age one could enter a junior military academy. Though it seemed forced, it was plausible.
‘Well now. Should I call it cunning or shrewd plotting?’
The setting was that Laban, born with Berserker traits, had hidden his identity and acted as an adventurer since childhood. As a result, he achieved considerable success at a young age.
Typically, surpassing 3rd Grade meant shedding the novice label. And 7th Grade was the threshold for a mid-level adventurer.
Being 6th Grade at fifteen was rare but not unheard of. They had crafted this setting quite well in just a few days.
‘The strategists must have worked hard. The setting is quite elaborate.’
There was also a setting that he had been active in a distant area, raised his rank, and then moved. By now, intelligence operations were probably underway in that ‘distant area.’
Laban spent a day reading and memorizing the information about his fabricated background.
Laban traveled to the dungeon city of Kapuvar on a magical carriage that ran even at night. Two Barazulat house soldiers were waiting near the city.
“Let’s see, who’s Zoltan and who’s Rayoshi?”
“I’m Rayoshi, and this is Zoltan.”
Rayoshi was a sturdy man, a head taller than Laban with a solid, square-jawed impression.
Zoltan had a much slimmer build and a smooth face. His smiling eyes contrasted with Rayoshi’s stern expression.
Neither man wore the symbolic silver armor or purple robe of Barazulat house soldiers.
Wearing quilted armor with a chest-and-abdomen protector over it, and leather guards on elbows and knees, they looked every bit the adventurer.
Not unifying their equipment accentuated their adventurer image. Laban also received similar, but slightly different, gear.
“I look forward to working with you for the next year. I’m Laban. I’ve trained in grappling and swordsmanship; magic is not my forte.
Please introduce yourselves briefly as well.”
“Both of us graduated from the military academy last year and were slated for assignment to the 3rd Magical Regiment.”
“If you were assigned to a Magical Regiment, you were among the elite. My involvement derailed your path.”
Combat mages were talents sought after by every military unit. Therefore, magical officers were usually spread thinly across various units.
Only the Barazulat family, famous as a magic noble house, operated a regiment composed entirely of mages.
Such Magical Regiments received special treatment and were the top choice for newly graduated magical officers.
Being pulled for another mission just before joining such a unit—and that mission being an aide to a family member being sent out—was, as Laban said, like being knocked off the career path.
However, Rayoshi puffed out his chest and declared to Raven.
“Not at all! A soldier speaks only with loyalty!”
Rayoshi answered loudly, standing at attention. Zoltan made a gesture as if choking upon seeing him.
“3rd Magical Regiment, Lieutenant Zoltan, reporting for duty.”
“At ease, Lieutenant.”
Though he spoke like a new recruit reporting, his intonation and stress were playful. Laban smiled slightly and responded in kind.
“Zoltan. The mission is no joke.”
“Oho, someone’s flaunting that they’re not an officer now. Make sure you act the same way at the adventurer’s guild.”
“Did you two know each other before?”
“Not particularly someone I wanted to know.”
“Zoltan and I are childhood friends. We attended the same academy, so we teamed up during field training sessions.”
“Is that so? You’re just the right personnel for this mission.”
The Grand Council’s judgment was that Raven, however much he had Berserker traits, could not earn glory in dungeons without training.
The actual fighting would be done by these two, with Laban following along appropriately and just collecting achievements. The goal was to reach 11th Grade, the symbol of a veteran adventurer, within a year.
In truth, Laban had no such intention.
‘In my previous country’s military, there were many pigs who coveted their subordinates’ merits. I swear I will never become like that.’
Laban touched the sword issued by the family, making a silent vow.
On the other hand, his heart surged with joy. Taking up the sword to vanquish evil harming the common people! The blood of a chivalrous hero boiled within him.
