"Thank you very much for the meal."
At the courteous bow of Lord Seolam, Freon, Father Kavel shook his head as he replied.
"Not at all. It was only natural. You've taken care of my son, after all."
"That was only to be expected. I am now Ruin's guardian."
"Haha, next time you visit, I'll treat you again."
"Your words alone are more than enough. Then, I shall return in three years' time…."
Freon answered politely, then paused, his eyes showing a trace of hesitation before he spoke again in a solemn tone.
"Kavel young master."
"No, there's no need to call me that."
"Regardless, you are still a son of the Linegraim bloodline. Calling you young master is only proper."
"But I already left the family…."
Just as a slight dispute was about to begin between the two—
"I ate well, Daisy. I'll be counting on you again next time."
"What do you mean, next time! Get lost already, Pigon! If you show up in front of me again, I swear I'll—"
The bickering of the Kaphtalen siblings suddenly broke out, drowning the smaller quarrel entirely.
Ignoring Daisy, Pigon turned his eyes to Kavel alone and asked.
"Kehahaha. Brother-in-law, you'll call me back again next time, won't you?"
"Of course, brother-in-law!"
Kavel answered with a faint smile and a nod.
"Good. Then next time we'll drink until our noses are crooked. Hey, nephew. I'll see you again later."
"Yes, take care, uncle. And you too, Palton."
"Uh, oh. Yeah…"
Still unable to recover from the shock, Palton Everon replied vaguely, his eyes dazed at Ruin's words.
Thwack!
"You brat, when your younger cousin greets you, answer him properly. Sorry about that, Ruin. I'll make sure to teach him better."
With Pigon's grumble, accompanied by a smack to Palton's head, the rowdy members of the Linegraim and Kaphtalen households finally took their leave.
At last, only the true family remained.
"Finally, it's over."
Squeeze—
Suddenly, Daisy hugged Ruin tightly from behind.
"Ruiiin."
"You worked hard, dear. You too, Ruin."
Watching the sight, Kavel's voice softened as he called their names and embraced them as well.
"Mother, Father…."
Within their long-missed embrace, Ruin could only smile gently as he felt their warmth seep into him.
[Tch, get off already. Disgusting!]
Of course, Sword Soul was there to ruin the mood, as always.
Just as the family seemed about to enjoy a heartwarming ending together, Mother Daisy's sharp yet casual voice cut in.
"Now then, shall we have a proper talk, Ruin?"
"Yes?"
"Start from the sword tournament. Don't leave anything out. Tell us everything—about your duel with Palton, too. First of all, who told you to accept the match? Was it your father, by any chance?"
Casting a side-glance at Kavel as she asked, he quickly waved his hands in protest, sounding utterly wronged.
"Huh? What are you talking about? It wasn't me! You saw it yourself. I swear I'm innocent!"
"Buurp. It's been a while since I've had a proper feast. Feels good, doesn't it?"
Letting out a long burp, Pigon wore a satisfied grin as he addressed his followers.
The magicians of the Myunghwandang laughed and jeered in response.
"Pfft, that was a feast? Really, boss?"
"Wasn't it more like we just raided them?"
"Pretty much, yeah."
Unlike their mocking words, however, Palton remained silent, head bowed, lost in deep thought.
"Hey, son."
"Yes, Lord."
"Lord? Just call me father."
"…Yes, Father."
"What's going on in that head of yours? Sitting there without so much as a word. Still sulking because you lost to that little brat?"
"N-no. Forgive me."
Hurriedly reacting to Pigon's question, Palton lowered his head, brushing at his pocket.
"I didn't ask to hear apologies, so don't waste your breath. Tell me—how does it feel?"
"…What?"
"How does it feel to be beaten so thoroughly by a cousin you'd never even met before?"
Pigon chuckled wickedly as he asked.
"Hey, boss, don't you think that's too much?"
"Yeah, that's going too far!"
"Kids fight, sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. Why grill him like that?"
"Exactly. And it wasn't even skill—he just got unlucky this time."
"Hey, who was it that said luck is a skill too? Kekeke."
The other magicians joined in, scolding Pigon half-heartedly, though their smirks betrayed that they agreed with him.
"Quiet! Admit it—you're curious too, aren't you? That arrogant brat, getting trounced by someone younger. Wasn't it hilarious? Heheheh."
Pigon burst into raucous laughter, mocking Palton's defeat.
"Aww, don't mind him, Palton."
"Yeah, you're still the pride of the Myunghwandang."
"He's just stirring up trouble again."
"Don't take it to heart, kid. A fight can be won or lost. What matters is surviving to laugh in the end!"
The others tried to offer words of comfort, but even they couldn't hide their amusement.
Palton, however, stayed silent. He knew from experience that reacting here would only give them more fuel to torment him.
Instead—
Ruin Linegraim.
Palton quietly recalled the boy's face.
That innocent expression, those clear eyes that seemed to pierce through everything.
The genius who sensed his barrier and revealed talent in handling mana.
And then—
Though clumsy and full of mistakes at first, midway through the duel, there had been something else.
Death. That was the only word that came to mind.
Yes. He had seen nothing but mistakes, foolishness. Yet, at one point—
No… it must've been my imagination.
Ruin's behavior had been too inconsistent. Palton convinced himself that the crushing fear and suffocating pressure he had felt was simply his own overreaction, caught off guard in an unexpected situation.
After all—
That couldn't have been killing intent from a child.
No matter how gifted, no matter how monstrous his talent, it was impossible for a boy to radiate such an aura.
Such a presence could only be born of countless battles, of blood-soaked experience.
Even if the child had gained some miraculous power, imitating that aura was beyond possibility.
And yet—
But what if, by some one-in-a-billion chance, everything I felt was truly his own power?
A shiver shot down his spine, leaving his hair standing on end. Palton quickly shook his head, forcing the thought away.
No. Impossible. That's absurd.
Repeating those words to himself, he finally spoke aloud.
"He was… not an ordinary child. Yes, remarkable."
"What? Remarkable? Haha. Are you saying you're admitting defeat to a new genius? But all he did was blunder around."
Pigon laughed, sneering at him, but Palton only shook his head and answered softly.
"Whether it was mistakes or luck, I still lost. He won. I am simply judging the boy as I saw him."
"Oh? Is that so?"
"Yes."
"So that's why your eyes were shining while you whispered with him?"
"…?!"
Palton's heart skipped. In Pigon's gaze, heavy and sharp, he felt a disturbing sense—
Did he hear everything?
It was as though Pigon knew exactly what he and Ruin had talked about.
Then, Pigon spoke again.
"You, who never show interest in anyone, actually talked with him so intently. What did you say to get so lost in it?"
"I-it was nothing much. I only noticed the child's magical potential and advised him to walk that path."
"Oh, advice, was it?"
"Yes. You even overheard it yourself, did you not?"
"True. I did hear something like that."
Pigon nodded firmly, agreeing.
But as he did, Palton instinctively brushed his pocket again.
The winged serpent, Cortellus—this must remain an absolute secret. No one can know.
He had devoted everything to his revenge, to settling his grudges. And the lesson he had learned was clear—
Trust no one.
Not even his foster father, Pigon, who had saved his life and shown him great favor.
So Palton swiftly steered the conversation elsewhere.
"Ruin, that boy. Have you thought of bringing him into our family?"
"What?"
"With that much potential, he could—"
"Forget it."
"…?"
"If I so much as tried, do you think Daisy would sit still?"
"Ah."
"I couldn't handle that. I'd rather storm the main altar of the Black Serpent Cult instead."
At Pigon's mention of the Black Serpent Cult, one of the Nine Pillars and a notorious group on the continent, Palton shook his head.
The Four Heavens and Nine Provinces—the thirteen great powers that dominated the continent—were divided broadly into two alignments: white and black.
Among the white forces were Linegraim of the North Sword, Paterion of the West Wing, Ellation of the Southern Empire, Kaphtalen, and the Serion Tower.
On the black side were East Star Kapalan, the Black Serpent Cult, the Blood Covenant, and the Zephon Tower.
Though they generally avoided clashing, the Black Serpent Cult's reckless zealots often provoked conflicts across the continent.
"Then you'll just leave him for the Linegraims?"
"Hm?"
"The sword he used against me. Wasn't it gained from their sword tournament?"
Palton spoke slyly, seemingly pricking at Pigon's pride.
But Pigon only shrugged.
"Well, that's his choice. Our job is simply to make sure we offer an alternative, so no one can say we didn't. That's all."
Then he draped an arm around Palton's shoulders, continuing with a grin.
"You were once called a genius yourself, so you'd know—your cousin is no ordinary brat. Stay close to him. After all, he's the one who beat you."
"That's…"
Palton faltered, unable to answer.
The truth was, his feelings toward Ruin were conflicted.
If he had another chance to fight him—if he didn't let his guard down this time—
I could win… couldn't I?
He told himself yes, but a lingering unease gnawed at him still.
No, it was luck. Pure luck. That's all it was.
Crack.
Grinding his teeth, Palton made up his mind.
Next time, I will win. No matter what.
At that moment, Pigon's voice cut in again.
"Who knows? He might end up being useful to what you want most."
"…?"
As if he had read Palton's innermost thoughts, Pigon muttered with a sly smile, before turning to shout at the others.
"That goes for you lot too! Treat my sister and brother-in-law as family. Don't cause any pointless bloodshed later."
"..."
Palton said nothing. He only stared quietly at his foster father Pigon, his eyes filled with tangled, conflicting emotions.
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T/N:
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