"Another bowl."
"Me too."
Despite the mountain of empty dishes already stacked on the table, Maya and Ethan showed no signs of slowing. They kept asking for more.
Sir Belvert, the proud knight of House Loen, let out a dry chuckle as he stepped out of the dining hall.
This was the main dining room of the Loen estate.
Belvert himself had arranged the meal—not out of hospitality, but for security reasons. The door remained tightly shut. Inside, only Count Leonhardt and Edrick sat watching the siblings eat.
Leonhardt broke the silence first.
"So. What do you plan to do next?"
Edrick had left the mansion yesterday afternoon, claiming he was inspecting the nearby villages. He returned just before midnight, calmly requesting a wagon.
But when the wagon returned—
A corpse.
A black mage's corpse, no less.
Marcella and the red-haired siblings were there too, but the sheer weight of the body's presence had drawn all attention away from them.
While Maya and Ethan devoured their food, Edrick had quietly told his father everything.
How he had infiltrated House Bearut under the alias The Liberator, assassinated Dvich, and retrieved the ledgers.
Those books had filled Count Leonhardt with fury.
"To think a noble would stoop to something so vile..."
And now, Leonhardt asked again, calmly but firmly—
"What do you plan to do?"
Edrick answered without hesitation.
"I'm going to advance the plan I mentioned earlier."
"You mean... the succession?"
"Yes. I'll pass the title of heir to Lyle."
Clink.
The siblings—who had been shoveling food into their mouths like starving wolves—suddenly froze and looked up.
Silence blanketed the room.
"Don't worry," Edrick said, glancing at them with a smile. "I'm not abandoning you."
The two nodded and resumed eating.
They had each eaten over five servings, but their hunger seemed bottomless.
Edrick turned back to his father.
"In order to reach the Third Star, I need real combat experience. That means leaving the territory for extended periods. I can't do that while tied to the responsibilities of an heir."
"Hmm..."
Leonhardt nodded, slow and heavy.
He, too, had once possessed great potential. But family obligations had kept him rooted in place, never advancing beyond the Second Star.
"And the siblings?" Leonhardt asked.
"Maya will protect Lucia. Ethan will serve as Lyle's guard. Once I raise them to the Second Star, I'll leave to gain further experience."
"How long?"
"Within three years."
"...Do you truly believe that's possible?"
"They can do it."
Leonhardt raised an eyebrow and looked toward the children.
They hadn't even begun mana training.
To expect them to reach the Second Star in three years was absurd.
But this was Edrick.
He never spoke carelessly.
"Very well," Leonhardt said. "You've never made a claim without backing it up."
The next day, Edrick rode out toward Viscount Purfield's territory.
"Edrick Loen, heir of House Loen, reporting."
"Ah! Welcome. We meet again since your coming-of-age ceremony."
Viscount Purfield, flustered, greeted him with a smile.
Edrick opened his bag and handed him a letter.
"A message from my father."
"...!"
Purfield snatched the letter and began reading feverishly.
It bore Count Leonhardt's signature.
And its content?
"I hear you were visited by the Liberator and are now sheltering 34 children.
If you lack enough work for them, send some to my estate with my son.
I also hear there are still over a hundred children imprisoned by House Bearut.
Prepare accordingly."
Purfield's face drained of color.
Just yesterday morning, the mysterious Liberator had entrusted those very children to him.
The note had mentioned Count Loen.
Out of fear, he had treated the children with utmost care.
But now—
He really sent someone.
And not just anyone—he had sent Edrick Loen.
I could've been ruined...
Had he been careless for even a moment, he might've drawn the wrath of Count Leonhardt.
Purfield let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.
Meanwhile, Edrick scanned the surroundings.
The manor resembled a fortress more than a residence—high walls, stone towers.
No doubt designed for defense against the sprawling eastern forest beyond.
A forest larger than three entire territories combined.
The same forest Alex was heading toward.
It wasn't just to confuse pursuit.
No—there was something there.
That's where the black mages are hiding.
The wind spirit confirmed it.
That way.
The breeze blew eastward.
The spirit had traced the residual magic from the ledgers, leading directly into the forest.
Edrick's eyes hardened.
They were this close all along.
He wouldn't let them remain.
The next morning, 10 a.m.
Edrick pulled his mask down over his face and slipped into the alleyways.
He'd told the viscount he was inspecting the town and wouldn't return until evening.
Plenty of time.
The hunt began.
He carried his spare clothes in a satchel, now hidden.
The wind spirit continued to analyze the cursed energy woven into the ledger.
This way. The trail's connected.
There were two enchantments on the book: protection and tracking.
The spirit was following the trail in reverse—back to its source.
They entered the dense forest.
Time passed.
It reeks here...
An hour in, the stench of black mana filled the air.
I don't think I need the book anymore. I can trace it without it.
"Good."
Edrick buried the ledger beneath a tree and moved on.
He had already copied everything.
We're almost there. The stench is awful.
Eventually, they arrived.
A cave.
Ordinary on the outside. Silent.
But the spirit flinched.
This place is a den of black mages. I can smell it. Ugh...
Let's see.
Edrick entered without hesitation.
The air was thick—damp, reeking of fur and blood.
Thirty seconds in—
SNARL!
Shadows leapt from the dark.
Black wolves—dozens of them.
Eyes and snouts missing, shaped by magic, not nature.
Beasts of the underworld.
Monsters.
They lunged.
But Edrick was already gone.
Slide. Step. Duck.
He danced through them like a whisper, dodging each fang and claw with impossible precision.
"Find the caster," he whispered.
On it!
If these beasts were summoned, their master had to be nearby.
Just like before, the spirit tracked the connection.
Got him!
"Charge the mana bullet."
WHIRRR—
Wind swirled around Edrick's chest, accelerating rapidly.
If he were a mage, the circle would've collapsed.
But he wasn't.
His heart endured it.
Now!
He extended his hand.
A bolt of mana shot from his fingertip.
Five times faster than normal.
Thud!
A pained grunt echoed from the shadows.
Edrick pounced, cutting through the wolves, homing in on the sound.
A wall.
He didn't stop.
His dagger plunged into it, through soft dirt—and flesh.
He felt it tear.
SLICE!
A scream.
He ripped the blade upward.
CRASH!
A body burst from the wall as Edrick yanked it forward.
The man tumbled, one arm flopping uselessly—nearly severed.
Stab.
Edrick drove his dagger into the mage's neck, twisting it deep between the vertebrae.
The wolves turned to dust.
BOOM!
The entrance collapsed behind him.
"Path," he muttered.
Got it.
A breeze rolled forward, feeling out the tunnels.
Found one.
The layout appeared in Edrick's mind like a drawn map.
Two paths.
Left was a trap. Go right.
Then—
FWOOSH!
Dozens of flame blasts erupted from the walls.
An ambush.
Edrick chuckled.
Brought a fire scroll… but I guess I won't need it.
How dare they!
The fire spirit's voice roared with anger.
One of the incoming flames split in two—clearing a path.
Edrick darted through.
Gasps followed.
"He cut through that?!"
He didn't stop.
He'd already mapped the next room.
The moment he heard the voice, he struck.
Clang!
His dagger met a defensive disc—black magic.
Blocked?
No.
SHHHK!
That was the decoy.
From below, another dagger—this one glowing with aura—pierced up through the mage's gut.
Straight through the ribs. Into the organs.
STAB!
The man gurgled blood and collapsed.
Lesson learned from his last fight.
To stop aura, they must cast defense manually—and choose where to block.
So Edrick gave them a choice.
Top or bottom.
And whichever they chose—
Stab!
Another black mage fell, vomiting blood.
They could cast all the magic they wanted.
But once a knight closed the distance...
They were no match.
"Monster..." one of them gasped.
And in that moment, he was right.
Edrick was a one-man army.
A blade that did not falter.
A Liberator born of fire and wind.