Jolin felt like banging her head against the wall. But now that he finally looked at her, she bit her lip and kept acting, whispering in a soft, trembling voice:
"What… what are you going to do with me?"
She fixed him with a pitiful, helpless gaze.
Dwight smiled. His eyes swept over her body, and the hint of mockery in them sent a chill down her spine. She could tell — this young noble looked at her body with pure amusement, not the slightest trace of lust.
Then a shadow flew over her, covering her completely. She struggled free and found a bedsheet tossed casually over her, hiding her tempting figure from sight.
"I get distracted when a half-naked woman watches me while I'm working on something serious." Dwight's tone was calm, as if stating a simple fact. He glanced at her lightly. "Whatever you're trying, your little act just now was terrible. I have other things to do. If you still want to seduce me, you'd better think of a better trick."
Jolin felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over her head!
This teenage boy — his eyes, his tone… God in heaven, this was no child! From his steady, composed gaze, she could tell he was far more experienced with women than she was.
Dwight settled into a comfortable position, pulled out a small magnifying glass, and began examining the patterns on the leather armor closely. He even took out paper and a pen, copying down the magic runes, then closed his eyes and thought carefully.
Jolin said nothing the whole time. She racked her brains trying to figure out this young noble's intentions, yet could not help studying him curiously.
This pale, delicate boy looked so young, but his words and eyes carried the air of someone who knew women inside and out.
"I'm curious about all three of your weapons." Dwight spoke without looking up, still focused on the enchanted armor. "The patterns on this armor are magic runes — strength enchantment and agility enchantment. Judging by the material, this piece is quite old. In my opinion, it's worth more as an antique than as a weapon. Also, there's a family crest here. If my memory serves me, this crest belongs to a house under the Stuttgart lineage in the north. The Stuttgarts came from an ancient family that rose to power during the empire's renaissance three hundred years ago, but declined over a century later, splitting into eight or so minor branches. This armor must have come from some noble house in the northern empire…"
Jolin sat frozen in her chair, stunned by his casual, confident words.
"As for your curved sword… well, girls aren't naturally suited for curved blades — they require strong wrists. Only the foreign tribes of the northwest favor this weapon. As for you…"
Dwight looked up and glanced at her casually.
"Your brown hair and blue eyes mark you as pure southern Roland stock. You have no northwest tribal blood. I don't know how skilled you are with weapons, but from your performance in the fight earlier… you're better suited for a sword. Fortunately, the armor boosts your strength, so you can barely wield the curved sword. Still… it's wasted on you." He smiled. "There's a magic crystal in the hilt that stores power, and the blade is carved with wind magic runes. A skilled warrior could unleash wind blades with this sword… something you're clearly not capable of."
Jolin was dumbfounded!
Every word was perfectly true!
The armor had indeed been a gift from that lustful northern baron. The curved sword came from a mercenary captain obsessed with her — a man of the northwest tribes!
Dwight rubbed his brow and looked at her.
"What intrigues me most is your anti-magic bow…"
He slowly laid the silver bow on the table and smiled.
"The stripes on the bow are vertical slanted runes — in heraldry, they represent Moon Power. From what I've read, the only ancient family that used the moon as their totem was the **Moon Clan**. They flourished seven hundred years ago, ruling half the continent at their peak, worshipping the Moon Goddess. Unfortunately, their kingdom fell during the continental wars centuries ago. The Roland Empire unified the land, and the Moon Clan was wiped out… extinct, so to speak."
His fingers stroked the smooth silver bow, his eyes playful.
"I find it strange. You, the leader of a tiny adventurer party, with third-rate combat skills, own three precious enchanted weapons. One from the north, one from the northwest, and one from an extinct ancient clan. Who… exactly are you?"
If Dwight's old tutor, the learned scholar Rosiat, had heard this, he would have been bursting with pride in his student — and furious that such a boy was labeled an "idiot".
Dwight's simple words showed mastery of heraldry, clan lore, totem studies, and continental history. Even the old scholar himself could not have identified the origins of the weapons on sight! Dwight spoke without checking a single book — all that knowledge was locked firmly in his mind.
Jolin's head was spinning with shock.
"How… how do you know all this?" she stammered.
"Books." Dwight set down the bow and smiled. "Books hold all of humanity's knowledge. Knowledge is the light that guides mankind forward. I've been reading these books since I was six."
"Six?" Jolin whispered. "You must be a genius… you've read so many?"
"Quite a few." Dwight smiled. "But I'm no genius. Once, I hated reading, hated studying."
"Then why…" Jolin blurted out, then realized this was hardly the time for casual conversation.
Dwight did not mind. He smiled and murmured softly, almost to himself:
"There's a story. A fine porcelain shop. The owner spent years crafting a beautiful new piece, but a stranger accidentally broke it. The stranger felt guilty, so he vowed to make a new one to repay the owner… yes, that's it. Repayment."
"Repayment?" Jolin was confused.
Dwight smiled and looked at his captive. "You seem more interested in other people's stories. If I were you, I'd be more worried about my own situation."
"But you don't mind talking to me about it."
"Oh, that's because you're a pretty girl… with lovely legs." Dwight shrugged casually. "Most men can't help talking more when they're with a beautiful woman. It's only natural."
Jolin gritted her teeth. A sense of powerlessness washed over her. Faced with this young noble, she felt like the child, not him. Every word, every smile, every glance seemed unfathomable… as if his calm eyes could see straight through her.
"What are you going to do with me?" Jolin asked, resigned.
Dwight smiled. "Weren't you trying to seduce me just now? Why don't you try again?"
Jolin's heart skipped a beat. What did he mean?
Looking at his smile, she felt a flicker of hope rekindle.
Dwight stood up and walked slowly toward her. His fingers gently touched her face, feeling the softness of her skin.
His touch was light, sliding down her cheek to her long neck, then slipping under the bedsheet covering her and resting lightly on her shoulder. His fingers were slender and soft, nothing like the rough eagerness of other men — it was calm, deliberate… teasing.
Yes, teasing. Like a cat toying with a captured mouse.
Jolin trembled under his touch, closing her eyes and letting out a soft gasp.
Suddenly, Dwight ripped the bedsheet off her.
Jolin squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for what was to come.
But then — her bound wrists went slack!
The rawhide had been sliced clean through.
Dwight held a shining small knife, stepped back with a smile.
"All right. You may leave whenever you wish. My men won't stop you. You may take your other companions too — except your mage friend. He stays."
Jolin stared at him in shock. "You're letting me go?"
"Yes." Dwight smiled casually. "I'm only interested in your mage companion. As for your three enchanted weapons, I've finished studying them. You may take them back."
Jolin was more confused than ever. "But you… you attacked us in the tavern…"
"I told you — I'm interested in magic, not you." Dwight said flatly. "I'm busy and tired. You may leave now and don't disturb me. I don't like being watched while I sleep."
He stepped back and pointed to the door, a clear dismissal.
Jolin felt as if she were dreaming. She took the knife from Dwight, cut the rawhide around her ankles, and stretched her stiff limbs. She reached the door, still dazed.
"Oh, and one more thing. Since we've met, I'll give you a piece of advice, if you don't mind." Dwight's voice came from behind her.
"W-what advice?" Jolin stammered, her tone unexpectedly respectful.
"You." Dwight smiled softly. "A girl like you should find a good man to marry, settle down in a quiet countryside village with an honest minor noble, and live a peaceful life.
A friend of mine once said: the world is a dangerous place. Those who live by the sword, die by the sword. It's hard for a girl to survive alone. If you don't want to marry, find another path. A woman is like a vine — she's better off leaning on a strong tree.
I imagine there are very few members of the Moon Clan left alive in this world."
Jolin's body shook. "The Moon Clan? What are you saying?"
"Exactly that. The Moon Clan, worshippers of the Moon Goddess." Dwight smiled. "I've seen it. Your ring finger is longer than your index finger. And at the back of your head, your skull is slightly raised. Those are the classic physical traits of pure Moon Clan blood, written in my books. Those two signs alone don't prove it… but you also own a weapon bearing the Moon Clan totem. Can you really deny it?"
For the first time in her life, Jolin felt as if she had run headfirst into a stone wall.
Even when facing greedy, lustful nobles or brutal mercenary leaders, she had never felt so powerless.
Could this young noble really see straight into the deepest secrets of a person's heart?
And that smile… that pale, delicate face, that indifferent, carefree grin…
He looked like a devil.
---
Watching the long-legged girl leave in a daze, Dwight sighed and began packing his books.
Just then, his loyal servant Mad knocked and entered, looking hesitant.
"Young master, are you ready to rest? Do you need anything? You didn't eat much tonight."
Dwight smiled at Mad's ambiguous expression. He knew Mad had been waiting outside the whole time, and had hurried in as soon as the girl left.
Aside from his mother, Mad was probably the only person in this world who truly cared for him.
"Nothing… oh, Mad. How much gold is left in my private purse?"
"A full thousand gold coins." Mad's eyes lit up at the mention of money. "This was given to you privately by the Countess before we left the capital, young master. I've kept it safe!"
Dwight thought for a moment, then said quietly:
"I hear Cote Province is famous for Water Orchid Diamonds. When we arrive, buy some for me. I'll send them back to Mother."
"Her Ladyship will be delighted!" Mad smiled, then could not help muttering:
"Young master, you're so clever… others may not know, but I do. If the Count and Countess knew the truth, they'd be so proud of you. But… why…"
"Why do I let everyone think I'm an idiot?" Dwight finished for him.
Mad flinched and bowed his head, but still whispered:
"Young Master Gabriel is called a genius, but you… sigh. If it weren't for you, I doubt Gabriel's tutor is any good. I've seen you visit Gabriel, and I've seen you teach him how to write… genius? Hah!"
"Enough, Mad. I'm tired. You may leave." Dwight blinked and smiled. "We have a long journey tomorrow."
Watching his loyal servant leave, still unwilling to accept it, Dwight slowly sat down in his chair and stretched.
Sigh… an idiot?
Let them call me an idiot.
I don't belong to this world, after all.
The kind, beautiful Countess had no idea that he was merely occupying her first son's body. It was a takeover, a cold, unwitting theft.
In a way, he owed the Rollin family. Especially that noble woman — he owed her a good son.
And the Count… his so-called father.
Well, he had secretly used his wits to give them a "genius" son, then quietly left. That was his way of repaying the debt.
Gabriel… he hoped the boy would make them happy.
Now that he'd left the capital, he no longer had to sneak into the boy's room to teach him in secret.
He'd never had the patience for babysitting.
To become a secret tutor for his younger brother, he'd studied and read like crazy over the years, seizing every chance to quietly pass on what he'd learned.
He had to do it in secret, of course. His father had acted as if "idiocy" was contagious, terrified Dwight would "infect" the promising younger son.
He'd studied harder than he ever had in his old world.
When four-year-old Gabriel first wrote his own name and showed their parents… the delighted Count had no idea that his "idiot" elder son had spent countless quiet hours teaching the boy.
He'd even turned heavy history lessons into stories to make them easier for the young boy to understand. In that way, he supposed he was a natural teacher.
An idiot? Hmph. To someone who didn't belong in this world at all…
Did he care?
Not one bit.
He owed them, yes. But he could never truly accept another pair of parents in his heart.
After doing what he could to repay them, leaving quietly was the best choice.
Exile… honestly, it wasn't so bad.
Gabriel, you'd better work hard.
I won't be sneaking into your room late at night to tell you stories anymore.
I won't turn those boring combat formulas into songs to help you remember them.
He still remembered the first time little Gabriel sang those combat rules aloud — easier to memorize that way. The Count had been overjoyed, praising the boy as a genius.
He would never know it was all the work of his "idiot" elder son.
I took your son from you.
And I did everything I could to give you a genius in return.
Rollin family… this is my small repayment.