As Akira's soul seamlessly reintegrated with his body, he awoke to the worried faces of the maid and doctor hovering over him. The doctor, curiosity evident, leaned forward and asked, "Young Master, could you tell us what transpired and caused you to lose consciousness in the library?"
Akira, reflecting on the bandages around his hand, crafted a plausible explanation. With a faint smile, he responded, "I spotted a rat, lost my balance, and fell. How clumsy of me."
The maid's concern remained etched on her face, while the doctor, though skeptical, chose not to press further. "I see," he said, his tone resigned.
Stretching his arms, Akira shifted the focus. "Excuse me, Doctor. Do you mind if I ask something?"
"You can speak freely, Young Master. What's on your mind?"
"Back in the library, I came across a theory about an artifact in Skull Head Mountain. Do you know anything about it?" Akira asked, his curiosity feigned yet sharp.
The doctor shook his head apologetically. "I'm afraid I don't."
Turning to the maid, Akira requested to be dressed so he could explore the mansion. Though hesitant due to his recent collapse, the maid nodded, recognizing the determination in his gaze.
Using a stick for support, Akira began his exploration, subtly exhaling mana into the surroundings. The maid and doctor exchanged glances, sensing the mana but unable to trace its source. The doctor dismissed the notion entirely, assuming Akira's curse made him incapable of magic.
Skillfully masking his abilities, Akira summoned a shadow entity in secret. With a mental command, he assigned it to protect the manor from intruders. The entity, imperceptible to even the most skilled magicians and sword masters, used dark magic to track and eliminate threats through their shadows, leaving no trace behind.
Akira reflected on the old man's teachings, understanding the immense power of his dark magic but also the taboo that shrouded it. With a maturity born of hardship, he accepted humanity's greed and resolved to outmaneuver it, trusting in his intelligence and cunning.
His steps led him to a neglected garden of red roses. The blooms, once cherished by his new mother, Queen Urian, now symbolized her forgotten legacy. Akira, scarred by his abusive birth mother, had never experienced maternal love. Yet, he could feel the depth of Urian's affection for her sons and the sorrow that lingered in the garden's decay.
With a quiet determination, he turned to the maid. "I want to see my father," he said.
As he examined the roses, a soft smile crossed his lips, a silent apology to the boy whose body he now inhabited. I'll bring justice for you and your mother, he vowed, steeling himself for the challenges ahead.
Dressed as he was, Akira strode into the main palace. Whispers and murmurs trailed behind him as servants and guards mocked his appearance. Unbothered, he pressed forward, his confidence unshaken.
Before the king and his court, Akira executed a flawless bow, the product of countless hours studying noble etiquette. His greeting was clear and authoritative, drawing astonished gazes from the officials. Even the king, a master of aura manipulation, seemed intrigued.
The king laughed boisterously, his voice reverberating through the hall. "He bears a striking resemblance to his mother," he murmured, his tone betraying a tinge of sorrow.
Akira seized the moment, recounting the dire state of his mansion—the lack of funds, servants, and guards. The king's skepticism was apparent as he questioned, "Are you fabricating this?"
Locking eyes with his father, Akira replied with unwavering respect and determination. The king, accustomed to his son's timid demeanor, was taken aback by this boldness. He dismissed Akira but sent his butler to investigate.
Upon arriving at the mansion, the butler's expression turned to disbelief. The neglected state of the property corroborated Akira's claims. "Your Highness, have you been living like this?" he asked, astonished.
Akira nodded silently. The butler's face softened with regret as he immediately summoned workers, maids, and guards to restore the estate. Despite his professionalism, the butler couldn't hide the sadness he felt for the boy's circumstances.
As Akira prepared for his journey, a shadow entity handed him a book containing information about the world map and the location of Skull Mountain. With a smile, Akira thanked it and dismissed it to guard the mansion. The maid then informed him of his upcoming return to the Royal High Academy.
Akira sighed at the reminder of his new body's age. Ten years old, and still expected to attend school, he thought. Determined to make the most of his remaining time, he prioritized honing his skills.
Over the next month, Akira dedicated himself to training. His bones fully healed, his body grew stronger, and his agility improved. Leaping from a three-story building, he jumped effortlessly from tree to tree, reveling in his newfound power.
One evening, five assassins clad in black attacked. Akira, armed only with a mana-infused tree branch, deflected their strikes with ease.
"How is this possible? We were told he was cursed!" the leader snarled, his confidence wavering.
Akira smirked. "How boring," he taunted before unleashing a devastating attack. With a single strike, he decapitated all five, their bodies collapsing in unison.
Shadow appeared, consuming the remains while Akira used "soul reading" on the leader's head. The vision revealed his stepmother, her angelic beauty hiding a cruel nature. Discarding the head, Akira's determination to make her suffer deepened.
The next morning, the maid entered his room with food and medicine. Noticing the untouched meal from the previous night, she sighed. Akira reluctantly sipped the medicine, his annoyance evident. Yet, as a sinister smile spread across his lips, the maid couldn't help but feel uneasy.
Dressed for the day, Akira informed the maid of his intent to visit the market alone. She nodded, though her curiosity lingered. Stepping outside, Akira observed the renovated mansion and vibrant gardens, feeling a surge of satisfaction. Offering a silent prayer for his mother's soul, he resolved to continue his journey with unyielding resolve.
As the carriage rolled toward its destination, the maid explained how magic had expedited the renovations. Akira, focusing inward, worked to overcome his motion sickness, gradually adapting as he prepared for the challenges ahead.