Clyde made his way back through the castle halls, careful to blend into the crowd. His mind still buzzed with excitement from the library.
He hadn't just remembered old knowledge—he had proven to himself that he still understood it.
It felt… good.
For the first time since his rebirth, he had found something that truly belonged to him.
Numbers. Equations. Logic.
No one could take that away.
But his moment of peace was short-lived.
As soon as he entered the main hall, a firm hand snatched his wrist.
"Where have you been?"
Clyde barely had time to react before his nanny yanked him toward her, her sharp eyes narrowing in suspicion.
He didn't answer.
She clicked her tongue in frustration.
"You need to be more careful. Now that your siblings are here, you have no value. If you stand out too much, you'll only make things worse for yourself."
She scolded and her grip tightened around his hand. It almost hurt when he felt his fragile wrist be held this tightly.
"If you want a good life, you have to listen to me. That's the only way you'll ever earn your parents' attention."
Clyde stared at her blankly.
Her words were nothing new.
He had known from the moment his siblings were born that his position in the family had changed. But hearing it out loud—so coldly, so bluntly—still left a bitter taste in his mouth.
But he refused to show it.
Instead, he simply lowered his gaze and remained silent.
His nanny's frustration deepened.
She let out an annoyed huff before muttering.
"I should just exchange you for one of your siblings… at least then I'd be taking care of someone important."
Clyde felt something tighten in his chest.
Not sadness. Not anger.
Just… understanding.
She had never cared for him. Not really.
And now that he had no 'use,' she didn't even try to hide it.
Still, he said nothing.
Finally, the nanny let go of his wrist and turned away.
"Suit yourself. But don't come crying to me when no one else cares what happens to you."
She muttered.
With that, she left, disappearing into the crowd.
Clyde exhaled quietly.
Alone again.
But oddly enough… he didn't feel as bad as he thought he would.
After all, he still had something.
He still had knowledge.
And right now, that was enough.
As Clyde wandered through the crowd, he noticed something unusual.
A small group stood apart from the rest—detached, watchful.
They weren't servants. They weren't nobles.
Yet they carried themselves with an air of authority.
At the center of the group stood a man unlike any Clyde had ever seen before.
He was broad-shouldered and composed, his dark clothing simple yet regal. A scar ran across his cheek, giving him a hardened appearance, but his sharp eyes gleamed with intelligence.
Even from this distance, Clyde could feel the sheer weight of his presence.
It rivaled even that of his father.
Clyde barely had time to analyze him before the man turned his gaze directly toward him.
Their eyes met.
The man studied Clyde for a long moment before stepping forward.
One of his companions immediately placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Sir, we don't know who that child is. It's best not to approach."
But the man shook his head.
"It's fine."
He took another step forward.
"I don't sense anything dangerous from him. Rather… I sense something powerful."
His eyes sharpened slightly.
Clyde felt the shift in the air before he saw it.
The man raised his hand slightly, and suddenly—
Magic.
A faint glow surrounded his palm, pulsing in an unfamiliar yet captivating rhythm.
Clyde's breath caught in his throat.
His body reacted before his mind did.
The energy—he understood it.
Not with logic, not with thought.
But instinctively.
Almost naturally.
Without meaning to, Clyde tried to mimic it.
He reached out—felt the energy around him—tried to match the same rhythm—
The man's smile widened.
"Interesting."
But just as he extended his hand toward Clyde—
Smack!
Someone slammed into Clyde's back.
The impact was forceful, deliberate.
Clyde stumbled forward, his balance lost.
And in that moment—
The magic he had barely grasped spiraled out of control.
Boom!
A small explosion erupted between them.
The force sent Clyde flying backward. His body hit the ground hard, pain shooting up his spine.
The hall fell silent.
Then—chaos.
Servants screamed. Nobles gasped.
Dust filled the air.
Clyde coughed, his head spinning from the sudden impact.
His ears rang, his vision blurred.
But through the chaos, he could still feel it—
The magic.
It hadn't completely disappeared.
It was still there, flickering beneath his skin like a dying ember.
He struggled to sit up, his small fingers digging into the cold stone floor.
Before he could fully regain his bearings, heavy footsteps approached.
The strong man from before loomed over him, his expression unreadable.
Clyde braced himself.
Was he angry? Amused? Curious?
He couldn't tell.
But before the man could speak, another voice cut through the noise.
"What is going on here?!"
Clyde stiffened.
That voice—
His father.
People quickly stepped aside, clearing a path for the Duke as he strode forward.
His sharp gaze swept over the scene—the scorched floor, the lingering traces of magic, the trembling servants.
Then, his eyes landed on Clyde.
For a moment, there was nothing but silence.
Then, the Duke spoke.
"Explain."
It wasn't a request.
It was an order.
Clyde opened his mouth—only to realize that he couldn't explain.
Not without making things worse.
He glanced toward the strong man, half-expecting him to speak up.
But the man remained silent, simply watching.
Finally, one of the servants hesitantly stepped forward.
"M-My lord! There was an… incident. The young master—he—"
The servant stammered.
The Duke's gaze sharpened.
"Enough."
The servant flinched.
Then, the Duke turned his attention back to Clyde.
"Did you do this?"
Clyde hesitated.
He hadn't meant to. It wasn't entirely his fault.
But would anyone believe him?
Slowly, he lowered his gaze and nodded.
The hall fell into a tense silence.
Then, to his surprise—
His father laughed.
It wasn't a warm laugh. It wasn't affectionate.
It was sharp. Cold.
"So even you can cause trouble."
The Duke mused.
Then, his expression hardened when he looked at Clyde. It was clear what his father wanted from him this time.
"You will explain yourself. Now."