Jet-black hair, fine and flowing with the wind.

Deep, clear blue eyes.

A gracefully falling jawline.

Though still youthful, there wasn’t a single flaw to be found in the appearance.

Even the seasoned members of the imperial palace, who had seen countless beauties, were momentarily speechless.

The look evoked the long-lost glory of Daymond Astra.

Someone among those staring blankly at the boy gasped sharply.

“The Western Reserve Wonhwa!”

A mercenary who had competed with Erilot and Selene for the reserve Wonhwa spot.

‘There’s no way to mistake him!’

He was a formidable figure surpassing even the might of Kali Muso, the fugitive former general.

Those who had seen the Western Reserve Wonhwa held their breath.

“That boy, indeed.”

“Incredible. Yes, really incredible...”

“But what exactly did that boy kick?!”

A strange object appeared opposite Kork.

It looked somewhat human at a glance, but its gender and age were impossible to tell.

It was buried in old, black cloth with only eyes barely visible.

Kork stared tensely at the boy.

But something was strange. The closer the boy got to the object wrapped in black cloth...

“Kiiiiiik!”

Its face twisted like a monster’s, as if trying to protect itself.

When there were just two or three steps left between the boy and the black clothed figure,

The figure shouted,

“Ashaktura Shakala...!”

It sounded like a spell.

It wasn’t Imperial language. Nor the continent’s common tongue, nor any foreign language.

Even more strangely...

“The voice!”

“Yes, that voice is Kork’s!”

“Are you sure? Isn’t Central Army’s number one on the opposite side?!”

At that moment, Kork dashed toward the black-haired boy. Moving on all fours, he looked like a four-legged beast.

The black-haired boy lightly dodged Kork and then—

Clutch!

He grabbed the black cloth figure.

Judging by its struggling posture, it seemed he grabbed its throat.

“Mon, monstrous strength? Is his blessing monstrous strength? Wait, the cloth is coming off... Hot?!”

The black cloth fell to the ground, revealing the figure.

A small, scrawny man covered with pockmarks.

It was Kork...!

“Impossible. Two Korks?!”

“No way... Ah, no...”

Viscount Noklang shouted,

“That was Kork’s real blessing! A !”

A blessing that literally creates a duplicate of oneself.

The black-haired boy calmly watched the struggling Kork in his palm.

“There was no blessing that injects poison from a distance to begin with.”

“Eek...!”

“Sending the clone out front, the real body approached Western Army’s number one under the ‘cloak of invisibility.’ Poison was used from behind.”

“L-leave! Le-lease me─!!”

Kork’s brother Mark’s face stiffened.

It was the truth.

Only one of Kork’s training successes in the ‘laboratory’ was the stealth approach technique.

“Completely hide your presence and approach. If you scare the enemy, you win.”

“Y-yeah, brother...”

Kork screamed and struggled.

“How, how did you... You said you’d never be found out, brother, you said...”

“I had a brutal instructor in my mercenary group who could read stealth techniques.”

“Let go, brother! T-tongue─!”

Mark clenched his teeth and dashed out. Or rather, tried to dash out.

If not for being caught by Central Army—

Entering the arena would mean immediate disqualification.

Kork’s clone lost will to attack, as the real body was terrified and magic could not be properly relayed.

“Let go! I said let go!”

Having lived constantly on the edge of death, I knew.

‘T-this guy isn’t my match.’

He couldn’t press his vital points properly and escape.

He couldn’t even pull out the poison hidden in his chest.

All he could do was scratch the other’s hand with his nails while struggling.

“L-let go. I admit defeat... Hup!”

He tried to declare surrender but no sound came out. Something was tightly pressing his throat.

‘M-monster strength wasn’t all of his blessing?’

The black-haired boy calmly watched Kork struggling like a trapped mouse.

“There are three conditions for disqualification.”

“Ugh...”

“Leaving the arena, surrender declaration... and when you are unable to continue the match.”

“...!”

“A broken neck would also count as inability to continue.”

Kork turned pale, and Mark’s face also stiffened.

The crowd took a deep breath.

“You reap what you sow.”

Indeed. It was just like when Iseze was cornered.

Though Iseze never declared defeat, while the other side desperately wished for it.

Kork groaned.

“Ugh, ugh... tongue... tongue─...”

Mark shouted at Silin, the Central Wonhwa.

“Declare surrender!”

“......”

“Do you intend to kill Kork?!”

“......”

Silin’s face turned pale.

Surrender declaration?

Me?

Silin Chateaubriand, the first Central Wonhwa to be asked to declare surrender during a public battle training?

It would be recorded by the historians.

His name would go down as the first Central Wonhwa to ever surrender, which was absurd.

‘Hah, but...’

All eyes were on him.

Erilot Astra cleverly dodged declaring surrender with her sharp tongue. Claiming that her soldiers did not want it.

But Kork desperately wanted to surrender.

‘If he doesn’t declare...’

The frustration burned in my chest.

Why?

Why treat me like this?

Why not just have the soldier surrender directly!

Silin glared coldly at Erilot, standing quietly on the opposite side.

‘That brat made me do this. To disgrace me...!’

“Central Wonhwa─!!”

As Kork’s face flushed red, Mark’s voice rose.

Central knights monitoring under the order of Duke Chateaubriand shook their heads.

There was no choice but to tell him to surrender.

“You’ve delayed too long. The crowd is restless, Wonhwa.”

“......”

“If you don’t hurry, your reputation as a Wonhwa...”

Silin clenched his lips and muttered,

“Sur-...”

Then,

The black-haired boy threw Kork out of the arena and said,

“He’s not such a vicious person.”

The referee raised the flag.

Disqualified by stepping out!

A blue flag signaling this.

Central Army’s number four, Duke Chateaubriand, and Silin’s faces turned pale.

‘Now it looks like Silin didn’t surrender out of pride.’

Sure enough, Viscount Noklang smacked his lips and looked very disappointed.

“You must know when to retreat for the soldiers’ sake.”

“Father, please...”

“Talking to myself.”

The crowd murmured.

The black-haired boy glanced at Erilot. His face was composed, but his jaw twitched.

That was exactly the expression Erilot made when she wanted to stifle a giggle.

Erilot glanced around then subtly gave a thumbs-up.

The second match was a great victory for the Western Army.

At the moment Silin trembled, Mark said,

“When does the next match start?”

“...What?”

“I’ll kill Alexis with my own hands.”

Mark’s eyes gleamed with rage.

After the second match, we had a twenty-minute break.

While checking on the Central Army and considering our soldiers’ strategy,

A palace attendant hurried over.

“Wonhwa, someone requests a moment of your time.”

...He’s come.

I smiled gently and followed the attendant.

I didn’t need to hear who it was to know.

Who else would call me during the match?

The attendant led me to a secluded place and left.

Then the caller appeared.

I bowed to him.

“You called, Duke Isiron?”

His expression was stiffened, full of worry.

‘Because the black-haired boy who perfectly won the second match was Alexis—!’

He must be desperate to confirm if he really was his grandson.

“What method is there to confirm if he is my grandson?”

“You will know during the match.”

“How long do you intend to keep me dancing on your palm─!”

He was as skilled at hiding his feelings as Duke Jermo, but this time he fully exposed his true face.

“It won’t take that long.”

“And if that child can’t prove he is Annamaria’s son in this match?”

“I will offer you my neck.”

“......”

I smiled softly.

“But if he does prove it, please grant my request, Duke.”

“...Request?”

I stood on tiptoe and whispered in his ear.

Duke Isiron’s eyes widened.

“You...”

“Will you grant it?”

“......”

He stared at me intently and said through gritted teeth,

“If that child really is Annamaria’s son...”

A plan nurtured for over seven years was finally taking shape.

I smiled deeply.

Probably a smile very much like my grandfather’s.

And soon after, the bell rang.

The signal to resume the match.

The match began.

Mark glared fiercely at Alexis.

‘Even tearing him apart wouldn’t be enough...’

Kork was a finished product.

What the ‘laboratory’ couldn’t accomplish, I had.

In the laboratory, children below rank 4 are discarded. Kork was garbage awaiting disposal.

I was the one who turned that trash into a famed assassin.

Kork was my first creation.

After the last match, Kork was utterly terrified, as if facing imminent disposal.

‘That can’t be used anymore.’

His blessing was exposed, as was his use of stealth approach.

‘At least he’s still alive, so he might be used as a test subject.’

Once the method is revealed, it can no longer be used.

Mark muttered fiercely at Alexis.

“That was my first work.”

“Your brother.”

“Do you know how much time and money it took to polish trash like that?”

Alexis, rubbing his neck, laughed lowly.

“What do I care, trash.”

“You bastard─!”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Each step Mark took crushed the arena he had barely restored.

Mark.

He was on a different level from Kork.

A top talent in the laboratory, where countless experiments were done.

Even the fierce guards never dared oppose twelve-year-old Mark.

“If rank was judged by strength alone, I should be at the top of the pyramid!”

Mark threw a punch at Alexis.

Krrrak─!!

With a terrible sound, a corner of the arena collapsed.

Had Alexis not dodged swiftly, he would have shattered like the floor.

But only for a moment.

Another person appeared where Alexis dodged.

If he dodged toward ten o’clock, there was ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) another.

If toward three o’clock, another...

A spectator gasped.

“Th-they’re all Mark. They’re using too...!”

“Brothers can manifest the same blessing.”

“But the numbers differ. Kork barely made even one clone, yet there are already twelve Marks in the arena...”

The monstrous strength and number of clones.

An abominable power.

The Western Army exploded in fury.

“They ban monsters but allow clones! That’s unfair—!”

“They’re a single consciousness.”

“Damn it. How do you fight something like that...”

Alexis appeared completely on the defensive.

Mark smirked.

“Ah, don’t be scared yet. I’ll pamper you enough before breaking your neck.”

“......”

Clones kept increasing wherever Alexis dodged.

Mark didn’t sweat a drop.

Duke Jermo asked Daymond, who sat in front.

“How many more can he make?”

“At least twice as many, I think.”

“What?! Huh...”

Daymond eyed Mark sharply.

‘After making eighteen clones, the magical waves became rough.’

Judging by the waves, the number of clones could double.

“Blessing level two... no, it could easily be level three.”

Meanwhile, I couldn’t estimate my daughter’s soldiers.

A thorn in the side guarding Erilot.

I had noticed them during training at the Astra estate, but they never showed their limits.

‘They’re good at hiding.’

The nobles were already making bets.

“He can’t lose. If the clones share the full power of the original, it’s a certain loss. I bet on Mark.”

“Me too, Mark.”

“Damn, me too... Can we even bet?”

Alexis seemed to do nothing but dodge.

Duke Isiron frowned.

‘What exactly is he trying to prove in this match?’

The dukes laughed and made their bets.

Duke Jermo said,

“Shall we wager something too? Duke Chateaubriand, what say you?”

“Maybe I’ll bet the western granary of my estate. Ha ha ha!”

Then—

“What, what?!”

A magical wave so strong even the weak felt it whipped through.

And then appeared—

“Chains... the chains of physical control!”

The same ability seen in the Western Reserve Wonhwa match.

The same blessing as Milan Astra’s.

Alexis tightly bound one of Mark’s clones with chains.

Then said in an indifferent voice,

“Let’s see if clones can escape the chains of control.”

What?

Mark’s face twisted sharply.

Then the clone bound by chains attacked the real Mark.

“...!”

“Impossible, they say it’s a single consciousness.”

“You bastard...!!”

One of the furious clones of Mark charged.

But—

Clack!

It struck a barrier.

“A b-barrier? You can use barriers?”

It was the exact form as Iseze’s barrier.

And on the other side—

“Huh, huh?! The ground...!”

A spectator shouted. Like Kazyn, the arena itself was being reshaped.

Duke Isiron jumped to his feet.

‘The might of a ruler!’

The strongest blessing in history, bestowed by the first Emperor.

Duke Isiron murmured,

“It’s real...”

It was.

Nothing could prove it more perfectly.