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Chapter – 04
The Youngest Young Master Has Changed (4)
“Are you alright, Young Master…?”
Shakron, the youngest young master of the collapsing Count Mideos family, had become an entirely different person.
Serina had felt uneasy for the past few days at the sight of Shakron, whose gaze and behavior were overflowing with confidence.
Just being near him made her feel an unfamiliar killing intent she had never experienced in her entire life.
That wasn’t all.
The wooden sword he had brought still carried traces of lingering sword energy.
Carefully, she took his coat and, along with it, received the wooden sword.
‘Even though it’s been quite a while since the battle… there’s still this much sword energy left?’
Serina’s pupils trembled rapidly as she read the traces and flow left on the wooden sword.
As far as Shakron knew—though she didn’t even know that he knew—Serina was a princess from the Mage Kingdom, Besait.
Since she was quite skilled in magic, she could easily read the level of “sword energy” embedded in a blade.
After all, it was still based on mana. Only the manifestation structure was different.
It had been about an hour since the battle with Villan and Alex.
Yet the sword energy remaining on the wooden blade was equivalent to a four-star level of power.
At that level…
It meant that an hour ago, it had contained at least six-star level power. No exaggeration. No embellishment.
For a moment, the curiosity she had been suppressing almost burst out. She almost couldn’t stop herself from asking Shakron.
The fallen princess of the Mage Kingdom.
On the Western Continent, there were still pursuers hunting her.
Those who sought to erase the royal bloodline of the Mage Kingdom. Serina was living quietly, evading their eyes.
The Southern Great Territory of the Western Continent was an excellent place of refuge.
At that moment—
“Serina. Did you put something heavy on your shoulders? Why are you slouching like that? Straighten your chest and shoulders.”
“Ahh, Young Master!”
Shakron firmly lifted Serina’s slender shoulders upward, making her body rise slightly.
If he had applied a bit more force, she would have been lifted off the ground.
‘He’s definitely different. How can someone change this much in just a few days…?’
Could someone who once struggled to lift a wooden sword with both hands change overnight like this?
Serina couldn’t understand it.
Even in the Mage Kingdom, there was no secret art that could improve physical ability so drastically.
If such a thing existed, everyone would have used it.
Because in the Mage Kingdom, people always believed they would even sell their souls if it meant gaining power.
As her questions kept piling up, Shakron, unaware of her inner thoughts, spoke casually.
“From now on, no one will nag you anymore. And no one will order you around either.”
“Pardon?”
“I’ve already spoken with my father. You don’t have to worry about the main house anymore. Ignore them.”
“Suddenly…?”
“What do you mean suddenly? They’ve always treated us like this. We’ll just do the same.”
The way he said “them” carried a distant, detached tone.
It was not a word used toward family with emotional bonds.
Of course, Serina understood him. The sorrow he carried was far too deep to measure.
Shakron glanced out the window.
Just then, she saw several priests from the healing order rushing into the main estate.
They were likely summoned to treat Villan, who was half unconscious.
‘With my current level, I could even enter the Imperial Knight Order at the top rank. That’s enough to measure my combat ability.’
Shakron closed the curtain again.
In any case, the matters of the main house were no longer his concern. As long as they didn’t bother him first, he wouldn’t bother them either.
“I’ll be away for a few days. While I’m gone, clear out the canvases and books in the annex.”
“Those are things you treasure, Young Master. Are you really serious?”
Serina asked with wide, trembling eyes as if she might explode any moment.
Before, he would have never noticed—but now he could read the meaning hidden in her gaze. Deep curiosity.
She wasn’t just a naïve maid who only looked at him anymore. She was a curious princess from the Mage Kingdom.
‘She really is beautiful.’
He had met many women as allies or enemies at the Tower of Radiance, but none were natural beauties like Serina.
Most were either heavily made up using extreme cosmetic techniques or bore traces of unknown surgical enhancements.
Having a beautiful maid—formerly a princess—was a kind of fortune. And she also carried amusing secrets.
“Yes, I’m serious. Clear everything out. Burn it if you want, or sell it for gold coins if that’s better.”
“…Understood.”
“I’ll take responsibility for everything. Just do as you’re told. Don’t overthink it.”
“Yes, sir!”
Obedience to one’s master was absolute. Serina no longer asked questions.
‘What on earth happened to you? There was nothing unusual at all…’
She was desperate to understand what had changed Shakron so suddenly.
The talent built over five years by one prodigy, and the effort accumulated over forty-one years by another…
All of it had been shattered by Shakron overnight.
Could this really be dismissed as luck or coincidence? No. It was something that would shake the world.
……
Serina’s gaze lingered on Shakron’s back as he walked toward his room.
Quietly. Very quietly.
The life she had planned to live in peace was beginning to crack.
No—perhaps it had already begun to fall apart.
One hour later.
“I still can’t believe that thing…”
“Why doesn’t the lord send a suppression force?”
“Isn’t that Blasian Orc too troublesome? It already killed five four-star knights recently.”
“A single four-star knight is worth the cost of five mansions… Losing five of them is a massive loss.”
“Even if we mobilize troops, there’s nothing to gain. No reason to risk it.”
“So we’re just sitting here waiting to die, huh… damn it.”
“What can we do? Frontier duty is basically a death sentence.”
Northern region of the Mideos territory.
At the northeastern border of the Southern Great Territory of Souviern, soldiers were groaning.
They were guarding the only path connecting the mountain entrance of Blasian Peak to the territory.
About 500 meters away, they kept their eyes fixed on a single orc.
They had no choice.
Because not long ago, five four-star knights had come to subjugate it—and were completely annihilated.
A single four-star knight could easily handle dozens of soldiers.
The fact that five of them were killed without even putting up a fight meant that hundreds of guards could die at any moment.
The Destroyer, Dukal.
Standing motionless like a statue at the midpoint of the steep slope, he looked like a gatekeeper of the underworld.
Just then—
“Hah! Looks like I came to the right place.”
A voice from behind startled the guards, making them turn around in shock.
They hadn’t sensed anyone approaching at all.
No one had noticed the presence until that moment.
If this reached the captain, disciplinary punishment was inevitable.
“W-What? Who are you?!”
The soldiers quickly recognized the newcomer as a noble youth and raised their voices politely.
But they still couldn’t understand why a nobleman was here.
“I’d like to go over there.”
The young man—Shakron—pointed toward the midpoint of the slope.
The exact place where Dukal stood holding two greatswords, guarding it alone.
“No way! Do you know how dangerous that monster is?”
“I know.”
“…Wait, are you saying you’re going to hunt it? Hah.”
A cold silence spread among the soldiers, followed by mocking laughter.
As if to say, “Do you think you’re worthy of that monster?”
“Laughing?”
Shakron tilted his head slightly.
He didn’t care what mere soldiers said, but he wanted to make them feel the difference in power.
“Hngh!”
He only uttered a short sound while standing still—but the soldier instantly froze.
Even though it was just a sound.
It was crushing killing intent.
The soldier’s face turned pale.
“You.”
Shakron spoke.
“If I return after cutting off that thing’s head, you’ll do whatever I say from then on. If not…”
“!”
The soldier nodded with all his strength, already guessing what would come next.
“You’ll pay for every word you’ve spoken. With your head, your mouth, or your hands. I despise people who speak carelessly.”
The soldier regretted his cheap words more than anything in his life.
Why… why did I say that?
But at the same time, he wondered if this noble youth could really defeat that monster.
Surely it would just be another failure.
Just another corpse added in front of Dukal, like always.
Whoosh!
Shakron’s figure vanished instantly.
When one of the sharper-eyed soldiers finally found him—
He was already rushing up the slope, kicking up dust toward Dukal.
A distance that normally took seasoned knights significant time to traverse.
But for Shakron, it took less than half that time.
And then—
ROOOOAAAR!
Angered by the challenger, Dukal swung both greatswords in an X-shaped strike aimed at his neck.
It was too straightforward.
Shakron charged directly without any trickery.
Whoosh!
The blades swept in from both sides like scissors.
But by then—
Ting!
Shakron was already in a place Dukal had never anticipated.
Right above the crossing point of the two blades.
He had used the intersection of the swords as a stepping stone.
Pushing off the blade surface, he leapt again—now above Dukal’s head.
“This is so boring I could die.”
At that moment, a chilling voice colder than death itself echoed.
Dukal’s face turned ash-gray.
