‘The commander was right.’

As Iblin crossed swords with Theo, she became even more certain.

‘His talent isn’t just limited to swordsmanship.’

He possessed a magnetic charm that could draw in both allies and foes, a charisma that could seize hearts, an intensity that stirred the soul, and a fierce drive and yearning… he had it all.

People would call someone with those qualities by a certain title:

**Patriarch.**

‘The potential of a family head…’

For an ordinary swordswoman like her to even entertain such thoughts felt presumptuous.

But Iblin truly believed it.

‘Perhaps… he could be the one to completely transform this thousand-year-old decaying family.’

Some say that the Ragnar family currently possesses the greatest power in all history.

In truth, if the Ragnars set their minds to it, they could establish a new empire in the North.

They have the weight of a thousand-year-old lineage,

The deep trust of Northern people,

Battle-hardened skills and the latest tactics, honed from constant wars against the monsters of the Maelstrom,

Exceptional physical prowess that some describe as “cursed” rather than blessed,

And…

The backing of the Six Pillar Clans.

Yet, for all their strength, the Ragnar family was rotting from within, steeped in corruption.

Every corner reeked of it.

Iblin… had been a victim of that decay.

She had once given up the reins she loved so dearly.

Had stored away the sword she treasured more than her life itself.

But now, she had drawn it out again.

She wielded it, even with one remaining arm.

Her balance was off, and her skill wasn’t what it used to be.

But still, she found hope again.

Of course, it meant she’d have to push herself—and Theo—harder.

*BOOM!*

“Haah… haah…!”

“Hoo… hoo…!”

Across from her, Theo and Wellington staggered back, drenched in sweat and barely managing to stay on their feet. But their eyes shone brighter than ever, filled with fierce determination.

They wouldn’t accept defeat.

Yes, that’s it.

If one takes up the sword, they must carry themselves with such a stance.

‘Then… let’s see how far they can go.’

A sly grin spread across Iblin’s face, baring her fangs.

“Try blocking me again. At this rate, you’ll fail the test.”

With a taunt, she pushed off the ground once more, reveling in the exhilarating sensation she hadn’t felt in four years.

---

Despite it being broad daylight, the light scarcely penetrated this shadowy room.

A middle-aged man adjusted the glasses perched on his nose as he reviewed the document handed to him by a servant.

“These are the files on ‘him’?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Leave us.”

The middle-aged man waved dismissively, his gaze fixed intently on the documents.

In his hands were recent photographs capturing Theo with Julius and Iblin in lively conversation.

“The infamous ‘idiot of the Rose Palace’ is meeting with the White Guard Commander… Ha, he’s certainly moving up in the world.”

His gaze toward Theo was filled with a singular emotion:

**Contempt.**

It was as if he were staring at a sewer rat.

「You shouldn’t dismiss it so lightly.」

The middle-aged man’s expression tightened as a voice echoed from above him.

Looking up, he saw the shadowy head of a dragon protruding from the ceiling.

“I told you not to show yourself without my permission, Schatten.”

The Shadow Dragon.

A rare dragon species known for its unique appearance and abilities.

Now on the brink of extinction, with fewer than a hundred individuals left, Schatten was their leader.

This information, however, was strictly classified and unknown to the outside world.

As such, Schatten was forced to live within the shadows and harbored a deep resentment about it.

「It’s suffocating in here. How much longer are you going to make me hide like a rat? I want to get out there!」

“It’s not time yet.”

「Time, time, time… Enough about time! It’s peeling away, you know?」

“Spare me the theatrics. What did you mean by saying this isn’t something to take lightly?”

「I meant exactly that. Do you see the other person in the photograph?」

The man squinted at the photograph of Iblin.

“This cripple?”

「Yes, her.」

“And why should I care?”

「That’s Iblin Nereville, the overseer of the Fourth Training Ground.」

“Is that supposed to mean anything to me?”

「She’s a former Senior Guard of the White Guard.」

“Oh?”

「In her prime, rumors spread that she was the commander’s right hand.」

A faint memory surfaced in the man’s mind, a memory he had pushed aside.

The day Julius stormed into the Elder Council, causing an uproar and leaving several elders in shambles.

Normally composed, Julius’s outburst had sent shockwaves throughout the council.

Injured elders demanded immediate disciplinary action, but in the end, the council decided to let it slide.

Julius had the full trust of the family head, and publicly announcing that a mere commander had left the council in ruins would only damage their reputation.

‘They said he’d caused the uproar over a woman…’

「So you do remember.」

The man nodded slowly.

“A little. But why does this matter?”

「Lately, she’s been spending every day with that ‘idiot of the Rose Palace.’」

“What?”

「From what I’ve seen, she’s taken on the role of his swordsmanship teacher.」

“A former White Guard commander’s hound… taking on that fool as a disciple?”

「Bingo. It’s been about three months now.」

The man’s expression grew pensive.

If this were true, it wasn’t a matter to be taken lightly.

If Theo truly allied with the White Guard, it would complicate his plans to seize the Rose Palace.

The White Guard held tremendous sway within the family, something he couldn’t ignore.

‘And Rendon… That idiot failed his mission and died, throwing everything off schedule. Now this?’

*Tap. Tap.*

The man rhythmically tapped the table with his finger, a habit that surfaced whenever he was deep in thought.

「Oh, and there’s one more piece of information. Not sure if it’s useful, though.」

“Go on.”

「It’s about Narciso. The young master of that house has been spending time with Theo.」

That ended the man’s contemplation.

“I don’t like unanticipated variables. This can’t go unchecked. I’ll have to look into this.”

「Another scheme, is it? What is it? What is it? Tell me!」

Ignoring Schatten’s incessant questions, the man pulled out a pen, jotted something down, and sealed it in an envelope.

**To the Lord of the Rose Palace**

With the letter sealed, he finally addressed Schatten.

「Always so secretive! Just tell me!」

“Schatten.”

「Oh! You’re finally telling me?」

“You’re grounded for a month.”

「W-what?」

“You’ve been wandering around without my permission, eavesdropping. Consider this your time to cool off.”

「W-wait, Master! Master! Listen to me! Hey! Heyyyy!」

Ignoring Schatten’s tantrum, the man slipped out of the room, letter in hand.

---

For the past three months, Theo’s life had been consumed by training.

Every morning at precisely 6:00 AM, he would appear at the Fourth Training Ground for a run.

From 9:00 AM to noon, he trained in basic swordsmanship with Iblin, followed by consecutive duels.

Those who hadn’t dueled with Theo on the first day returned on the second, and those who missed their chance then came on the third, extending the duels until they became a tradition of sorts at the Fourth Training Ground.

They enjoyed training with Theo.

Physical training, sword drills, consecutive duels—they wanted to do it all alongside him.

And on days when they couldn’t duel Theo?

They would spar with each other, taking turns.

With Iblin’s guidance, these so-called “left-behind” warriors gradually improved their skills.

After group training, Theo moved on to his individual practice in the evening.

From 6:00 PM, he reviewed the day’s lessons.

At 9:00 PM, he delved into secret sword techniques he had begun to comprehend.

The endless cycle left little room for rest.

And it was clear that Wellington, once eager to join, was beginning to struggle with the intensity.

“Isn’t this difficult?”

Once again, after the day’s training, Wellington lay sprawled across the training ground.

Even a warrior from the rigorous Narciso family was exhausted.

“I can handle it.”

“*Handle* it?”

“Yes. I plan to increase the intensity tomorrow.”

“More…?”

“More.”

“…I’d wager there isn’t a single monster like you anywhere.”

Theo chuckled at Wellington’s exhausted expression.

He understood why Wellington was reacting this way.

But.

‘When you can actually feel yourself getting stronger every day, it’s hard to stop.’

---

Theo Ragnar (15 years old / Male)

· Level: 1

· Stats

Strength: 18, Agility: 16  
Stamina: 17, Mana: 195  
Intelligence: 16, Luck: -35

· [Unavailable]  
· [Unavailable]  

---

All his stats, except [Luck], had improved by around 20 points in total.

He’d even managed to chip away at his negative [Luck].

‘Mana has increased by a year

’s worth, and I’m seeing other significant gains.’

But something else had started to weigh on him.

For the past two weeks, he’d noticed his growth had plateaued.

It seemed the same routines were no longer pushing him forward.

‘I need something new.’

---

[Tutorial Quest #11]

**Experience Combat**

· Difficulty: D

· Reward: Beginner’s Armor

· Failure: ■■

---

‘So, now that I’ve opened my Aura Hole and trained, they’re telling me to engage in real combat?’

Theo’s gaze narrowed.

But with his upcoming Coming-of-Age Ceremony, he was restricted from missions outside Winterer.

Then again…

Perhaps something like the incident with Rendon would give him the opportunity.

As he pondered this, Wellington’s words pulled him from his thoughts.

“I wanted to invite you to a gathering. What do you think?”

“Pardon? Could you repeat that?”

“Were you lost in thought?”

“Just distracted by some other things I need to handle later.”

“Not an issue. It’s not too important. With only two months left until the Coming-of-Age Ceremony, some of us thought to gather, build camaraderie. I hoped you would join us.”

‘A gathering? Ah, the *Gathering of Dormant Dragons.*’

A social group Theo remembered as a gathering of talents of his generation.

Many in his age group were prodigies.

So much so that the family had dubbed them the “Blessed Generation.”

The *Gathering of Dormant Dragons* was born from this group and would eventually wield enormous influence.

The elders had tried to divide them, wary of their power.

In his past life, Theo had never even set foot in the gathering.

But now, he was being invited.

What irony.

‘It would be beneficial to connect with them, and it could also give me a chance to gauge their skills.’

Yet, was it truly helpful?

That place was a den of wolves; joining would likely just be a headache.

He remembered Wellington eventually regretted his involvement in his past life.

‘Better to decline. I’ve got plenty to work on from today.’

“You should go,” Iblin suddenly said, having overheard their conversation. “You need more than just training. It’ll do you good to clear your head.”

As Theo scratched his temple in mild frustration…

He noticed the invitation Wellington held was glowing with a familiar, ethereal blue light.

The same hue as the message window.

 

TL NOTE: Please don't skimp on the stars for the translation - it inspires me and gives me the strength to write more. Thank you~!

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