While Leven was caught up in a back-and-forth with the vassals of the Strauss family, Karnak and his companions remained at the Strauss manor as honored guests. The hospitality of the Strauss family was truly extravagant.

Servants, carefully selected from among the finest, attended to their every need. They were given splendid chambers, served rare wines and delicacies. It was truly a treatment worthy of kings and emperors.

And it wasn’t merely because they had saved the house. During the post-war cleanup, Karnak had deliberately exaggerated Leven Strauss’s role and made sure the world knew of it. He maintained that they had only assisted Leven in rescuing the Strauss family, rather than taking credit themselves.

Of course, those within the Strauss family knew the truth. But regardless, who the world believed had saved the family was a matter of grave importance. If Leven Strauss was recognized as the hero of the day, it would at least spare the family’s honor from ruin.

After all, it would mean the disaster caused by a member of the family had been resolved by another member of the same family. Karnak’s deeply noble consideration naturally left the Strauss family profoundly moved. Not only had they been saved, but their honor had been preserved as well.

There had been, of course, the minor mishap of Karnak chopping off Gellard’s head in the process, but that much fell within acceptable limits. If they had witnessed Karnak decapitating Gellard with their own eyes, no amount of understanding could have prevented them from losing their composure.

Even if they could understand it in their minds, their hearts would never have accepted it. Fortunately, very few had seen the moment Gellard lost his head. After all, everyone had been locked in fierce combat. It wasn’t as though they had time to leisurely sit back and spectate.

Besides, Karnak and Future Leven hadn’t fought within plain sight for the most part. While they had occasionally surfaced in midair, clashing back and forth between the walls of the fortress in spectacular bouts, the truly decisive part of the battle took place firmly grounded, mostly obscured by the fortress buildings.

What people saw was only flashes of light streaking through the air, earth shattering all around them, and waves of overwhelming energy. As always, hearing about an event and witnessing it firsthand were worlds apart.

Thanks to that, the Strauss family had no trouble accepting the story that "Karnak had led Gellard, who had been turned into a death knight, back to peace."

Smiling as he peeled fruit for a snack, Karnak chuckled. "Still, people’s hearts don’t always follow theory. I worried about it more than I’d like to admit, but things turned out well enough."

Varos let out a sigh of relief beside him. "Tell me about it. Just thinking how close we came to making an enemy of the Strauss family sends chills down my spine."

Across from them, Serati and Lapicel sat side by side, nibbling on honey pastries. Well, technically, only Lapicel was happily munching away.

Serati worn a slight frown. "Ugh, this is way too sweet. Lapicel, want to have mine too?"

"Yes!"

Passing over her share of the sweets, Serati turned to Karnak with a subtle telepathic message.

—By the way, those four governors. No, I guess they're called the four elders now? What happened to them?

—What do you think? Job’s done, so they went back to their business. No point sticking around hoping for scraps.

As soon as the battle had ended, the archliches made a swift escape.

—The Goddess of Twilight shall come! Praise Serakal!

With that shout, they bolted. Though the Twilight Order opposed the Cult of the Black God, from the perspective of the Seven Goddesses’ faith, they were still a heretical sect to be eradicated. A pursuit force was quickly assembled to chase after them.

—Well, they got away pretty easy.

To be honest, the pursuit hadn’t been particularly enthusiastic. These were archliches, undead of notorious evil, and they couldn’t be left alone. The church had to make an effort to go after them. But that didn’t mean anyone was exactly eager for the mission.

—Sounds like they made a show of it and called it a day.

Serati smirked.

—Talk about going through the motions.

Karnak joined in the grin.

—If anything, they didn’t even bother to pretend. They were just wide-eyed and going, Oh nooo!

From where she sat, nibbling her honey pastry, Lapicel’s eyes sparkled as she watched them. The two of them were exchanging silent glances again. See? There is something going on between them!

It was always the same with Karnak and Serati. From time to time, they would share these subtle, knowing looks. They silently stared at each other, as if they didn’t need words to convey their thoughts, as if they understood each other perfectly. They acted exactly like how a pair of lovers would!

Oh my, oh my, oh my. No matter how old her soul was, Lapicel was still a girl in the bloom of youth.

Naturally, she couldn’t help but be intensely curious. That said, there was one thing bothering her just a little. But then, I’ve seen Lord Karnak exchange those looks with Sir Varos too...

Confusion bloomed in her mind. Just what was Karnak’s taste?

Wait a minute! Suddenly, Lapicel’s eyes widened in alarm as she glanced at Serati. Does this mean Brother Varos is Sister Serati’s rival in love? Oh no, poor sister! 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

Serati was bewildered. Lapicel, who had been happily devouring pastries just a moment ago, was now staring at her with wide, anxious eyes.

What’s with this kid all of a sudden?

***

It was late at night, and Lapicel, still very much a child, had gone to bed early. The remaining adults, behaving in an appropriately adult-like manner, were enjoying some late-night drinks and snacks together.

Karnak’s mouth watered as he looked over the neatly arranged spread before them. "Well now, looks like the chef went all out."

Every dish looked delicious. But there was a slight concern as well.

Karnak wondered. "Hey, isn’t eating too much at night supposed to be bad for you?"

Varos shook his head, unconcerned. "Once in a while won’t hurt."

Then, as if it were odd, he asked, "What’s this? Since when have you cared this much about your health, young master? You weren’t usually like this."

"I realized something when I used the Angel of Radiant Wings," Karnak responded.

"Using necromancy made you want to exercise?" Varos asked him.

Karnak nodded. "Yup."

Varos pressed on. "What kind of nonsense is that?"

"I know it sounds ridiculous, but it’s the honest truth." Karnak then explained to his companions what he had experienced while unleashing the Angel of Radiant Wings.

They were all dumbfounded.

"The healthier your body, the stronger your necromancy becomes...?"

"Then shouldn’t all necromancers be bodybuilders?"

"But reality’s the opposite, isn’t it?"

Karnak shrugged. "It’s not all that complicated."

Usually, the healthier your body, the more alcohol you could handle.

"But the people who drink the most aren’t exactly paragons of health, are they?" Karnak explained.

Leven nodded his head in understanding. "Ah, so it’s that kind of concept."

Looking down at the wine glass in her hand, Serati grimaced. "That’s all fine and good, but do we really have to talk about this while we’re drinking?"

With a wry grin, Leven changed the subject. "By the way, Sir Varos."

"Yes?"

"How exactly do you intend to teach me the Delphiad swordsmanship?" Leven asked him.

"Strictly speaking, it’s not me who will teach you. It’s your future self passing it down to your present self," Varos responded.

Leven smirked. "I don’t exactly have the best relationship with my future self, you know."

"Well, I can see why it feels odd. Who’s to say your self from our era is the same as your self from Tesranach’s era?" After a brief pause to gather his thoughts, Varos spoke in a calm tone. "Anyway, this is what I heard."

***

The rulers of Delphiad, the Strauss family, had produced generation after generation of martial kings. They had produced no fewer than five over three hundred years.

"How was that even possible?" Varos asked rhetorically.

Leven replied hesitantly. "Surely it’s not just because our family’s swordsmanship is that far above all others, right?"

It was true that Delphiad swordsmanship was among the very finest in the world. But there were many other schools of martial arts that could rival it.

Just take the style of the Martial King Beltia, which Lapicel had learned in the future, or the Laspentine Imperial Swordsmanship of Dreltein. Both were on par with Delphiad swordsmanship, and it was hard to declare any of them superior.

"And yet, the only family that consistently produced martial kings was none other than the Strauss family," Varos explained.

So what exactly set Delphiad swordsmanship apart from the other martial kings’ schools? Varos smiled softly. "Have you ever heard of the technique of aura transmission?"

Leven frowned. "You mean the method of passing one’s aura to another?"

Anyone who had devoted their life to a pursuit and reached its pinnacle inevitably felt a desire when facing death. They would feel the desire to leave behind everything they had built in their lifetime.

That was why people passed on their wealth, their honor, and their power to their heirs. The same held true for aura users, mages, and priests alike. They too passed down their life’s worth of martial techniques, magical knowledge, or profound theology devoted to the goddesses, leaving proof of their existence behind in the world.

And among them, it was only natural that some wished to pass down the very energy of heaven and earth they had cultivated their entire lives.

When one died, their body rotted away. Yet the power they had once wielded—power mighty enough to shake the world—still lingered within. Was it not too great a waste to simply let it scatter into the void?

If only such power could be passed down to future generations, how much could it contribute to humanity? The idea itself was nothing new. In fact, it was so common that it bordered on cliché.

"But wasn’t it already proven to be impossible?" Leven asked.

"That’s right. It is impossible," Varos answered him.

The moment someone tried to absorb another’s energy, a clash inevitably occurred within the body. It turned the energy into poison. There had been attempts to somehow refine and convert the energy to make it one’s own, but it had been demonstrated that the effort required was far greater than simply cultivating one’s own aura or mana from scratch.

If such a method had been feasible, the other martial kings and their schools would have adopted it long ago.

"But Delphiad swordsmanship took a slightly different approach."

It was said that this method had first been devised by Zartas Strauss, the founder of the Strauss family and the first Martial King of Delphiad. He, too, had wrestled with the concept of aura transmission and recognized its theoretical impossibility. However, unlike others, Zartas had been more flexible in his thinking.

—Must I necessarily transfer my aura to my child?

There was a saying: it doesn’t matter how you get there, as long as you reach your destination.

—Whatever the process, as long as my child’s aura reaches the same height as mine, that’s enough.

Thinking along those lines revealed a breakthrough.

"He didn’t develop a method to pass down his aura to his heir," Varos explained. Instead, he developed a method by which he could cultivate his heir’s aura in their stead.

"Pardon?" Leven blinked in confusion. "You’re saying... he trained someone else’s aura for them?"

"Exactly." Varos nodded and continued his explanation. "It’s no easy feat, of course, but if the practitioner is at least at the level of a martial king, and if the relationship is as close as parent and child, it seems to be possible."

Naturally, the person cultivating the aura couldn’t use it themselves. Worse, the longer they cultivated it, the more toxic it became to their body.

"But if they pass it along to their heir as they accumulate it, the side effects are minimal."

And it was the aura of a martial king, painstakingly trained and transferred. Even with the same amount of time, it was obvious that far more aura would be accumulated than if the heir had trained alone.

"With this method, at least the issue of aura quantity could be resolved." They would always possess the maximum amount of aura their tier could sustain. "Of course, that alone wasn’t enough to ensure every heir of the Strauss family reached the level of a martial king."

Countless factors were needed to attain that height. Aura was only one of them.

"But having even one guaranteed advantage is no small thing, as I’m sure you can imagine," Varos said.