Sigh…
I sighed quietly as I finished cultivating.
The room was still and dim, lit only by a soft glow spilling from the lone candle on the wall. I sat cross-legged on the bed, the faint hum of residual mana clinging to the air like a ghost of effort. My body had cooled from the session, but my mind hadn't stopped spinning.
How can I boost my cultivation pace further?
I had plenty of methods—more than anyone else in this house.
Because unlike them, I had lived through this all before.
I had died once, and now, I remembered everything.
But…
I exhaled through my nose, a quiet scoff escaping me.
I couldn't go down the orthodox path. Not with this talent.
Even the average mercenary on the streets had better potential than I did.
Two years...
Yes. It had been exactly two years since my mana core was awakened.
And just like in my previous life, it had taken me those same two years to finally approach the 1st Severance.
A week.
That's all I needed—one more week of effort, and I would reach it.
Most people reached 1st Severance immediately after opening their core. Their foundation solid, their futures promising.
For me? It had been a humiliating crawl. Two years of scraping by, unseen and unimpressive.
Unprecedented.
But for all the wrong reasons.
"Charlotte," I called out.
A soft click answered my voice as the door opened.
"Yes?" she asked politely.
"Hmm. Is it time yet?" I said, eyes still fixed ahead. It should've been close to dinner.
"No, we still have thirty minutes," she replied, tilting her head. "Why are you asking something so obvious?"
"I see…" I hummed, nodding. "Plenty of time to get ready."
I rose from the bed, stretching my arms behind my back. Then I walked toward the dressing table near the window.
It was luxurious.
Carved from spring tree wood, only found in south—a material known not just for its value, but its unique properties.
"Spring tree, huh…" I murmured, fingers tracing its edge.
A symbol of wealth today.
A tool for something entirely different in the future.
My gaze drifted to the window, then narrowed.
I needed control.
Over this estate.
Over the flow of money.
Over every pawn in this house.
The thought of money triggered a memory.
"Has my allowance been given yet?" I asked, still not turning around.
Charlotte's voice sharpened. "What are you talking about? You got it three days ago. You already spent it all on an elixir."
"Ah… right," I said, only half-listening.
"You really need to start saving," she scolded, folding her arms. "Even if the Kael House is rich, it doesn't mean you can waste—"
I tuned her out halfway.
"Is everyone coming to the dining hall?" I asked, steering the conversation elsewhere.
"Hmm? Yeah. Everyone should be there. The head of the house summoned the whole family. Said he's going to announce something."
"…Good."
If everyone was gathering, it would be the perfect opportunity to observe.
To test which method would work best on them.
Once I was dressed, I stood in front of the mirror.
A familiar face stared back at me—long black hair, sharp black eyes, and a crescent-shaped nose.
It was strange how calm it made me feel.
There was a softness in the reflection, something untouched by all the violence and hardships of my past life.
I liked this face.
Not because of its features.
But because it reminded me of my mother.
And that—more than anything—grounded me.
"All right. You stay here," I said, turning back to Charlotte. "I'll be back soon."
"Why? I should go with you," she protested, eyes narrowing slightly.
"No. From now on, don't leave this area unless I say so. Got it?"
She hesitated, lips parting slightly. Then she looked away, cheeks flushed with irritation.
"…O-okay."
Maybe she was angry.
Maybe she didn't understand why I suddenly sounded so different.
I didn't explain.
There was no need.
"I'll be back soon," I said again, opening the door.
And then, I left—my thoughts already racing ahead to what would come next.
****
As I walked through the corridor, I was immersed in thought.
Several servants along the way greeted me, but I ignored them.
He should still be within our territory, right?
I questioned myself, thinking of a certain genius—one who could even rival the generational prodigy of House Draken
The very same who had killed me.
Cyan Draken…
A faint chuckle escaped my lips at the thought of him.
He shouldn't have been born yet. If I remember correctly, he was born when I was around forty. His grandfather, the current head—had thrown a grand celebration.
At the time, I was working as a mercenary, stationed within their borders.
As that memory faded, I found myself standing at the entrance of the dining hall.
Everyone was already present—everyone except Vitra.
The eldest was here, alongside his mother.
And so was the youngest—the so-called greatest talent of the house—seated beside his mother.
He had reached First Severance right after forming his mana core… despite being two years younger than me.
"Greetings, Second Brother."
The youngest one, Ronan Kael, greeted me politely.
"Hmm."
I nodded at him and took my seat—deliberately choosing a spot away from them. The dining table was grand, easily able to seat at least twenty-two people at once.
The eldest son, four years older than me, glanced in my direction, clearly waiting for a greeting. But I didn't return his gaze.
What was his name again…? I frowned slightly.
I couldn't recall it. All I remembered was that he was a pervert who constantly stalked Charlotte.
Now that I think about it, they all share that signature Kael look—narrow eyes, a sharp straight nose. Unlike me. And honestly, I'm quite grateful for that.
"Vern, you should greet your elder brother when you meet him," came a firm voice.
It was Dave's mother—Lady Sofia Kael—the first wife of the head of House Kael.
But I didn't look at her either. I knew why she spoke—it wasn't about manners. It was about politics. They were trying to secure support for him to become the next head of the house. After all, in their eyes, I stood no chance of inheriting the title.
"Vern, do not ignore someone who is trying to teach you something," she said, frowning as she began to lecture me. "Etiquette is one of the primary teachings every noble child should receive."
She didn't stop there.
"Although your mother didn't teach you anything, you could at least pay attention when someone with manners is speaking."
She kept blabbering—this and that, on and on—but I tuned her out. Her words meant nothing.
So what if she insulted my mother?
That didn't make my mother any less respectable in my eyes. Her worth wasn't decided by the mouth of a bitter old woman.
And besides… I can always sew those lips shut later.
Hehe…
I chuckled softly, enjoying the sight of that woman twisting her face in frustration, forced to keep her mouth shut. It suited her—silence always did.
My gaze drifted back to Ronan.
The youngest one might prove useful in the future…
His eyes still carried innocence, but beneath that, I could see a flicker of curiosity—maybe even ambition.
But the eldest?
Tch. Useless.
As they chatted and I remained silent, the large main doors creaked open.
The commander of the knights entered, followed by a middle-aged man.
It's been a while since I've seen him…
In my last life, he had died when I was thirty-six. But now, here he was—looking like a man who could live another fifty years. Though in his forties, he had already reached the Fifth Severance and was a well-polished swordsman.
His features were unmistakable—white hair, a straight nose, narrow eyes, just like his sons. But his youth hadn't passed quietly. The sharpness of his jawline and the definition of his cheekbones gave him a presence that could still silence a room.
Now that I think about it… my uncle—the commander, William Kael—was also at the Fifth Severance. Hmph, not bad for someone who always bowed his head to power.
I was still watching William when the head of the house, Vitra Kael, stepped into the room. He moved with the usual authority, and as expected, everyone stood in respect.
Everyone… except me.
I remained seated.
The third and first wives shot me sharp glares, but I didn't budge. Their eyes were filled with scorn, but beneath that—I knew the truth.
They were pleased.
Pleased that I hadn't stood.
Pleased that I had distanced myself even further from succession.
After all, to them, I was no longer competition.
Just like in my past life, they believed they could quietly discard me—cast me aside once one of their own secured the throne.
Let them think that… for now.
I shouldn't attract any unnecessary attention before I take over this house. Drawing eyes now would only make things… annoying.
"Sit down."
At Vitra's command, everyone returned to their seats in silence.
As he settled at the head of the table, the maids entered with new trays—steam rising from polished silver platters. Dozens of dishes were laid out: roasted meats, seasoned vegetables, soups, and gravies. I ignored most of them.
Quietly, I reached for a small portion of rice and beans and began eating—without waiting for anyone.
The room fell into an awkward pause. Several eyes turned to me.
No one said anything.
Good.
The more I behaved with poor etiquette, the more they assumed I was just an uncultured disgrace. The more attention slipped away from me.
Perfect.
"Ahem."
Vitra cleared his throat—loudly and with a touch of theatrics—trying to redirect the room's focus.
He was used to it by now. Used to my indifference.
To my disregard for family customs.
Even for him.
"First, start eating," Vitra commanded, picking up a fork and knife as he cut into a piece of seasoned meat.
Everyone followed his lead immediately, heads lowered, posture proper. The room filled with the soft clinking of cutlery and the faint rustle of clothing as sleeves shifted and chairs creaked.
I kept eating at my own pace—slow, steady, disinterested.
After a while, the plates were cleared, and the maids moved quietly through the room, removing dishes with practiced grace. The table returned to silence, the air now tense and expectant.
Vitra leaned back slightly, his gaze sweeping across the table.
"So," he began, voice deep and measured, "I've summoned all of you here to announce something important."
His eyes landed on Ronan—soft, almost… proud.
"Now that the youngest has reached First Severance," he said with a smile, "it is time."
Ronan responded with a bright smile, clearly pleased by the compliment. The warmth between them was obvious.
I didn't react.
Maybe I would have—if I still had the mind of a 12-year-old like in my last life.
But now…
It feels empty.
Vitra's voice cut through the silence.
"I will choose a successor to lead House Kael after me."
The words dropped like a hammer.
Silence followed.
Heavy and suffocating.
Even the sound of breathing became noticeable.
Everyone around the table froze—eyes sharpened, minds racing.
—