Chapter 5

#1

Humans often fail to react when confronted with something far outside their expectations or with sudden events.
They freeze up, lose their heads, and end up beheaded, fail to flee from a collapsing building, or go stiff with fear when suddenly attacked by a stranger.

Because such things rarely happen in daily life, the brain takes longer to process the situation than one might think.

And right now, during the magic assessment, something exactly like that was happening.

Children beating each other wasn’t unusual.
This was a world where strength ruled over everything, after all.

“A defective…?”
“Impossible…”

But the sight before their eyes was so far beyond reason that everyone froze in shock.
Even Medeia, who had seen nearly every sort of cruelty, covered her mouth in disbelief.

“Say that again. What did you just say?”
“I-I was wr—”
“That’s not what you said! Say it again!”

Crunch!

Blood splattered, teeth broke.
Golden hair, once dazzlingly beautiful, was quickly soaked in crimson.
Lawrence’s fist, burning with rage, was just as bloodied.

“I-I lo—urk!”
“No? You haven’t lost yet. Keep fighting harder, right?”

Lawrence’s hand clamped over Arthur’s mouth, silencing him.
With his other hand, he drove his fist mercilessly into Arthur’s stomach.

Everyone averted their eyes from the brutality.

The boy who had dared to insult Lawrence’s mother had to pay dearly.

Arthur’s once delicate face swelled grotesquely, his arms—raised to block—seemed broken, and the stench of fear was clear: his pants were already wet.

“Stop! Arthur Goldibane is unable to continue. The assessment is over!”

“….”

Lawrence exhaled, almost relieved, and flung Arthur aside like discarded trash.

Every gaze in the room locked onto him.
Some with fury, some with shock, and some… with interest.

Several mages scrambled to calm the rampant mana.
One even jumped to his feet, turning toward the great mage Edward to complain.

“Patriarch! This is far too cruel! How could such barbarity be allowed in a magic assessment!?”

“….”

Edward’s golden eyes shifted toward the speaker.
The man, too blinded by outrage, failed to sense the danger.

“Does that boy even have the right to call himself a mage!? That defective brat—!”

Crack!

The man collapsed to his knees.
No—he was forced down by overwhelming power.

Edward, the patriarch of Montemer, spoke:

“If I find no fault, then why do you?”

“Kh—!”

Rumble!

Mana crushed the man into the floor. Blood spilled from his mouth as he bowed his head.

“Lawrence is Montemer. Do not forget it.”

“…Forgive me, Patriarch.”

“I’ll overlook this because of your child.”

“Thank you for your mercy…”

Thud!

A blond man slammed his head into the floor.

No explanation was needed.
Everyone knew—he was Arthur Goldibane’s father.

“Lawrence, my son.”
“Yes, Patriarch.”

Lawrence, who had been observing how Edward’s mana pressed men into the ground, raised his eyes.

Mana rumbled, threatening to smother him too—but he held Edward’s gaze without flinching.

Surely Edward had noticed his unusual magic.

So what.

There was no need to overthink it.
The patriarch would shield him from outside pressure.

If he proved useful, he would be used.
That was the Montemer way.

“Come see me after the assessment.”
“Yes, Patriarch.”

Lawrence bowed calmly.

He had inherited a dragon’s power.
There was nothing for him to fear.

Others, however, were stunned by the boy’s composure.
To withstand the patriarch’s aura and remain standing—this was no ordinary child.

[The Dragon’s Power grows.]
[Hatchling: 6%]

The power within him had grown.
He now fully understood—every experience fed his strength.

Suppressing his thoughts, Lawrence returned to his seat.
Countless stares stabbed into his back.

“That’s… what a mere ten-year-old can do?”
“Now he may be only at the 1st or 2nd Circle, but in the future…”

The more skilled mages were shaken.

This shouldn’t be possible.

A mage must manipulate mana.
A true mage can sense mana’s movements.

Yet Lawrence had cast magic with no chant, no mana flow, nothing.

If that was his innate ability…

“A monster is born.”
“Why didn’t I notice sooner?”
“Has he only just awakened? Did the great archmage foresee this and keep him hidden all along?”

If Edward had known everything and kept the boy isolated, then truly, he was a terrifying man.
It would make sense, though.

Edward was the one who had raised Montemer into an untouchable house.

Envoys from outside houses tensed.
Edward himself acted utterly unfazed, as though this was expected.

Confusion swirled in everyone’s heads.

Lawrence Montemer…

They realized: a monster was growing inside the perfect shelter of the Montemer estate.

#2

Right after the assessment ended, Lawrence was led by Nicolai to Edward’s office.

Soon, reports would be compiled, rankings assigned.
The ones who won Edward’s favor would be selected later to join the Mage Tower or receive key positions in the family.

In his past life, Arthur had been chosen for the Mage Tower.
But not this time.

“Patriarch, I’ve brought the young master.”

Creaaak.

The door opened.
Lawrence frowned as thick mana filled the room.

He remembered the complaints of those who had visited the patriarch before.

<Every time I leave his office, I feel crushed.>
<Ugh, I thought I’d die again today.>

So that’s why.

Lawrence lifted his chin proudly and walked in.
This mana meant nothing to him—his body had no mana circuits to react to.

Sometimes, being without a mana core was convenient.

“I greet the Patriarch.”
“Mm.”

The room trembled faintly.

Lawrence followed etiquette, but then something surprising happened.

“Nicolai, leave us.”
“Yes, Patriarch.”

Edward’s voice was calm—no resonant mana, no shaking air.

Even Nicolai hesitated briefly, surprised, before leaving.

“My son.”
“…Yes.”
“That was no ordinary magic. What happened?”

For a moment, rage surged in Lawrence.

This man had abandoned him, let his mother die—and only now asked?
Now!?

His fists trembled.

“You must resent me. But remember: before I am your father, I am Montemer’s Patriarch and a mage who defends a world without Guardians. I cannot explain to anyone, but you must understand.”

“….”

Guardians.

The word stirred memories.
Lawrence had heard it before his regression.

Was Edward also bearing that heavy burden?

“Whatever power you awakened, whichever path you take—I will not interfere. My role is only to watch. If one day you walk the right path, then you will see the truth.”

His words were cryptic.
As if that excused his neglect?

Lawrence swallowed his emotions and answered calmly.

“Yes. I received a special ability.”
“Received, you say. A poor choice of words.”

What did he mean?
Lawrence couldn’t read his intent.

Edward simply stared, then continued.

“Whatever it is, I care not. Your duty is one thing only: to become a great mage inside and outside this family’s walls.”
“Yes, Patriarch.”
“Overcoming everything is yours alone to do.”
“I understand.”

No interference.
That was why his past life had been so miserable.

Lawrence didn’t like it.
Pure meritocracy…

Not wrong, perhaps.
But what if Edward had shown him even a little fatherly affection?

Lawrence lowered his head to hide his expression.

Anise…

Edward, meanwhile, studied his son with meaningful eyes.
The boy had only just taken his first steps.

A long road stretched ahead.
All Edward could do was watch.

How unfortunate.

If only he had been freer.
If only he could move as he had in Montemer’s golden age.

But now I am nothing but a puppet.

Suppressing his true feelings, he spoke evenly, meeting his son’s defiant gaze.

“Where will you live?”
“I’ll remain where I am.”

Lawrence answered without hesitation.
Edward nodded lightly.

Then he granted some privileges.

“If you need knowledge from the family library, come to me anytime.”
“Thank you.”
“Grow in your own way. I will keep watching.”

Lawrence bowed, then left.

As he stepped into the hall, he sensed movement.
A silhouette slipping away around the corner.

Eavesdropping? The Patriarch must have known.

His eyes narrowed.

Maybe this too was a test.

“I don’t like this.”

Nothing about the situation pleased him.
One day, he swore, he would reshape everything to his own will—
even if that meant walking a tyrant’s path.

For now, time to return.

He felt an urge to pick up a pen and start scribbling again.

#3

“Lawrence, that brat…”
“What will you do, Mother?”
“What else? He’s already far ahead of his peers. Half-measures won’t do. He must be crushed completely.”

Medeia chewed her nails as she plotted.

Now that Lawrence had caught the Patriarch’s eye, she couldn’t strike openly.
Even as matron of the house, there were lines she couldn’t cross.

Her plan: weaken him from the inside.
Break down his body so he couldn’t endure.

That was the only way to topple him without Edward noticing.

“This is the problem with great houses. On the surface, so grand and limitless, but full of restrictions and schemes. You must remember this well.”
“Of course.”
“First: don’t let that defective Lawrence surpass you. Second: earn the Patriarch’s favor. Your growth is the most important thing.”

Her words were law.
In a noble house, survival depended on such lessons.

She gazed at her children.

“He may bear the Montemer name, but he has no roots. If you fall behind such a wretch, or suffer at his hands, I’ll discard you before anyone else does.”

“…We understand.”

Her voice was cold as steel.
The children bowed their heads.

When they had left, Medeia summoned her maid.

Marin—her most trusted servant, more reliable than her own children.

“Marin, there are things you must prepare.”
“Command me.”
“Do it just as before. No one must know.”
“Understood. Where shall I deliver it?”

Medeia’s eyes glinted like ice.

“The garbage storehouse.”