As I stepped out into the bustling streets of the capital, I couldn't help but feel a prickle of awareness at the back of my neck. It was as if unseen eyes were watching my every move, cataloging my presence for some unknown purpose.Sure enough, as I wove through the throngs of people, I caught glimpses of figures lurking in the shadows, their gazes fixed intently upon me. These were no ordinary citizens, but rather a network of informants, each one beholden to their respective masters within the city's intricate web of power.While their curiosity was understandable, given the rarity of a carriage entering the capital, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease. Were they simply gathering information, or did they harbor more sinister intentions? The thought of unwanted complications arising from my presence here weighed lightly on my mind.I quickened my pace, my senses heightened as I navigated the labyrinthine streets, ever mindful of the unseen eyes that followed my every step.
I sat down at the table, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. Horn sat down across from me, his eyes fixed on mine with an unnerving intensity. As Horn sat across from me, his eyes gleaming with excitement, he exclaimed, "I can't believe you were really invited by the princess to attend the party!" The sudden topic caught me off guard, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of surprise.It seemed that the news had spread like wildfire, reaching even the commoners. I had thought that only a few high-ranking nobles knew about the invitation, but it seemed that Horn was also aware of it. The thought was unsettling, as it meant that my presence in the city had already been known. If Horn knew about it, then it was likely that many others did as well.I tried to compose myself, trying to appear nonchalant despite the growing unease inside me. "Yes, it's true," I said, trying to sound casual. "The princess invited me to attend the party."Horn's eyes lit up with excitement, and he le
Horn had, in effect, saved the man from a catastrophic outcome, and yet, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of fear. Had he really done the right thing by intervening?Would Ethan turned his anger to him?Ethan despised such frivolous displays of power and privilege more than anything else. Some may have labelled him a demon or a devil, but the truth was far more nuanced. It wasn't that Ethan engaged in outright evil acts; he wasn't like many nobles who toyed with the lives of commoners, nor did he indulge in the vices of women or drugs.No, Ethan's vice lay in his propensity for destruction. When the urge to demolish took hold, he would become consumed by it, losing himself in the throes of his compulsion. In one such episode, he had accidentally taken the lives of several nobles, his mind clouded by the red mist of rage.It was a burden Ethan carried, a dark self that haunted his every waking moment. He knew that his actions, though unintentional, had caused immeasurable pain and s
Duke Dion strode into the grand hall, his very presence commanding the attention of all who laid eyes upon him. As the capital was his domain, it came as no surprise that he was the first among the dukes to grace the Emperor's table with his arrival.[Duke Dion - Level 234][???]The sheer power radiating from this man was palpable, and as I attempted to analyze him, I found myself confronted with a wall of uncertainty. It seemed that my skills were no match for those who towered over me by more than fifty levels, their true nature obscured from my prying eyes.In the wake of Duke Dion's entrance, a veritable procession of his offspring followed suit. Sons and daughters alike, each bearing the unmistakable mark of their father's lineage, filled the hall with their presence. It was a display of familial might, a testament to the strength and influence that flowed through the veins of this noble house.The grand hall of the imperial palace buzzed with anticipation as the scions of the
Yet, as I observed Lance's measured movements and the subtle intensity that seemed to emanate from him, I couldn't help but wonder what lay beneath the surface. Was this merely a facade, a carefully crafted persona designed to captivate the assembled guests? Or was there a deeper, more complex individual hidden within – one who had earned his place among the elite through more than just the accident of his birth?A wry smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I recalled the memory of a time long past – a moment when I had, quite literally, put Lance Ironwing in his place. It seemed that the little "beating" I had administered back then had indeed set him on the right path, forging him into the formidable figure that now commanded the attention of the assembled nobles.As the accolades and praise rained down upon Lance, the nobles marveling at his unblemished record of victories along the northwestern border, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction. "Not a single defeat, huh
"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