"I will avenge my brother!" he declared, his voice ringing out with a fervor that seemed to command the attention of all who bore witnessA wry smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I listened to the impassioned declaration of young Ryle Green. "Pfft," I almost let out a chuckle, momentarily forgetting that I was now inhabiting the body of someone nearly as youthful as the boy himself.For Ryle, in all his fiery determination, was still but a teenager – a mere child, really, when compared to the weight of the task he had so boldly taken upon himself. The notion of this green-haired scion seeking to avenge his fallen brother was, admittedly, a tad amusing to me.But then, a voice beside me broke the silence, a gentle reminder that I was not alone in my observations. "The Green Family's bloodline art is one of the exceptional arts," the speaker murmured, "which can boost the growth and acquisition of strength, while also enhancing mana. They are the only ones who have a green aura.
Gislain's features shifted, the momentary levity giving way to a more serious expression as he posed his question. "Anyway, do you think he will come?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of anticipation.Duke Ifrit's mood had soured, the once-jovial atmosphere now tinged with a palpable tension. For some reason, he no longer wished to partake in the festivities, his gaze growing distant and his posture stiffening."Don't you already see him?" Duke Ifrit finally replied, his words laced with a hint of cold disdain.Gislain, his son, was immediately taken aback, his eyes sweeping across the crowd and the tables surrounding them, searching in vain for the elusive figure. "Not there," Duke Ifrit muttered, his tone clipped and unyielding, "he's at the corner of the round table."Why had this bastard come, Ifrit wondered, his jaw tightening with barely contained frustration. Was it to once again embarrass their family, to sully the Ifrit name with his reckless actions? True, he had miss
Duke Ifrit's gaze lingered momentarily on his son, but the emotions that stirred within him were far from paternal. A sense of revulsion crept up his spine as he observed Ethan's actions."At least the boy knows his place," Ifrit muttered under his breath, watching as Ethan turned his attention away from the nobles and focused instead on the freshly served meal before him.Only a handful of aristocrats deigned to acknowledge Ethan's presence, and even then, their greetings were laced with unease. It was evident that Ethan's reputation among the noble class had suffered greatly, casting a shadow over his interactions with his peers.It was evident that the other nobles had little desire to mingle with Ethan. "They clearly wish to keep their distance," I observed, deciding it best to focus on the food and drink before me, content to simply observe the unfolding events of the gathering. I had seen enough of their wary expressions to understand the general sentiment.Despite taking over E
The silver-haired woman was as breathtakingly beautiful as I remembered, perhaps even more so with a hint of mature allure. Yet, to my surprise, she was glaring at me with an intensity that seemed out of place.'The dark blue robe signifies that Sia has already attained the rank of Elder within the Blue Magic Tower,' I mused, impressed by her rapid ascent through the ranks. 'To progress this quickly, even without the aid of a system or summons constantly farming experience for me in the dungeon – that is the true mark of a genius.'I had to admit, if not for the unfair advantages bestowed upon me by the system and my loyal summons, there was no way I could have levelled up at such a breakneck pace. Yet here was Sia, matching my speed without any such crutches.It seemed the gods had chosen their favourites, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy. Sia's accomplishments were all the more remarkable given the obstacles she had overcome through sheer talent and determination alone.
As I processed this information, my mind raced with the potential ramifications. What untold riches or powerful artefacts might lie within that alien realm? What dangers might also lurk there, waiting to spill forth into our world?And what exactly did it mean to be the West Front Commander in such a context? Was this newly discovered dimension divided into fronts, each requiring its own military leadership? The First List, too, took on a new significance – was it a roster of the most elite individuals tasked with exploring and securing this vast new frontier?"Other planets? Aliens?" The implications of Greenfield's words were staggering."And above all, the resources inside the Dimensional Dungeon are abundant. The Empire plans to launch an expedition to stake a claim on some of that territory. The First List is the roster of individuals who will be permitted to join that endeavour," he explained.I nodded grimly, finally understanding the significance of Gislain's accolades. Even a
"Two chests of gold coins, a Heroic Medal, and the position of..."“Advisor of Brightwing Academy.”Those who heard the final announcement were taken aback, their expressions shifting from shock to grim realization. The title of Advisor to the Brightwing Academy was not just any position; it was equivalent to that of a vice-principal—a rank held by a Saint-level powerhouse.Now, this young man, once viewed as a mere boy by many of the older nobles, was poised to become an advisor?They could hardly believe it.Such a position demanded vast experience, wisdom, and knowledge accumulated over decades, along with significant contributions to the Empire. The thought of someone so young stepping into this role was almost unfathomable.I turned my gaze to Princess Ladia, who regarded me with a knowing smile. “Do you accept?” she asked, her tone steady.The weight of her question hung in the air, and I could feel the eyes of the assembly upon me, each gaze filled with expectation and disbelie
By noon, everyone had arrived, and it seemed that all those invited were individuals of considerable importance, capable of significantly influencing the Empire. The Dukes, who typically preferred the comfort of their own territories, were present as well; this might have been the first time they had stayed in the capital for such an extended period.However, one notable absence lingered in the air—Duchess Isla. Her absence was hardly surprising, as she had a reputation for avoiding such gatherings. Instead of mingling with the nobility, she preferred to remain ensconced in her palace, immersed in her research on poisons and alchemy.As I surveyed the meeting hall, I took in the faces of those gathered. Most of the attendees were candidates for the throne, each one a potential leader of the Empire. I, too, found myself among them, invited to this assembly of power and influence.The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, each noble aware of the stakes involved in the discussions to c
“Is anyone willing to leave?” Adelaine repeated, her voice steady despite the strange sensation that had washed over her just moments ago. It felt as though someone had scrutinized her very being, peeling away the layers of her clothing and exposing her in all her glory. A wave of vulnerability swept through her, leaving her feeling both exposed and ashamed.Yet, she maintained her composure and scanned the entire meeting room, her gaze sweeping over the gathered nobles. Except for the Dukes, whose statuses remained locked from her view due to her lower level, everyone else appeared to be within her reach.However, there was one peculiar individual among them. Adelaine focused her attention on him, mentally reading the name displayed on her status screen.‘Ethan Ifrit… level 90? So weak?’She cast a quick glance in his direction, noting his unassuming demeanour before shifting her focus back to the rest of the assembly. The contrast between Ethan's apparent weakness and the power radi