From Secret Clan to the Divine Dynasty

He had killed seventeen of Rhea’s cavalrymen; the rest of the enemies should have scattered without their commander.

Snowflakes danced wildly in the sky, soft and light, twirling and swaying, mystical and beautiful.

Lucius stumbled forward, aware that the severe loss of blood was affecting him, and the effect of the blood potion could only provide limited healing.

“If not for the Extraordinary trait ‘Fight to the Death,’ I wouldn’t have been able to fight at all.”

But he had just realized one thing—that even a passive Extraordinary trait required a minuscule amount of Spiritual Power to maintain.

The blow that the half-orc knight had delivered to his waist had been nearly fatal; his liver was ruptured.

Moreover, the power of the protective runes lasted only an instant. At that time, they had failed to stop all the bullets, and the last few shots fired by the men were not blocked by the runes; one of the bullets had successfully hit an artery in his thigh.

Dizziness.

It felt as though the ground beneath his feet had lost its gravity, everything swayed on the brink of collapse, and all the surrounding scenery spun rapidly in the same direction.

Lucius tried to steady himself but could only see the constantly tilting snowy ground. Then came the buzzing noise in his ears.

Buzz…

The world fell silent.

He lay quietly feeling the chill of his cheeks against the snow, watching the snowflakes falling, while an assortment of strange, nonsensical thoughts suddenly sprang to mind.

Why did I leave that city in the first place? Lucius vaguely remembered that gentle and beautiful woman, Byrne’s mother, who had pleaded with him tearfully, wanting him to stay.

But he was very afraid.

Family, marriage, everything related to the concept of relatives, filled Lucius with enormous fear, restlessness, and sleepless nights. It was more unbearable than any sharp knife or axe.

Family meant constraints, meant he could no longer fight unrestrained, couldn’t do whatever he wanted, had to share all his property for free with another person, and his enemies would have a vulnerable point to exploit.

Essentially, it also meant he had to bid farewell to the people from the mercenary group who had accompanied him for decades, completely abandoning the familiar past of his former life.

Back then, just thinking about it shook him with fear, feeling as if facing death was nothing worse.

Lucius cowardly left, fleeing with the people from the mercenary group, not even daring to say goodbye to that gentle beautiful woman. The others in the group weren’t surprised; they just felt it was a shame.

“So that’s how it was; I had forgotten…”

With that thought, he gradually fell into an overwhelming sleepiness, his thoughts slowly fading away.

So cold!

“Cough, cough, cough!”

As he opened his eyes again, what entered his vision were shrinking snowflakes, and blood surged from his painfully sore throat, abruptly waking him.

Lucius sat up shivering, wondering why his body seemed to be filled with strength again. Could it be that the Spiritual Power had naturally recovered and reactivated ‘Fight to the Death’?

He stood up again, surprisingly finding his mind exceptionally clear.

“Huh.”

Unable to contain his elation, Lucius continued to step forward. Very soon, a new thought emerged in his mind. Why did he go back then?

It was after everyone from the mercenary group had died that he returned to the city he had fled.

All members of the mercenary group were dead, and at that time, Lucius had lost almost everything. He spent his days in a daze, squandering the inheritance of the mercenary group, eventually becoming a detestable drunkard.

People would take detours to avoid him; he reeked and was so drunk every day he couldn’t even lift his sword anymore.

Then one day, that despicable man recalled the gentle and beautiful woman. The selfish wretch wanted to return and receive her pity, even a bit of consolation would have been enough to make him feel reassured.

But he never saw her again; instead, while peering into the house, he saw a thin, sickly, and inarticulate boy.

He was like some frail little animal, weak, young, and unsettlingly vulnerable as if the slightest malice from anything could easily destroy him.

The next moment, Lucius realized that this was his son.

He carefully inquired and confirmed this, and also learned that the boy’s name was Byrne, which meant the wise and warning bird, “raven”.

Lucius, after a long absence, took a bath again, shaved, and then came to the doorstep once more, hesitating to knock and acknowledge the other.

Byrne must surely despise him.

So, he grew afraid, going back and forth numerous times without entering the house, constantly debating whether to just leave for good, yet unable to completely put his mind at ease.

After secretly observing, Lucius discovered that the boy was timid to an extreme, and if not for the proactive charity of the neighbors, he probably would have secluded himself to the point of starvation.

How could there be a life so fragile and so foolish!

Until one day, Byrne, struggling to live on his own, collapsed from illness.

Lucius, unable to concern himself with anything else, could only burst into the house immediately to carefully tend to his unconscious son, while constantly berating himself for his cowardice.

Until the boy woke up, looked at him, and without a second thought, asked a question.

“Are you my father?”

He was silent for a long time, then finally nodded.

“Yes, I am your father.”

The boy’s naive eyes flickered with unhidden joy, grievance, unease, and finally, he asked in a timid, low voice:

“Will you leave again?”

“I will, but I will take you with me.”

He reached out his sturdy palm and gently stroked the boy’s hair, suddenly no longer fearing certain things in his heart.

The skinny boy was none other than his own son, with a pair of innocent blue eyes, unlike anyone from the mercenary group, and even different from that gentle and beautiful woman.

Lucius let out a smile from the depths of his heart, as the hatred for revenge was no longer the driving force urging him to hurry on, replaced by some newfound, deeply rooted strength.

“Byrne, I’m sorry, I’ve never been at peace with myself.”

“Thank you.”

He murmured, deeply aware that on that day it wasn’t he who saved the ill Byrne, but his appearance that had utterly saved himself.

There are some things that cannot be touched or reached, existing only in the gaze of people, yet shining brighter than diamonds, more noble than constellations, even greater than gods, providing more comfort than all the things in the world!

The Blazing Sun and Radiant Sun arrived overhead; their light rendered the surrounding snowscape immaculately white, as he was about to step out of the woods completely.

At some point, Lucius could no longer hear the sounds around him, feeling an unparalleled silence and peace in his heart and the whole world.

Snow.

Finally stopped.

Suddenly, a loud shout came from behind the man.

“Fire!”

He turned around sharply, and then time around him seemed to slow down.

A dozen Rhea infantrymen tensely raised their flintlocks, standing tens of meters away, as bullets were already firing out of the scorching muzzles.

Lucius instinctively wanted to dodge, but found both his Spirituality and physical strength had reached their limits, he couldn’t even activate the runes.

In the end, he could only watch the scene unfold calmly.

Everything was very slow.

Lucius pondered continuously as he faced death, but for some reason, there was no strong sense of regret in his heart, even though he still had important things to finish, like settling the score with that giant black dragon.

He soon understood, the giant dragon’s lifespan stretched for thousands of years, and the Fischer family would eventually become a powerful clan on this continent.

Generation after generation, succeeding one after another.

One day, someone will take his place to bring down that once unreachable giant black dragon!

He looked up calmly, as if speaking to the sky, to fate, or perhaps to a god.

Maybe it, or He, could convey his will.

Byrne, Irene, Chris, and the future members of the Fischer family.

“Step over my body and go forward.”