When I listened to the stories from various people, the minor details differed slightly, but there were common points.
First, he took down the troll with a single arrow.
Second, a whirlwind surged around him as an immense amount of mana erupted.
Third, when the arrow was shot, the space beyond its path appeared distorted.
‘That’s definitely the skill the Elf King uses to snipe enemies hiding behind rocks.’
It was a skill that utilized the power of the wind spirit.
At first, I couldn’t believe it even after hearing it, but the resemblance was strange—so much so that I had to see it for myself.
And as it turned out, he truly had the fervent attention of the spirits.
‘To wield such power without even a formal contract… That’s extraordinary.’
With talent like that, I couldn’t possibly discourage him. In fact, I wanted to encourage him to delve deeper into it.
“Given your current state, you’ll have plenty of time. Try initiating a conversation.”
“Huh? Is that even possible?”
“Once your spirit energy reaches a certain level, it will be.”
Until then, it’ll just sound like ordinary bird chirps to you.
But once you can communicate, forming a spirit contract will also become possible.
‘When that happens, a class change will occur.’
A class change—shifting from one’s current profession to a higher-tier one.
Since his base class is a knight, would he become a Spirit Knight? Or, given his talent with the bow, a Spirit Archer?
Players can choose their class change, but for NPCs, it’s determined by their existing profession and innate talents.
‘Whatever it ends up being, it won’t matter.’
Each path has its own clear advantages and drawbacks.
No matter what, Ian will guide him toward the path that suits him best.
‘Another person to look after, huh.’
Since he belonged to the knight order, I didn’t have to worry much about him before. But now, I’d have to personally teach and guide him.
‘If there were someone knowledgeable about spirits here, I could leave it to them…’
But there are no Spirit Masters in this territory.
In the end, it fell on me to take charge of his training.
Still, having played as a Spirit Master before, I could at least teach him the basics.
‘Never thought I’d end up playing mentor like this.’
It was admittedly a bit bothersome, but I decided to endure it for the sake of the future. With that resolve, Ian rose from his seat.
“Well, it seems your questions have been answered. I’ll take my leave now.”
“Ah, yes! I apologize for not being able to escort you out.”
“If you’re that sorry, focus on recovering quickly so you can be of use to me later.”
“Yes, Young Master!”
Ian waved his hand as he left.
Dwayne watched him go and muttered under his breath,
“The Young Master is truly remarkable.”
From explaining the undead’s weaknesses to teaching him about spirits—it was astounding how he knew even the most obscure details.
Chirp!
The bird—no, the wind spirit—flew back to Dwayne and perched on his chest as if claiming its rightful spot.
A faint smile crossed his face.
Ian’s return was somewhat delayed.
It had already been over a month since the undead incident was resolved.
Ian only managed to return to Rosen two days prior.
The reason? Dismantling the troll’s corpse was far more time-consuming than expected.
Its hide was incredibly thick, and the butchers struggled immensely with the task.
Trolls are among the most high-grade monsters for materials, and even their blood is a rare and valuable resource.
The process required extreme care, which inevitably prolonged the work.
It was a shame the head had been destroyed, but thankfully, the rest of the body remained intact for harvesting.
‘They were ecstatic when I handed them the blood. They’ll probably brew potions like crazy now.’
Some of the troll’s blood was sold to bolster the territory’s finances, while the rest was entrusted to Sera.
I told her to brew as many potions as she wanted—the kind only wealthy magic towers could afford.
Her joy at receiving it was unforgettable.
Even now, I can still picture her delighted expression.
I could almost see her torn between researching that horrifying black magic poison and diving into potion-making.
“Did something good happen, Young Master?”
Dwayne’s voice came from beside me.
He had recovered swiftly and was back on his feet. In fact, he had recently formed a contract with a spirit.
A bird—no, the wind spirit, Sylph—was now perched atop Dwayne’s head, fast asleep.
Even I could see it now, meaning he had formed the contract much sooner than I’d expected.
Name: Dwayne (Lv. 24)
Race: Human
Rank: Semi-Noble
Class: Spirit Archer
Title: Beloved by the Wind
Loyalty: 87
Ambition: 10
Strength: 61
Agility: 37
Magic Power: 40
Leadership: 5
Reviewing Dwayne’s stats, I whistled inwardly.
His former class, ‘Knight,’ had changed to ‘Spirit Archer’ after his contract with the spirit. It seemed his innate talents had influenced the class change more than his knightly profession.
“Dwayne, you’ve really come far.”
“It’s all thanks to you, Young Master.”
Dwayne had been rewarded and promoted for his feat of slaying the troll during the subjugation. Today, his position shifted from a regular junior knight to Ian’s personal guard.
The reason given was that his newfound spirit powers made him the ideal protector.
He was already close to Ian and had now proven his strength.
‘Now it’s my duty to protect the Young Master, not Sir Oswald.’
Dwayne felt both honoured and burdened.
From now on, during monster hunts or territorial battles, he would be the one standing by Ian’s side.
He recalled how Oswell had aged rapidly from always charging ahead with Ian.
Oswell’s encouraging words—“Do your best, and endure the hardships.”—still lingered in his mind.
“What’s got you so deep in thought?”
Ian’s voice snapped Dwayne back to reality, and he shook his head.
“It’s nothing.”
“You weren’t cursing me out in your head, were you?”
Dwayne nearly jumped out of his skin.
“How could I ever dare to think such a thing of you, Young Master?”
His reaction was more amusing than expected, making it fun to tease him.
I’ve always felt this way—he’s the kind of person who’d keep things from getting dull.
“Weren’t you envious or jealous of your seniors?”
“Not at all. In fact, they all encouraged me to do well.”
Though “encouragement” was a generous way to put it—most of them had looked at him with pity.
The knights who had accompanied Ian on the battlefield were well aware of the kind of madness they were signing up for.
“Well, that’s good to hear. Either way, your promotion comes with its own set of hardships.”
During peacetime, he’d train and live like any other knight, but there were clear differences.
Whenever Ian went out or was dispatched on a mission, Dwayne would have to follow—meaning he’d often be excluded from other activities.
That was a privilege in itself, but if Ian were to charge into battle again, it’d become pure hell.
If Ian dove headfirst into the flames, Dwayne would have to follow.
“Especially on the battlefield, it’ll be even tougher. I’ll be counting on you.”
Though Ian said it half-jokingly, Dwayne could only force a bitter smile.
“…I’ll do my best to keep up with you, Young Master.”
He couldn’t bring himself to deny it.
“Ah, right. His Lordship said to summon you once he finishes his report.”
“Oh?”
What does he want now?
Ian headed to where Hugo was waiting.
“Ian. Prepare to move.”
“Huh?”
The abrupt order left Ian momentarily stunned.
Blinking in confusion, he tried to read his father’s intentions.
‘If he’s decided to stay in the lord’s castle, then it’s not like the entire family is moving…’
That left only one possibility.
“Father, are you planning to pass the title to Hubert?”
That was it.
As long as Hugo remained lord, staying in the castle was fine—but if the title were transferred, the other siblings would have to leave and fend for themselves.
That was the fate of those who didn’t inherit, not just in Schrantz but everywhere.
And Ian would be no exception.
“Father, you’re still in good health. Isn’t this too soon?”
“What in the world are you talking about?”
Hugo’s face twisted in bewilderment—an expression Ian had never seen directed at him before.
Thankfully, that wasn’t the case.
“Then what is it?”
If not that, Ian couldn’t think of any other reason for moving.
“We need someone to guard the old Schrantz estate and another to expand our influence under Dariel’s leadership. The only person I trust and can send immediately is you.”
‘Ah, of course.’
Ian immediately understood his father’s reasoning.
It was simple and straightforward.
The old Schrantz estate wasn’t just symbolic—it was also a place of hidden legacy.
Leaving it unattended wasn’t an option, especially since the territory had only recently been reclaimed. There were still villages within Schrantz’s domain where their influence hadn’t fully taken root.
‘He wants to use me to solidify control over the land.’
It was something that would resolve itself with time, but Hugo clearly wanted it handled quickly.
And as a member of House Schrantz, Ian was the obvious choice.
“By the way, Father, I heard you were considering relocating the legacy here. How did that go?”
Since they had decided to settle in Rosen permanently, moving the legacy had been part of the plan.
At his question, Hugo smiled wryly.
“We concluded it’s impossible.”
Only those of Schrantz blood could even enter the secret training grounds, and the place was filled with intricate mechanisms.
Even if outsiders were somehow granted access, another problem remained.
Dismantling and relocating the legacy’s devices would be a massive undertaking—and one wrong move could mean losing it forever.
Hugo had no intention of taking that gamble.
“I’m entrusting the management of that place to you. You’ll be living there from now on.”
“If that’s your order, I’ll obey. But…”
Ian’s expression was sceptical.
“If someone as inexperienced as me is suddenly put in charge, won’t it end in chaos?”
Naturally, Ian had no expertise in administration.
“Do you really think I’d send you off blindly and leave you to figure it out alone?”
Hugo smirked.
“Rest easy. I’ve already dispatched stewards to the estate.”
‘Then there shouldn’t be any issues.’
Still, it was touching that his father was taking care of things for him.
He had always known he’d eventually leave the lord’s castle and become independent—but now that the time had come, he felt a faint pang of reluctance.
‘I guess I’ve grown attached to this place.’
But that was all it was.
He had lived on his own since university, so leaving home again didn’t stir up any deep emotions.
“Your reaction is rather flat.”
Hugo had expected him to be at least a little sentimental about leaving the home he’d grown fond of.
Instead, Ian’s calm demeanor was almost puzzling.
“It’s not like I’m leaving for somewhere far away. I can visit anytime, and you and Hubert will come by often too, right?”
“I suppose so.”
“Then when should I start preparing for the move?”
“The sooner, the better.”
“I’ll begin preparations tomorrow.”
Ian wasted no time getting ready.
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