Chapter 25

Chapter 25
## Chapter 25

“Sir Eisen!”

Lucian, visibly shaken, reached out to assist the old man.

It was an unthinkable sight—the legendary Sword Saint dropping to his knees!

Yet, Eisen remained as steadfast as a mountain, refusing to budge as he continued his admission.

“In my younger days, I was consumed by pride. When I was just starting out, I managed to keep up a facade of modesty, but once I earned the prestigious reputation of Sword Saint, I allowed that empty fame to cloud my judgment.”

“An empty title? Who would dare suggest the status of the Sword Saint is meaningless?”

“It is hollow, indeed. By obsessing over that reputation, I failed to mentor even a single worthy successor.”

A bitter, self-effacing chuckle vibrated in Eisen’s chest as he delved into his history. His voice held the weight of a man seeking absolution in a final confession.

“I spent my life hunting for a genius. I held the conviction that only a peerless marvel was fit to be my student. I didn’t spare a second thought for those who possessed talent but relied on sheer perseverance.”

It wasn’t that his techniques required a genius to function. Rather, he felt that unless his disciple was a prodigy, the legendary name of the Sword Saint would be dimmed rather than celebrated.

Having climbed to the absolute peak of martial prowess, he refused to let any imperfection touch his legacy, even in the training of an heir. He desired for history to record him as a grandmaster who produced a flawless protégé.

“Consumed by my own ego, I discarded countless chances that came my way. I turned away, ignored, and chased off young candidates who had both the skill and the heart, simply because they didn’t meet my impossible criteria. And because of that…”

Eisen trailed off, staring down at his weathered, lined palms, and whispered, “I have reached an age where I can no longer mold a student into a true master of the blade.”

“….”

“Natural talent isn’t the issue anymore. There is a fixed span of time required to cultivate a warrior capable of standing alone, and I simply do not have that luxury of time left. It is quite pathetic, isn’t it?”

He had yearned to be remembered as a Sword Saint whose final years were without a single mistake. Instead, he had achieved a spotless, echoing nothingness.

Belatedly, Eisen felt the sting of sharp regret tearing at his soul. Even if it meant leaving behind something less than perfect, he should have completed his life’s work. The heavens had surely offered him several openings.

He realized his folly too late; those squandered moments were gone forever.

“‘Sword Saint Eisen passed away in his twilight years, leaving nothing behind.’ That was meant to be the concluding line for this wretched old soul. However…”

Eisen shifted his gaze toward Lucian and pressed his brow firmly against the floorboards.

“The Third Young Master has rewritten that conclusion.”

“….”

“I offer you my deepest gratitude, Third Young Master. Because of your actions, this old man can finally place the concluding mark on his story before his time is up.”

He kept his head bowed low for a long duration. A heavy, respectful silence filled the room as they witnessed the highest form of tribute a Sword Saint could possibly give.

After a long pause, Eisen stood up with care and turned to Felicia. She looked bewildered, as if the gravity of the moment hadn’t fully dawned on her yet.

“Tell me, child, what is your name?”

“It is… Felicia.”

“Do you possess no family name?”

“….”

“I am not asking this to look down on your social standing. My next steps depend entirely on your background. If you are of common birth, my intention is to formally adopt you as my own daughter.”

Felicia’s eyes grew wide, filled with an intensity that looked almost painful.

One of the rare paths for a commoner to enter the nobility was through adoption into a high-ranking family. While it was technically the most straightforward route, it was a path almost never taken. Most aristocrats viewed the introduction of common blood into their lineage as a stain on their honor.

‘Even when they had biological children, if those children were born to commoners or were illegitimate, they would frequently choose to adopt a distant cousin to serve as the successor. All to maintain the illusion of pure blood.’

Lucian felt a surge of cynical amusement, thinking back to the things he had seen in his previous life.

Regardless of their mother’s status, they were still the father’s own flesh and blood. It was basic human instinct to want to provide for one’s own offspring, yet these nobles preferred to hand their legacy to a stranger they barely knew. It was a brand of logic Lucian found utterly baffling.

“Speak up. Do you have a surname or not?”

“My mother did not have one. As for my father’s name… I was never granted the right to use it.”

“And who is this father of yours?”

“He is the current patriarch of the House of Roglan.”

“I see.”

A dark, displeased sound rumbled from Eisen’s throat. Lucian, standing nearby, felt his own brow furrow in annoyance. He was beginning to understand the depth of the trials Felicia had faced.

‘I was aware that the treatment of children born out of wedlock was inconsistent, but this is particularly cruel.’

For a child of a mistress or an illegitimate birth, their entire world was dictated by the father’s whim. If the father felt a shred of love, they might be brought into the fold as nobles. In the most brutal cases, they were eliminated the moment they drew breath to protect the family’s reputation.

Typically, they were treated as elevated servants, with a stark boundary maintained between them and the “true” heirs. But even without asking, it was obvious Felicia’s life wasn’t ‘typical’; it was hovering just above the ‘worst’ possible outcome.

She had been forced into the shadows of illegal trades like drug trafficking, serving under her own half-sibling—the person who would naturally resent her most. It was a calculated, spiteful assignment.

‘He is clearly the sort of man who views his own child as a blemish to be hidden.’

“What a spineless coward.”

A sharp remark dripping with scorn came from Grand Duke Sigmund, who had remained a silent observer until then. He didn’t name the target, but the recipient of his disgust was unmistakable.

Eisen gave a small nod of agreement and spoke again.

“From this moment forward, you shall be known as Felicia Brightner.”

“…!”

“There is a mountain of knowledge ahead of you, so steel yourself. Between your training with the blade and learning the ways of high society, you won’t have a spare moment to rest for quite some time.”

“Th-thank you so much…!”

Her voice broke with emotion, and Felicia, still on her knees, found herself unable to form a coherent sentence of gratitude.

When it became clear she was too overwhelmed to speak, Grand Duke Sigmund stepped forward, his hands coming together in a sharp clap.

“My congratulations, Sir Eisen. It seems you have finally secured your legacy.”

“Whether she truly becomes my successor is entirely up to her own effort.”

“Don’t play coy with me. This is a child who could perceive mana while still a novice, and whose instincts in a fight surpass those of seasoned warriors. With the right guidance, she will master your arts in the blink of an eye.”

Eisen responded to the Grand Duke’s praise with nothing more than a quiet, knowing smile.

Lucian, observing the exchange, processed the details he had lacked in his previous life.

Eyes capable of seeing mana.

If a person could see exactly where a foe was channeling their energy, they could effectively predict every strike before it landed.

‘It explains her supernatural skill with a sword. She wasn’t guessing; she saw their intent and moved before they did.’

There was more to it than just defense. Seeing the flow of mana meant she could watch her master’s techniques and see the internal mechanics in their purest form. She wouldn’t need long-winded lectures; as long as she saw the master perform the move, she could replicate the internal flow and master the skill instantly.

Paired with her natural combat instincts, her growth would be at a pace that defied belief.

‘She will likely be ready to uphold the title of the next Sword Saint long before Sir Eisen’s time is up.’

Lucian realized the true reason behind the profound respect Eisen had shown him earlier. Even though the old man blamed his own ego, he had never truly given up on finding that legendary genius from his dreams. Lucian hadn’t just provided an heir for the title; he had healed the old man’s greatest heartache.

“Once more, congratulations. Having seen such a momentous event, I believe it is time for me to depart. You’ll be occupied with the adoption papers and her training for the foreseeable future.”

“Indeed. Once the initial chaos settles, I shall bring my daughter to pay you a visit.”

Grand Duke Sigmund signaled toward Lucian’s party. It was a clear instruction to leave the new father and daughter to their privacy.

As Lucian gave a nod and turned to leave with the rest of the group…

“My Lord!”

Felicia’s voice rang out as she dropped heavily onto one knee again.

But before she could continue her pledge, Eisen’s hand clamped onto her shoulder.

“That is enough.”

“Sir?”

“You are not a sworn protector. You have just become the daughter of a noble house. It is inappropriate to pledge your life to another when you yourself have yet to earn a title or rank.”

“…!”

“To serve a master requires the proper standing. You may offer your vow of loyalty only after you have earned the rank of a true knight.”

Felicia’s eyes flickered with uncertainty at the unexpected rebuke. Lucian caught her eye and let out a short, amused huff.

“I’ll be waiting.”

As if those three words were all she needed, Felicia lowered her head, her gaze now resolute. She remained in that kneeling position until Lucian had completely vanished from the room.

—

The shockwaves Lucian had created rippled through the entire Lord’s Manor.

Beating Jordi and Joshua once could have been dismissed as a lucky break or a flash of potential. But this time, he had secured a major victory outside the family circle. It was no longer a question of ‘if’ he had talent; he had effectively positioned himself as a frontrunner for the family headship.

“At this stage, we can’t keep calling this a stroke of luck.”

“Perhaps the Grand Duke simply handed him the credit to boost his standing.”

“Don’t be a fool! Do you have no idea what kind of man His Grace is?”

“Look at the facts. The Third Young Master is now a serious contender for the throne.”

“This whole situation has turned the hierarchy upside down. The next few months are going to be chaotic.”

Until this moment, Lucian had been the underdog, and many doubted if he was even in the running. However, this achievement had vaulted his reputation to the same level as Joshua’s. In terms of sheer personal merit—setting aside the influence of their mothers’ families—he was clearly the more capable individual.

He was now a rival who could stand toe-to-toe with his brothers.

While the estate was buzzing with this news…

—Sir Eisen has named an heir!

This revelation struck like a lightning bolt, overshadowing everything else.

The knights and everyone connected to Valdek were in a state of shock. This was the Sword Saint who had famously avoided taking students for his entire life. And now, in his final years, he had finally chosen a successor.

“What in the world is happening?”

“Don’t ask me. If you’re so desperate for answers, go ask the Sword Saint himself.”

“Are you insane? I wouldn’t dream of being that disrespectful to a man of his stature!”

“More importantly, what does this do to the power struggle for the family head?”

“Wait, why are you bringing the succession into this?”

The other knights shot glares at the man who brought up the sensitive topic. However, he stood his ground, explaining with a serious face that this was a major shift.

“Sir Eisen might have stayed out of the fight, but there’s no guarantee his student will stay neutral.”

“And consider this: she is a daughter he took in his old age. He formally adopted her, so he must care for her deeply.”

“If Sir Eisen keeps his hands off, that’s one thing, but if his successor decides to back one of the brothers…”

“Shut your mouth, you idiot! Do you want to get us killed? How can you spread such dangerous talk!”

They tried to bury the conversation, but the idea had already taken root. If the Sword Saint’s legacy was thrown behind a candidate, the race would be over. Even those who believed in Eisen’s integrity couldn’t stop wondering ‘what if,’ and the more cynical members were even more convinced of a conspiracy.

The poisonous rumors began to circulate quietly in the shadows, and just as they were starting to become the dominant gossip of the city…

—The choice of the next patriarch lies with His Grace, the master of this house, not with me! Stop wasting your breath on nonsense and do your jobs as knights! Or if you prefer talking to training, resign and go become politicians!

The Sword Saint’s roar echoed through the inner sanctum of the castle. It was the result of a particularly dim-witted knight bringing up the rumors in his presence.

It was a short-lived outburst, but from that day on, the whispers died down. It was a formal declaration that he would remain disconnected from the political games, just as he always had.

Just as the people were starting to relax and go back to their routines following Eisen’s outburst…

—Everyone, assemble. We shall share a family dinner for the first time in quite a while.

Grand Duke Sigmund issued a summons for all his children currently at the manor to gather at once.