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Chapter – 03
The Youngest Young Maser Has Changed (3)
“Brother! Brother, look over there!”
At that moment, Seine, who had been glancing out the window, pointed in a direction with his finger.
Sharkron, who had not set foot in the main house for years, was walking toward them with firm, confident strides.
Even his walking posture was different.
The timid boy who used to walk hunched over like he had thrown his self-esteem into a trash bin was gone.
Now there was only a man walking with straight shoulders and overwhelming confidence.
Even though he was unarmed, there was no instability in his steps. No weakness could be seen.
“……”
Seine’s hands trembled.
It was because of the intense killing intent he felt when Sharkron briefly made eye contact with him.
It was only the second time in his life that he had felt fear just from someone’s gaze.
The first time was when he first learned swordsmanship under brutal training from his father, Crasus.
The second time was today.
Even when facing a ferocious beast that had devoured hundreds of people, he had never felt this level of fear.
Seine seriously considered where he would run if Sharkron entered the estate.
At that moment—
“The lord is coming!”
Fortunately, the butler’s voice broke the tension, announcing the arrival of the only person who could resolve this situation.
Crasus had arrived.
Sometime later.
Two men sat at opposite ends of a long rectangular table.
The table was long enough that even if three adult men were laid end to end, there would still be space left.
That length symbolized the long emotional distance and separation between the two.
With everyone else dismissed, only the two of them sat facing each other.
For more than ten minutes, silence filled the room.
‘First, I need to get myself a decent weapon.’
Sharkron stared directly at Crasus while thinking about something else entirely.
‘For a military family, there isn’t even a single proper inherited sword. Ridiculous. And he still has that habit of dragging things out.’
Sharkron looked at him with an expression that seemed to have swallowed a hundred sweet potatoes.
Crasus clearly knew the frustration hidden in his expression, but he remained silent.
What Sharkron truly needed to display his power was a weapon—any weapon.
In the Brilliant Radiance Tower, he had mastered nearly every kind of weapon.
Even a human femur ground into shape had once served as one.
He had no attachment to swords specifically.
Still, in this world, he needed something in his hands.
But he did not feel intimidated.
After all, he had lived 30 years in the Tower—compared to that, his father felt more like a peer than a parent.
Even the title “father” felt awkward. He only used it because the situation required it.
“Sharkron.”
Finally, Crasus broke the silence.
“Yes.”
Sharkron had no desire for a long conversation.
Everything he planned to do from now on would be his own decisions.
What he needed now was justification.
A reason to break free from the family’s constraints.
Of course, if negotiations failed, it did not matter. He was prepared to leave the count’s house anyway.
“Why did you challenge your brother?”
A predictable question.
Sharkron smiled and replied.
“Survival of the fittest. The belief you always emphasized, Father. I simply proved it. Is there a problem?”
For a moment, Crasus opened his mouth—but stopped.
Sharkron had perfectly embodied his philosophy.
Was there any situation more aligned with that belief than this? The victor is the strong.
Perhaps unwilling to show emotion, Crasus changed the topic.
“Are you satisfied, then?”
“Very much so.”
Sharkron spread his arms slightly as he spoke firmly.
Villan would no longer dare approach the count’s house again.
And that meant the future actions of Alex would also be disrupted.
Crasus narrowed his eyes slightly.
Then he said quietly:
“Power gained easily is easily lost.”
“Easy power? That’s not what this is. You know what I’m thinking—but you also know better than anyone that you’re wrong.”
Crasus had implied that Sharkron might have used forbidden techniques or dark magic.
As one who had received divine enlightenment from an archbishop ten years earlier, Crasus would immediately sense any demonic or corrupt power.
But nothing like that was present.
His thoughts became complicated.
How could his youngest son change overnight like this?
“This… cannot be.”
The words slipped out before he could organize his thoughts.
Even Sharkron, the subject of this change, seemed unconcerned.
Sharkron spoke again.
“If today’s events become public, it will be troublesome for you, won’t it?”
“……”
“The youngest son challenges the eldest and defeats him. From the outside, what would that look like? A completely dysfunctional family.”
Sharkron had no intention of reconciling emotionally with his father.
He was simply the same person as before.
But there were benefits he wanted within the family’s protection.
There was quite a lot he could obtain under the Midius Count name.
And if Crasus disapproved—if he wanted to erase him from the family registry—he would simply leave.
He had nothing to lose.
In fact, he had more to gain strategically.
There was no burden for him.
“What do you want?”
“From now on, don’t interfere in whatever I do. I believe today has already proven that I am capable of handling myself.”
Unlike before, Sharkron’s tone softened slightly.
Not to please his father.
But to avoid unnecessary trouble.
The core message had already been clearly delivered: do not interfere.
Crasus’s gaze deepened.
Then came the question:
“And if I refuse?”
Without hesitation, Sharkron replied.
“Then nothing changes.”
It was a declaration that force would be used if necessary.
At that moment, Crasus realized something.
His son was no longer the same person.
And he could feel the reason behind that confidence.
A powerful, overwhelming aura naturally radiating from his body.
Whatever had happened, it was undeniable.
Many thoughts crossed Crasus’s mind.
Should he extend a hand to the son he had long treated as discarded?
But the choice was no longer his.
The one holding power now was Sharkron.
Sharkron continued calmly.
“I am not Crasus von Midius’s youngest son. I am Sharkron von Midius.”
A subtle declaration: do not bind me to the family’s structure.
A carefully softened phrasing born from 30 years of hardened experience.
It would likely be the first and last time he spoke so politely.
“Sharkron.”
“As before, we each live our own lives. No need to make things complicated.”
“Is that truly how you feel?”
“If it sounds otherwise, I can make it clearer.”
“No. That will not be necessary.”
Crasus was not foolish.
And more importantly, he was aware of his own actions.
He had cast aside this son long ago.
Bringing him back now would only make that decision meaningless.
A contradiction.
Sharkron was right.
But there was one thing he still wanted to ask.
Crasus spoke.
“Let me ask you just one thing. What do you intend to do now?”
Sharkron’s lips curled into a faint smile.
He pointed toward the window.
Outside, the massive snowy mountains in the northern territory were visible.
Blasian Orcs
The Blasian Orc tribe occupied the Blasian mountain range in the northeastern part of the Sovereign Territory.
Sharkron had only one reason for thinking of them first.
The orc king, Guntar, possessed a sword forged from rare metals.
The legendary sword—Zerbinum Sword.
Though it appeared rough and simple, it could cut through anything in the world.
No one knew how it was obtained, but its current owner was Guntar.
And Sharkron wanted it.
No—he had to have it.
Because in the world of weapons, hierarchy also exists.
No matter how skilled one is, poor equipment cuts power in half.
‘And honestly… I don’t like the idea of someone else walking around with that sword.’
Sharkron smirked.
The Tower had always been a battlefield of survival.
Power is not something to save.
If something valuable exists, you take it before anyone else.
That belief had been forged during his time in the Brilliant Radiance Tower.
And it would never change.
Eventually, after walking while thinking about the sword, he arrived at a separate building.
A familiar and comfortable place.
At the same time—
‘Strangely enough… this place is also full of amusing little schemes.’
It was a place full of variables—especially human ones.
Creeeak.
The creaking door slowly opened.
“Are you alright, young master…?”
A voice greeted him.
The person who would become one of the most interesting presences in his life appeared.
Serina—the only maid of Sharkron, and his closest companion.
Serina Maybin.
The maid who stayed beside the discarded youngest son of the Midius Count family.
That was how everyone in the household perceived her.
She faithfully supported Sharkron in everything.
Sometimes like a mother, sometimes like an older sister, sometimes like a younger sister.
In his previous life, Sharkron had depended on her emotionally.
‘That was before I learned her true identity.’
Sharkron smiled slightly as he looked at her.
Just seeing that pure, white, sincere concern in her eyes made him smile.
Someone who worried only about him—how could he not feel gratitude?
But—
‘Things change when you know she’s the lost princess of the fallen magical kingdom, Besait.’
Sharkron knew her secret.
In his previous life, he had been shocked upon discovering it.
But now—
‘This is going to be interesting.’
Now he saw her differently.
A cute little “hidden boss.”
A person worth watching closely.
Right beside him.
Under the name of a maid.
