**Chapter 13**
—
After confirming Frakil’s death, Arthur immediately activated his bloodline ability.
In that moment, his entire body became encased in a black shell, and the fatigue in his limbs gave way to renewed vitality.
As Arthur savored the bizarre sensation, he gave a light leap from where he stood.
The feeling throughout his body was similar to the one he experienced when he enhanced himself using mana.
“Oh… So it doesn’t just harden the skin—this boosts physical strength too?”
This was a far more useful bloodline than he’d expected.
Which is why it felt all the more regrettable.
In the future, Frakil had used this bloodline to easily deflect knights’ sword energy and even magicians’ spells.
But now, Frakil’s bloodline ability wasn’t at that level yet.
*‘The fact that my sword pierced his chest proves that. Seems like the bloodline hasn’t fully matured yet.’*
Arthur smacked his lips in mild disappointment but decided to be satisfied with the outcome.
In truth, this victory had only been possible thanks to a string of fortunate factors.
Frakil’s overconfidence.
The hidden power of Undine he had kept secret till the end.
And several other variables.
If even one of those elements had been missing, the battle would’ve become a hard-fought one—and the result could have been very different.
*‘Better to be content with things as they are.’*
Finishing that thought, Arthur turned away from Frakil’s corpse and headed toward the hut.
When he opened the door, a grating creak from the hinges rang out.
It snapped Arthur back into a state of vigilance.
Just in case—there could be traps.
The kind known as “trap magic.”
But his concern proved to be unfounded.
Contrary to expectations, the interior was quite ordinary.
A crackling fireplace.
A bed and desk nearby.
And a shelf lined with books—that was all.
Arthur swept through the interior with idle hands, glancing about as he muttered curiously.
“Hm… I heard dark mages’ lairs usually have all sorts of interesting stuff, but this place’s pretty plain?”
Just as he began a more thorough search, something triggered his heightened senses.
Following the impulse, Arthur crouched down and lightly tapped the hut’s outer wall.
With a dull *clunk*, a hidden panel split open, revealing a concealed space.
A spiral staircase.
“Knew it. A dark mage, after all.”
Nodding in satisfaction, Arthur descended the steps into the underground.
He wondered briefly how such a space could exist under this tiny hut, but didn’t dwell on it.
After all, mages were creatures who defied common sense.
After a while, the narrow corridor opened up into a vast chamber.
What greeted him there was a massive altar—and numerous corpses with heads and arms severed.
“Looks like he held rituals here.”
Staring at the corpses, now dried husks with every drop of blood drained, Arthur drew his iron sword.
*Shhk!*
With the slicing sound of wind parting, the hanging corpses fell.
Arthur gently laid them to rest on the floor, then clasped his hands together.
“May you all find peace in a better place.”
After finishing his prayer, Arthur stood and began exploring the dark mage’s dungeon.
But aside from the oversized altar, there was nothing especially notable.
As a result, Arthur’s steps eventually led him to a desk—oddly out of place in such a setting.
On the desk were several documents, a single book, and various odds and ends.
Just as his expectations began to turn to disappointment, he felt a sudden surge of magical energy.
“Hm? What’s this?”
He pulled a ring from the clutter.
As if responding to his touch, the ring emitted a faint vibration.
“An artifact, maybe?”
After a brief moment of thought, Arthur slid the ring onto his finger.
At once, the ring’s vibrations grew stronger, and a faint magical energy surged out, enveloping his entire body.
Sensing the change, Arthur looked into the mirror atop the desk.
Nothing stared back.
“Oh… This is invisibility magic, isn’t it?”
His eyes sparkled with awe.
From what little he knew, invisibility was a high-tier spell—very advanced.
Which made such an artifact extremely rare, no matter how wealthy one was.
*‘What a stroke of luck. Never thought I’d find something like this.’*
At the same time, he finally understood.
How the future Frakil had ended up as one of the most horrific murderers.
*‘He must’ve used this ring to ambush his victims. Lucky for me he didn’t use it in our fight.’*
With a small grin creeping up his lips, Arthur resumed rifling through the desk.
But aside from the ring, nothing else of value turned up.
Just as he was about to turn away and leave the altar, a book nestled among the papers caught his eye.
“…”
After a moment’s hesitation, Arthur picked it up and opened to the first page.
The neat handwriting began with a crude curse: *“F*ck.”\*
“A journal?”
Murmuring to himself, Arthur flipped through the pages quickly.
Frakil’s thoughts, plans, and daily life.
Other trivial details as well—each word painting a vivid picture in Arthur’s mind.
> \[I ran away from my master. If I stayed, I’d have lived and died a slave.]
>
> \[The escape was a success. I even stole something from the master. A ring imbued with invisibility magic.]
>
> \[They’ll come after me. The master never lets traitors live.]
>
> \[To survive, I need power.]
>
> \[The fastest way to gain power is to offer something in return. All magic requires equivalent exchange.]
>
> \[I targeted the beggars. No one would care or notice if they disappeared.]
>
> \[But thinking ahead… I needed better blood. Refined blood. Blood with lineage, so to speak.]
After finishing the journal, Arthur nodded.
Now he understood.
Why Frakil had come into hiding in the capital.
Why he had kidnapped the beggars.
“It seems he had his own story too.”
With that murmur, Arthur closed the journal and exited the hut.
Then, using the crackling fire, he set everything ablaze—the hut, the dungeon, and Frakil’s body.
*Fwoosh!*
Watching the thick smoke billow skyward, Arthur finally turned away.
His business in the slums was finished.
It was time to go home.
—
—
Arthur, upon returning, remained within the Bayern estate for some time.
Previously, he had ventured out recklessly in pursuit of a new bloodline, but now there was no reason to do so.
So he devoted his spare time to training even more diligently.
To accumulate mana more rapidly, he trained without rest and focused on building physical strength.
*‘Come to think of it, the timing was lucky. I came back at age 15… and at 17, I’d be right in the middle of puberty.’*
The future Arthur Bayern hadn’t had a bad build.
But there was no denying his body had been ruined by years of continuous poison intake.
Now, with the poison fully purged at 17, and systematic daily training, his physical development progressed explosively.
It might be an exaggeration, but it felt like he grew taller every morning.
*‘Physical size matters. Especially in battles involving mana.’*
And so, amidst those small changes, time continued to pass.
On one particularly humid day
—summer clearly approaching
—Arthur finished his early morning training and headed to breakfast.
As usual, the servants greeted him, and he responded politely as he entered the dining hall.
There he saw Irene and Yonel sitting close, whispering in hushed tones.
Arthur had entered without making a sound and tilted his head at the unusual sight.
Just then, Irene and Yonel finally noticed him—and looked startled.
“Uh… Son?”
“O-Op—Oppa?”
Arthur blinked.
At the same time, a faint curiosity began to bubble deep in his chest.
But he didn’t ask.
His chatty little sister would explain soon enough.
And indeed, his prediction was correct.
While eating, Irene suddenly blurted out a seemingly random question.
“Oppa, is there anything you want?”
“Something I want?”
“Yeah! Is there anything you’d like to get!?”
Arthur chuckled softly.
Apparently, that was what Irene and Yonel had been whispering about.
Yonel let out a sigh and gently scolded Irene.
“Irene… We just promised to keep this a secret. How could you ask him that?”
“W-Well, Mom… I didn’t *say* anything, did I…”
“Just asking that question basically gave it all away, didn’t it?”
Irene stuck out her lips in protest, unable to reply.
Arthur found her reaction so endearing that a smile crept up his lips.
At that moment, Yonel set down her spoon and turned to Arthur with a question.
“Well, given the circumstances, perhaps it’s better I ask directly. Arthur, is there any gift you’d like to receive?”
“A gift, Mother?”
“Yes. Your seventeenth birthday is just around the corner, isn’t it?”
At her words, the corners of Arthur’s eyes lifted slightly.
*‘My birthday…?’*
Since becoming more mature, he had never really celebrated his birthday. He’d completely forgotten it was approaching.
Unable to answer immediately, Arthur fell silent, and Yonel repeated herself.
“Whatever it is you want, I’ll make sure to get it for you. This birthday… it’s a meaningful day for both of us.”
Her words caused a faint crease to appear between Arthur’s brows.
*‘A gift… That’s tricky.’*
By definition, a gift was something given to someone, or the item itself.
But to Arthur, it was the most unrelated concept in his entire life.
So it was difficult.
*‘I can think of a few things… but none I can say out loud.’*
The head of the second prince on a platter. The blood of someone with exceptional talent or lineage.
Say anything like that, and Yonel might faint on the spot.
*‘No… better keep those to myself.’*
So Arthur remained silent, and Yonel understood.
“Take your time to think it over. Your mother will make anything happen.”
With that declaration, breakfast came to a close.
The three of them went their separate ways for the day.
Later, while walking back to his room with Anna, Arthur suddenly asked,
“Anna. What kind of gift should I ask for… if I want Mother to be happy?”
“…Pardon?”
“What kind of gift would keep her from being disappointed?”
Anna blinked rapidly.
Then answered in a flustered tone.
“Um… Young Master? Isn’t a gift usually about what the *receiver* wants, not the giver?”
“What if the receiver doesn’t want anything?”
“…You don’t want anything, Young Master?”
Arthur nodded confidently.
Anna, again, was caught off guard.
How could the sole heir of the empire’s only ducal house not want a single thing, even when offered a gift?
Still, being the skilled housekeeper she was, she didn’t let her surprise show.
Instead, she thought from Arthur’s perspective and offered the most reasonable answer she could.
“Then how about thinking in reverse?”
“…In reverse?”
“Imagine that *you* were giving the Duke a gift.”
Arthur blinked again.
Now inside his room, he sank into thought once more.
*‘What could I do for Mother that would make her happy? If I figure that out… that’s probably the right gift to ask for.’*
The next day came with his thoughts still unresolved.
And the Bayern estate was in uproar.
Arthur, having finished training earlier than usual due to the chaos, asked Anna what was going on.
At that moment, her expression darkened visibly.
“Well… He has returned.”
“Who?”
“That man… Count Dortmund.”
Arthur’s eyes narrowed sharply.
“Count Cain Dormund. He’s returned to the capital. And he’s coming to visit the Duke’s estate tomorrow at 3 p.m.”
—
