Episode 37

Delac C. Badniker, an unrivaled genius born into the Badniker family, was a name inseparable from discussions of the empire’s strongest. His accomplishments were nothing short of staggering.

He started walking mere days after birth, wielded an iron sword before his first birthday, and defeated an ogre barehanded at four. By seven, he had read every book in the family library and mastered their swordsmanship. At ten, he created his own. By twelve, he entered the Imperial Academy as a special exception and graduated after completing the entire curriculum in a single year.

Delac’s streak of brilliance continued when he received twelve blessings in his first blessing ceremony—an unprecedented feat.

To reiterate, twelve. Typically, three blessings marked promise, five signified genius, and seven to eight were so rare they could be counted on one hand throughout history. Even those who had doubted or dismissed Delac’s talent could no longer deny the vast gulf between his abilities and theirs.

Yet, he shocked the world again by receiving nine more blessings in his second ceremony.

No one knew the full extent of his blessings, but one thing became clearDelac ceased to age. His appearance remained that of a boy, though his pursuit of strength never wavered.

The following year, he took over as head of the family, raising their status from obscurity to a level rivaling the Goodspring family in just twenty years.

Delac was relentless in his crusade against the church. Any trace of its influence, no matter how small, he hunted down and eradicated. Time and sacrifice meant nothing to him. Despite his position as family head, the Iron-Blooded Lord always led the charge, personally slaughtering church members.

The emperor himself acknowledged his achievements, granting him a middle name and elevating the family’s prestige even further.

Finally, Delac ascended to the rank of Grand Duke, earning a reputation as the most ruthless and meticulous of all imperial Grand Dukes. He became widely known as the Iron-Blooded Lord.

***

—Messenger, is this man Kuset’s descendant?

The Martial God, who rarely revealed his presence unless the situation warranted it, spoke as soon as he saw the Iron-Blooded Lord.

—He is a remarkable martial artist. What a pity. If I had a body, I would’ve challenged him myself.

Wanting to fight him personally? Wasn’t this the highest compliment that the Martial God could offer a martial artist?

Nevertheless, I wasn’t particularly surprised. I simply observed the Iron-Blooded Lord.

Somehow, I had always known he would be at least this strong. This was the man who had inspired both love and hatred in my past life. The one I had longed to acknowledge me, just once. Yet, in the end, he never did.

As I studied his face, a complex mix of emotions surged within me. It wasn’t the kind of feeling one should harbor toward a father. This sense of dissonance wasn’t solely due to his youthful appearance, which made us seem almost the same age.

Due to his appearance, some people called him the Boy Duke. But even if he had been an old man, a monster, or the perfect father figure, I doubted I could have felt any paternal connection to him.

“Family head,” an elder greeted.

“If you’ve come now…” another trailed off.

The elders spoke in confusion, their words revealing that even they hadn’t anticipated the Iron-Blooded Lord’s arrival.

“It’s fine,” he said, brushing off their concerns before turning to me. “Luan.”

“Yes,” I replied.

“Luan Badniker,” he continued.

“What is it?” I replied almost reflexively.

No matter how much I prepared, I always wondered, “Did I think before I spoke?” whenever I stood before him.

“Please, go on,” I said instead.

The Iron-Blooded Lord asked, “Why did you think I was in the mansion? From the way you spoke, you seemed certain.”

“Isn’t it due to the blessing ceremony? No matter how busy you are, it’s a national event that you can’t easily ignore,” I replied.

Silence settled over the room.

“Even if you didn’t stay for two weeks, I expected you to be at the mansion on the day of the ceremony or the day before,” I added.

The Iron-Blooded Lord’s gaze seemed to pierce through me as he asked, “Are you telling the truth?”

“Not entirely,” I replied, meeting his gaze. “But for now, that’s all I can say.”

Whether it was fortunate or not, the Iron-Blooded Lord was exceptionally perceptive. With a calm yet commanding tone, he said, “Everyone, leave us.”

“Huh? But—”

He remained silent, offering no further explanation.

The elders were stunned but eventually bowed their heads slightly and exited.

I sensed their dissatisfaction. Even in my previous life, the relationship between the Iron-Blooded Lord and the Council of Elders had been strained. Still, I doubted any elder would openly defy him.

In moments, the room emptied.

By then, the darkness that had enveloped the room had faded significantly. The surroundings became brighter as if a soft light had been turned on.

“Sit down,” the Iron-Blooded Lord ordered.

Where? I wondered briefly before settling at the low table where I had placed the dagger and note earlier. It now felt more like a round chair.

“So, the truth?” he pressed.

I studied the Iron-Blooded Lord before answering. His presence was overwhelming, and I now understood why I had been unable to utter a sound in his presence in my previous life.

Yet, I noticed something different this time. Before, I’d assumed the Iron-Blooded Lord deliberately cultivated this intimidating aura. Now, I saw it wasn’t intentional. This atmosphere wasn’t a calculated display of power; it was natural, emanating from him without effort. He wasn’t trying to pressure anyone.

Realizing this, I felt lighter than in my previous life.

“Did you overhear the conversation between me and the elders?” I asked cautiously.

“Yes,” he replied simply.

“Then you must’ve heard about the assassins as well,” I pressed.

“I did. But what does that have to do with anything now?” he countered, his tone calm but probing.

I decided to adjust my approach. Even if he didn’t intend to exert pressure, his mere presence set the tone. His state of being had reached the pinnacle of intent. It was a level that I hadn’t achieved, even after a decade of training on Spirit Mountain.

I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to ease the tension that had built up. “You’ve known for a long time that there’s a rat in the Badniker family, haven’t you?”

The Iron-Blooded Lord didn’t answer.

“Yet you kept it hidden. Very few of the family members know about it. You’ve concealed your whereabouts often, so I doubt anyone suspected you,” I continued.

Half of this was speculation, and I knew this would hurt my credibility if I revealed my uncertainty. Thus, I spoke with deliberate confidence.

“You’ve likely been staying at the main house to root out the rat. The blessing ceremony is one of the few times the main house opens to outsiders. It’s an opportunity the rat would find worth the risk to infiltrate. That’s why you’ve been waiting, isn’t it?”

The Iron-Blooded Lord’s silence was telling.

As I spoke, he changed his posture, resting his chin on his hand. His expression remained unreadable, devoid of joy or sorrow.

Say something, anything. Just give me some kind of reaction.

For all I knew, my speculation could be entirely wrong. Perhaps he hid among the elders simply because he found it amusing. I didn’t know the truth, and the uncertainty left me flustered. This was the first time I had faced someone like him, and I felt utterly out of my depth.

Finally, the Iron-Blooded Lord spoke. “It is mostly speculation.”

“That’s correct,” I replied cautiously.

“Hmm,” he acknowledged, his tone neutral. He then turned his gaze toward me and brought up another topic. “If you’ve been to the Jewel Mountains…”

“Yes?” I prompted.

“Did you meet Carzakh?” he asked.

I was slightly surprised. He knew Carzakh’s whereabouts.

“How did you know?” I asked.

“It is a feeling,” he answered.

I was at a loss for words.

“To be precise, it is a sixth sense,” he added.

Ah, is it a blessing?

“How is Carzakh?”

I hesitated before replying, “The situation is a bit complicated.”

“What do you mean?” he pressed.

“Let me recount what happened,” I said.

I recounted most of my experiences in the Jewel Mountains: being chased by assassins, entering the giant cave during the crisis, Carzakh, the subsequent killing of the Jewel Beast, and the priest who appeared at the last moment.

I only hid one thing, the encounter with the Martial God.

After listening, the Iron-Blooded Lord fell silent briefly before remarking, “You defeated the Sapphire Snake.”

“Yes,” I confirmed.

He paused again, then nodded. “I see. Very well. You may go now.”

“What?” I blurted out.

He closed his mouth as if he had said all he needed to say.

I couldn’t tell how he had taken my words or what would happen next. Would I face disciplinary action? What about the blessing ceremony? Would I still be allowed to attend?

He offered no further explanation. Instead, he simply looked away as if he had lost interest.

Can I assume that the crisis has passed?

I didn’t know.

Ironically, I felt amused the moment he looked away.

At the same time, I was relieved to leave. But more than reassurance or joy, my pride plummeted to the bottom. Somehow, I felt that leaving this place would be no different from my previous life.

True, Kayan hadn’t injured me. I had mastered the First Fire Technique, defeated a Jewel Beast, encountered the Martial God, obtained the Seven Sins Sword, and even struck Hector on the back of his stupid head.

These were achievements far beyond anything I’d accomplished in my previous life. But what was the point of it all if I didn’t earn the Iron-Blooded Lord’s recognition?

I remained seated, glaring at him. “Father.”

His gaze shifted back to me, devoid of killing intent but filled with bleakness.

As far as I knew, of his many children, only three called him “Father.” I had never used that term for him before. Yet here I was, addressing him as such.

“Make a deal with me,” I suggested.

To persuade him to accept my proposal, I had no choice but to appeal to whatever faint trace of affection still lingered between us.

***

The Iron-Blooded Lord fell silent for a long time. The only difference this time was that his eyes remained fixed on me.

I didn’t evade it. Though the pressure was unusual, I managed to endure it by thinking of my master.

At last, the Iron-Blooded Lord spoke. “A deal, you say?”

“Yes.”

He just tilted his head. “What deal?”

His tone was blunt—rude, even, depending on the listener—but he was never one to care for formalities.

I inwardly sighed. Why had it taken so long to hear those words?

“First of all, there is something I didn’t tell you earlier. Osel was a significant figure among the traitorous Fang Knights,” I said.

“A significant figure?”

“Yes,” I confirmed. “I obtained the map from him. If interpreted correctly, it will lead you to the church’s base in the mountains.”

For the first time, the Iron-Blooded Lord’s expression changed.

This was no surprise. The man’s sole focus was the church’s eradication, a mission that had earned him the grim title of “Executioner.”

“The number of assassins spotted in the mountains, along with the presence of a priest, suggests their base is substantial,” I added. “It is a major stronghold.”

The Iron-Blooded Lord hummed.

I tucked the map away for now. “Father, please spread a rumor.”

“A rumor?”

“Say that Luan Badniker killed an assassin of the church in the mountains and defeated the Sapphire Snake,” I explained, gesturing with my hands. “I’ll be the bait.”

The Iron-Blooded Lord didn’t respond.

“There are still traces of the church within the family. They will know who Osel was. Maybe they even know this map exists. If so, they’ll come for me to retrieve it or to find out what I know.”

“Who knows? Even if the mastermind was bold, would they dare cause trouble in the Badnikers’ main house?” the Iron-Blooded Lord retorted.

“They wouldn’t risk it with anyone else. But I am Luan Badniker—the youngest son, a disgrace, practically kicked out of the family.”

Our eyes met briefly. Surprisingly, the Iron-Blooded Lord was the first to look away.

“It is a good trap,” he acknowledged. “Then what do you expect in return?”

I recalled the Seven Sins Sword in my room and replied, “I have a question for you. Not now, but later.”

“A question?” He paused, then nodded. “Okay. If it is something I know, I will answer.”

I waited for him to continue.

“Separately, you’re free to participate in the blessing ceremony, or not. Whatever you choose, the family won’t interfere,” he added.

He was a man of his word. I doubted anyone in the family, whether a collector or the Council of Elders, would trouble me again.

“I will participate in the blessing ceremony,” I declared.

I meant it. Honestly, I was curious. Now that I had returned, would I still receive no blessing at all?

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