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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Ian Lichtenauer
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"Sniff... sniff..."
The pitch-black night had even hidden the moon.
In the desolate wild mountain where not a single human shadow could be seen, the echoing sobs were utterly heartbreaking.
"Tsk. Can't you pull yourselves together?"
A boy's voice, still not fully past puberty, rang out. The two thugs who had been sobbing with puffy, swollen eyes jolted as if they had heard the voice of the demon king himself and shot their hands up high.
"Y-Yes, sir!"
Lucas sat perched on a rock in front of the men, rubbing his forehead as if nursing a headache.
Sniff, sniff.
Even though he had already shaken them down completely, the faint smell of dirt wafting from his palm against his forehead and from his clothes kept irritating his nose.
'...Should've squeezed them a little more?'
Lucas glared at the thugs for a brief moment, clenching his fist, then let out a sigh and relaxed his grip.
Right now, venting his anger on these small-time crooks wasn't the priority.
"Hoo... Alright, then. Let's go over it once more, slowly."
The refined hand pressing against his forehead—one that seemed utterly unacquainted with hard labor—still felt alien to him.
The hands of Lucas, who had once roamed countless battlefields alongside the Golden Heavenly Chains, reaping blood and lives, had been as tough as forged steel.
So it was only natural that this soft, milky hand—like a baby's, too delicate to even pluck a single flower—felt so awkward.
'Damn, hard to believe it even with my own eyes.'
Even as he watched the hand move at his command, it didn't feel real at all.
People die, and that's the end.
Ever since the dawn of creation, when the continent of Agena in the Mid-Realm came into being, this had been one of the immutable truths across all history: death.
But this wasn't just surviving a brush with death.
Not even simple reincarnation—this was his soul awakening in someone else's body.
If such a thing were possible, Lucas wouldn't have ended up with just a single life.
He was one of the most resented figures on the continent right now, after all.
'...For now, I'll figure out why this happened later.'
Lucas was one of the continent's top experts at ending lives and sending souls to the afterlife, but he had never once pondered or delved deeply into the mysteries of life and death.
This could wait—he could always track down some twisted necromancer obsessed with death later and beat the answers out of them.
'First things first: I need to accurately assess the original owner of this body.'
At the very least, he needed to know whose son this body belonged to if he wanted to crawl back home.
Swoosh!
Lucas turned his head toward the two thugs, who were trembling with their arms raised high.
"H-Hic!"
A hiccup escaped the men's throats the moment their eyes met Lucas's.
'F-Fuck... What kind of kid has eyes like that...?'
It was only natural.
No matter that his soul was now housed in a child's body, it belonged to Lucas—the greatest overlord of the Mid-Realm's Agena, the Overlord of the Alexandor Empire.
That gaze was far beyond what mere neighborhood thugs could withstand.
'Fuck, we thought he was just some rich brat...'
Their job had seemed simple enough.
Go to the designated spot, pick up the collapsed Lucas where he lay, and bury him deep in the wild mountains where no one would find him.
They had thought they hit the jackpot with the massive payout for such an easy task.
But as expected, no one shells out that kind of money without a catch.
'Damn it, we shouldn't have let greed get the better of us...!'
They had lost even their seed money because their eyes rolled back at the sight of that thick scroll bundle and they got too greedy.
Confirming that the thugs were fully cowed, Lucas spat out a single word.
"Where is this place? Who am I? What year is it now? Tell me everything you know."
"...Pardon?"
The thugs blankly echoed his question.
Doubt flickered in their eyes despite the fear.
Where is this? Who am I?
Classic questions from local idiots, weren't they?
But the doubt didn't last long.
That kid's fists and feet from the grave were far too painful for street thugs to afford any wondering.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
'...Hmm, Ian, huh.'
Lucas repeatedly tossed and caught the ID card he had fished out from rifling through the thugs' bodies.
The ID was elegantly finished in gleaming gold—flashy, yet not gaudy.
Its extraordinary appearance alone proved that the original owner of this body was no common peasant.
"Who told you to stop talking?"
The thug who had tried to pocket the gold edging on Ian's—no, Lucas's now—ID card got smacked once more. He rubbed his swollen eyes in surprise and continued.
"Sniff! Yes, sir. So, it's Continental Year 273 right now, and this is the back mountain near Titan Domain in the Aslan Kingdom."
Ian read the surname inscribed on the ID card as he listened to the thug.
'Ian Lichtenauer of the Aslan Kingdom...'
Having heard the thug out, Ian let out a hollow chuckle.
"You guys can't read, can you?"
"Gasp! H-How did you...?!"
Their eyes bulged round, as if they thought it was some mind-reading spell from the shamans of the East or West Continents.
Of course he knew.
No one in their right mind would try to bury a scion of the Lichtenauer family in the Aslan Kingdom.
Unless they were insane, their bravery stemmed solely from ignorance.
The Lichtenauer Martial Clan.
Even Lucas, the Overlord who unified the North Continent under the Alexandor Empire, had heard of them.
They were one of the most renowned martial families in the Aslan Kingdom—the sole kingdom dividing the South Continent, facing the Forbidden Zone and the Great Tree Sea across its borders.
Their presence was so formidable that rumors swirled it was what kept the Alexandor Empire from pushing south.
Of course, Lucas, as the ruler of Alexandor, had never cared about other continents to begin with.
In any case, for local thugs to knowingly rob and bury a scion of such a prestigious house?
Unless their skulls were stuffed with pasta instead of brains, it was unimaginable.
'Ignorance is bliss, as they say.'
Wasn't that exactly what Stion Ballanty used to tell him every damn day?
'I wonder how he's faring.'
It had been a full decade since Lucas's body fell on the Kairun Plains.
'With that cunning brain of his, he won't starve anywhere... Ah.'
A sudden question crossed his mind, and he asked the thugs.
"Do you know what's become of the Alexandor Empire in the North Continent?"
He didn't expect much even as he asked.
The continent was vast.
No matter Alexandor's prestige, how would rural South Continent yokels know North Continent affairs?
"The Alexandor Empire? Uh..."
See? That hemming and hawing was the reaction of the clueless.
"Never mind, I didn't expect..."
At that moment, one thug nudged the other's back.
"You know, that barbarian nation that existed before the Duper Empire was founded."
"Oh, that one? No wonder the name felt off—why bring up a country that croaked ages ago..."
"Hold on."
Ian's eyes flashed as he listened to the two thugs.
"Which one was founded, and which one fell?"
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Crunch, crunch.
As Ian—not Lucas now—descended the wild mountain, the thugs' tales swirled endlessly in his mind.
He had let the two go.
He had considered punishing them for trying to bury him alive, but they had given him the lay of the land in the current continent.
'Besides, I beat the tar out of them plenty.'
That was atonement enough for their crimes.
Still.
"The Duper Empire..."
Duper Empire.
The nation founded by Siegfried Duper, the continent's most renowned hero.
Ten years ago.
On that day when Siegfried's blade severed his neck amid the snow, Lucas had thought:
Siegfried, that sly fox, wouldn't strike without some payoff.
He had expected at least ten percent of the North Continent's territory to be carved off, but Siegfried exceeded even that.
On that fateful day that decided the continent's destiny, Siegfried rallied his expedition force without disbanding it and marched straight from the Kairun Plains to the imperial capital, Hecaronia.
Alexandor's powerhouses had long since fallen alongside their Overlord on those plains.
Siegfried seized Hecaronia in one fell swoop and, together with the expedition's heroes, made a proclamation.
-The Alexandor Empire has fallen! But the suffering of its people under Lucas's tyranny has not ended. Though they were our enemies' subjects, what fault do the innocent bear? I, Hero Siegfried, along with the heroes gathered by sacred will, shall stand by the people and soothe their pain until it fades!
...That was the official tale of how the expedition became the Duper Empire instead of disbanding.
But Ian saw right through Siegfried's true intent.
-The Alexandor Empire is ours now, to divvy up nicely with my hero allies. We'll swallow it whole without losing a single hair.
Nothing more, nothing less.
'Still as flowery-tongued as ever, Siegfried. You damn bastard.'
Siegfried was already famed as a hero.
The entrenched powers of other continents surely didn't want his influence to grow.
But the problem was.
'He has the cause, the justification.'
Not for any other reason, but for the North Continent's people—that was Siegfried's 'greater good.'
He had publicly formed the expedition for the North's sake in the first place. To oppose his 'greater good' now?
That alone was enough to draw the continent's condemnation.
The 'cause' and 'justification' that Lucas had never considered or bothered with.
Ironically, Siegfried had wielded those two things masterfully, absorbing everything Lucas had built in just ten years.
"...Interesting."
Swoosh!
To reiterate: the defeated have no say.
Lucas had lost.
So whether Siegfried Duper devoured the Alexandor Empire grilled, steamed, or raw—it was no business of the dead Lucas.
However.
"...As Ian Lichtenauer, it's a different story."
The blood of a renowned South Continent martial clan.
For that blood to grow into a new hero—no, a new Overlord—and challenge the false hero?
That was an entirely 'separate' matter.
Thus, his first task was clear.
Whoosh!
At the edge of the wild mountain.
Ian Lichtenauer's footsteps halted.
The long night with the thugs had passed, and the dawning sun now cast its light on a massive domain in the distance.
A vast, sturdy land just like its name 'Titan.'
At its heart stood a proud, towering mansion.
That was the main house of the Lichtenauer Martial Clan.
"First, shall I claim that place?"
Ian felt no anxiety whatsoever.
Since he remembered all of Lucas's martial prowess, reaching the top was a foregone conclusion.
Whether he was born into a martial clan or a family of scholars—it didn't matter a whit.
All obstacles on the Overlord's path were merely to be trampled and swept aside.
Ian's footsteps slowly advanced toward the Lichtenauer mansion.
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"Found him?!"
"No, sir! We searched everywhere—even under the stable straw—but he's nowhere!"
"Wrong! We even checked the toilet pits, same result!"
"Ugh, the smell! You lunatics! Why the hell did you search there?!"
"But we've already combed every normal spot!"
The Lichtenauer household was in chaos from the morning.
Ian Lichtenauer, second son of Paon Lichtenauer, Marquis and lord of Titan Domain, had vanished without a trace.
"Damn it, of all days...! Does he know what today is and still pull this? That blasted second young lord has us in a frenzy since dawn!"
The search captain couldn't hide his mounting irritation.
Unbefitting a martial clan heir, he had no martial arts, not even aura cultivation—a total waste.
Strip away his status as the marquis's son, and he was useless beyond eating and shitting.
And now, this early in the morning, he had to take reports from subordinates reeking of sewage.
"Damn, just find him. Second young lord or not, I'll tan his hide..."
"Hahaha, search captain. Even so, he's direct Lichtenauer blood—can't you spare the butt?"
A clear voice came from behind the gnashing captain.
His shoulders twitched at the sound.
It was a voice that shouldn't be heard here right now.
Hoping he'd misheard, he turned—only for his hopes to shatter before he even finished.
The sewage-stinking subordinate snapped a crisp salute.
"Sir! We greet the Eldest Young Lord!"
"No need for that. My apologies—you're all suffering because of my inadequate little brother."
The captain was at a loss as the Eldest Young Lord casually approached the reeking soldiers, patted their shoulders, and exchanged pleasantries.
No matter how worthless the second young lord was, he was still the Eldest's one and only brother.
Unsure what reprimand might come, the captain fidgeted nervously.
"Search captain."
The Eldest Young Lord addressed him softly.
"Yes, sir!"
"Even if it's frustrating, can't you overlook it generously? It's an important day—he must be beside himself. Instead, let me apologize on his behalf."
"N-No, sir! If anything, I was out of line."
The captain's head bowed involuntarily, moved by the Eldest's gentle charisma.
'This is the one.'
He was the rightful heir to lead the great Lichtenauer Martial Clan.
Not just the captain—the stinking soldiers thought the same.
As the warm atmosphere spread, a commotion erupted from the main gate.
"R-Report!"
A soldier who had been checking the outer wall's drainage hole came running up to the captain, breathless.
"The Eldest Young Lord is present. What is this insolence?!"
The captain scolded him, but alas, the soldier had no time for it.
"The second young lord has been found!"