They entered the house with an exhausted Renar, Lenora supporting him as she carried their son in one arm. Despite her weariness, she helped her husband steadily until they reached Noel's room. Gently, they placed the boy on his bed. Lenora adjusted the covers over him before leaving the room with Renar, still aiding him as they made their way to their own quarters.
"A sword... with magic..." Noel murmured to himself, his thoughts tangled in confusion as he stared at the ceiling. His mind replayed the events at the training ground, trying to make sense of what he'd witnessed. "Is it really possible to use both simultaneously? And if so," he paused, his brows furrowed deeply, "why have I never heard of this, even in my past life?"
A chilling thought crept into his mind, sending a shiver through him. "Why hasn't Father revealed this to anyone? Could it be his secret talent?" He turned his gaze toward the window, the fading sunlight casting long shadows across the room. The soft, dim light reflected in his eyes as his thoughts swirled.
"And Mother..." he muttered, recalling her reaction earlier. "She wasn't surprised. It's obvious she's seen this before." Noel's eyes narrowed as he pieced together his fragmented ideas. "Is it possible Father was protecting her? Could that be why she knows? Maybe... just maybe."
It was the first time since his return that Noel had let himself think so deeply. He had always been quick to dismiss lingering thoughts, choosing instead to rest and conserve energy. But tonight, his mind refused to settle.
Finally, he let out a heavy yawn, his lips curling into a small, involuntary smile. The tension in his face eased as he murmured, "I don't think I can stay awake anymore... hh..." A faint giggle escaped him as he surrendered to his fatigue, his mood lightened ever so slightly before sleep claimed him.
In the next room, just to the right of Noel's, Renar and Lenora settled into their modest space. The room was simple, much like Noel's—white walls, soft lighting, and a large bed in the center that could easily fit two people. Across from the bed, a door led to the bathroom they shared.
Renar lay sprawled across the bed, his body heavy with exhaustion. Lenora, however, sat stiffly at the edge, her disheveled hair falling around her face. To Renar, she looked undeniably adorable, even in her anger. But he knew better than to voice that thought.
Her eyes were sharp with fury as they darted toward him. He averted his gaze, sighing internally. Breaking the tense silence, he attempted to speak. "Ah... can I say someth—"
"Don't," Lenora cut him off, her tone firm and laced with disappointment. Her voice carried the weight of her worry as she continued, "You knew how dangerous it was, and yet you insisted on doing it!"
Renar had no defense. His lips twitched into a faint, unintentional smile—not out of defiance, but because deep down, he felt the sting of guilt.
Lenora wasn't done. Her voice softened, but her words hit even harder. "You're not even sure if he'll remember when he grows up," she said, her expression clouding with sorrow. She hesitated before adding, her voice trembling, "And even if he does... you know what will happen, don't you? Do you want our son to—"
Her words faltered as her emotions began to overwhelm her. Tears threatened to spill, her lips quivering with the weight of unspoken fears.
Renar, trying to ease her, said with a teasing tone, "You really don't trust me, do you?" His voice carried a hint of playfulness, but Lenora took it seriously. She immediately stopped her sobbing and replied, her tone sincere and heavy, "Why would you even say such a thing?"
Her response pierced through his teasing, her vulnerability laid bare. Renar paused, realizing the gravity of her words. This time, he softened and said, "Don't worry, my child will never be under any threat."
But Lenora wasn't in the mood for vague reassurances. Her voice, firm and resolute, shot back, "It's always the same claim, but never the result."
Renar, caught off guard by her sharp response, thought he was being clever with his earlier remark. Now, he found himself serious, letting a heavy sigh escape. "What you're worried about is what I think about every single day," he admitted. "To be honest, I don't know what to do anymore. Even the past, the choices I made… none of it feels like it mattered."
He sat down, his strength seeming to falter. Slowly, he leaned his shoulder against Lenora's, placing a comforting hand on her head. "It doesn't matter right now," he murmured. "I don't have the authority or strength to make it right."
Lenora leaned her head against his chest, her youthful voice a soft melody as she spoke. Her bright, youthful face glowed in the dim light, her diamond-shaped cheeks accentuating her delicate beauty. "So, you'll stop it, right?" she asked, her excitement lighting up her green eyes as she looked up at Renar.
"If that's what you want," he said with a forced smile, hiding his inner turmoil. Inside, his thoughts were different. "I'm sorry, Lenora, but I can't," he reflected.
Yet, he couldn't bring himself to ruin her joy. Lenora hugged him tightly, her happiness overflowing. Renar accepted her embrace, knowing all too well how fleeting such moments were.
The family remained in the old palace, their hearts heavy, even as the night turned to dawn.
The morning air buzzed with the cheerful chirps of sparrows. Renar left the house, duty calling him as a knight under the Duke's service. Two knights accompanied him, clearly his companions, as Lenora stood by the gate, waving her regards.
After seeing them off, Lenora closed the gate and returned to the palace. The tranquil morning, however, was not shared by Noel.
Noel–in his room, his red eyes, inherited from Renar, glaring at the golden status window floating before him. His white, silk-like hair was a mess, a clear sign he had just woken. "What is this?" he muttered, glaring at the text. "Were you sent to ruin my peaceful rest?"
His frustration boiled as he tried futilely to grab the window. "Look at this! Is this really something sent for me?" He sighed, exasperated. "I'm starting to suspect that whoever played with me before is at it again!"
The text on the panel glared back at him.
[By calculating the information the host couldn't receive…]
[A new update has been added.]
[Time limit: 5 days reduced to today!]
[Failure to complete the mission will result in a total mental shutdown.]
Noel's fists clenched. "So, I have two choices: complete the mission or give up my life?" His lips curled into a bitter smile. "What if I don't do anything? Let's test if I'll really lose my mind or not."
[It is inadvisable to test the system's limits. You may regret it, host.]
Caught off guard, Noel froze. His anger flared again as he pointed at the panel. "So, you only respond when you feel like it?!"
[No.]
"No?" Noel scoffed. "Since when is 'no' an answer?!"
[If the host wishes to engage in conversation, I am happy to oblige. However, you currently lack the requirements.]
"Requirements?" Noel's face twisted with confusion. "What kind of requirements?"
[To save your mother in the years to come.]
Those words hit him like a bolt of lightning. His disbelief was palpable. "How… how do you know about that?" he stammered.
The panel's response was swift and cryptic.
[You do not have the requirements to know.]
Noel's mind raced. The implications of those words were staggering. "Is this thing toying with me? Does it know the truth? Requirements, huh? Fine… I'll play your game for now, but don't think I'll let you win."
Meanwhile, Renar and his companions rode their carriage through the bustling city streets. Their destination: the towering, intricate palace of the Duke.
"So, you two just happened to be passing by my house and thought to tag along?" Renar asked, his voice cautious as he gauged their reactions.
One of the knights, a red-haired man with unreadable expressions, folded his arms. "Yes," he replied curtly.
Renar sighed internally. I can't figure this guy out at all.
The knight introduced himself as Mervos, adding, "We graduated from the same academy, if you're wondering."
Renar froze. Every word carried weight, shaking his resolve. Should he confront Mervos directly or keep his guard up? Trust was a rare commodity in this world.
As they entered the Duke's grounds, the towering walls loomed above, and gossip among the knights intensified. Their arrival didn't go unnoticed.
Upon entering, they found themselves in an open ground filled with soldiers dressed in uniforms similar to Renar's, each bearing a blue insignia.
"Is this the time to show up?" one knight scoffed as whispers spread among the gathered soldiers.
"Right? Aren't they just doing whatever they want?"
All eyes suddenly turned toward the three men stepping in.
"Now! Now!..." said a knight, stepping out from the crowd. His muscular frame, long mustache, and exaggerated calmness gave him an air of forced authority. He walked straight to the center, acting mature while his voice dripped with mockery. "Don't insult them. Maybe they're poor and couldn't afford a better carriage?"
"Yes," Mervos replied cleanly and calmly, passing by the so-called mature knight without sparing him a glance. Mervos didn't look bothered in the slightest. Compared to the large, imposing man, Mervos appeared average, his lean frame clad in his armored suit.
Renar, meanwhile, acted like a spectator, observing the situation with an expression of indifference. Unlike Mervos, who walked with silent confidence, Renar neither responded nor reacted.
"Do I look like a rock to you when you're passing by me?" the big knight, Polto, snapped, turning toward Mervos, his face flushed with anger. His nerves bulged, emphasizing his fury.
Behind him, whispers erupted among the knights.
"Isn't that Polto? The guy who gets stronger as he gets angrier?"
"Yeah, I heard that rumor too! He nearly killed a knight who was equal in strength to him!"
Another knight chimed in, his voice trembling slightly. "Then isn't that guy's life over?"
The atmosphere grew tense as curiosity mixed with fear. Most of the knights stared with bated breath, secretly hoping for a fight to break out.
In the towering palace that overlooked the grounds, two figures observed the unfolding scene.
"What's happening in the square ground?" Cleven asked, his gaze fixed on the commotion below.
"Well… let's just say we're going to see some promising knights," Islrack replied, his eyes still glued to the square.
Cleven frowned slightly, bothered by his brother's vague answer. But he decided to hold back, unwilling to miss anything.
Back on the square, Polto smirked at Mervos. "Why do you still have your eyes closed? Or do you want me to open them for you?" he taunted, raising an eyebrow.
Mervos stopped in his tracks. His voice, deep and swift like a blade cutting through the tension, responded: "I'll say it once, so listen."
Renar's expression shifted the moment Mervos spoke. Without even realizing it, he went into a defensive stance, his instincts screaming caution. Among the watching knights, two noticed Renar's sudden change, though they couldn't quite grasp the reason behind it.
From above, Islrack observed the scene with growing interest. His gaze sharpened, catching even the slightest shifts in body language.
"Ohh...? What an interesting guy," he murmured, a curious grin forming on his face.
Cleven, still standing beside him, remained silent, simply watching as events unfolded.
While Renar stood in a defensive stance, his mind screamed with a single thought: "Can't they see it?!"
Unbeknownst to Polto, he had already fallen into a trap.
"What are you talking about, huh?" Polto growled, stepping closer to Mervos.
Mervos smirked, a subtle yet chilling expression, as Polto took a single step forward. Before Polto could utter another word, Mervos' voice rang out, sharp and cold:
"Don't get into trouble in your next life."
In an instant, strange black silk threads appeared, slicing through Polto's body with precision and speed. His head and arms were the first to fall, followed by the rest of his body. The clean cuts left no chance for resistance or escape.
The knights froze, their murmurs dying mid-sentence. Their eyes were wide, filled with awe and terror. The air was thick with the weight of what had just transpired, and the only question lingering in their minds was: "What just happened?!"
For Renar and the other two, fear gripped their very cores. Renar, in particular, was drenched in sweat. He had seen the black threads clearly, as if they existed outside the realm of normal perception. His face betrayed the depth of his terror, though he remained rooted in place.
Mervos turned to address the stunned crowd, his expression as calm and sharp as ever. "Well, that's that. Any other questions about whether we're poor or not?"
High above, in the towering palace, Cleven and Islrack watched the scene unfold with starkly different reactions.
"Is that what you meant by promising knights?" Cleven asked, curiosity lacing his voice.
"Well... yeah," Islrack replied, but his hesitation was noticeable.
Cleven turned to him, his calm face betraying a hint of suspicion. "Why do you look like this wasn't what you expected? You selected the guy, didn't you?"
Islrack hesitated for a moment, then pointed toward the square below, specifically at Renar, who was now moving behind Mervos. "That guy over there..."
Cleven squinted, focusing on Renar's figure as it moved through the crowd. "You mean the one walking behind the guy who just killed someone?" Cleven's tone remained calm, though his words carried weight.
"Yeah...?" Islrack answered, suspicion creeping into his own voice.
Cleven's expression shifted into a knowing smile. "That's Renar. The one we were discussing last night."
Islrack's gaze sharpened, verifying Cleven's claim. It was indeed Renar. His realization seemed to settle into a mix of intrigue and determination.
"Call him to your office," Islrack said, his tone firm. "We'll continue what we left off last night. I'll meet you there before he arrives."
With those words, Islrack vanished from the room, his departure as swift and natural as a breath of air.
Cleven wasted no time. He summoned a guard to the room, which was sparse except for an assortment of chairs. Handing the guard a sealed letter, Cleven gave precise instructions:
"Deliver this to Renar. Only he can open it."
The guard nodded, taking the letter and leaving immediately. Cleven, satisfied, exited the room himself and headed toward his office.