"You little bastard!" Edric growled through gritted teeth, his entire body shaking violently, his knuckles turning white as he clenched the staff—almost as if he might snap it in half.
"Hahaha…" Lucien laughed. "Edric, don't forget—as long as Grandfather is alive, this pendant still has its power."
"AAA!!!" Edric roared, swinging the staff at Lucien.
Lucien was startled; he hadn't expected Edric to lose control and attack him, no matter the consequences.
"Stop!" At that very moment, an old but commanding voice echoed through the hall.
An elderly man, looking to be around seventy, strode into the grand hall.
He had a full beard and long hair neatly tied back. Though his beard and hair were white as snow and his face lined with the marks of time, his eyes were still sharp and filled with authority.
His body was tall and sturdy—even at a glance, it was clear he seemed stronger than Edric.
"Grandfather!" Seeing the old man, Lucien immediately called out in delight, while Edric grit his teeth, looking as though he had just bitten into ten hot peppers.
That was right—this was Lucien's grandfather, Edric's father, Theobald Vortan.
When he saw Lucien, Theobald's stern, angry expression suddenly softened: "Ah, my grandson, how was the banquet?"
"Huh!" Edric snorted and shouted, "Father, do you even know what he's done? He's about to ruin our entire family!"
Theobald frowned, his gaze shifting from Edric to Lucien, then asked with concern, "What happened?"
"Grandfather…" Lucien recounted everything that had happened.
"Hahahaha…" Theobald suddenly burst out laughing.
"Father!" Edric could no longer remain calm and shouted, "Why are you laughing? We're about to be executed by the Queen!"
Theobald shot Edric a look full of disdain. "Huh! Are you stupid?"
Then he looked at Lucien, his gaze entirely different from how he looked at Edric—now it was filled with satisfaction and pride. "Lucien, you did exactly the right thing."
"Sometimes, even if it costs us our lives, we must protect what must be protected."
"I also don't believe that Prince Lathel is the type to use his power to force Selvia to marry him."
"Father, what are you even talking about?" Edric was completely lost.
Hadn't Lucien just made a scene at Prince Lathel's birthday banquet? Why was his father praising Lucien for doing the right thing?
Could it be… both his father and Lucien had lost their minds?
"Huh!" Theobald snorted disdainfully. "Are you dumb? If the Queen didn't stop or punish you and Lucien, it means she tacitly approves of what Lucien did."
"That…" Edric scratched his head.
He felt Theobald's words made sense, but also seemed off… though he couldn't figure out exactly what was wrong.
Theobald turned to Edric and said, "Don't worry—just go back to the Magic Academy and prepare to face Lathel as best you can."
"Fight with all you've got. Even if you kill Lathel, I won't blame you. If the sky falls, I'll hold it up for you."
"Grandfather…" Lucien was so moved that his eyes brimmed with tears.
In this life, aside from his mother, Selvia and his grandfather were the two people who had treated him the best.
That's why he swore he would protect them—protect everyone he loved.
Edric, on the other hand, clutched his head, feeling like the world had gone mad.
How could his own father speak so casually about killing the prince?
Lucien lowered his head, hugged Theobald tightly, then immediately left.
He wanted to return to the magic academy as soon as possible to train for the upcoming duel.
He wanted Lathel to lose in the most complete and humiliating way possible.
For that, he needed to become even stronger—not only to defeat Lathel, but also to face the Royal Family of Terith.
Yes, deep in his heart, he had already decided—he would kill Lathel.
As Lucien left, Edric gritted his teeth and asked, "Father, are you insane? Why didn't you stop him—instead, you encouraged him?"
"Huh!" Theobald frowned, clearly displeased. "What do you mean? Am I not allowed to support my own grandson?"
"But… he's—" Edric stammered.
"I don't care what he is. All I care about is that he's my grandson, and that's enough," Theobald said gruffly. "At the very least, compared to your good-for-nothing sons who only know how to waste their lives, he's a hundred times better."
Edric hung his head, his face flushing red with shame—though he was also so angry that his fists clenched tight.
How could he have ended up with two sons who were both useless—neither had any magical talent, and both turned out to be such fools?
"But Father, you can't trust him completely," Edric hurriedly explained. "Everyone in this kingdom knows what kind of person Prince Lathel is."
"How can you believe a few baseless words from Lucien? Besides, would you really let Lucien kill the prince?"
"Why not?" Theobald said resolutely. "Lucien has no reason to lie to me. And so what if he kills the prince? He's just a useless fool—his death wouldn't make any difference to the kingdom."
"Besides, once you step onto the dueling stage, life and death are decided by your own strength. If the prince gets killed by Lucien, it's only because he was too weak."
"You…" Edric gritted his teeth, truly at a loss for how to change his stubborn old father's mind.
"There's nothing more to say. I've decided, and you won't change my mind." Theobald declared, "I believe Lucien will win—he'll become a dragon, soaring across the sky. Hahahaha…"
With that, Theobald turned and left the grand hall.
Edric let out a long sigh, slumping to the floor, so exhausted he couldn't even stand.
"Damn it! Why did I ever have a son like that?"
…
Lucien returned to the magic academy that very night.
Two days later, at the academy, he was wielding a greatsword, swinging it again and again, bringing it down with force.
Every day, he would swing his sword like this a thousand times, then train his physical strength by running and learning to fight with other students.
Although he had no magical talent and wasn't an 'Awakened', he was fortunate to have his grandfather.
His grandfather had written him a letter of recommendation so he could enter the academy.
Carol Magic Academy wasn't just for those with magical talent and Awakened ones; it also had a separate area for ordinary people.
That's right, this area was for those who had neither magical talent nor any chance of becoming an 'Awakened'.
However, the people here were all children of high-ranking nobles, sent to train and serve as aides to the mages or knights at the academy.
For nobles, having a child without magical talent was already a disgrace, not to mention that if they died in the future, their family would have no one to protect them.
That's why they were willing to let their children serve as attendants to the 'Awakened' or mages.
At the very least, those mages might later protect them, or they might enjoy some privileges from serving such people.
Lucien was no different.
His grandfather worried that if he died, no one would be there to protect Lucien.
However, if Lucien could become an attendant to a Mage or Awakened, his life would be a little easier.
But Lucien did not see it that way—he did not want to resign himself to an ordinary life.
That's why he trained relentlessly, constantly pushing past his limits.
He wanted revenge. He wanted to marry Selvia. He wanted to prove to everyone that he was not useless.
With the greatsword in his hand, Lucien swung, spun, and used the force of momentum to cleave downward.
BAM!
The blade immediately embedded itself deep into the large log in front of him.
Lucien let out a long sigh. Although he had become much stronger, his power was still only within the range of an ordinary human.
Compared to even the lowest-level Awakened or mages, he was nothing but an ant.
Lucien stabbed his sword into the ground and sat down on a small log, panting for breath.
He looked toward the corner of the yard, where there were countless logs, each scarred with so many sword marks they were impossible to count.
Those were the logs he had used for training.
There were so many that they could be stacked into a wall over three meters high and more than five meters long.
Lucien took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, then stood and forced himself to keep practicing.
"Lucien! Lucien!"
Suddenly, a voice called out from afar—a chubby young man ran toward him, clutching a letter.
Lucien frowned as he recognized the person: "Billy? What's going on?"
Billy plopped down on the ground, gasping for breath, his layers of fat jiggling with every breath.
"Lucien… I… you… you're too late." Billy panted, his voice broken up by exhaustion.
Lucien frowned. "Too late? What are you talking about?"
Billy struggled to take a deep breath, then said, "Lucien… Selvia… she… she…"
Although Billy didn't finish his sentence, a sense of dread rose up inside Lucien.
"Hurry up!" Lucien grabbed Billy by the collar and shook him hard. "What happened to Selvia? Tell me now!"
Billy was being shaken but still gritted his teeth and forced out, "Selvia… she… she just had a wedding with Prince Lathel."
"What?!"