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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: Command of the New Strike Team
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Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!
The log gripped in the old butler's hands soared into the sky.
Screeeeech!
The boy swung his sword toward the flying log.
Twin swords danced after the boy's hands, slicing through the irregular barrage of logs.
Slashslashslash! Crunch!
The ironwood grown near the Great Tree Sea—renowned for its toughness—shattered its bark under the boy's blade as if it were nothing.
"Phewww..."
As the boy settled his crimson aura and caught his breath, the butler approached and handed him a towel.
"Well done, Young Master Ian."
"Ah, thanks, Hans."
Ian took Hans's towel and wiped the sweat from his drenched face.
The butler stared intently at Ian.
"...I can hardly believe my eyes. I don't know much about martial arts, but even I can tell that improving this quickly is extraordinarily rare."
"...Pfft! Yeah, let's go with that."
Ian gave a faint smile at Hans's words.
Hans, not knowing martial arts? What a lame joke.
Without dwelling on it, Ian spoke to Hans.
"Well, it's been a while since the Gate Opening Ceremony. If I want to pull my weight as a person, I gotta step it up now, right?"
Indeed.
A full month had passed since the Gate Opening Ceremony.
In that month, Ian's daily routine had been incredibly simple.
At night, in secluded hours, he circulated the Blood Luo Iron Chain Technique to loosen the chains binding his Sun Absolute Meridian, pioneering Mana Roads for Blood Luo True Qi to flow through.
By day, he recalled the feel of wielding the Golden Heaven Chain and swung the Twin-Headed Blood Serpent to make it an extension of his body.
Repeating that simple regimen had let Ian wield the Twin-Headed Blood Serpent like a limb.
He'd even succeeded in unraveling one more strand of the twisted meridian chains.
Accomplishing all this in just a month made it no wonder Hans was shocked at the unnatural pace.
Of course, to Lucas—who had once risen to conquer the North Continent as the Overlord—it was still pathetically weak.
Splash!
After afternoon training, Ian sank into the bathtub, warm water overflowing onto the floor.
His body, which had seemed ready to collapse at a touch when he first crawled from the grave, was finally starting to gain some muscle.
Soaking in the tub, Ian methodically loosened his knotted training muscles as he thought.
'It's about time for something to happen.'
Completing the Gate Opening Ceremony meant he was now a proper warrior of House Lichtenauer.
In other words, as a family member, it was time to do his part and contribute.
Put simply, it was time to earn his keep.
This was an ironclad rule for all in House Lichtenauer, direct or branch family alike.
With monsters from the Great Tree Sea—who split the South Continent—constantly eyeing chances to invade Aslan Kingdom, they couldn't afford dead weight filling the ranks.
'Well, the one digging the well is the thirsty one.'
To Ian, being left alone was even better.
He needed every bit of time to build his strength.
Ian had something he absolutely had to do.
...Grind!
Thinking of certain faces—especially the most infuriating one—made Ian's teeth grind harshly.
'...Siegfried Dufer.'
The fox who incited the continent's people, crushed his empire, and stole everything he'd built.
And he wasn't the only one who needed smashing.
The Saintess of the West Continent Holy Kingdom, the Sword Saint of the East Continent Khan Empire, Kaidu Ballak too.
They turned the empire he and his subordinates had dreamed of and achieved into a mirage overnight.
This time, he would dismantle everything they'd piled up over a decade.
And rebuild the Alexandros Empire in the North Continent.
For that grand plan, above all, he needed power.
Not mere strength, but overwhelming might to shake the entire continent.
If the house didn't assign him a mission, he'd slowly dominate the Sun Absolute Meridian with Blood Luo Iron Chain Technique and refine his internals.
If a mission came, he'd hone his rusty combat instincts in real battle.
Either way, Ian would sharpen himself to fit the situation.
What frustrated him was this nagging itch at the back of his neck, neither here nor there.
"...No rushing."
Siegfried's empire wouldn't crumble in a day.
Nor would the Saintess or Sword Saint fall tomorrow.
Achieving his goals might take ten years—or decades.
Impatience would only lead to failure, fading like before.
Splash!
Sorting his thoughts, Ian finished bathing and stepped out. Hans, waiting outside, offered another towel.
"You took extra long with your bath today, Young Master."
"Needed to cool my head a bit. Why, something up?"
"A message from the Family Head's Residence. It said to come immediately upon reading it."
"Really?"
Ian nodded at Hans's words, dried off, dressed neatly, and headed to the Family Head's Residence.
'Speak of the devil.'
Looks like he couldn't play nice forever.
Before the audience chamber of the Family Head's Residence.
After checking his attire, Ian approached. The knights guarding the door slowly opened it.
Inside the vast chamber, three people welcomed him.
Family Head Paon Lichtenauer, the extraordinary old mage who handled artifacts, Nedyr.
And the last was Eldest Young Master Alex Lichtenauer.
"Oh! Ian, you made it!"
Alex greeted him first with a gentle voice and smile.
"I heard you've been deep in training lately. Truly commendable. I hope I didn't interrupt?"
Alex patted Ian's shoulder lightly with a pleased smile.
But to Ian, it rang entirely different.
After all, since the Gate Opening Ceremony, Ian hadn't once stepped outside his residence.
For Alex to know that exactly...
'A warning.'
—You're in my palm anyway. Don't get any funny ideas.
What childish intimidation.
A scoff nearly escaped, but Ian calmly replied, masking his thoughts.
"I've completed the Gate Opening Ceremony, haven't I? Though I'm still lacking, I'm now a proper warrior of House Lichtenauer. Better late than never—I'll strive not to shame the family name from here on."
"Hahaha! Excellent attitude!"
Pleased with the response, Alex laughed heartily and turned to Paon, who had been listening quietly.
"Father, see? I told you—Ian is changing. With him thinking so commendably, please don't view my opinion too negatively."
"Hmmm..."
Paon's brow furrowed with three deep lines, something clearly displeasing him.
But soon, deeming Alex's words reasonable, he reluctantly turned to Ian.
"Ian, are you willing to take charge of one of the new strike teams?"
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
'...Take charge of a new strike team?'
To him, fresh off the Gate Opening Ceremony—no proper training to boot?
What nonsense was this, like an orc munching grass?
Stunned by Paon's unexpected question, Ian hesitated. Paon asked again.
"What, you don't want to?"
"N-no, it's not that. But isn't it too soon for me to lead a strike team...?"
Ian's retort was perfectly reasonable.
House Lichtenauer's fame across Agena stemmed from steadily building experience from the bottom, regardless of direct or branch lines.
That wealth of experience made the house strong.
Naturally, Ian expected to start as a lowly member in one strike team.
That was the house's standard judgment.
Even if Alex schemed to make it tough, Ian figured it'd be the roughest unit like the Fierce Ghost Squad, or the frontline Blood Wolf Squad facing the Great Tree Sea.
But leading an entire strike team was another matter.
Each strike team captain was recognized as a house executive.
Leading a group was no small feat.
Even if he'd aced the ceremony a bit better than expected, Ian knew his current house evaluation best.
'What's your game, Alex?'
Mistaking Ian's probing for hesitation, Paon added,
"If you're not confident, you can refuse."
To block any refusal, Alex spoke first.
"Hahaha! Father, be more precise. You're scaring him."
Smooth!
Alex turned to Ian, his face free of greed or malice.
"Ian, don't overthink it. I saw your potential in the ceremony. Others ignore it, but your talent inside the Weapon Orb's barrier was exceptional. This new strike team will gather kids like you—young warriors with outstanding talent and strong self-belief. The house's future."
On the surface, the ideal brother believing in his lacking sibling to the end.
"In time, everyone will see. That putting you in charge was fair, not favoritism."
...Sure.
'Only if I really do 'well.''
They'll see in time?
Sounds great on the surface.
But only if he delivered results.
Overwhelming results no one could nitpick.
Otherwise, it'd be branded as favoritism from the Family Head.
Alex's scheme was obvious to Paon from the start, but he couldn't outright refuse.
Ian had shown above-expected ability in the ceremony.
Assigning the capable to fitting roles—that was the Family Head's virtue.
Starting a second son who chose an extraordinary weapon as a regular grunt? That could be seen as reverse favoritism.
A stretch, maybe.
But Alex had ample sway to push that stretch.
Of course, if Paon stamped it down hard, no one would dare oppose.
But Alex had his ace: Paon had never intervened in heir struggles.
He saw such infighting as trials to become Lichtenauer lord.
Thus, despite knowing all, Paon accepted Alex's proposal.
As it was heir strife.
'Ian, if you truly have something... you'll see through Alex.'
Against Paon's hopes, Ian nodded eagerly, as if he'd been waiting.
"To think Brother believes in me like this... Understood. I'll deliver results you'll be satisfied with."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
'Right on plan.'
Alex fought back a leaking grin at Ian's acceptance.
Ian's strike team would gather all the troublemakers deemed headaches by direct and branch families.
'This'll test him plenty.'
Fail to control it, and Ian's rep hits rock bottom—proving Alex right.
If he succeeded? Fine too—proof Ian had hidden his claws.
Ian gains mild surprise and a handful of fringe warriors expelled or treated as such.
The perfect low-cost test.
'Ian. Show me what you're really capable of.'
Whatever Alex's intent, Ian's reason for accepting was simple.
'Why refuse when he's handing me a strike team?'
He'd ruled an empire.
Refining one strike team into elites was no big deal.
'I planned to swallow this house for my own forces anyway.'
Overthrowing an existing captain was doable but tricky—loyalty to old bonds.
But building a new one? Tough start, but unbreakable bonds later.
Thus, amid Alex and Ian's crossed dreams, Ian's mind summed up neatly:
'Strike team—thanks for the meal.'
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