Cherreads

Chapter 39 - Chapter 39

FANSiA Originals and KakaoPage

I Became the Genius Bastard of a Noble Dark Clan

[Author/Original: Yuin]

[TL: Dekor]

[PR: Spades]

Episode 39

—————————

Was it a satisfying answer?

Tern lowered his head, lips pressed tight.

"…And one more promise."

"What now?"

"Be careful at the main house."

"Worried about me?"

"…J-just be careful! If you keep acting cocky and get yourself killed, Father and Mother will be heartbroken!"

Chris chuckled.

"Don't worry."

He stood.

"I'm stronger than you think."

His gains from seclusion.

As a mage, 2-star high.

Unbelievable, but not all.

A greater achievement.

In the Light Faction's Starlight realm, he'd reached 4-star.

---

Clatter, clatter.

In the moving carriage, Chris sat with eyes closed.

Heading to the main house.

'A warp gate would've been easier.'

The Kazar estate and the Dark Mana Clan's main house were linked by a gate.

But it required main house approval, which hadn't come.

Security reasons, they claimed, unless absolutely necessary.

Obvious bias.

'Typical noble disdain for branches.'

Chris didn't care much.

The Light Faction had similar noble houses.

All glory and privilege went to the main line.

Branches were mere lackeys.

Lucky to be lackeys—many were treated like slaves or dogs.

Noble houses ran on strict bloodline privilege; nothing new.

[Young master… fighting! Look at me… cheer up!]

Sensing his mood dip, perhaps?

His banshee maid, Marie, flitted around the carriage, acting cute.

Like a 'cheer up~' gesture, but a banshee's charm was just eerie.

Chris gave her a gloomy look.

'…Leaving the estate, and I'm still stuck with her.'

Bound by their master-servant oath, he couldn't shake her.

No other entourage.

The main house limited him to one companion.

So, Chris rode alone with Marie.

[My comfort… seems to really lift you, young master. But staring so warmly… my heart… it's pounding too much.]

"…That's not it. And you don't have a heart."

[I have a heart for you, young master. Ohoho…]

"…"

Ignoring her, Chris looked out the window.

A massive manor came into view below the hill.

Like a kingdom's castle in scale.

The Barron Duchy.

He'd arrived at the Dark Mana Clan's main house.

---

"Young master, stay safe."

The Kazar coachman gave a solemn farewell.

"Please, please. No injuries. No crippling. Absolutely don't die!"

Chris looked baffled.

The coachman's fervor had a reason.

The Dark Mana Clan's Black Sanctification was notoriously perilous.

Injuries were common.

Some ended crippled or dead.

"Alright, head back."

"Yes, understood. Stay safe!!"

"…Go already."

After the coachman left, Chris crossed his arms.

He felt eyes on him from all directions.

Not friendly.

Not quite hostile either.

Hostility required an equal foe.

Just contempt, like eyeing trash.

[Kazar's trashy disgrace.]

[Heard he changed?]

[Trash stays trash. Him attending the Black Sanctification?]

[He'll leave humiliated.]

[Hope he gets crippled. No more tarnishing the Barron name.]

Chris shrugged.

Expected looks.

He'd shown change at Kazar and Tyramine, but those were outside events.

Main house mages hadn't seen it, so bias lingered.

Even if they had, they'd resist acknowledging him.

Dismissing branches was routine for main house folk.

Then, a voice came from behind.

"Greetings, young master."

"!!"

Chris frowned.

A pale, sculpted handsome man.

Chief Steward Simon!

'At least I sensed him this time.'

His 4-star realm had sharpened his senses.

Simon noticed, a glint in his eyes.

"You've changed?"

"A bit?"

"More than a bit. Heh, unbelievable. Barely half a month, and you've stepped forward. Impressive as ever."

Chris just shrugged.

Others were shocked to see Simon.

[The Chief Steward, out from the patriarch's annex?]

[For that disgrace?]

[Why him?]

From their reactions, Simon rarely appeared, serving only Patriarch Nordian.

"Seems you're busy. Why're you here?"

Not just to chat, surely.

Indeed, Simon dropped a bombshell.

"Someone wishes to see you."

"??"

"Patriarch Nordian."

Everyone around gaped.

Simon smiled playfully.

"The patriarch requests your presence."

"!!!"

Patriarch Nordian's summons!

The area buzzed.

Shocking news.

Nordian, reclusive, rarely involved himself in clan affairs.

Him wanting to see anyone was rare, let alone this disgrace?

'Unexpected.'

Chris was slightly thrown.

He hadn't anticipated meeting the patriarch right upon arrival.

But he steadied himself.

'Just meet him.'

A key player in the era of ruin, Chris had faced figures greater than Nordian.

No reason to quiver.

"Not surprised?"

"Sufficiently shocked."

"Don't look it."

"Meeting our esteemed patriarch, why tremble? It's an honor to rejoice."

Simon burst into laughter at the eloquence.

"As expected, Young Master Christian. Yes, no need for fear. I hope you show the same flair before the patriarch."

Simon added meaningfully.

"He'd be disappointed if his anticipated grandson showed poorly."

---

Chris followed Simon.

Past the grand main hall, a forest appeared.

It looked modest outside, but inside, it stretched endlessly.

'A formation.'

Chris noted inwardly.

A trap to wander and perish if lost.

He memorized the forest's layout and formation patterns, trailing Simon.

After a long walk, a small annex appeared.

Patriarch Nordian's residence.

'First time with Nordian.'

Despite meeting countless notables, Chris had never met him.

Nordian died before the era of ruin began.

Not just him—the 'Clearstream Demon King' and other top southern Magic Empire figures perished early.

Due to a coming bloodbath.

The southern empire drowned in gore before the era's full onset.

Anyway, a matter for later.

"Enter."

Simon opened the creaking door, and Christian stepped in.

The moment he did.

"!!"

Chris inhaled sharply.

His vision darkened.

Not magic.

An overwhelming presence numbed his senses.

There, ahead.

An old man stood, leaning on a cane.

Nothing else registered.

Chris's gaze fixed solely on him.

The patriarch.

"Been a while."

A warm voice, like a grandfather calling a grandson. A smile.

But Chris couldn't relax.

The soul-crushing presence choked him.

Like sinking into deep sea.

Unable to twitch a finger, his knees nearly buckled.

But he snapped alert.

'A test!'

Nordian knew Chris couldn't handle it yet exposed his full presence.

To test him.

Specifically, his willpower.

'This pressure can be endured with mental strength.'

If Nordian had unleashed dark mana, no willpower could resist. An 8-star mage's mana alone was lethal.

But he hadn't moved a speck of mana.

Just unveiled a fraction of his vast presence.

Most would've knelt, but not Chris.

He'd faced greater pressures in his past life.

Compared to then… this was bearable.

Taking deep breaths, his mind steadied.

"I greet the great lord of the Dark Mana Clan, Duke Barron."

At his calm voice, Nordian's eyes widened slightly.

But only briefly.

He smiled warmly again.

"Yes, good to see you. First time since you were little—years, I'd say."

"…"

"Surprised your old granddad called you?"

Chris paused.

"Not surprised. I figured you'd want to see me."

"Why?"

"A new star has risen in the clan."

"…What?"

Nordian blinked.

Nearby, Merian gaped, glaring at Chris.

Christian had just called himself a star.

In front of the patriarch!

'Well, it's true, isn't it?'

Nordian likely summoned him for his Tyramine feats.

Checking a promising talent, so Chris wasn't wrong.

"Hah. You make me laugh. A star, yes. I called to see what you're like. Merian and Simon sang your praises, so I wondered if you match the hype. I always yearn for exceptional blood to emerge."

Nordian spoke softly.

"But."

The air shifted.

His smile remained.

But a blade-like tension cut through.

As if the air itself heeded Nordian's will.

"I'm not sure yet."

"!!"

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