There was only a month left until the end of my six months of theoretical training. In the five months that had already passed, I had learned solely by reading books and listening to the steward—learning about mana, how to wield it, how to cast spells, how to hold and swing a sword, and how my family had come into being.
The Verblade family had, in truth, been founded with a sense of honor. The first Verblade, Kassiandre Van Verblade, was a mighty swordmaster renowned for his noble companions. In the beginning, he and his three comrades were part of the same adventurer party. Among them were Sigmund Ster Estrella, the founder of the legendary mage bloodline of the Ster Estrella family; Freud Cobre, who established the feared clan of poisoners and assassins; and Ambian Archa, progenitor of the inescapable archery lineage.
Each of them was unrivaled in their own domain. But one day, during an expedition into a dungeon, Kassiandre lost his mind. He turned on his three companions, striking them down and leaving them grievously wounded.
In that era, a portion of the continent was ruled by the Ulsar Empire. Kassiandre declared war against it and founded his own dominion in the east of the continent of Itah.
The war that began with that foundation never ceased. Its sole cause was the Verblade clan's insatiable hunger for power.
Though nearly a thousand years had passed since that day, the war had never ended—and never produced a victor. What I could never understand was that the Ulsar Empire never retaliated unless it was attacked first. It was as if they only wished to protect their own lands.
Stationed at the heart of the continent, the Ulsar Empire had neither gained nor lost a single span of territory in a millennium. They had simply grown stronger within their unchanged borders. So strong, in fact, that though they were formally ranked as the fourth most powerful family, they could, if they committed all their strength, obliterate the third and second families—the Cobre and the Ster Estrella. Yet in the records, they remained listed as the fourth.
This was solely because of their martial prodigy, Kuon Van Ulsar.
Kuan was the hidden weapon of the Ulsar bloodline. With a single punch, he could fell several monsters at once, and he could pierce mountains. But what made him truly monstrous was his body itself.
A sword wreathed in aura could scarcely scratch his skin. Arrows would not pierce him, poison was absorbed, and even spells would rebound against their caster.
The only techniques that could affect Kuan were the secret arts of the Verblade House. These techniques were so potent that, by all accounts, the head of our family could likely split the continent in two.
I was beginning to understand why he hadn't done so. He didn't merely want dominance—he wanted absolute control over a single continent.
On the battlefield, my father had a name: Massacre. They truly called him that. He descended onto the field like a god, and every battle he joined ended in victory.
Yet most of the military campaigns were handled by my eldest brother, Cadeon. He was so formidable that even the family head seemed unwilling to quarrel with him.
In truth, our power was more than enough to impose absolute rule. What I couldn't comprehend was why they never fought with all they had.
When I asked the steward, he told me:
"From the moment of the founding, there has been a pact. If the head of any family personally joins a war, they must surrender to their enemy an expanse of land equal to the blood spilled in that battle. For this reason, my lord rarely sets foot on the field, and though he always emerges victorious when he does, he is compelled to return the territory soaked in blood."
Cadeon had not yet ascended to the headship of the family. That was why he was free to lead campaigns.
I had tried to persuade the steward to tell me more about the Verblades, but he only bowed and said, "I'm sorry, young master. My lord instructed me to tell you no more than this."
Lord Cauron did not wish me to learn anything further, and he had succeeded.
Until the end of the six-month training, I was unable to discover a single new piece of knowledge about the Verblades. I even tried to speak with Lord Cauron about the family's past, but he always refused.
Lord Cauron was warm to me in every other respect—but whenever I asked questions about the Verblades, he looked at me as though, were I not his son, he would kill me where I stood.
In the end, he commanded the steward to escort me to my room and instructed that I was to begin sword training within a week.