"The ninth child of the great Frontel Family, Kroha Frontel, offers his belated greetings."
Kroha bowed his head as he spoke those words.
Anet and Ronne, who were watching this unfold, tried not to show it, but a faint unease flickered across their faces.
The source of that emotion was the person facing Kroha.
This is unexpected.
It would have been strange not to recognize him. Those red eyes were the exact same kind as Kroha's own.
The one who had come to Thorn Hill was a leading candidate for the next family head of the Frontel Family and a knight possessing a 9-star core.
Luke Frontel.
He was known in the world as the Burning Eyes.
It wasn't simply because of his red irises. That was a trait given without exception to all those of Frontel blood.
'He doesn't let those he deems enemies live,' was it?
Kroha had heard it from Ronne before.
The story of how Luke had single-handedly massacred dozens of knights from the Aintz Family.
The moniker Burning Eyes symbolized a being like a merciless fire demon.
Just as the rumors say.
The sheer pressure radiating from him was already more than the current Kroha could bear. It wasn't unreasonable.
Putting everything else aside, Luke was already officially seated as the Vice Family Head.
This meant he was at the pinnacle among all the successors.
It can't be explained just by him being the eldest.
The position of Vice Family Head in the Frontel Family could be seized at any time through 'contention.' And all his siblings were geniuses with formidable talents.
The fact that the seat hadn't changed hands proved his overwhelming strength.
Why has he come here?
That was why Kroha couldn't easily make sense of it.
Even if he'd heard the news about Kroha, it wasn't something that would draw the attention of Luke Frontel himself.
There was no reason for him to visit this place without even bringing a single attendant.
"It seems your condition has truly improved."
Luke regarded Kroha with cold eyes as he said this.
It was a response laden with deeper meaning. This was the first time the two brothers had ever faced each other, making their sibling bond feel meaningless.
Now that Luke had confirmed Kroha's recovery, the two were inevitably destined to point blades at one another.
It would be stranger if they acted warmly.
"As a bearer of Frontel blood, I can't show any weakness. I intend to regain my health as quickly as possible."
Kroha met Luke's gaze as he replied.
"Then you must have some idea why I've come here."
There were many possibilities. However, none led to certainty.
Kroha didn't know much about the man named Luke.
"No. I'm still too lacking to gauge my brother's intentions."
Kroha could only step into the family after the selection process.
But that didn't mean he couldn't form connections with family members.
If there was a legitimate reason, they could visit this place. No one had simply come to see Kroha until now.
Yet now, someone had come. None other than Luke Frontel himself.
"I see. There are two reasons I've come here like this."
With those words, Luke's hand pierced the air.
The ring on his finger appeared to be a subspace artifact infused with mana technology.
"This is..."
The item handed over was a glass vial about the size of a finger joint. The liquid inside was easy to identify.
"...the Family Elixir."
"It's been bestowed upon you by the Family Head."
Kroha couldn't help but be inwardly startled the moment the words "Family Head" left Luke's mouth.
Kroha was well aware of it. The existence of the elixir granted only to those of Frontel blood who engaged in ceaseless combat.
To think I'd see the real thing with my own eyes.
Even in his previous life, he'd only heard rumors. The Frontel Family Elixir was handled with that much preciousness.
Rumors about its effects abounded. They said it forged a sturdy body and martial talent.
But there was no credibility to them.
The elixir's true effects were a top secret known only to those of Frontel blood who had consumed it.
Hard to judge by appearance.
In a way, it was something that should have been given as a matter of course.
The reason it hadn't been provided to Kroha until now was simply because they hadn't seen the need.
It would have been a waste on a child who couldn't even handle mana.
On the flip side, it holds immense significance now.
The Family Head bestowing it directly was tantamount to officially declaring Kroha's entry into the succession competition.
This news had surely been relayed to all the other brothers as well.
"You don't look particularly pleased."
For now, that wasn't the priority. There was a more pressing issue to address first.
"No."
Luke continued to stare at Kroha with an expressionless face.
"I just thought there must be another purpose for you to come all the way here."
"What makes you think that?"
"The elixir is merely the Family Head's command. You haven't stated your own purpose yet, brother."
No matter how valuable the elixir was—requiring careful transport—it wasn't something that demanded the Vice Family Head's personal involvement.
Luke had said there were two reasons for his visit.
Which meant the main point came next.
"You've already learned how to survive, it seems. Very well, as you say, I have a separate purpose."
Shring-.
A sharp metallic sound grated on his ears.
"Lord Luke!"
Anet cried out immediately at Luke's action. The sword drawn from his waist was aimed at Kroha's throat.
In the process, a line of injury appeared on Kroha's cheek, and blood slowly spread from it.
"It's best if you stay still. You know no one can interfere in the contention between siblings."
That was the nature of the Frontel successors.
Beings born to harm others first to protect themselves. For those fated to endless struggle, this was hardly unnatural.
Anet knew this too, so she couldn't easily step in.
It would tarnish the Frontel honor and ultimately harm Kroha fatally.
"Even so, Young Master Kroha hasn't completed the selection yet."
Ronne, still maintaining his composure, spoke up.
It wasn't a wrong argument. For Kroha, who wasn't yet officially part of the family, this was an exceptional situation.
Thus, Luke should sheathe his sword around now.
"Do you think the same, Kroha Frontel?"
But instead of withdrawing his blade, Luke glared at Kroha.
A kinder brother than I expected.
Contention was an inevitable battle among successors. One couldn't survive by taking it lightly.
The family's protection wasn't absolute.
After becoming an official successor, even greater threats would come frequently.
Expecting leniency every time would only prove one's lack of qualification.
"No. I share the same view as you, brother."
Kroha said this while fixing his gaze on the sword tip. There was no need to show fear.
With his experience rolling through countless battlefields, Kroha knew. Luke had no intent to harm him.
If he did, he would have taken his head in one stroke. There was no need to converse with someone as outmatched as Kroha.
"I'll make you a proposal."
"Yes."
"Declare that you renounce your right to succession. I don't want to see blood any more than you do."
It was consideration in its own way. And it wasn't directed at Kroha.
It stemmed from Anet, who had been worried about her child's safety all this time.
Luke was essentially saying that if he stayed quietly on the sidelines, he could be protected even after renouncing succession rights.
"I'm sorry, but that's not possible."
"...What did you say?"
"I said I can't accept your proposal, brother."
"You don't care if you die here?"
"If so, it would be my own weakness at fault."
It wasn't contrived persuasion to preserve his life. It was sincerity flowing from the depths of Kroha's heart.
He had endured far greater betrayals before.
...How?
No one his age would react this way in this situation. Not even Luke himself.
But he had no intention of accepting Kroha's words at face value.
Sheer intimidation couldn't resolve everything. Unfounded expectations only bred disappointment.
Is it bravado?
Moreover, the mana emanating from Kroha was below average. In the succession competition, it was better to drop out early—that judgment remained unchanged.
"You'll have to take responsibility."
"It won't just be on me."
For a moment, Luke's eyes twitched.
Kroha's previous words bordered on presumptuous advice. If he truly feared Kroha as a future threat, it would be better to eliminate him here.
It was more than enough to offend him. Yet Luke paid no mind to that aspect.
No matter how mature Kroha appeared, he was still just an eight-year-old child.
That's what I thought.
It wasn't empty talk.
At the same time, mana surged from Kroha. He adopted a stance ready to counter an attack at any moment. And the amount of mana he exuded was rapidly increasing.
Just moments ago, it had been confirmed to be below average.
What in the world...?
Soon, Kroha's mana reached 2-star level.
Still far below Luke's toes, but that wasn't the point.
It was a phenomenon he'd never heard of. It defied all basic premises about mana and cores.
Such a thing is possible?
Finally, as Kroha circulated mana up to 3-star level, Luke understood.
Why his father was showing interest in Kroha.
What basis Kroha had for such confidence.
"You really intend to fight me?"
"Isn't that the Frontel bloodline?"
"Why?"
There were many things he could say. But only one needed to be said.
"Because I have a purpose."
No one could accept or understand it. The situation was that contradictory.
"I see."
Luke let out a self-deprecating laugh as he raised his sword.
"...I've heard your will loud and clear."
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