The Velheimort Forest—an expansive stretch of ancestral lands, covering countless hectares around Dragon’s Crest Castle. It’s one of the few places within the Earhart family’s territory that remains largely unexplored due to its strange and paradoxical occurrences. This very forest was where Raphael had to patrol each night under the elders’ orders.

— Yawn... — Raphael lazily yawned as he walked through the forest.

— “God, just let me guard the castle grounds. Why do they keep making me wander around in this darkness? Damn old geezers.

With a relaxed stride, Raphael strolled along a path several kilometers from the castle, contemplating the essence of existence and why fate seemed so cruel to him.

— And why did Mother only call for Erin? — he had been asking himself this question the entire way. — “Have I disappointed her so much that she doesn’t even want to see me anymore?”

— Hah, whatever, no point in dwelling on it. Either way, I’m in for one of those ‘fun’ nights.

Ignoring his worries, Raphael continued deeper into the forest.

Patrolling wasn’t a combat mission, so he was dressed in the standard Keeper’s attire: black, patched greaves over loose trousers, a belt with pouches containing essentials—for Raphael, that meant food and sweets in the form of lollipops. Over this, he wore a fitted turtleneck that covered his neck, all concealed under a cloak with sleeves and a hood—the traditional garb of the Keepers, along with a white scarf that Erin had given him to commemorate his appointment as a Keeper.

Each Keeper had their own cloak, adorned with various patterns and embroideries depending on the individual’s rank and the importance of their knightly order. In Raphael’s case, as a mere “guardian” of the castle, his cloak was decorated with only silver embroidery on the sleeves, collar, and hood—a rather trivial and even shameful outfit for a Keeper of such a prestigious family.

But who cared? Raphael had only been away from the castle a few times in his life, so he didn’t need to worry about what others thought of him. He didn’t even know what significant events were happening in the world, let alone what others called him, aside from his brothers.

After walking a few more kilometers, Raphael noticed something off.

— Hah... Alright, maybe I’m not the most outstanding of my brothers, but do you seriously not take me seriously at all?

With those words, the atmosphere around Raphael shifted. His mana surged outward, his mere intent enough to rob his pursuers of their voice, and for some, even the will to keep their eyes on him.

— Forgive us, forgive us, — one of the pursuers said, stepping out of the shadows. — We meant no offense, Sir “Honored Knight.”

The stranger’s tone dripped with contempt toward Raphael. The man stood no taller than 190 centimeters with an average build. He wore a mask that covered half his face and a black cloak. He looked like a generic thug from the newspapers Erin handed Raphael each morning.

— Frankly, I don’t give a damn why you’re looking for me. The only thing I’m interested in... is how the hell you got in here? — Raphael’s tone shifted abruptly from calm to aggressive. — You obviously had help. Who was it?

And it was true—Dragon’s Crest Castle was an incredibly dangerous place for uninvited guests. Anyone who tried to enter the estate without an invitation, even if they were from the imperial family of Alsion, faced certain death. These guys hadn’t just set foot on the estate; they’d literally made it from the border, 300 kilometers away from the castle, to here. Only a fool would believe they did that without help.

— Haha, you’re smarter than I expected from a ‘family disgrace,’ but don’t think I’ll just tell you.

With that, the pursuers emerged from the forest. There were about thirty of them—a small group, each armed with two daggers and hiding behind the trees.

— Well then, let’s see what the “Honored Kni...

Before he could finish, his right arm was severed and flew to the side.

— What?...

Aaaaah!

The scream echoed through the forest as the leader fell to his knees, dropping the knife from his left hand and clutching the wound.

With a calm step, Raphael approached the leader, while the other assassins stood frozen in shock.

They knew that even the most unremarkable Keeper wouldn’t be weak, but they never imagined he would be on par with at least an A-rank adventurer. For Raphael to sever their leader’s arm—who was considered an A+ rank assassin—with a single swift and unseen movement was utterly surreal to them.

What the hell... They told me he wouldn’t even put up much of a fight, but this pup is definitely not the weakling they reported.

Schwark

Grabbing the leader by the hair, Raphael’s dark gaze pierced into his opponent’s eyes.

— And they sent trash like you to kill me? Ridiculous. Have they stopped taking me seriously because I don’t interfere with family affairs?

— What are you standing around for? Attack him! — the leader commanded his subordinates.

A wave of daggers flew toward Raphael from all directions. Had he been an ordinary person, he wouldn’t have even had time to blink before being riddled with blades, but...

"Ha... you must be able to assess your strength."

In an instant, the air grew cold. Particles of mana under Raphael’s control took on a bluish hue, instantly forming an icy dome around him.

Zing-zing.

The daggers, upon hitting the dome, bounced off without even leaving a scratch and fell to the ground.

“So, the rumors about his ice magic weren’t lies? Truly a disgrace to the Earhart family. If you were born into the Sawyer family, you’d be priceless, but alas, what a loss,” the leader mused with regret, observing the battle while using a potion to stop the bleeding from his arm.

— Tsk, infuse your daggers with aura and attack him directly! — one of the subordinates ordered.

Responding to their comrade’s call, the attackers infused their daggers with aura and leaped at Raphael.

— Idiots, — Raphael muttered, dismissively characterizing his opponents. With a flick of his fingers on his left hand, he concentrated particles of mana on the ground beneath the feet of the charging assassins.

— Die.

Suddenly, ice spikes erupted from the ground where his opponents stood, impaling ten men in an instant. The remaining twenty pursuers were left stunned by such speed.

“Even with a Blazing Flame Spark, it shouldn’t be possible to manipulate mana this quickly. How is he capable of this?”

“Isn’t the Earhart family’s main strength in their swordsmanship? If he fights like this with just magic... what will happen when he draws his sword?” the invaders thought, fear gripping their hearts.

— Don’t mistake me for an upstart, scums.

With those words, Raphael’s mana surged with renewed force. Now, he stood before his opponents not as a “family disgrace,” but as a terrifying monster.