Chapter 3

Chapter 3
Chapter 3

“Observing the depth of your irritation makes me grasp the extent of my own past errors. I shall etch your counsel into my soul and ensure it is never forgotten, Father.”

“…Is that the end of it?”

“Indeed. Therefore, you are free to be content now.”

“What did you say?”

The Grand Duke knit his brows, caught off guard by Lucian’s abrupt declaration.

Be content? Out of nowhere?

“I have been told that a parent’s fury and discipline regarding a child’s lack of wisdom are born from affection. Until this moment, I harbored a grudge because you never once directed your rage toward me, but I see now that I was in the wrong.”

“…!”

“Thus, shouldn’t you be pleased? I am your offspring, back from the very edge of the grave. Now that you have let your anger out, there is no need to restrain yourself—you could even grasp my hand. We are kin; it would be perfectly natural if you even moved to tears.”

The Grand Duke fixated on Lucian with a look of pure astonishment at such bold remarks.

Even the Chief Steward Edwin, who had been observing in the shadows, found himself gaping in surprise.

While Lucian’s phrasing was formal and masked, the underlying sting was impossible to miss.

He was questioning if a lecture was the only thing a father could provide to a son who had just cheated death after a lifetime of being ignored.

Implicitly, he was suggesting that if a reprimand was his only tool, he was failing in his paternal role.

*Please, let this gamble pay off.*

Lucian kept his expression neutral as he forced down his nerves.

He had just dared to mock the sovereign of the household and a Grand Duke to his face.

With any other member of the nobility, such an insult would likely result in being dragged off to a secluded monastery in a fit of rage.

However, if this man was the Sigmund Valdek Lucian remembered, his response would be different.

He was a leader who famously preferred a snapping hound over a cowering rodent.

“Heh… haha.”

After a stretch of silence lasting twenty seconds that felt like an eternity, the sound that escaped Grand Duke Sigmund was not a shout, but a dry, amused rasp.

He appeared stunned, yet more than that, he seemed captivated by this bizarre shift in dynamic.

*It worked!*

A wave of relief flooded Lucian’s mind as he realized his risk had yielded a result.

The Grand Duke studied Lucian’s features for a moment before whispering, “I was unaware you possessed the nerve to address me in such a manner.”

“Humans are destined to evolve. Furthermore, if a man remains stagnant even after stepping back from the gates of the abyss, he can hardly claim to be human at all.”

“Does this imply you plan to stop wasting away within your four walls?”

“I’ve remained shut inside for over a year; the monotony has become unbearable. It is time to conclude that chapter. More critically, for the time being…”

Lucian paused, pulling back his garment to expose his arm.

The limb was skeletal and frail, looking no different from someone suffering from a wasting disease.

“I intend to focus on regaining my strength first. In this condition, I lack the power to even lift a blade.”

“A blade? You?”

“I cannot say if I will ever truly need to wield one, but what can a man who fails to maintain his own frame hope to accomplish? At the very least, a man must be capable of his own defense.”

“Ahem.”

Grand Duke Sigmund cleared his throat, shifting his weight back.

His lids lowered slightly, and his features contorted.

To an outsider, it seemed like a grimace of annoyance, but Lucian recognized the tell.

That was the specific look the Duke wore when he was struggling to suppress a grin.

“You certainly possess a gifted tongue.”

“I am merely giving voice to my convictions.”

“Whether this is genuine resolve or empty posturing will be proven by time. You are dismissed.”

“Yes, Father.”

Lucian offered a low, respectful bow and departed from the study.

Once he had gained a bit of distance, the breath he had been holding escaped in a long, heavy sigh.

That went as well as could be expected.

He had successfully dismantled his reputation as a pathetic, discarded child.

By presenting a new version of himself today, the Grand Duke would almost certainly pause any plans to cast him out of the family.

Still, that was only a temporary fix.

If he failed to produce actual results in the coming days, he would eventually be written off as nothing more than a silver-tongued fraud.

Before that could happen, he needed to provide the Grand Duke with undeniable proof of his worth.

Fortunately, that shouldn’t be an impossible task.

He had endured as a soldier of fortune in a brutal era of constant slaughter.

Achieving success as a sheltered young noble would be a simple matter by comparison.

Lucian walked toward his quarters, a small smirk forming as he plotted his grand entrance into this second chance at life.

—

“Well, how about that.”

Grand Duke Sigmund ran a hand through his beard in quiet contemplation.

Even having witnessed it, he found the encounter hard to credit.

To think that the once-dim boy could exhibit such audacity.

“Did you observe that, Edwin?”

“Observe what, Your Grace?”

“The way he maintained eye contact throughout the entire conversation.”

“I did. He did not flinch once.”

Only a year prior, the boy’s eyes would have been shifting frantically.

He had been unable to even meet his father’s gaze, and his constant whining had been utterly exhausting.

If Sigmund so much as raised his volume, the boy would cower like a beaten cur instead of standing his ground.

He had been a child devoid of backbone, full of silent resentment, and incapable of asserting himself.

To think that very same boy would now gamble his life to state his goals so boldly.

“I previously assumed the only trait he took from his mother was his physical appearance.”

“Is the Third Young Master not your flesh and blood as well, Your Grace? Such a lineage does not simply vanish.”

“Do not be so quick to judge. It is possible he was simply putting on an act.”

“In the past, he lacked even the courage for an act. It is undeniable that he has undergone a fundamental shift.”

A grin that he couldn’t quite suppress tugged at the Grand Duke’s lips.

He might be an overlooked son, but he still carried the Valdek name.

As a parent, it was impossible not to feel a stir of pride at a child’s sudden maturity.

Especially since he was the child of the woman Sigmund had once held most dear.

“Regardless, it is too soon for absolute confidence. There is still a chance it is all talk.”

“Do you wish to put him to the test?”

“It is a minor trial, but reinstate his full allowance. Grant him the same amount he received before he went into isolation.”

Since falling out of the Grand Duke’s good graces, financial backing for Lucian had been almost non-existent.

Aside from his basic meals and the wages for his staff, he had possessed no personal funds.

The Grand Duke was now commanding that this stream of wealth be reopened.

On the surface, it looked like a gift, but to Edwin, it was a subtle challenge.

He was essentially handing a large sum of money to a boy who was just re-entering society to see if he could manage it with maturity.

If Lucian lost his head and squandered it on frivolous luxuries, any lingering hope for his future would be extinguished.

“I shall see to it. However, there is a minor complication.”

“A complication?”

“A portion of the funds allocated for the Third Young Master is being funneled elsewhere.”

Grand Duke Sigmund’s brow twitched.

This was not a directive he had issued.

This meant someone was brazenly stealing from the family coffers.

“Who has the nerve?”

“It appears the Second Young Master is behind the diversion.”

“What? The second one?”

“The sum is insignificant to him; he is likely merely attempting to stifle the Third Young Master’s resources.”

“Stifle? It’s petty spite. Honestly, that boy and his endless insecurities.”

The Grand Duke clicked his tongue, annoyed by his second son’s behavior.

While his competence was adequate, his small-minded nature had always been a liability.

Sigmund was aware of the friction between the second and third sons due to their maternal families, but he hadn’t realized the second son was being this obsessive.

“Should I intervene?”

“No, leave it.”

Grand Duke Sigmund dismissed the idea with a shake of his head.

“The third son must learn to navigate a hurdle like this on his own. If he is defeated by such a small obstacle, then his character is truly shallow.”

“Will that not be a struggle? He possesses no political backing, let alone a single person truly loyal to him.”

“That is a situation of his own making, so he has no one to blame but himself. It is the cost of his year-long withdrawal.”

Had he maintained his social standing and personal affairs, such low-level sabotage would never have succeeded.

Since his current predicament was the direct result of his own negligence, he had to be the one to fix it.

“This is actually a perfect opportunity. Let us observe how the third son chooses to settle this.”

If he failed and came back begging for help, Sigmund would wash his hands of him for good.

But if he handled the matter with precision, surpassing expectations…

*Then there is no reason he couldn’t be brought back into the race for succession.*

His mind made up, Grand Duke Sigmund turned his attention back to the mountain of paperwork on his desk.

He had far too many responsibilities to spend all day fretting over his third son’s drama.

—

Following his intense confrontation, Lucian was forced to stay in bed for twenty-four hours.

The sheer exhaustion of moving his body for the first time in ages, coupled with the mental tax of standing up to the Grand Duke’s aura, had left him drained.

*This physique is embarrassingly frail.*

What could he possibly achieve with such pathetic reserves of energy?

He had already planned on it, but the need to fix his physical health had become a desperate priority.

Luckily, the means to begin his transformation arrived the very next morning.

“Y-Young Master… what occurred yesterday? Did you perform some kind of ritual?”

“What are you babbling about? If I had access to sorcery, would I be stuck in bed aching like this?”

“I’m asking because His Grace has restored the funding he stopped a year ago, and he did it overnight.”

Lucian was confused by the servant’s panic, but it became clear that the Grand Duke had reinstated his monthly stipend.

He scoffed, thinking it was only natural for a son of the house to receive his due, but he took the ledgers to inspect the figures.

The smug look vanished from his face as soon as he saw the total.

“This is for the Third Young Master—for me?”

“Yes.”

“Is this an entire year’s sum provided in advance?”

“Certainly not. That is merely the allocation for one month.”

“Was I always receiving this much?”

“Much? The other masters in the house likely receive far greater amounts.”

“This is madness!”

He was genuinely stunned into silence.

He knew the Valdek family was prosperous, considering the Grand Duke served as the Emperor’s chief advisor.

But to provide this much wealth as a simple allowance for a third son, separate from any official duties?

This was a fortune sufficient to employ a mid-sized band of mercenaries for two weeks with plenty of gold to spare.

*There’s no downside to being rich, but it does make me feel a bit silly for my past struggles.*

So this was the reality of the high aristocracy.

While Lucian felt a brief pang of cynicism, he was also thrilled by the massive capital now at his disposal.

*Wait, with these funds, I can do more than just build muscle—I can completely rewrite my physical potential, can’t I?*

His eyes snapped wide with realization.

Normally, it was considered impossible to alter one’s fundamental physical makeup.

That was why people believed true masters were simply born with their gifts.

That was the prevailing wisdom of the era, and physical constitution was seen as an unchangeable absolute for any warrior.

However, that dogma was destined to be shattered six years from now.

Because the Alchemist Guild was going to create Nectar.

Nectar, the legendary draught of the gods.

Due to the pretension of the name, it was initially mocked and criticized as an act of hubris.

However, once the results were documented, the mockery turned into worship.

The power of Nectar lived up to its grandiose title.

It was an elixir capable of taking even the most mediocre, talentless individual and gifting them with legitimate potential.

If a substance like that wasn’t called Nectar, what else could it be?

Upon its release, the struggling Alchemist Guild was propelled to the very heart of the Empire’s power structure.

Even the Emperor himself had to be careful with the guild, as they used the Nectar distribution list as a political weapon.

It was a period of absolute dominance.

Though it was a brief era that only lasted three years.

Eventually, the Alchemist Guild suffered for its arrogance when the great chaos began.

In a world dictated by raw power, the guild was razed, its masters were executed, and the secrets of the Nectar process were largely destroyed.

All that survived were scattered, broken notes with vital steps missing.

Most experts threw these incomplete Nectar formulas away as useless garbage.

In alchemy, a slight error in a mixture doesn’t just lower quality—it creates a lethal toxin.

Attempting to brew medicine from a broken recipe was seen as a death wish.

But there are always those desperate enough to try. Many died, but a rare few managed to synthesize a version of Nectar, however flawed it might be.

In his previous life, Lucian had been one of those lucky few.

“Hans, prepare for us to leave.”

“You’ve barely recovered your strength, where could you possibly be going?”

“To a shop that deals in herbs.”

“Excuse me? A herb shop?!”

Hans stared at Lucian as if he had grown a second head.

Why on earth would a high-born young master have any business in a common herbalist’s shop?