Chapter 2

Young Master, here is the report you requested. “Yes, thank you. You may leave now. Make sure no one enters this room today.” He turned back to his desk, the weight of his decisions settling in. The solitude was essential; he needed to think clearly, to strategize without distractions. The outside world could wait; today was about laying the groundwork for what was to come. What? Why do you keep making me repeat myself? Oh, no. It just felt strange to be thanked. A sigh came out involuntarily. Haah, it's all my fault, indeed. The opinions of the servants would change if he changed his behavior, but every time he became aware of a mistake, his conscience pricked him painfully. And moreover. Young Master, are you really alright? You're not still suffering from a headache, are you? Crack. He nearly broke the pen he had unwittingly gripped too hard. Ah! Im fine! Leave right now! He shouted, yet Rick's expression brightened a bit. Yes, yes, understood. Please rest. Bang. Judging by the shouting, he seems normal. Go on and see to the tasks. Yes! Ugh The voices outside the door once again made his head throb. However, he couldn't afford the luxury to worry about such trivialities right now. What was immediately important was the urgent need to capture the fleeting thoughts racing through his mind. Hoo took a deep breath, focusing intently as he grabbed a pen and paper. He had to write down everything he could remember before he forgot. Each word felt like a piece of a puzzle, vital to understanding the bigger picture he was grappling with. To change the future. I must save them! I must, at all costs! And to save his family. While the memory was still vivid, he had to organize the key events of the future. Among those, the most crucial was clear. The imperial war. A war that would break out ten years later. The disaster that not only brought ruin to his family and younger brother but also the entire nation, triggered by the emergence of Ronian McLain, the youngest Aura user from the wavering McLain household. He had to plan to prevent that. At the very least, I need to grow the power to influence this country until then. And so, he needed to turn each trial that would come upon the family into a chance for growth. Especially. The Territory War will happen in a year. A Territory War that erupted suddenly at an unexpected time. The first trial that needed to be addressed was precisely that. Originally, as a result of it, the family was halved, and it wasnt until Ronian became an Aura user that theyd go through dark times. It was an imminent crisis that would strike in one year. But I can do it. Knowing the future was an unparalleled advantage. Ablaze with hope, Logan passionately scribbled down his thoughts. Thump. Hoo! That should do it. Logan rose from his seat with a sigh of relief. He had recorded all the information in a code known only to him at the current time. In the code used by the Grandia Liberation Front thirty years in the future. Even if someone else saw it, they would be clueless. Just in case, Logan had coded the details in a way that only he could understand. The information he had written was, in a literal sense, the affairs of the future. Each line held significance, veiled in metaphors and symbols that concealed the true meaning. He knew the stakes were high, and any slip could alter everything he was working toward. Even if this document were to spread now, it wouldn't be possible to figure out what happened to him overnight, but suspicions about the source of the information would start to grow over time. And if it ever spread that he had regressed to the past, the Order of the Nine Great Gods, the continent's most powerful force with a different significance from the Empire, would turn against him. Their strict adherence to the natural order mandated that such phenomena were not only impossible but also heretical. He could already imagine the whispers in the shadows, the hunters sent to eliminate him. His only hope lay in keeping his secrets buried, ensuring that no one uncovered the truth of his extraordinary journey through time. He had seen more than once how the dogmatic Order dealt with heretics or those who committed blasphemy. The moment he got entangled, not only he but also his family would not escape disaster. Therefore, it was a secret he couldn't reveal even to his closest allies. He checked the content on the paper carefully once more to make sure there was no error or chance of leakage. Good. Only then did he start his second task. In some respects, this was as important as the information about the future. The Manual of the Gods Sword. A tome embroidered with a golden hawk, which Logan had burned before returning to the past. The grand manual named Gods Swordsmanship was indeed a treasure of worth. A hero who had conquered the evil dragons ruling the ancient world and ushered in the Age of Men. A manual from the ancient hero who was later worshiped even as a Sword God was, in the current continent where an individuals power could determine social status and authority, an invaluable treasure. The imperial high command celebrated upon hearing about the retrieval of such a manual from the ruins, and the Grandia Liberation Front was ready to sacrifice most of its elite to secure it. He was its last owner. He was entrusted with the treasure simply because he was fluent in ancient languages, and he ended up chased to his death as a result. I must write it down before I forget. The manual he memorized to train talents of the resistance. If its content proves true, mastering it would bring forth the ultimate technique that even the Empires' Aura Masters and Grand Magicians wouldn't need to fear. It's possible. Absolutely. In his previous life, his age was far past the point of starting something anew, and he also lacked talent. But now, things were different. He was young, not yet of age. And yet, the weight of responsibility pressed heavily on his shoulders. Woom. The sound of distant thunder rumbled through the sky, mirroring the turmoil within him. He felt a surge of determination rise, as if the storm itself was urging him to step forward, to embrace his destiny despite his youth. The golden energy that rose in response to Logan's will flowed along his body. The force of life, Force. A power he couldn't even dream of at this stage in his previous life now amplified his expectations. Squeeze. Physical youth and experience with the Force. If these merged harmoniously, even with his deficient talent, he might be able to master this ancient manual. No, he would certainly master it. Ronian, this time, you won't have to struggle alone. Absolutely. An overwhelming expectation for a changed future made his heart beat faster. After organizing all the critical matters he must never forget, his goal became clear. What I need to focus on now is obvious. The upcoming Territory War in a year. He had to overcome this crisis first. I can do it. So, the first thing to do is to focus on what I can control. Logan began fervently brainstorming ideas as if the Territory War was about to start at any moment. He scribbled notes frantically, each idea sparking another, envisioning strategies and potential allies. With each stroke of his pen, he felt a renewed sense of purpose, determined to transform his desperation into a plan of action that could change everything. However * * * 10 hours later. Thunk. The conclusion reached after much deliberation and headache was clear. There's nothing I can do. Logan, having spent the night to the point of pallor, slumped over his desk, his face cupped in his hands. The weight of his decisions pressed down on him like a heavy shroud, and the flickering candlelight cast shadows that danced across the walls, mirroring the turmoil in his mind. He felt trapped in a web of his own making, and the path forward seemed obscured by uncertainty. To win the Territory War, what needed to be done was simple. Strengthening the territory's military power. And what was needed to achieve that was also clear. Strengthening the knights or soldiers, or enhancing and developing weapons. There were a few ideas he came up with immediately, but they all. Money, I need money. It was not just a mere problem like his current poor reputation. Even if his reputation had been good and he had been a solid heir, nothing would have changed. We were a famously penniless noble house. Damn it. He needed a way to earn money. And he needed a great deal of it, quickly, shortly. Such a convenient method had presented itself, but it couldn't be possible. The risks were too high, and the consequences could be devastating. Yet, desperation clawed at him, pushing him to consider options he would have previously dismissed. Was there truly a path to wealth that didn’t lead to ruin? Thump. Thump. No matter how much he banged his head against the desk, nothing came to mind. Just last night, he was happy to have hope. He felt like punching his yester-self. If only I had regressed like 5 years, no, even just 3 years earlier He was so desperate that he even had the audacious wish for a greater miracle to happen. But he couldn't continue to escape reality forever. It can't be helped. I have to prepare, even if I have to wring out what I have. Focusing on surviving the Territory War and preserving forces rather than winning seemed feasible. Yes, it cant be helped. First, Ill recover my previous abilities, then change my reputation. Personal issues can wait until that incident 3 months from now Hm? Wait a minute. A thought flickered through his mind. Oh? That's right, at that time. A way to potentially make a fortune came to his mind. In three months, he would either be on his way to success or facing the consequences of failure. To execute this newfound idea, he had things to do before that. He needed to gather resources, make connections, and plan every detail meticulously. Time was of the essence, and he couldn’t afford to waste a single moment if he wanted to turn his vision into reality. * * * You seek an audience with the Patriarch? Youre going intentionally? Yes. Why?! I need to get his permission for something. He had somewhat anticipated it, but seeing Rick's surprised expression made Logan remember even more clearly the relationship between his father and himself at this time. But now it was something unavoidable. Father Logan steadied his breath as he stepped out of the room and focused on his memories from his previous life. His father was caring when he was young, strict as he grew up, and, When he was wasted, his father was nothing but cold. From now on, you are not my child. His father had already given up hope on him even before those words came out. When Logan was found unconscious with a head injury from the recent official duel, his father didn't show up at all. An extravagant son and a cold father. The vicious cycle of emotions produced by their relationship lasted until the moment he was expelled. Of course, in his past life, he was too busy blaming his father for years after being thrown out. It wasn't until he realized his faults and heard of his father's demise that he regretted not asking for forgiveness sooner. Those years of regret spanned over two decades. Furthermore How troubled must the parents be who cast out their child? A question lingered in his heart, compounding the guilt as he hesitated to return and beg forgiveness from the family. Such a word from an old mercenary left a lasting impression. Meeting that father again, it was impossible not to feel nervous, and his hands trembled ever so slightly. From guilt? Or perhaps fear? Or anticipation? Even Logan himself could not precisely express his emotions at that moment. Taking a deep breath, Logan tried to smile with effort, And resolutely moved forward. But then. Oh my, excuse me, Your Highness. He had to keep smiling. Oh, please spare me, Your Highness! To keep smiling. I'm sorry, I made a mistake. Please, calm your anger! For a slightly different reason, his hands trembled again. Sigh. Damn it He felt even more tense because of the servant's hypersensitive reactions. But this was the result of his misdeeds. The rudeness and violence he committed at this time have built up to today's situation. His conscience pricked him, but he knew he could change this gradually over time. Hopefully, his smile wasn't too awkward. It mustn't be. As he calmly took a breath and continued walking, he eventually saw his father's office. Knock, knock. Father, it's Logan. Logan? Hmm, come in. Creak. As he opened the door and entered, a burly redhead, his father, examining documents at the desk by the window, looked up at him. Red hair, red eyes. The fierce eyes and firmly closed lips made the resemblance to Logan unmistakable in the stalwart figure. As Logan's gaze met with that of the stubborn-eyed middle-aged man, His heart felt as if it were storming. Father How much had he resented that face? How much regret had that person caused him? And how much had he missed him? The memories flooded back—moments of laughter intertwined with pain, shared dreams now tainted by betrayal. Each recollection felt like a double-edged sword, cutting deeper as he grappled with the conflicting emotions. He longed for closure, yet the weight of unresolved feelings hung heavily in the air, leaving him to wonder if he could ever truly move on. The fault was all mine. Really There were so many things he wanted to ask that were heavy in his heart. Whether he was loved as a son, even if worthless. It hurt his father too when casting him out. And had he missed him? All the things he'd never said and the complex emotions of his past life surged inside him. But he forcefully suppressed the welling in his chest. Unlike when he spilled his heart out to his younger brother as if it were all a dream, now was the time to show he had changed. Steadying his wavering gaze, Logan strode into the room. You seem fine. Well then, what brings you here? Contrasting the complex feelings of longing and regret inside Logan, his father's response was cold from the first word. He had expected as much. What mattered was what happened from this point forward. I wish to undergo secluded training in the ancestral lands. I've come to seek your permission. Logan responded firmly with a steady voice, having made up his mind. Before the incident three months from now, the first thing he needed to do was to return to his former level of skill. In an era where one's might could decide status and power, It was a basic condition he deemed necessary to reverse his current reputation and to have weight in his words during the upcoming events. Of course, the response he received was not encouraging. Secluded training? You? Yes. An expression of disbelief and astonished eyes. Hmm. Are you trying to escape because you lost to your brother? I've realized my efforts have been severely lacking. Although late, I intend to awaken my spirit. Just the efforts were lacking? You still don't seem to have awakened. Despite Logan's prepared, resolute speech, the tone and expression his father returned lacked any belief or warmth. I also realize my behavior has been problematic. I've heard that many times before. Until now, I've failed to recognize my faults and have projected my anger onto others. I was foolish and immature. I intend to come to terms with my immaturity during this time of training. Hmm. Whether the sincere words had reached him, his father's expression finally changed slightly. This time, it doesn't seem like your usual excuses. I won't let you down again. So you've been disappointing me so far. And you just talked of repentance while looking aggrieved. He could hardly say anything. Logan simply bowed his head without a word. How long do you plan to stay? About three months. Is that so? Do you think just that will be enough for you to catch up to Ronian? It's not about beating Ronian. I'll do my best, even if it's just for a short time. If it doesn't work out, I will humbly accept it. Surprised by the prompt answer, his father gazed at him for a while, then slowly nodded. Indeed, you seem a bit changed. Yes, it's good to change. I grant my permission. Thank you. After bowing politely, Logan turned to leave when a hesitant voice reached out. It is still Spring. The grave tomb is cold to sleep in. Make sure you take care to keep warm. Taken aback by the unexpected warm words, Logan just nodded his head. As he exited the room, his footsteps felt unconsciously lighter.