Chapter 22 - Chapter 22: Chapter 21: The Establishment of Esoteric Buddhism: Dawn (1/2)

Chapter 22: Chapter 21: The Establishment of Esoteric Buddhism: Dawn

Three years.

Time flew by, and the Fischer family had become the most respected family throughout Nasir Town.

Irene, healing diseases almost without pay, had aided many of the elderly, in whose eyes she was nothing less than a saint sent by the Lord of Salvation.

Lucius, the hero who had saved Nasir and led the guards to slaughter the despicable natives, was the man every boy in town looked up to.

For a full three years, Baron Hovern had not returned to Nasir Town. He had been gravely injured during the war against the jungle natives and was the only one to survive an encounter with the Mighty Bloody Demon. Accordingly, the baron, badly shocked, had been recuperating in Fein City and no longer visited.

At that moment, within the Fischer family’s courtyard, an intense swordsmanship duel was in progress.

“Ha!”

Byrne, tall and lean, launched a casual thrust with his sword, and the confronting Guards Captain quickly parried. The two men, swords in hand, engaged in a give-and-take combat within the courtyard.

Thanks to his extraordinary memory, Byrne’s skill in swordsmanship was advancing rapidly, to the point where even the most experienced ordinary guard could not best him.

The fierce swordsmanship struggle continued.

Byrne suddenly spun around, drawing a dark-golden flintlock from his bosom and pointing it at the Guards Captain.

The Guards Captain stood motionless, frozen in place.

“Bang, the times have changed, you’ve lost.” He mimicked the sound of gunfire with his mouth.

Then both men could not help but burst into laughter.

“Hahaha, well fought, Captain. Let’s call it a day,” Byrne said with a mild smile, his face remarkably pale, his eyes clear and rational.

He was clad in a layered, light-colored Haute couture garment that exuded a grand design, truly the dashing image of a noble gentleman.

If Irene was the one many men longed for in their hearts, then the grown-up Byrne was the man most girls in Nasir Town dreamt of by their pillows.

In three years’ time, Byrne had grown increasingly confident, no longer the boy who would shake behind his father at the sight of strangers.

“Eh?”

He suddenly looked down at his slightly aching palm and frowned, saying:

“My hand’s a bit chafed. The craftsmanship of this sword isn’t very good, is it one of Uncle Ramon’s last few pieces before he retired?”

Byrne sighed, understanding that some things were inevitable; aging was a mighty force humans struggled to contend with.

Old Ramon, the blacksmith, had retired after he abruptly started producing some poorly made ironworks.

The truth was not that the old man was slacking off but rather that seventy-year-old Old Ramon was becoming senile.

The old man had just last week mistaken Dr. Irene, who had come to visit, for his granddaughter and, while talking, had suddenly burst into tears, leaving Irene quite embarrassed.

There was no helping it. His family and friends had to persuade him to stop working. Although Old Ramon was reluctant, he retired to maintain the blacksmith shop’s reputation and handed over the business to his son Hugh.

Injuries during training were common, and Byrne simply shook his head, no real concern in his thoughts.

He had to find Robert Taylor, the man who had studied abroad in the Empire and had become Byrne’s best friend.

“Trouble you to put away the sword for me, please.”

As Byrne put down his sword and walked away, the old servant responsible for gathering the weapons had already approached. He saw the bloodstains on the hilt and paused.

A rumor had long persisted among the people: if one obtained the blood of an Extraordinary Exponent, there was a chance to be an Extraordinary Exponent themselves.

In truth, the claim about acquiring blood was baseless “superstition,” yet many still believed in it.

“The blood of young master Byrne…”

What if the rumor was true?

The old servant silently looked around, nobody was passing by, and he couldn’t help but lower his head and lick the bloodstain on the hilt with his tongue.

He didn’t know whether the rumor was true, but it was something many had said, and even if the rumor was false, there was nothing to lose.

Within the transparent bottle, Karl’s consciousness stirred.

He suddenly felt an unusual connection—not with the four members of the Fischer bloodline, but with someone else.

Who could it be?

Karl slowly elevated his will, and soon locked onto the individual forming the connection—a thatcher family’s old servant.

He tried to convey his intentions but found no way to communicate directly.

The connection between them was too faint.

The next moment, the old servant knelt trembling with fear on the ground, shivering as an immense fear welled up from the depths of his heart.

Oh?

He had sensed his presence!

This was an interesting development.

Karl quickly realized that although he couldn’t communicate and also wasn’t able to bestow abilities or inhabit a body,