I looked ahead, my gaze distant, a new cold fire simmering in my eyes. Now, let's go and meet the main character. I wonder what he'll be up to now. My thoughts drifted to Ryu Shen, a name that now tasted like ash on my tongue.
Stepping out of the relative solitude of my room, I immediately felt it—the oppressive weight of mocking gazes, the sharp prickle of barely concealed jealousy. They were all servants of the Ryu Family manor, their faces a familiar tapestry of sneers and whispers. Just because I possess 'mediocre talent,' and yet, I am the rightful Young Master of the Ryu Family.
They weren't like this before. Their disdain, their subtle disrespect, it had all festered and grown after Ryu Shen came. He was just an illegitimate son of my father, his mother dying shortly after giving birth to him. He had been found and brought into the Ryu clan only two years ago, when we were both eight.
At that time, I truly believed we would be brothers. A bitter pang resonated in my chest, quickly swallowed by a hardening resolve. How foolish I was. But now... now I will take everything away from him.
The truth, a secret I had meticulously guarded, now burned for release. I was not weak. My talent was not mediocre. I had deliberately suppressed my cultivation, hidden my true potential, all to make things easier for him. To ensure he wouldn't face unfair treatment as an illegitimate heir, to allow him to grow up without the constant pressure and envy that plagued the true scions. It was a misguided act of kindness, a noble lie for a brother who never truly existed.
But now, there is no need to hide anything. The realization brought a surge of exhilarating power. The time for pretense was over. I will now reveal my powers.
With this thought, my steps grew firm, my presence suddenly commanding a shift in the air. I strode forward, moving not towards the inner sanctums, but directly towards the main gates of the vast, sprawling castle that was my inherited home.
I strode purposefully towards the main gates of my assigned castle, my eyes fixed on the servant standing guard. It was a familiar face, one of the many who had grown accustomed to treating me with thinly veiled contempt.
"Hey, you," I called out, my voice cutting through the morning air, sharper than usual. "Prepare a carriage. I will visit the main castle of the Ryu Clan." I used the term 'main castle' deliberately, emphasizing the distance and formality, a subtle test.
The servant, a burly man named Gyeong, merely glanced at me, a flicker of dismissive amusement in his eyes. "Okay, Young Lord," he drawled, his tone laced with a condescending patience. "I will prepare it in a moment." He then began to move, but with a deliberate slowness, his steps a clear sign of his disregard.
I watched him, a cold fury coiling in my gut. He wasn't taking me seriously. Not a single one of them ever did. "Hey! Can't you understand what I am telling you?!" My voice hardened, a dangerous edge creeping into it.
Gyeong stopped, turning back with a sigh, a smirk playing on his lips. "Yes, Young Lord, I am going." He probably thought I wouldn't be the Young Lord for much longer, that my 'low talent' would soon see me stripped of my title. He continued to take my words as carelessly as he had for years.
Fool.
In a blur of motion, faster than any of them could comprehend, I leaped. My body, no longer bound by suppressed cultivation, moved with a terrifying grace. I gathered a concentrated burst of Aura in my palm – the vibrant green of my newfound System's power – and struck Gyeong directly across the face. The impact was sickeningly loud, a crack that echoed through the quiet courtyard. He didn't just fall; he was launched, a ragdoll propelled ten meters through the air, crashing into a stone pillar with a sickening thud.
Before he could even register the pain, I was there. I landed beside his crumpled form, my foot pressing down on his chest, pinning him. My hands, still crackling with suppressed Aura, became blurs of motion. I began to hit him, again and again, a relentless, brutal assault to his face. Each strike was precise, aimed to deform, to break, to erase the smugness that had been etched there for years. The sound of bone meeting flesh, wet and gruesome, filled the air.
The commotion drew others. Servants, startled by the noise, rushed from various corners of the castle, their faces aghast. They tried to intervene, shouting, their own meager auras flaring, but they couldn't reach me. My Aura, now unleashed, formed an invisible barrier, pushing them back, a visible shockwave of power emanating from my rage.
Just as the red mist began to cloud my vision, a hand, surprisingly firm and swift, clamped down on my wrist. I froze, my eyes snapping to the source of the interruption. It was Old Master Lee. My surprise was profound; I hadn't expected him to be able to move with such speed, let alone possess any martial prowess.
Then I saw it. A faint, yet unmistakable, red glow around his hand, a deep, potent Aura. My eyes widened. Red level Aura? So Old Master Lee was not an ordinary servant after all. The realization sent a shiver down my spine – not of fear, but of intrigue. This world held more secrets than even the novel had revealed.
Old Master Lee, his usually gentle eyes now filled with a mix of shock and sorrow, looked at the mangled form beneath my foot. "Young Lord," he said, his voice quiet but firm, "he is already dead. You can stop now."
I glanced down at Gyeong. His face was a pulpy, unrecognizable mess, blood splattered across the stone, his body utterly broken. A wave of cold satisfaction, sharp and clean, washed over me. "Tch. So weak," I scoffed, the words escaping my lips before I could stop them.
Old Master Lee flinched, his eyes widening further. In his mind, I was still the forgiving, simple young master he had watched grow up. He clearly hadn't expected this cold ruthlessness, this casual dismissal of a life I had just brutally taken. The shock on his face was almost comical.
I straightened up, my movements fluid, a stark contrast to my previous collapse. My bloodied hands reached up, calmly smoothing back my disheveled hair, leaving streaks of crimson across my temple.
"Prepare a carriage for me, Old Master Lee," I commanded, my voice now steady, imbued with an undeniable authority. "I want to meet Father."
Old Master Lee seemed utterly surprised after hearing my words. His eyes, already wide with shock from Gyeong's brutal demise, now held a new layer of bewilderment. I understood why. My father had ordered me to stay at this old castle, a secluded and somewhat dilapidated part of the Ryu Clan's domain. It wasn't a punishment for my 'mediocre talent,' as everyone believed. It was because I was deliberately hiding my true abilities. My father, the Clan Head, was no fool; he knew I was not ordinary. This exile to the 'old estate' was his way of trying to force my hand, a subtle punishment, thinking I would eventually abandon my choice to conceal my power.
In my last life, I never changed my choice. A bitter memory, a futile sacrifice. But it is not going to be the same now. A cold resolve solidified within me, harder than any steel. I will return to the main family, and I will make hell for everyone who dares to go against me and my revenge.
Old Master Lee, still processing the scene, began to speak, "But, Young Lord—"
I cut him off, my gaze sharp and unwavering. "No 'buts,' Old Master Lee. Let's go." I saw the questions swirling in his eyes, the unspoken concerns about my father's reaction, perhaps even fear for my own safety. "I know what you are thinking," I said, a hint of a chilling smile playing on my lips. "But don't worry. I will surely tell my father who I am now."
With that, I turned, my steps firm and decisive. Old Master Lee, after a moment's hesitation, followed close behind. Together, we moved towards the waiting carriage, leaving behind the bloodied courtyard of my forgotten castle, heading for the heart of the Ryu Clan's power, where my true vengeance would begin.