Chapter 3 - The One-Month Reprieve
"A Month of Grace"
Lucian Vael could hardly believe his ears.
"Fire…magic?"
That word was more shocking than even the declaration of his expulsion.
His mouth fell open without thinking.
"From the Vael family?"
What kind of family was the Vael?
A house that had survived stubbornly on the frontier since the days when ice magic was despised.
A house that, with the appearance of Eldryn, began to elevate its standing until it proudly rose to claim a place among the four great noble families.
It had even toppled one of the fire-magic houses that had once occupied two of those seats.
"Surely this isn't the Vael family I know…"
With a faint hope, he glanced hurriedly at the family head's belt.
But the crest engraved on the head's insignia was exactly the same as the Vael family emblem he remembered.
"What in the world happened?"
The fact that the consciousness of Eldryn—who had fought Desmond to the death and finally perished—had awoken in the Vael family two hundred years later was already a staggering thing to process and accept in such a short span of time.
If he hadn't been Eldryn—the man who could calmly analyze any battlefield and always find the best move—it might have been impossible.
But even he could not completely maintain his composure upon hearing the word "fire magic" spoken in the family he had devoted his life to establishing as the house of ice magic.
"What happened to the family…"
A thousand thoughts were chasing each other through his mind—but only for a moment.
"Ahem."
Lucian stood there, mouth open, staring at the head.
Blake Vael cleared his throat.
"…Forgive me. I understand."
Lucian bowed his head at once.
"Right…this was about expulsion."
He had been so stunned by that single word—fire magic—that he'd momentarily forgotten.
Lucian Vael was now to be cast out of the Vael family.
"Regaining my memories only to be thrown out penniless—truly exquisite timing."
Perhaps it was better than remembering them later.
If Lucian Vael—who couldn't even wield a basic spell—were expelled with nothing into the Garil Snow Mountains, he would almost certainly die before long.
"Since the family head has officially declared it, there's no taking it back."
In the Vael family, the "declaration of the family head" carried the weight of a thousand pounds.
The head of the Vael family was always cold, impartial, and never reversed a decision once made.
Such iron-blooded resolve was considered the minimum qualification to lead.
No one knew that better than Lucian Vael.
So he bowed his head calmly, prepared to offer his final respect and withdraw.
"Well then…"
But at that moment—
"Wait."
"…?"
Lucian paused mid-turn.
Wasn't the declaration finished?
Had the Lucian Vael before him done something else—something he didn't remember?
While tangled thoughts clouded his mind again—
"Though…though you are to be expelled…"
The head cleared his throat a few more times and continued, his voice sounding a touch softer.
"I will grant you one final month of grace. If you fail to produce results by then, you will indeed be expelled. That is all."
With that, Blake Vael completed the declaration in full and, wearing a solemn expression, passed Lucian and departed the hall.
"…"
"…"
For a moment, silence filled the space.
Then, once the head had disappeared completely, the assembled people began to murmur among themselves.
"See? What did I say? He'd give him another month."
"The family head…honestly. He acts so stern, but he's softhearted."
"Isn't that the truth?"
…"Iron-blooded resolve," indeed.
---
While Lucian stood there blankly, the crowd gradually began to file out of the hall.
"Well, still—at least it's lucky for the young master."
"Lucky? If it were me, I'd rather leave on my own two feet than be dragged back here in a month to be humiliated again."
"Shh. He's still the young master. Watch your tongue. He can hear you."
"As if. You think he can hear anything? You've seen him—he doesn't notice a thing."
As if. He could hear them perfectly.
It seemed that before regaining his memories, Lucian Vael had been pretending to be slightly hard of hearing.
Maybe it had been easier for him to pretend he hadn't heard all the gossip.
"Still…a reprieve."
It was certainly fortunate to have been granted it.
To be expelled from the very house he had cultivated and raised—right after regaining his memories.
What a ridiculous situation.
But when the family head had declared it, Lucian had already started thinking about alternatives.
"First, I could withdraw and learn magic on my own—then reapply for entry as an initiate rather than a direct heir."
It was probably almost unheard of for someone to go back to a house that had expelled them and request to be taken in as a disciple.
But as far as the rules went, it wasn't impossible.
"I have no need for the status of a direct bloodline anyway."
Most imperial houses valued skill above lineage.
While it was true that direct bloodlines often inherited more robust mana circuits or affinities for certain elements, if you possessed talent beyond that, your blood didn't matter at all.