Early in the morning.
Rodos headed toward the Training Grounds with an axe strapped to his back.
It was a more refreshing morning than usual.
His body, having absorbed the energy of the Frostwind Divine Beast, was brimming with vitality.
His steps felt lighter than ever.
Perhaps it was because he wanted to test the power of the Frostwind Divine Beast.
A fairly bright smile rested on Rodos’s face.
There was no one at the Training Grounds.
Igrun was nowhere to be seen.
“!”
Standing in the middle of the Training Grounds, Rodos suddenly remembered something he had forgotten.
His sparring sessions with Igrun had only been meant to continue until his Duel with Harka.
‘What a shame.’
Rodos could not hide his disappointment.
Now that he had absorbed the energy of the Frostwind Divine Beast, he wanted to fight Igrun again.
Of course, he quickly cast his disappointment aside.
Nothing would change simply because he regretted it.
It was better to spend that time swinging his axe instead.
Rodos picked up his tomahawk.
It was time to test the power of the Divine Beast.
SLICE.
Without hesitation, Rodos drew the sharp axe blade across his forearm.
Bright red blood immediately began flowing down his arm.
DRIP.
The moment a drop of blood gathered at his fingertip and fell to the ground, Rodos’s eyes widened.
Life Force was flowing through his body, and the wound was already closing.
‘Fast.’
It was faster than Rodos had expected.
The regenerative ability granted by the Life Force was on a transcendent level.
Even compared to the Healing Arts used by Healers, it worked remarkably quickly.
Rodos pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside.
This time, he intended to inflict far more wounds on himself.
He placed the axe blade against his upper body and began cutting himself indiscriminately.
SLICE, SLICE, SLICE.
Each time the axe blade cut into his body, another wound appeared with a stinging pain.
Soon, his upper body was covered in wounds and drenched in blood.
Only then did Rodos stop cutting himself and begin moving violently as he swung his axe.
He wanted to see how the regenerative ability would perform in actual combat.
Ignoring the wounds covering his body, Rodos focused entirely on swinging his axe.
WHOOSH!
The axe tore through the air with a heavy sound.
Only after swinging it for quite some time did he finally lower the weapon.
His breathing had grown rough from the intense exertion.
‘Good.’
Rodos examined his body and nodded.
His upper body, which had been covered in wounds only moments before, was now completely unblemished.
At this level, his regenerative ability was comparable even to that of the warriors of the North.
‘I’ll have to train even harder.’
Having confirmed his new ability, Rodos continued his rigorous training.
He had no intention of being satisfied with this.
He still had a long way to go.
Those who became complacent with their current state could never reach greater heights.
Rodos repeatedly wounded himself and swung his axe.
He became so deeply immersed in his training that he did not even notice when the Knights arrived.
“Why is the Young Master doing that?”
The Knights watching Rodos tilted their heads in confusion.
They could not understand his behavior.
He was deliberately injuring himself and then swinging his weapon.
They had no idea why.
“Why is he hurting himself?”
“I heard somewhere that the barbarians of the North do things like that when performing rituals.”
“Are you saying the Young Master looks like a northern barbarian?”
“No, but look at him swinging that axe. It is not exactly something we normally see.”
To the Knights, Rodos did not resemble an ordinary Swordsman or Knight.
The sight of him smiling as he swung an axe while drenched in blood truly did make him look like a barbarian.
“He does look like one. He also looks somewhat insane.”
“I heard he fought Young Master Harka yesterday… Did he lose the Duel?”
News from within the House tended to spread quickly even among the Knight Orders.
For some reason, however, no one seemed to know the outcome of yesterday’s Duel.
“Kradil would have been useful at a time like this.”
Normally, Kradil would have gone around telling everyone about it, but he was currently under Disciplinary Confinement.
Curious about the outcome of the Duel, the Knights lingered near Rodos instead of leaving.
“What are all of you doing?”
At Igrun’s appearance, the Knights hurriedly saluted.
“Knight Commander!”
Igrun casually raised a hand in acknowledgment before looking toward Rodos.
‘I heard he won the Duel, yet he remains as consistent as ever.’
Igrun could not help but admire Rodos.
He had thought Rodos might not come today, either because he was intoxicated by the joy of victory or exhausted from the battle.
Yet Rodos was exactly as he had been throughout the past few months.
Even though Igrun had helped Rodos for an entire month, he had not been certain that Rodos would win.
A Mage was simply that troublesome an opponent.
Yet Rodos had won as though to prove everyone wrong.
‘I can see why he won.’
Igrun could only nod.
Rodos was happily swinging his axe despite being covered in blood.
Those who enjoyed themselves ultimately prevailed.
It was one of the truths Igrun had learned through his many years of experience.
If another opportunity arose, sparring with Rodos again might be enjoyable.
“Knight Commander, may I ask you something? We heard there was a Duel between Young Master Rodos and Young Master Harka. Do you happen to know who won?”
The Knights must have been truly curious, because they asked Igrun the moment they saw him.
It was exceedingly impolite, but Igrun did not care.
He was not particularly concerned with etiquette himself.
“Young Master Rodos won.”
After answering, Igrun left the Training Grounds.
He had work to do.
“What?”
“I thought it might be possible, but….”
The Knights who had been making fun of Rodos fell silent upon hearing that he had actually won the Duel.
Somehow, Rodos suddenly looked different to them.
He had carved away the frail body of a Mage and forged himself into a warrior, then gone on to claim victory against a Mage.
“We need to work harder too.”
“We cannot afford to lose in Swordsmanship to a Young Master from a prestigious family of mages.”
Feeling ashamed of themselves, the Knights began training far more intensely than usual.
Oblivious to all of that, Rodos remained immersed in his training and did not take a break until the sun had risen high into the sky.
He felt good.
His body had been wounded and regenerated countless times, yet the Life Force within him remained unchanged.
The Life Force had completely taken root within Rodos’s body.
At this rate, he would be able to perfectly reproduce the fighting style of the warriors of the North.
‘I want to fight.’
His abilities had unquestionably improved, and he had acquired regenerative powers comparable to those of the warriors of the North.
Then there was only one thing left to do.
Fight.
He wanted a battle in which he could throw his entire body into the fray without fear.
Rodos rose and resumed his training.
There was no need to rush.
The opportunity would come soon enough.
***
The House’s reception room.
Marcos sat on a sofa with a teacup in his hand.
With a relaxed expression, he drank his tea while receiving the day’s reports.
“The new Magic Item production facility began operations today, and ten Intermediate Mages from the Kingdom of Hairn have applied for asylum with the House.”
“…….”
Marcos gave no response and merely continued drinking his tea.
Kshar paid no attention to his silence and continued the report.
“As for the Head of the House’s personal schedule, you are due to have lunch with the First Elder of the Imperial Senate.”
Marcos frowned and answered immediately.
“Cancel it.”
“Yes. I will take care of it.”
Kshar bowed his head at Marcos’s command.
“Additionally, the Regular Mission Assignment Ceremony is approaching. It will be held in two weeks. The missions have already been selected and organized according to difficulty.”
“…….”
Marcos flicked a finger.
It meant that Kshar should handle it as he saw fit.
“That concludes today’s administrative report. Lastly, I have a report regarding the aftermath of yesterday’s Duel.”
Kshar refilled the empty teacup and continued.
“Young Master Harka merely lost consciousness after being caught in the magic. He did not suffer any serious injuries. He received treatment and has since regained consciousness. Young Master Rodos took the Horn of the Divine Beast, a relic from the northern region. I do not know what he intends to use it for, but he appeared satisfied with his choice.”
“Interesting.”
Marcos’s interest was piqued.
Of all the things Rodos could have chosen, he had selected a horn rather than a weapon.
“To think the day would come when I found that boy interesting.”
Between the Duel with Harka and everything else, Rodos continued to behave in ways Marcos had never expected.
Only now was he beginning to show signs that Marcos’s blood truly ran through his veins.
“Do you have any additional instructions?”
“…….”
Instead of answering, Marcos drank his tea.
Silence settled over the room.
CLINK.
Marcos slowly set down his teacup and spoke.
“Assign Rodos a Regular Mission as well. He should be capable of handling something at that level by now.”
“I will obey.”
“However, assign him one only if Rodos comes to the Assignment Ceremony himself. That is the condition.”
A meaningful smile appeared on Marcos’s face.
The Regular Mission would reveal whether Rodos’s recent changes were truly useful or not.
***
Two weeks later, one morning.
Rodos left his room.
He was not headed to the Training Grounds.
Today, there was something more important than training.
The Regular Mission Assignment Ceremony.
It was a kind of test given to the blood relatives of the House.
It was an important event in which each person carried out an assigned mission and proved their abilities.
Every blood relative of the House was required to complete at least one mission each year.
Anyone who refused would no longer be recognized as a member of the House.
Even if one failed the mission, one had to give it everything they had.
That was the mindset expected of a member of House Augustus.
There were many kinds of missions.
Subjugation, assassination, hunting, intelligence gathering, item delivery, and more.
The missions issued by the House were notorious for their difficulty.
However, it was also true that successfully completing one brought correspondingly tremendous rewards.
Of course, Rodos had never received a mission before.
There had been no mission worth entrusting to someone as incapable as he had been.
‘This should be interesting.’
Rodos intended to obtain a mission by any means necessary.
As a warrior, he could not tolerate being prevented from going out when there were battles to be fought.
Furthermore, he needed to use the reward for completing the mission to obtain another treasure of the North sleeping within the warehouse.
With an axe strapped to his back, he strode toward the Hall where the Mission Assignment Ceremony would be held.
***
At the same time.
Most of the House’s blood relatives, including members of both the Direct Bloodline and the Branch Family, had gathered in the Hall.
Aside from a few who were still away carrying out missions, everyone was present.
A peculiar tension hung over the Hall.
Everyone waited with equal measures of anticipation and anxiety, wondering what kind of mission they would be assigned.
“Damn it….”
Harka stood in a corner.
The humiliation of yesterday’s defeat made him reluctant to show his face.
“Of all people, I lost to him….”
The problem was that he had lost to Rodos.
Not anyone else, but Rodos.
That fact wounded Harka’s pride more than anything.
“But he is not here?”
Harka’s expression brightened slightly.
It seemed Rodos was not going to attend the Mission Assignment Ceremony.
‘Of course. He has never attended before.’
Rodos might have shown signs of change recently, but the fact remained that he could not use magic.
There was no possible way for Rodos, who could not use magic, to carry out a mission issued by the House.
He must have known that himself, which was why he had not come.
CLACK!
When the appointed time arrived, the doors to the Hall were firmly shut.
Because the Mission Assignment Ceremony was conducted in secrecy, security was strict.
Even if someone wanted to enter now, they would not be allowed inside.
BANG!
At that very moment, a tremendous crash erupted.
The tightly closed doors shattered into pieces, and Rodos appeared beyond them.
“My apologies. I am a little late.”