"Father, the academy is demanding payment for this semester's tuition.
Mine is 69 gold coins, and my brother's is 299 gold coins, making a total of 368 gold coins."
Ethan stood in the study, speaking to his father with a serious expression. His voice was calm, but his eyes showed a hint of unease.
Knight Rand Mitchell stood by the window, slowly turning to face Ethan with a look of disdain. Without saying a word, he took a bag of gold coins from the desk drawer and tossed it onto the table. He turned back to the window, as if looking at Ethan any longer would disgust him.
Ignoring his father's disdain, Ethan silently stepped forward to count the coins. However, upon finishing, he realized the number was off, and a sense of foreboding filled his heart.
"Father, there are only 299 coins here."
Hearing this, Rand Mitchell's expression grew even more disdainful, and he turned his head slightly.
"Ethan, I know you are a smart boy, but you like to play dumb. Let me be clear. You don't need to worry about my son's expenses. As for your own, you are sixteen now, an adult by imperial law, and it's time you learned to fend for yourself. When your mother remarried me, I told her I would only support you until you turned sixteen. Even though she has been dead for years, I have kept my word."
Mentioning his mother made Ethan's eyes redden, and he could no longer suppress his anger.
"Uncle Rand, don't you feel ashamed? My mother indeed remarried you, but this estate belongs to my father, Baron Bertner. As the sole legitimate heir, I am entitled to all the estate's profits. All my expenses over the years have been my own. Yet, you have the gall to claim you've been providing for me? With what, your ten gold coins a month from the knight's salary? You've squandered the estate's profits, and now you want to kick me out?"
Ethan couldn't believe there could be someone so shameless in this world.
Rand Mitchell was once merely a knight under Ethan's father. After Ethan's father died on the battlefield, his mother Laura, in her grief, was seduced by Rand's sweet words and remarried him. Thus, Rand Mitchell took up residence in the manor as the head of the household. Naturally, residing in the manor did not grant him inheritance rights. He managed the estate only because Ethan was too young to handle it himself.
In the first year, Rand managed the estate diligently. Laura bore him a son, Ethan's half-brother, and the family lived in relative happiness. However, after giving birth, Laura fell ill with a strange disease. Her health deteriorated rapidly: her hair fell out in clumps, her teeth loosened, and she could only consume liquid food. She soon wasted away, and even the slightest movement caused her bones to break. She spent her days bedridden, crying out in pain without being able to pinpoint its source. With no diagnosis or treatment available, Laura's life was cut short by her suffering.
That year, Ethan was eight. That same year, the real Ethan "accidentally" drowned in a pond. The true Bertner family perished the day Ethan died.
The current occupant of Ethan's body was a soul from 21st-century Earth. After waking up and assimilating the memories, Ethan quickly understood his predicament. Fearing another inexplicable death, he acted cautiously. Upon reaching school age, he moved to the academy, preferring the rundown dormitory over staying in the grand manor. When he had to return home, he cooked his own potatoes and always appeared deferential to Rand, outwardly treating him as a respected father. Ethan's goal was to endure until he was of age and strong enough to reclaim his land.
However, Rand had made the first move. Though Ethan had expected this day to come, he hadn't anticipated it happening so soon, not before he even finished his studies. Faced with Rand's sudden aggression, Ethan finally couldn't hold back his outburst.
His words struck a nerve with Rand, whose face turned dark. Years of experience as a knight had left Rand unfazed by ridicule, devoid of shame. He quickly regained his composure, turned to Ethan with a cold, contemptuous smile, and pulled a legal document from the drawer, laying it on the table.
"Look at this. This estate now belongs to the Mitchell family. Understand that before you speak."
Ethan glanced at the document, feeling as if struck by lightning.
"How can this be?"
The document was a deed declaring the 323rd estate belonged to the Mitchell family, bearing the Duke of Stan's seal.
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Seeing the red seal, Ethan couldn't believe it was real. He didn't understand how the estate's ownership had changed.
Rand, seeing Ethan frozen in shock, continued, "Now do you understand who the real master here is? Since you understand, leave. Also, your mother's family is in big trouble. If it weren't for my efforts, dear Ethan, you might be in jail now. Yet, instead of being grateful, you mock me! If it weren't for the fact that you call me father, I would kill you right now."
Ethan clenched his fists, unsure of what to say. His mother's family had been executed for treason. Naturally, he didn't believe Rand had made efforts on his behalf. Any efforts were surely for Rand's own benefit, as he would be implicated as well.
Although Ethan didn't trust Rand's words, they reminded him that he had no one to turn to. Ethan, with eyes red from anger, wanted to kill Rand on the spot but reconsidered, knowing he would only throw his life away.
Rand Mitchell, standing at nearly 2.1 meters tall, was a burly, official member of the Duke of Marrow's knight corps, a silver-tier extraordinary knight. Neither his status nor his strength was something Ethan could challenge.
"Trying to fight would be futile."
"Luckily, Rand Mitchell doesn't dare openly commit murder and looks down on my current strength; otherwise, I might be dead already."
Understanding the situation was hopeless, Ethan didn't want to provoke Rand further. After calming himself, Ethan said expressionlessly, "Understood, Uncle."
He turned to leave but paused when Rand's voice came again: "You have one day to pack, then disappear from my sight forever."
"No need. I'll pack a few clothes and leave immediately."
Having severed ties, there was no need for pretenses. Without turning back, Ethan responded and walked away.
Quickly returning to his room, Ethan packed his belongings. He had no intention of taking much, but with winter approaching, he couldn't afford to be reckless. Marrow City's winters were harsh, with the river freezing up to half a meter thick, causing many homeless people to freeze to death each year. Now homeless, Ethan couldn't afford to be stubborn and hurriedly packed his winter clothes.
While packing, a blond boy of twelve or thirteen entered the room, smirking at Ethan. Seeing his brother, Ethan's expression soured.
"Alexander, don't you know how to knock?"
"This is my manor. Why should I knock to enter my own rooms?" Alexander taunted.
Ethan didn't want to argue, glancing at Alexander before continuing to pack.
"My dear brother, do take more clothes. I don't want others to say we mistreated you, causing you to freeze to death on the streets," Alexander said with a mocking smile.
Ethan ignored him, focusing on his task.
Annoyed by Ethan's indifference, Alexander's anger flared, but he restrained himself, his gaze fixed on Ethan's sword.
"You can take the clothes, but that sword must stay. It is an honor provided by the Mitchell family."
Ethan paused, slowly turning to grip the sword. The sword, named "Champion's Blade of the Steadfast," was about 1.3 meters long, weighing about 11 kilograms, with a pale yellow hue and circuit-like patterns on the blade. The pommel, engraved with his name and the motto "Endless," marked his victory in the Allen Academy's quintennial swordsmanship competition.
This sword was Ethan's pride, his faith, and his means of survival. There was no way he would give it up to someone so shameless.
"I wondered why you came to taunt me. So, it's the Champion's Blade you want. This is an honor for the champion, with my name, Ethan Bertner, engraved on the hilt. My dear brother, do you think you deserve it? As the last-place finisher, why not focus on reducing your tuition fees? That might be more realistic for you!"
"You..." Alexander was flushed with anger.
"There's no need for 'you, you, you.' If you want this sword, challenge me to a duel. I will gladly accept!" Ethan gripped the sword, glaring defiantly at Alexander.
"Hmph! What's so great about you? Just wait until I awaken my force. You'll see!" Alexander, despite despising Ethan, knew of his swordsmanship skills. Avoiding a heated confrontation, he left with a harsh remark.
With the nuisance gone, Ethan felt no triumph, only urgency to finish packing. Fortunately, it didn't take long, and a large suitcase sufficed.
Packing his essentials, Ethan left the manor quickly while it was still early. He feared Rand might change his mind. Though Rand wouldn't openly harm him, who knew if he might resort to underhanded tactics?
To save time, Ethan hired a carriage to take him to Marrow City, where the dense population would reduce the risk of assassination.
Ethan sat in the carriage, his mind in turmoil.
He counted the coins he had secretly saved over the years—only 3 gold coins.
Looking at the meager sum, Ethan smiled bitterly.
"I'm still growing, and daily meals alone cost a silver coin. I can't skimp on that, or it will affect my strength development. Adding in lodging and training expenses, this money won't last long."
"But those are secondary concerns. If Rand discovers my strength increasing too quickly, he'll definitely resort to underhanded tactics. My life could be in danger at any moment!"
"I'm still too weak. If only I could buy a few more years."
As Ethan fretted, a sudden flash of light crossed his mind.
The previously worried expression on Ethan's face finally gave way to a smile.
"This year's skill points have finally arrived."