My name is Rian.
Since childhood, I was destined to live in the shadows of others. My father was a servant, my mother died young, and the only inheritance they left me was an obligation. To serve the Kaelthorn family.
This family is one of the Kingdom's Seven Pillars, renowned for knights and mages who have dominated battlefields for centuries. From generation to generation, the Kaelthorn name is praised as conquerors of monsters and protectors of the realm. In every generation, a genius is always born, one who breaks through to Aura Level 7 before the age of thirty, or a Circle 6 mage who shakes the magic academies.
Yet that pride is tarnished by one name: Leonel Kaelthorn.
Our Young Master. The legitimate heir of the main bloodline. The only son of Duke Kaelthorn. And the single greatest disgrace in the entire kingdom.
Why? Because he was born with no talent for aura or mana.
In this world, ordinary people can still live peaceful lives as farmers or merchants. But for nobles, power is everything. A knight without aura is like a blunt sword. A mage without mana is like a broken staff. Leonel should have been the family's pride, but in reality, he was nothing but useless trash who couldn't even activate level 1 aura.
The problem was, instead of being humble or striving to compensate for his shortcomings, Leonel transformed into a monster with a human face. He vented his frustrations on those weaker than him. Including us, the servants.
That day, my bad luck struck again.
"Rian! Get over here, you slow fool!"
The voice was deafening. I ran to the family's training hall, where Leonel stood gripping a wooden practice sword. His face was handsome, like his noble mother's, but his gaze was sharp and full of hatred.
"Get me a heavier training sword. I want to defeat my cousin in sparring later."
I nodded, bowed my head, and ran to the weapon rack. The heavy swords for the Level 3 knights were there. I lifted it with great effort and carried it over to Leonel.
He reached out, trying to swing the sword. Instantly, his hand trembled, the veins in his arm bulged, and the sword fell, clattering onto the floor.
The room fell silent for a moment.
I knew what was coming.
The Young Master stared at me with blazing red eyes. "You're laughing at me, aren't you?"
"N... No, Young Master."
It was too late. A wooden blow struck my cheek, making me stagger. The taste of blood filled my mouth, and the world spun.
"Stupid brat! If it weren't for you bringing this heavy sword, I definitely could have swung it properly!"
I wanted to scream that the sword was indeed too heavy for him. Even talented young knights would struggle. But my voice was buried by pain and fear.
"Clean all this up! If I lose the sparring match later, I'll make sure you're beaten crippled!"
He left the room with arrogant steps, even though his shoulders trembled from being unable to bear the sword's weight.
I collapsed, holding my bruised cheek. No one came to help. The other servants just bowed their heads, pretending to be busy with their own tasks. Everyone knew that anyone who interfered would receive a worse punishment.
That was Leonel Kaelthorn. The trash who became the Young Master.
That night, I sat in the servants' quarters. A small torch on the wall cast a dim light. I dabbed the wound on my face with a wet cloth. The injury was familiar. I was immune to it by now. What hurt more was the reality that I lived only to be a punching bag for a failed noble.
Some young servants whispered.
"They say the Young Master will spar at the academy tomorrow."
"Against his cousin who's already Aura Rank 2? Hahaha, he'll definitely be humiliated."
"Get ready, Rian. If he loses, you'll be the target again."
I bowed my head without answering. They were right.
Sometimes I ask myself: why am I trapped here? Why must I serve a scoundrel who isn't even worthy of being called a knight?
But I can't run. I'm just a lowly servant. My family has no power. Even if I escaped, the family knights would hunt me to the ends of the earth.
I have no choice.
The next day, the sparring match was held in the Kaelthorn mansion's main courtyard. I stood at the edge of the arena, preparing towels and water for the Young Master.
Leonel entered the arena with a face full of confidence, though I knew it was just a mask. Across from him, his cousin Ardan was waiting. Ardan was the same age but had already reached Aura Rank 2. His sword emitted a faint glow, proof of the aura flowing within it.
"Ready to be humiliated again, Leonel?" Ardan sneered.
Leonel didn't answer. He just gripped his wooden sword, trying to suppress the trembling in his hand.
The fight began.
Instantly, Leonel staggered, defeated in just three moves. His sword was sent flying, his body thrown to the ground. Laughter erupted around the arena. The young nobles watching mocked the family heir.
I closed my eyes, because I knew what awaited me that night.
That day, after the humiliation, Leonel went on a rampage. All the servants in the mansion were terrified. He threw plates, smashed chairs, and slapped anyone who passed by.
I got the worst of it. He kicked me repeatedly until I nearly vomited blood.
That night, when he finally stopped and entered his room, I could only lie in the corridor, staring at the dark ceiling.
"Why am I trapped in this hell..." I whispered softly.
I didn't know that night was the beginning of everything.
Because on that night, Leonel Kaelthorn, the trash who couldn't activate aura or mana, would be jolted from his long slumber.
And when he opened his eyes the next morning, he would no longer be the same.