Rodos bowed his head.
Being late was one thing, but he had also broken the property, so apologizing was only proper.
‘It is completely destroyed.’
He had not intended to break it.
However, the doors had been firmly shut, and the Mages standing guard had blocked his way, insisting that he absolutely could not enter.
There had been only one thing Rodos could do.
Besides, politely knocking on the door and asking them to let him in did not suit Rodos’s personality.
“You are a little late. Please wait in the center.”
Even after seeing the shattered doors, Kshar calmly guided Rodos inside.
‘I thought you would come, but making an entrance like this is certainly entertaining.’
Smashing through the doors so violently—Rodos had undoubtedly changed since awakening.
“Did he just cause a disturbance during the Mission Assignment Ceremony?”
“He was already late, and then he broke the doors. How shameless.”
The family members gathered in the Hall whispered among themselves.
They included members of the Branch Family as well as Mages who had displayed enough talent to be adopted into the House at a young age.
“Between this and what happened at the Dueling Arena, he really is different from before, isn’t he?”
“He has certainly changed. For the worse. He has gone insane.”
Someone who had never once attended a Mission Assignment Ceremony had suddenly appeared after smashing through the doors.
“Is that really a Mage? He looks more like a Knight.”
The family members shook their heads.
For many of them, this was only the second time they had seen Rodos.
Seen from up close, Rodos’s body looked even more muscular.
How could anyone call someone like this the youngest Young Master of a prestigious family of mages?
It was absurd.
“…….”
Rodos’s siblings, the Direct Bloodline, showed no particular reaction.
They had already seen something similar.
Rodos had smashed through a door when he attended the family meal a month earlier as well.
Compared to the Rodos of the past, he had undoubtedly changed, but by now they had grown fairly accustomed to seeing him carrying axes.
“So you came after all.”
Harka merely muttered, unable to hide his disappointment at Rodos’s arrival.
Feeling countless gazes directed toward him, Rodos took his place among the other family members.
Once Kshar confirmed that everyone had gathered, he sent a signal somewhere.
“It seems everyone has arrived.”
At those words, everyone turned toward the platform.
One of the most important events for the members of the House was beginning.
A middle-aged Mage stepped onto the platform.
His name was Brutus.
He was an 8th Circle High-Ranking Mage and the head of the Second Magic Corps.
He was also the official responsible for conducting today’s Mission Assignment Ceremony.
“Two seasons have passed, and once again, this important moment has arrived. I trust that you have all prepared yourselves well. As those blessed with magic, I believe each and every one of you is capable of accomplishing any mission placed before you.”
After offering a few brief words of encouragement, he raised his Staff.
“We will now begin assigning missions.”
Hundreds of mission sheets shot out from behind Brutus and floated into the air.
They represented all manner of missions, both major and minor, currently being undertaken by the House.
“For the Young Masters and Young Ladies participating in the Assignment Ceremony for the first time, I will explain how missions are assigned.”
Brutus began explaining the assignment process.
“When your turn comes, simply stand on the Mission Assignment Magic Circle here.”
Brutus pointed toward a glowing Magic Circle.
“The Magic Circle will measure every form of power you possess, including your Mana and Magic Circuits. Afterward, you may choose whichever mission you desire from among those presented to you.”
It was a system in which one simply stood on the Magic Circle, and the Magic Circle would automatically determine which missions were appropriate.
‘Convenient.’
As expected of a prestigious family of mages.
Simply standing upon a Magic Circle was enough for it to determine one’s abilities and provide suitable choices.
“Of course, you will not be able to select a mission that is beyond your level. Keep that in mind. However, do not be disappointed. As long as you possess even a one-percent chance of success, you will be permitted to choose it.”
That concluded the explanation.
Rodos looked at the mission sheets floating in a circle.
They came in a variety of colors.
Mission difficulty was divided into five colors.
White, Copper, Silver, Gold, and Black, in ascending order.
The closer a mission came to the Black tier, the more exponentially its difficulty increased.
“There is a Black one!”
“A Black Mission?”
The Hall erupted into murmurs at the appearance of a Black Mission.
It had been some time since a Black Mission had last been offered.
Only those with exceptional abilities even among the blood relatives of the House could accomplish such missions.
Naturally, the greatest source of interest was which family member would select the Black Mission and successfully complete it.
There was an unwritten rule among the family members.
One should choose a mission more difficult than one’s current ability.
Anyone who chose a mission below their level was considered a coward.
Even if someone ultimately failed, choosing a more difficult mission was not something others would look down upon.
“When I call your name, please step forward and select your mission.”
Brutus examined the list and began calling names.
“Young Master Galva, please step forward.”
The first person called was Galva, a member of the Direct Bloodline and one of Rodos’s brothers.
The first through third siblings seemed to be absent because they were still carrying out their own missions.
Galva Augustus.
He was Rodos’s fourth eldest brother and a 7th Circle High-Ranking Mage.
He possessed exceptional talent for Wind-Attribute Magic and was sometimes known within the House by the epithet ‘Wind Messenger.’
Galva stepped onto the platform, his long, neatly tied hair swaying behind him.
‘I can feel the wind.’
Rodos could sense a refreshing breeze emanating from Galva.
As befitted a Mage who primarily used Wind-Attribute Magic, he gave off the very essence of wind.
“I wonder what kind of mission Young Master Galva will receive.”
“Surely he will choose the Black Mission?”
The other family members watched with anticipation, curious to see which difficulty Galva would select.
Galva paid them no attention and simply looked at the mission sheets floating before him.
Mission sheets of every color awaited his choice.
“You may make your selection.”
“There is nothing to consider.”
Galva did not hesitate.
With speed befitting the wind itself, he snatched up a Black Mission sheet.
The Magic Circle showed no reaction.
It had determined that Galva possessed sufficient ability to complete a Black Mission.
“Brutus, may I leave now?”
“Do as you wish.”
When Brutus bowed his head, Galva swiftly left the Hall as though he had no further business there.
It was a departure befitting his epithet, ‘Wind Messenger.’
“I wanted to know what kind of mission it was….”
“He could have at least told us a little before leaving.”
The others were disappointed.
They wanted to know what his mission entailed.
Of course, mission details were kept strictly confidential.
If information about a mission were to spread, it could interfere with its execution.
Even so, they could not help feeling disappointed.
“But even if it is Young Master Galva, can he really succeed?”
“Who knows?”
After Galva left, the atmosphere in the Hall remained unsettled.
A Black Mission was a difficulty that no one could overcome with merely ordinary skill.
That was precisely why those who chose Black Missions drew so much attention.
“He will probably complete it in the end. He is part of the Direct Bloodline.”
“Of course he will. They are of entirely different stock from us.”
Before long, the Hall became quiet again.
The Direct Bloodline had been blessed with extraordinary talent.
Whatever mission they were given, they would surely complete it with ease.
“Why am I worrying about someone else? I should be worrying about myself.”
This was hardly the time to concern themselves with others.
No matter what mission someone else chose, their own missions mattered far more.
“Next, Young Lady Leone, please step forward. Young Master Berus, Young Master Aurelius….”
The Assignment Ceremony proceeded quickly.
Rodos’s siblings from the Direct Bloodline were particularly decisive.
Each of them chose a mission more difficult than their current ability and then left the Hall.
“I’ll choose a Silver Mission.”
Harka also selected his mission and quickly departed.
Now, Rodos was the only member of the Direct Bloodline remaining.
‘It is my turn.’
There was a rule that missions were assigned to the Direct Bloodline first, so Rodos, as the last remaining member, was next.
“Young Master Rodos, please step forward.”
When his name was called, Rodos strode toward the platform.
At that moment, one of the family members shouted and climbed onto the platform.
“Wait! I object!”
His name was Armut.
Despite coming from the Branch Family, he was a Mage whose exceptional magical ability had earned him considerable expectations.
“You intend to assign Rodos a mission? I do not understand. His Magic Circuits are damaged, leaving him unable to use magic. Does someone like that truly deserve to receive one of the House’s missions?”
Several family members nodded.
Armut had a point.
The missions assigned by the House consisted entirely of tasks that only Mages were expected to be capable of resolving.
“…….”
Brutus gave no answer.
He merely watched the situation unfold as though he found it interesting.
“You may have a point.”
As Rodos muttered those words, he drew one of his tomahawks and hurled it at Armut.
BANG!
The axe buried itself in the floor directly at Armut’s feet.
It had happened in the blink of an eye.
“?”
Silence fell over the platform at the sight of the axe that had suddenly flown onto it.
“Gasp!”
Armut looked down at the axe lodged beneath his feet.
Its position was so precise that even the slightest movement would bring him into contact with the blade.
That meant only one thing.
Rodos could have aimed elsewhere but had deliberately spared him.
“Move.”
“…….”
With fear written across his face, Armut had no choice but to step down from the platform.
He had not even been able to react.
He had to admit it.
Rodos possessed enough power to deserve a mission.
“Please come onto the platform.”
With a calm expression, Brutus gestured for Rodos to approach.
He did not care that Rodos had thrown an axe.
Whatever method he had used, Rodos had overwhelmed his opponent with sheer force.
Might was law.
That was the principle of the House and the will of the Head of the House.
Brutus merely followed it.
‘No wonder he won the Duel.’
Still, that attack had undeniably been threatening.
Rodos’s victory in the Duel had certainly not been a matter of luck.
He had claimed victory through his own ability.
Only then did Rodos slowly step onto the platform.
As expected, remaining passive solved nothing.
Displaying one’s ability.
In a House that revered strength and skill, there was no wiser method.
In that respect, the North and this place were no different.
“Wow.”
“That was bold.”
The watching family members voiced their admiration.
The Rodos who had done nothing but run away was gone.
Only a muscular warrior wielding two axes remained.
Just as he had done when he smashed through the doors earlier, he was asserting his presence through action.
“Once your choices appear, please select a mission.”
Mission sheets began appearing before Rodos.
Various missions, ranging from Black all the way down to White, floated before him and awaited his selection.
Rodos considered the choices for a moment.
‘If I followed my heart, I would choose Black.’
Rodos shook his head.
He knew perfectly well that he was not yet strong enough to carry out a Black Mission.
Of course, turning the impossible into the possible was the spirit of a warrior of the North.
But recklessly charging into something without even the slightest chance of success did not make one a wise warrior.
‘I still need to become stronger.’
He was nowhere near ready to surpass his siblings.
For now, it was better to climb upward from the bottom, one step at a time, like ascending a mountain peak.
‘Choosing a Black Mission would draw far too much attention.’
Whether positive or negative, countless eyes would undoubtedly turn toward Rodos.
That would be troublesome.
For now, it was better to remain someone they could no longer simply dismiss.
‘This will be my first real battle.’
For the current Rodos, this mission would be his first true taste of combat.
He intended to use it to develop both his abilities and his real-world combat experience.
In that case, there was only one choice for him.
A mission that was not impossible like a Black Mission, yet could still be completed if he was willing to risk his life.
A compromise between his desires as a warrior and the realities of his current strength.
‘Gold.’
Rodos picked up a Gold Mission sheet and spoke.
“I’ll choose a Gold Mission.”