Unexpected Servants
One day in my previous life, I woke up in an unusually troublesome mood and did something unforgivably reckless.
Something so outrageous that, even now, reflecting on it, I cannot comprehend what madness had possessed me.
It was so extreme that my usually stoic father revealed a flash of pure rage, his gaze cutting sharper than any blade. So grave was my offense that he personally came to scold me.
As punishment, I was sent to the 5th Army, where my sister Rias Fireheart had been stationed, to stay for half a year.
Naturally, this didn't change my insufferable personality.
That punishment, however, led to my second encounter with Isabella.
Though, truthfully, that meeting had been nothing but trouble for her.
The lesson I drew from this long recollection was simple: avoid Isabella for at least another half-year.
So why, then, was she standing at my doorstep—here, in my room—before the time had even passed?
The first thing I saw when opening the door was a face I shouldn't encounter for months. Naturally, my astonishment was justified.
This has to be a dream…
"I did sleep late last night…" I muttered, blaming my own fatigue for the illusion. Perhaps sleep deprivation had finally caught up with me.
I sighed and shook my head, preparing to retreat and lock the door.
Then—a tug on my clothes.
Looking down, I noticed small hands gripping the hem of my shirt. Following the line of her hands upward, my eyes met the unmistakable gaze of Isabella.
…This isn't a dream.
Confusion and realization collided in my mind as I noticed her trying to speak.
"I… I—"
Before she could continue, someone appeared with the speed and fluidity of a striking serpent. Their hand smacked her grip away from my shirt.
"Ow!"
She yelped, immediately releasing me and staggering back, half in pain, half in shock.
And then my eyes widened in involuntary recognition.
Her sudden appearance was already overwhelming. But now, standing before me, was Max.
Bloody hell…
I cursed silently, grateful that the words remained in my mind and didn't escape my lips. Had they done so, I would have been dead from embarrassment or sheer terror.
Max's anger was evident as he turned on Isabella, berating her sharply.
"Isabella! How many times have I told you how to behave in front of the young master?!"
…Young master?
He continued, a harsh edge to his voice:
"Apologize immediately!"
"I'm sorry, grandpa…"
"No! Apologize to the young master, brat!"
"S-Sorry, young master!"
What… what was even happening right now?
While struggling to process the scene, Max bowed deeply before me.
No… why was the Blade Sovereign bowing to me?
Could someone please explain this madness?
"Starting today, I, Mark, will serve you. We are indebted, and though I may be a weak old man, I will do my utmost in your service," Max said, speaking with solemn respect.
Mark? Not Max?
He glanced at Isabella, who immediately lowered herself into a modest posture, her voice trembling but resolute.
"S-Starting today, I, I… Isabella, will serve the young master alongside my grandpa. I… I look forward to your guidance."
Serve… who?
"Me…?"
A sudden wave of dizziness washed over me, my vision blurring for a moment as I reached up to steady my head. Comprehension faltered, and panic bubbled beneath the surface.
To fully understand my predicament, one must know who Max truly is.
He is one of the Heavenly Paragon, the three greatest martial artists in the Martial World, whose achievements dwarf countless others.
The Black Dragon—now the defeated king, Evil Drake—had fallen to him, and shortly after, he became the head of the Martial Alliance.
He earned the title Blade Sovereign solely due to his unmatched strength. At this time, before the rise of the Night Lotus Demon, he was likely the strongest being in existence.
Now such a being wants to serve me?
Why?
Why would the strongest warrior of the Martial World hide under a false name and come here?
Even the four noble clans would have welcomed him with fanfare and awe.
I struggled to find a logical explanation. Perhaps he owed a debt to my father, Loret Fireheart, and so had been summoned.
Does my father know about this?
This had never occurred in my previous life.
The only time I had seen Max then, nothing like this had happened. Perhaps I had left a poor impression back then, due to my mischief and incompetence.
My head hurts…
My plan had been simple: quietly gather strength while the Orthodox Demonic War concluded. I had hoped to live under the radar, slowly preparing for the inevitable.
But now… the future had irrevocably changed.
I dropped my palm from my head, attempting to assess Max anew.
On first glance, he appeared an unassuming old man, his gentle smile belying his true power. If Isabella weren't here, I would have dismissed him entirely.
But… what am I supposed to do now?