Chapter 6

Vincent grabbed Sirone’s shoulder as soon as the door closed behind Temuran. “Sirone!” he shouted. “Why did you agree to this? It’ll be incredibly dangerous! No. This is all because I’ve been ignorant as a father! It’s my fault. Let’s just reject the offer.”

“It’s all right, Dad,” Sirone said. “Nothing will happen as long as I don’t leak anything.”

“It’s not that simple. There are no secrets when it comes to a job. It’s madness, no matter how you look at it! I’ll take the responsibility and refuse!”

But Sirone shook his head, feeling grateful for having such caring parents. “Father...”

Vincent was surprised to be addressed with such respect by his son for the first time. But what was even more surprising were the tears streaming down the boy’s face. “S-Sirone...”

“Thank you,” he said, letting his arms open wide and laughing heartily as he continued to speak to Vincent. “You’ve given me the greatest gift in the world.”

The hunter burst into tears, his pride forgotten, and wondered if he had ever seen his son’s face so filled with joy in all his years. “Don’t worry, son! No matter what happens, I will protect you! Forget your worries and work hard! I’ll make sure you’re safe at any cost!”

“I’ll work hard, Dad.”

“All right, my son! My treasure...”

As father and son shared a heartfelt embrace, Olina couldn’t hold back her tears of joy as a mother.

One week later, the stewards from House Ojent came to pick up Sirone. The job would take over two years, but all he had with him was a simple backpack.

As a condition for taking the boy, Temuran agreed to pay him twenty gold per month. His family’s monthly expenses had been only four gold per month with all three of them, so it was an immense sum for a hunter. Sirone wondered if their home would be even more luxurious by the time he returned. Knowing his parents’ disposition, he deliberately pushed away any regrets while envisioning a brighter future. The stewards swiftly processed the contract, and amidst the rush, Vincent had not managed to bid his son farewell properly before he had to board the carriage.

And so, it begins... Sirone felt calm, contrary to the worries that he hadn’t shown to his parents. He needed a clear head for reasonable judgment rather than emotions from now on. Entering the Spirit Zone, Sirone sensed his anxious parents through his heightened senses. Don’t worry. His genuine thoughts reached Vincent and Olina, who suddenly felt a warmth in their hearts.

“Sirone...” It wasn’t magic, just their son’s heart being conveyed.

“Move out!” someone shouted.

As the carriage jolted, it momentarily bounced off the Spirit Zone, but Sirone’s clenched eyes didn’t open. Stay strong. Entering House Ojent was both a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and a double-edged sword of the worst kind. He wondered if he’d be able to survive two years between the shoulders of such powerful individuals.

Focus. Entrusting his body to an unknown future, Sirone once again plunged into the Spirit Zone.

***

House Ojent was a famous military family and had produced a general who was a certified level-three swordsman.

“The master, Sir Bishop, holds the title of a nationally certified level-four knight. He currently commands the military in the city of Creyas. In other words, he’s the driving force behind the city’s military prowess,” a butler explained.

Not long after listening intently, Sirone arrived at the main gate of House Ojent’s residence

“Wow...” he murmured. A grand road stretched ahead, gleaming like a flash of light as it headed toward the heart of a massive mansion. So this is the Ojent Path, House Ojent’s masterpiece. This sprawling, obstacle-free road was the very essence of the family’s temperament.

“Intimidated, are you?” the younger butler chuckled. “Don’t be startled already. The Ojents are even scarier.”

“Watch your words. Do you want to lose your head?” the senior butler admonished.

However, even he could empathize to some extent, so he refrained from saying anything further and headed toward the main gate.

“Come this way.”

The Ojent Path was not a place for the butlers. Sirone slipped onto the garden path, running parallel to the main road. The place where the butlers stayed was a four-story circular building, and inside its study was the under-butler.

“You’ve arrived,” Temuran greeted. “I’ll explain your job, so follow me.”

“Yes. I’ll do my best,” Sirone replied.

Without any additional small talk, Temuran gathered a stack of thick documents and led the way to the library. The moment the old iron door creaked open, the awe-inspiring scene Sirone had dreamt of unfolded. A world of books lay before him. Gazing up at the second, third, and fourth floors, he saw shelves packed with books.

Sirone breathed in, taking in the unmistakable scent of paper. He clenched his fist tightly as he deemed this library itself to be worth staking his life on.

“The books here will be moved to the official library. Your job is to organize them. You’ll receive a list every week, and it’ll be your responsibility to locate and gather those books. Work hours are from one o’clock in the morning to six o’clock in the evening. Hours outside of those are your free time. You’re not allowed to leave the premises, and you must not enter the mansion without specific instructions to do so. The rules for butlers will be explained to you by a senior butler. Understood?”

“Yes,” Sirone confirmed, taking in the under-butler’s details. “When do I start?”

“Tomorrow. Unpack and rest today. Use this time to familiarize yourself with the rules for butlers.”

The next day, Sirone reported to the library. As he delved into the task, he quickly understood why he was the sole person assigned to it. The documents Temuran provided listed hundreds of titles, and determining their proper classification was often subjective. For instance, deciding whether a book titled History of Swordsmanship should be filed under History or Swordsmanship was a matter of interpretation. Luckily, Mr. Temuran has already provided a broad framework. As long as I stick to that criteria, I should be on the right track.

Sirone established his own system of priorities. Recognizing that history covered a wide range of topics while swordsmanship was more specialized, he categorized the History of Swordsmanship under the latter. It took him a full two weeks to solidify his sorting system. However, this task proved to be enlightening. Through the process, he unearthed facts he hadn’t previously known. It became evident that all knowledge was interconnected. With time, the work became more manageable, and soon enough, he was meeting the assigned quantities within the allotted time.

I should start reading books soon. He knew that the knowledge here would one day become a powerful weapon, so he aimed to make the most of his time. Let’s see. There are ten thousand books right in front of me. Even with nearly two years at his disposal, it was impractical to read them all. Where should I start? Should I just read them in any order that comes to mind? Suddenly, a thought struck him.

“I’ve got it!” Sirone exclaimed to himself. Since all knowledge was interconnected, it would be best to focus on one field initially and then supplement it with others later. Which field should I delve into first? As he pondered, a smile crept onto his face. “History,” he whispered. It was the backbone of knowledge, where all of humanity’s events were meticulously recorded in chronological order.

Sirone envisioned history as a horizon. If expanded, it would contain all of humanity’s knowledge, including religion, science, magic, mythology, literature, art, politics, war, economics, and more, all arranged in chronological order.

“Mastering history will significantly expedite the process of supplementing other areas of knowledge. History truly forms the backbone of understanding.”

According to the classification list he had created, there were approximately eight hundred fifty history books in the grand library. Sirone was resolute in his decision. I will read eight hundred of these books over the next two years. By doing so, he planned to establish the foundations of his knowledge.

From that day on, Sirone didn’t return to his quarters after work. Instead, he read books. He could skip roll call under the pretext of overtime. In fact, aside from the under-butler, Temuran, no one paid much attention to Sirone, who was a temporary member of staff.

This isn’t easy. Reading history books was very grueling. For a boy who had spent fifteen years in the mountains, the unfamiliar continents, names, figures, and events tangled together and were not easy to grasp. Should I try to memorize them all? Sirone shook his head. Memorizing is important, but I also need to be able to recall the information at any moment. Understanding even a single event thoroughly is the fastest way to make my foundations solid.

Understanding history was like intensive labor. He had to carefully examine why such events were inevitable and what impact they would have in the future. His efficiency plummeted, and even after a week, he couldn’t finish reading a single book. Naturally, the days of falling asleep in the library became more frequent, and there were moments when he collapsed as if he had fainted.

At four in the morning, the iron door creaked open, and Temuran, holding a crystal lamp, entered. Sirone hadn’t noticed, but every day at this time, Temuran would come in to monitor him. His gaze fell on the book in front of Sirone. It’s the same book again. Although the content wasn’t particularly difficult, Sirone had been holding onto the same book for nearly two weeks. Temuran let out a snort.

He had initially intended to restrict Sirone’s movements, assuming he was engrossed in practical books like a madman. But he decided that there was no point. Thinking that reading a bit of text could lead to grandiose dreams was pure folly.

“How foolish for someone like him, an untouchable, to dream of success.” To succeed through study, one needed not only a sharp mind but also the ability to think critically. Temuran believed that Sirone’s dreams were too grandiose and that he was in a bind either way.

***

Three months had passed, and Sirone had gotten more used to the classification work. Through the butlers, he also learned various facts. The most shocking among them was that the nobles didn’t care whether books were leaked or not.

He was told the family’s traditions were only passed down to the immediate heir, and the nobles, who had so much to do in the world, didn’t even care if a few books went missing.

However, it didn’t mean things had become less dangerous. The nonchalance of the nobles relied on the unwavering loyalty of the ignorant commoners. The butlers could be ruthless to prevent even the slightest mistake. Nobles didn’t remember or care about things that didn’t involve them directly. Meanwhile, commoners had to risk their lives for every detail. Sirone keenly felt how differently the two classes thought.

Then, one afternoon, as the library door creaked open, the voice of an unfamiliar boy echoed. “Ugh, that damn geezer. Can’t I catch a break on days like this?”

At the unexpected guest’s entrance, Sirone blinked in surprise. That boy must be...

It was Lian Ojent, the youngest son of the family. He had a rugged, well-defined face, and even though they were of the same age, he was a head taller than Sirone.

A voice outside the library shouted, “Lian! How dare you run away?! That’ll be an extra hundred laps in the garden if you’re caught!”

“Agh! Damn it!” Lian, who had been darting between the shelves in a frenzy, finally spotted Sirone. Without giving him a chance to react, he rushed forward and grabbed Sirone’s shoulder. “Hey! Pretend you didn’t see me here. Got it?” Then he crouched down to hide under the bookshelf as the old man’s roar shook the library.

“Lian! I know you’re hiding in here!” The old man, with his white beard extending down to his chest, had broad shoulders and was so tall he could be mistaken for a giant. With a stern look, he approached Sirone. “You!” he bellowed. “Did a boy with blue hair and a peanut-sized head come in here?”

Sirone, knowing who the blue-haired boy was, pondered. If he’s considered a peanut, how would this old man perceive me? “You must be talking about Master Lian. Excuse me, but who might you be, sir?” Sirone considered redirecting the conversation, but the old man saw through his thoughts.

“I’m his sword instructor! Meaning, I’m the peanut’s master who has the right to beat his ass! So quit the nonsense and quickly tell me where he is if you know what’s good for you.”

Sirone hesitated for a second. He was the sword instructor of the house entrusted to instruct the young master, meaning that he wasn’t someone to joke with.

“Ah, I see. If it’s Master Lian you’re looking for, then he’s hiding under the bookshelf over there.”

“Hey! Are you out of your mind? Do you want to die?” Lian cried, emerging with a stern expression. Then he spotted the sword instructor who had approached him and began to tremble like an aspen in the wind. “Master Kait, this is all a misunderstanding!”

“You fool!” The sword instructor grabbed Lian by the collar and delivered a powerful blow.

“Aaargh!” Lian groaned as he fell to the ground.

At that moment, Sirone closed one eye. With an enormous sound reverberating, Lian sprawled on the floor, his limbs trembling.

“Come along, you imbecile! You’re in desperate need of mental training from scratch.” Being dragged with his legs firmly held, Lian’s view was turned upside down as he faced Sirone. Then he muttered something. Although his words were inaudible, Sirone could still clearly understand his message.

“I’m going to get you.”