In a Small Castle
In a small castle guarded by hundreds of soldiers, an unusual scene unfolded in the garden. Among a group of twelve people, a boy with purple hair was attempting, rather foolishly, to break one of seven eggs scattered on the grass.
These eggs were pure white, emitting a faint, cold aura. The guards watching him struggled to contain their laughter until one older guard, an S-ranked soldier, finally spoke up.
"Young master, these eggs are extremely tough. It would take at least a ton of force to crack one," he said.
Hearing this, the boy put down his hammer, looking at the guard in disbelief. "Really? That much force?"
"Yes," replied the guard, relieved but surprised. He half-expected the young master to scold him for both interrupting and correcting him, yet the boy did nothing of the sort.
"Alright, then. You, come forward," he commanded. One of the twins—a young boy—stepped forward. Though young, he radiated the aura of a C-rank fighter, a rare talent. Had fate been kinder, he and his sister would have held places in the main branch of the family.
But his story was different: his father had betrayed the family, selling crucial documents to a rival empire. As punishment, his family was hunted down, and his mother was left crippled, with only days to live. Both siblings were kept alive solely due to their talent, though the brainwashing inflicted on them had ultimately failed, a fact unknown to the family.
Despite everything, the boy remained loyal, hoping only to protect his sister from further harm. The same couldn't be said for his sister; she harbored a deep hatred for the Thunderhart family but hid it well. Perhaps the boy might have felt the same if he hadn't had someone to protect.
---
Aiden's POV
I called him forward, imagining a future where he might serve as my right hand. As he approached, I recalled his backstory. Though he possessed remarkable talent, his father's betrayal had cost his family everything. Now, he stood here with nothing left except his sister and mother.
"Use your strongest spell and destroy these eggs," I instructed, sensing his confusion. I knew from playing this game that monster eggs were exceptionally tough. My true intention was to open a conversation with him. After all, the body's previous owner had never bothered to understand his guards' abilities, assuming them all to be a mix of useless young and old recruits.
As I thought this, a magic circle formed in front of him as he activated his skill, muttering, "Thunder Pulse."
Electric sparks crackled in the air, encircling the eggs.
(Thunder Pulse: A D-rank spell that takes six seconds to fully activate.) (Mana usage: 10/10)
A grin spread across my face as the familiar game window appeared.
The blue lightning grew more intense before striking the eggs with a deafening explosion. The ground trembled, and the grass within a 30-meter radius was scorched. His sister shielded me with a protective barrier just in time; otherwise, I would have been caught in the blast, which would have been game over for me.
As the dust settled, a crater about two meters deep and four meters wide lay before us. This skill's power was that of a C-rank ability, consuming 13 to 15 mana. Its long activation time and limited range were its only drawbacks, but it was still one of my favorite skills in the game for its sheer utility.
I clapped, stepping forward with a smile. "What's your name? I initially chose you as my bodyguard because you're close to my age, but I didn't expect you to be this strong."
"Thank you, young master. My name is Maxwell... just Maxwell," he replied, bowing. Some of the guards sneered, and his sister lowered her head, expecting scorn. Even commoners had last names, but for nobles, losing one was the ultimate shame—a consequence of treachery.
"If my grandfather chose you to be my guard, you must be loyal to the family," I said, watching his expression turn to disbelief. "From now on, you'll be not only my personal guard but also my personal attendant. In return, I'll grant you one request."
His eyes brightened with hope as he glanced at his sister. With determination, he spoke, "Young master, I wish to take care of my mother with my sister. She's imprisoned in the dungeon and only has a few days left."
Maxwell and his sister fell to their knees, pleading, "Please grant this selfish request, and I swear to serve you for as long as I live."
As he didn't receive an immediate reply, he lowered his head even further, touching the ground. The guards around couldn't contain themselves, sneering, as lowering oneself so much—especially as a noble—was seen as beyond shameful.
I didn't stop them, which was strange yet somehow expected. In my past life, I was a good citizen, and witnessing this kind of behavior would have evoked a strong reaction. Yet, as my memories blended with those of the 15-year-old villain who had killed innocents, I felt nothing; it even seemed normal, sending a chill down my spine. Walking down into the crater he'd created, I picked up one of the pristine, untouched eggs. The guards were astonished—an egg containing a living creature had an even tougher shell, and considering it came from a C+ monster, it would require the strength of a B-ranker to break. But unknown to them, even my father, considered a Sword Saint, wouldn't be able to break it without being serious.
Emerging from the crater, egg in hand, I turned to him and simply said, "Consider it done."
Both of them looked at me with surprise, likely thinking I was toying with their emotions. Aiden had done this many times with commoners, only to end their lives after he got bored. But I am not Aiden. Although his influence lingers, it's far from absolute.