Chapter 15: Beric

Seventeen-year-old Beric was a rather peculiar child. Perhaps because his fiery red hair matched his temper, his fellow trainees didn't like him. It had been that way since he first arrived.

When the squad leader challenged him to a fight, saying he would crush him, Beric fought back until his arms and legs were broken, refusing to yield. In the end, it was only when he fainted that the fight concluded.

"He's a tough one, even if he can't win."

All the trainees called him that behind his back.

"Rest."

"Haah."

"Move to the shade."

In the scorching training ground under the blazing sun, when the instructor ordered a break, everyone staggered to move, but no one helped Beric up.

Beric, who didn't expect any help, simply closed his eyes and caught his breath. He would move on his own in a little while.

"Beric?"

Beric lifted his eyes at the unfamiliar voice calling his name. The golden hair shone brightly, but that was all he could see. His vision was blurry.

"Can you stand up?"

"...Who are you?"

"Ian."

"Get lost."

Beric knew that the Earl of Bratz had a bastard son, but he didn't know that the boy in front of him was that very person.

Beric didn't care. He had been in the training camp for almost half a year and didn't even know the names of his bunkmates. He certainly wouldn't know an outsider who had been living in the mansion like a ghost for a month.

'What a foul temper.'

In contrast, Ian looked down at him and thought quietly. No matter how many times he looked, Beric's characteristics matched those of a future Dark Knight.

It might be a prejudice, but for some reason, every Dark Knight he had seen had such a temper. They always seemed to be on edge, ready to cut down anything in their path and cause trouble.

"Your attitude is truly disrespectful."

"Ah..."

Ian splashed water on his face while scolding him. Beric, feeling refreshed, closed his eyes and opened his mouth.

Ian glanced back. Chel and Deo, along with the other trainees, were watching him curiously from the shade. They had no idea what the bastard son was up to.

'Shall I give it a try?'

Ian turned his back to them and crouched down. Pretending to give him water, he grabbed Beric's chin. A faint flow of magic power seeped through his fingertips.

"..."

Beric's furrowed brow gradually relaxed. It was as if the clotted blood in his body was slowly melting. Just a little more, a little more...

Thinking it was the water that was giving him this sense of liberation, he seemed ready to lap up whatever had spilled on the ground. Ian scattered the remaining water and stood up.

'That's enough.'

Ordinary people cannot absorb pure magic power. The difference in the density of the containers that hold the power is the reason. A magic user's container is solid and doesn't leak, but an ordinary person's is like a sieve, unable to hold the power.

This was why healing and illusion magic were highly valued. Ordinary attack magic could be poured into anyone, breaking their container, but healing and illusion magic required the transformation of power to be absorbed by the target, making it a highly advanced skill.

Anyway, what about Beric?

Not only did he absorb the magic power, but his reaction was immediate. Even with such a faint power, he was as desperate as a newborn seeking its mother's milk.

'He has potential.'

It was an unexpected discovery. He never thought a Dark Knight's potential could be found in such a place.

Ian smoothed his throat, which had become hoarse from talking all day.

"Yes. The back gate of the mansion is right there, but since I have to step outside, I need Father's permission."

Derga took the magic stone brooch out of the glass container and wiped it with a dry cloth. His expression seemed indifferent, yet there was a hint of suspicion.

"I have no other intentions. As I mentioned, going outside once drains a lot of my stamina. If both of the family's young masters are in such a state, the Telye clan will look down on us, and most importantly, we won't be able to endure the journey across the border and through the four seas."

It was a reasonable argument. Derga pushed the pile of documents aside and said, with a tone that seemed to be testing him, quite arrogantly.

"Going out often will make you excited."

How could he know if you had other intentions? Derga was already uneasy about the regular meetings with Mollin, but he didn't like giving you continuous opportunities.

Ian took out a letter from his pocket.

"The letter you gave me before. This is the reply."

A letter to Ian's mother. He used it as his answer, implying that as long as his mother was around, he wouldn't do anything foolish.

Derga slightly unfolded the neatly folded paper.

"Please add that I am still not very good at writing."

That much. Derga had already heard from the butler that the tutor had written the reply during class.

Rustle.

He opened the letter. The handwriting was messy, but the affection inside was unmistakable.

-Mother, don't worry. I am doing well here. The Earl, the Lady, and the young master are all taking good care of me. I will definitely try to get what you asked for. Please stay safe until I return. I send my love with a short song. When the moon falls from the sky, the sun will rise. There is no eternal darkness.

The last line seemed to be a code between mother and son.

Derga stroked his beard, looking at the sentence where Ian promised to get the gourd leaf. A subtle smile appeared, which he tried to hide.

"What did your mother ask you to do?"

"Father... didn't you read the letter?"

It was a testing question, but the answer was unexpected.

Derga raised his head and examined Ian's face. It was rare to see such a sharp expression, clearly concerned about his mother's request to keep it a secret. A smile crept onto Derga's lips, which he couldn't hide.

"Do I look that idle?"

"...No. I don't know, but it's a head ornament that Telye women often wear."

But all of this was part of Ian's plan.

In a situation where he had to hide his mother's request, he was acting as if he doubted whether Derga had checked the letter, even lowering his eyes and lowering his voice as if to be cautious.

Ah, he really can't act. It's not his style, and he has no talent for it.

How foolish Derga was to fall for it.

"I will go to the training ground from tomorrow if you permit me."

Ian tried to steer the conversation. He had already pushed Chel to get Derga's permission, but he wanted to make it clear.

Derga stroked his beard and nodded.

"If you try to harm Chel under the guise of training, Deo will cut off your head on the spot."

Saying such terrifying things to a child so casually. Ian bowed his head and thanked him.

"By the way, when will you meet Mollin again?"

"Day after tomorrow."

He would meet them again the day after tomorrow.

Derga frowned, as if thinking about something. Probably due to the opposition from the Countess, he wouldn't be able to take Chel with him then.

"Understood."

Derga waved his hand, telling him to leave. Even as Ian turned, he didn't forget to glance at Derga's desk.

There must be something related to taxes among those documents...

Click.

Ian stood in the dark corridor, thinking about Mollin. What exactly was the value they saw in him?

He wasn't sure, but it was clear they were trying to bring Derga down. Even putting Ian forward instead of Chel was part of their plan.

'If that's the case, the tax issue must be the most important. They suspect Derga of tax evasion.'

But it was also dangerous. Tax evasion against the royal palace was a grave crime. If things went badly, the charge of treason could be applied, and everyone with the Bratz surname could be executed.

If Ian didn't register, he would likely be reduced to a slave.

'No matter what, it's dangerous.'

If the Bratz surname disappeared, so would the family, and Ian's value would vanish, meaning his survival would be at risk.

A tightrope walk for his life.

Derga was trying to sell Ian to the desert, and Mollin was trying to devour the Bratz family. He needed to stay sharp between the two.

'But it seems they have planted eyes and ears in the mansion. Especially, they seemed to know about the letter.'

"Ian sir?"

A servant called him, holding a lantern. It was an invitation to return to his bedroom. Ian followed the servant across the corridor. Perhaps because it was the highest point in the mansion, he could still see the faint lights of the training ground through the window.

"Everyone is working hard even this late."

At Ian's warm murmur, the servant ahead of him smiled subtly. After all, Ian had been the one who suffered the most, being held in Derga's office all day. The servant felt a subtle sense of intimacy towards the boy who always brought clean food to the dining room.

"I have prepared a set of training clothes in your bedroom."

"Thanks."

"Have a peaceful night, Ian sir."

Meanwhile, in the training ground, the men were still swinging their swords and spears, their bodies still burning. Among them, the most noticeable was Beric with his red hair.

"Is that kid on something today?"

"Yeah, he's overflowing with energy."

"He was almost dead this afternoon."

Beric, who would lose all his energy as the sun set, was now swinging his sword without stopping even after everyone had returned to their quarters.

Swish!

Slash!

Beric cut the dummy's neck with all his might. It was the first time he felt his sword move as he wished. His heavy breathing was filled with joy and pleasure.

"Haha... This is it, damn it."

What was it? Was it the result of his training? Or because he kept collapsing during the day? It was a mystery why the image of the blond boy from earlier kept coming to mind, but Beric gripped his sword again.