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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: The Twin-Headed Blood Snakes
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At Paon's curt dismissal of the guests, none of the executives gathered in the audience chamber could hide their bewilderment.
"Pardon? But, Patriarch, you said we'd discuss the matter of the successor after the Second Young Lord's Gate Opening Ceremony..."
Indeed.
No matter how direct a descendant of the Lichtenauer Martial Clan Ian might be, there was no reason for the clan's finest elites to set aside their missions and gather here for the ceremony of someone treated like a halfwit.
The real reason they had postponed their duties and returned to the clan was precisely this matter.
To formally discuss the successor who would lead the Martial Clan into the future.
Only then could each captain push their favored successor to the pinnacle of the next Lichtenauer generation.
"Must I say it twice?"
Paon quietly turned the question back to the captain who had brought it up.
But no one present was oblivious enough to mistake Paon's words for a genuine inquiry.
"...My apologies, Patriarch. Please forgive my impertinence."
"Hahaha! It seems the Patriarch has other pressing matters. Let's call it a day, everyone. It's an important issue, but not one that has to be settled today, right?"
As the tense atmosphere in the audience chamber grew rigid, Eldest Young Lord Alex rose and smoothly lightened the mood.
With the clan's current master and its closest heir to tomorrow both steering the conversation the same way, no one else dared add a word.
'What can we do? The Patriarch has spoken. Let's head back for today.'
'Damn it. Who knows when we'll get back to the field...'
In the end, all they could do was leave.
While venting their frustration over the wasted trip onto Ian, of course.
A short while later.
Only Paon Lichtenauer, the master of the Martial Clan, and the elderly mage Nedyr—who had unveiled the treasure—remained in the audience chamber.
"Heh heh! Patriarch, did you perhaps anticipate this outcome?"
Nedyr chuckled softly as he asked Paon, who had been wearing a dignified expression until moments ago. Leaning back in his chair, Paon let out a groan.
"Ugh! My face muscles are so sore from keeping up the stern look. Did you expect it? Is that what you're asking?"
Rubbing his face, Paon answered Nedyr's question.
"As if. If I had, I would've been the first to suggest making Ian's ceremony grand from the start. That Alex... always stirring up unnecessary trouble."
Paon, as Ian's father, knew better than anyone how the clan treated him.
That was why he had no intention of holding a lavish Gate Opening Ceremony for Ian.
No, he had even considered skipping it altogether.
Someone with Ian's cursed constitution could never complete the ceremony successfully.
Yet Alex had insisted that they couldn't hold such a meager event for the great Patriarch's direct son, dragging every elite in the clan into it.
Of course, most of the knight order captains had come for the successor discussion.
But Alex hadn't worried about that at all from the beginning.
After all, he firmly believed there was no one else fit to lead the Martial Clan but himself.
"Heh heh heh! Still, doesn't he seem ambitious? The one destined for the Martial Clan's pinnacle needs that spirit and drive, or they'll just rot away."
Paon snorted at Nedyr's defense of Alex.
"Hmph! If one wants to be the Martial Clan's successor, they must compete fairly with true martial prowess. I haven't named him heir precisely because I dislike his underhanded tricks."
"Well, if that's how you feel."
Nedyr simply shrugged at Paon's firm stance.
Though he now served as the Martial Clan's chief mage and advisor, his origins and true nature lay with the Mage Tower.
No matter how long he'd eaten the clan's bread, meddling in Paon's decisions would be blatant overstepping.
"By the way, what do you think possessed Young Lord Ian to choose that weapon?"
Nedyr smoothly shifted the topic to Ian.
Three years of sidelong glances could steal a purse.
Having lingered in the Martial Clan for so long, even Nedyr—a mage—knew just how bizarre Ian's chosen weapon was.
Paon, recalling the earlier scene at Nedyr's question, let out an amused chuckle.
"Hoho! How should I know what's in that boy's head? But we'll find out soon enough. Whether he picked it just for show... or..."
Paon's face, which had softened into that of a kindly neighborhood uncle while relaxing his muscles, hardened with dignity and cold resolve.
"Whether he truly discerned its potential and has the ability to wield it."
"Oh? So there's some secret to it after all?"
"A weapon slumbering in the Weapon Orb—one even I don't know about? Do you think that makes sense?"
"And yet you permitted it so readily. How ruthless."
Nedyr calmly criticized Paon, but Paon didn't blink.
"If he's a fool who can't even unlock a weapon's potential, it'd be better for him to die now. Limping along with half-baked talent would only lead to a more miserable fall to Alex later."
Before the Gate Opening Ceremony, he could still protect his worthless son.
But now that it was over.
From here on, he had to respect Ian's choice.
For Ian was now an official member of the Martial Clan.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Thud, thud!
It hadn't felt like a long time, but the sun was already dipping low in the western sky.
With his wounds treated, Ian walked back to his quarters alongside old butler Hans, bathed in the yellow and red hues of sunset.
Unlike other heirs trailed by hordes of retainers, Ian's entourage seemed almost pitifully sparse.
Before and after the Gate Opening Ceremony, nothing had changed for him.
No one supported him still, and he remained a halfwit in the clan's eyes.
The elites in the audience chamber hadn't been impressed enough to admire him—everything he'd shown so far just seemed too amateurish.
The only difference before and after Ian entered the Patriarch's hall was one thing.
Two ridiculous swords now hung firmly at his empty waist.
That was it.
"Is that armament the weapon you chose, young master?"
Hans eyed Ian's waist with a surprised expression and asked.
"Yeah. Why, does it look weird to you too, Hans?"
"No, if you chose it, there must be a reason. It's just..."
Fiddling with the monocle over his good eye, Hans stared straight at Ian's swords and spoke.
"...I wonder if you can truly handle these blades."
"What? Hahaha!"
Ian laughed heartily at Hans's blunt—almost provocative—words, feeling pleased instead.
As expected, Hans was no ordinary man; he had some story to him.
Only someone who recognized the swords' potential could say something like that.
No one dislikes having capable people by their side.
"We'll see about that in time."
Even at Hans's loaded words, Ian's eyes brimmed with confidence.
'I'll tame you soon enough.'
Unaware or uncaring of Ian's satisfied gaze on his waist, the twin swords merely swayed with his steps.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
A few days passed since Ian's Gate Opening Ceremony.
In that time, a few simple documents arrived at the Patriarch's hall.
Brief explanations of the weapon Ian had chosen.
Having become a proper warrior of the Lichtenauer Clan through the ceremony, he needed to know his new partner's details better than anyone.
Rustle!
Sitting on a sunlit rock in the courtyard behind his quarters, Ian calmly read the documents from the Patriarch's hall.
"Twin-Headed Blood Snakes..."
Blood-red snakes with two heads.
A name chilling enough just to hear—it was the true identity of the Black-White Dao Sword.
But as Ian read the description, a satisfied smile spread across his face.
Flip!
The pages turned under his hand, revealing more about the Twin-Headed Blood Snakes.
A long, slender body for the white great serpent, and a short but sturdy one for the lesser serpent.
With great and small heads united as one weapon, their essence shares a single body.
The two heads, knowing they are one, always yearn for a new form.
Thus, wielder of the Twin-Headed Blood Snakes,
beware.
If your power falls short, it will discard your inept head and seek to claim your body.
...Thud!
Finishing the last page, Ian's smile deepened.
"I like it."
Compared to the Golden Heavenly Chains, it fell short in many ways.
That was only natural.
The Golden Heavenly Chains were the ultimate weapon, forged from the shamanism of the Eastern Continent, blessings of the Western Continent, and metallurgy of the Southern Continent.
Even if the Golden Heavenly Chains were laid before him now, it would be nothing but pearls around a pig's neck to Ian at present.
A treasure becomes one only in the hands of the worthy.
To the unqualified, it's merely a deadly trinket that claims its owner's life.
That was why Ian was so pleased with his current choice.
This was a treasure only he had noticed.
Whoosh!
Gripping the Twin-Headed Blood Snakes in both hands, he channeled Blood Nether True Energy through his body, piercing a strand of the Solar Absolute Meridian chains.
Vrrrrm!
Concentrating the energy in his hands, he swung the long blade—the great serpent.
How much time passed?
"More usable than I thought."
After training to test its length and feel, Ian gave a short evaluation.
As a sword rather than chains like the Golden Heavenly Chains, it had the drawback of a more limited range.
But the blade's sharp edge promised superior lethality.
As he wore a satisfied expression,
Shrieeek!
The great serpent's blade tip, returning to position, suddenly thrust toward Ian's throat.
Clang!
Ian naturally parried it with the lesser serpent.
"...Hmm. So that's how it is?"
It seemed taming this cheeky twin-sword would take a little time.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Tap, tap, tap!
It was a night with a full moon hanging high.
The man gazing at the sky from his window had a face so perfectly sculpted it could be a painting.
Plagued by worries, he tapped the railing lightly with his fingers while leaning against it, staring at the brightly shining moon.
"Hmm... troublesome. Very troublesome. If you keep making your presence known like that... how can I not pay attention?"
The man recalled his incompetent brother's performance from a few days ago.
The Weapon Orb at the Gate Opening Ceremony.
In front of the clan's top elites, his worthless brother had acquired a weapon beyond expectations—beyond his level.
It was unexpected, but not a big deal.
When the man had undergone his own ceremony, he'd chosen something from an even deeper chamber.
So there was no real reason to fret over his brother slightly outperforming his station.
Yet, for some reason.
...Tap!
His finger, endlessly drumming the railing, stopped.
"...It bothers me."
Lately, everything related to his brother felt like a fishbone stuck in his throat.
Normally, his brother should've been buried in the nearby hills the night before the ceremony.
Normally, after Yohan's visit—having 'understood' his mutterings—the brother should've vanished without a trace.
Normally, he should've crashed and burned with a pathetic showing at the ceremony.
But.
His brother was still alive.
Yohan, who had acted on his words, had quietly vanished.
And at the ceremony, while not earning admiration, he'd at least drawn surprise.
Yes.
They were all trivial matters.
Far better to focus on the heirs from branches and vassal families—mere trifles in succession.
But.
"If trivial things keep piling up, they're no longer trivial."
The moment he'd first sensed something off about his brother.
Alex remembered that exact instant.
When he hugged Ian returning from the hills.
His idiot brother, who always showered him with blind trust, had acted with uncanny boldness.
Though fleeting, Alex hadn't missed that aura.
"...Clever little thing. Yes, the blood of the Lichtenauer Clan flows in you too, after all."
He hadn't expected claws hidden until right before the ceremony.
If he'd fooled even Alex completely, how much more the others?
If it was true, Ian's depths were beyond imagination.
"Hmm..."
Tap, tap!
Alex closed his eyes again and resumed tapping the railing.
'I don't know what's going on... but with Yohan gone, the chance to quietly clean it up has passed. So what now...'
After much deliberation, Alex reached a conclusion.
"Alright, Ian. Let's judge you properly. Whether these recent events are coincidences... or if you're truly a lion hiding its claws."
The next morning, as the moon set and the sun rose, Alex set off early for the Patriarch's hall.