“Captain, I’ve been telling you all along. He’s a fellow who’s naturally different from ordinary people.”

As Cassius spoke proudly, Reinhardt, who was walking beside him, nodded his head with a satisfied expression.

“Considering it takes half a year for knights who have opened their auras to channel their own power into their swords, Walter is truly exceptional.”

They were now heading towards the backyard used by the members of the mercenary unit for training.

There, under the bluish moonlight, Walter was honing his physique. His sharp gaze was so intense that it rendered the near-midnight hour and chilly weather irrelevant. The few members training with him couldn’t even catch his eye.

Reinhardt, observing Walter’s agility that had changed from a week ago, gently patted Cassius on the shoulder.

“Shall we test him to see if he’s not just training hard in appearance?”

“Shall we?”

With a slight grin, Cassius picked up the wooden sword he’d set aside and charged directly at Walter.

Thud!

Walter instantly adopted a defensive stance, and the two wooden swords clashed heavily.

“You should’ve loosened up before attacking.”

Walter retorted, launching a wide counterattack.

“Eek!”

Cassius barely dodged a sword energy that seemed impossible to emanate from a wooden sword.

The tip of his hair was sliced off and scattered in the air.

‘Insane…’

The captain’s words about how handling mana was more difficult than aura seemed to not apply to Walter.

Just as Walter was aiming at Cassius’s torso,

Swoosh—

Reinhardt swung his wooden sword with unwavering posture.

Walter detected the strike and twisted his body.

A clang resonated as their wooden swords vibrated upon contact.

“Ah, you’re fast.”

“Are you showing off even in the middle of the night?”

Walter’s eyes gleamed, not flustered by the sudden onslaught but rather enjoying it.

Concentrating all his power into his wooden sword, Reinhardt winked at Cassius.

As Cassius charged towards Walter’s exposed back,

Snap—

For a moment, a dense magical force erupted, and both his and Reinhardt’s wooden swords warped.

Turning their swords into wands was actually easier than controlling their mana to change their shapes.

Both Cassius and Reinhardt clicked their tongues as they looked at their swords, now transformed into wands.

“It’s nice to feel proud as a master, but it’s also somewhat disappointing, isn’t it?”

“Walter, you’ve improved. Next time, we’ll have to bring others along to attack.”

“What brings you here so late?”

As Walter retracted his mana, their swords returned to their original forms.

Instead of Reinhardt, who just raised an eyebrow, Cassius spoke up.

“Sophia Portrion and the steward Whitman will be transferred to the monastery in a few days.”

Walter immediately understood what he meant.

“Since all the people who’d want to slander Portrion are gathering in one place, it’s time to show them what the mansion of a bloodsucking lord looks like.”

Although his tone was playful, deep anger towards Portrion, who had stolen seven years of his life, was embedded in Walter’s voice.

This anger would soon lead the furious people into Portrion’s mansion, crowning Helen as the lord and marking the end of Nicholas’s era in disgrace.

Cassius felt a peculiar thrill when he thought that the big picture Walter had long been painting was about to be completed, thanks to the accounting books that Edith had leaked.

At the same time, he remembered the fourth lady who was still confined in the mansion.

‘What could have possibly happened between them? They’ll be reuniting soon.’

Still filled with curiosity, Cassius remained puzzled. Reinhardt, unaware of his inner thoughts, naturally showed interest in Walter’s mana.

“No matter how I think about it, it’s strange. With this level of power, you should’ve been able to break free from any moderate binding spells.”

“How many times are you going to say that?”

“It’s strange, that’s why I keep saying it.”
“Anyway, my binding magic is already undone, so what’s the point?”

Edith had thrown me out of the mansion like a useless object, so the fact that I couldn’t escape earlier didn’t matter to her.

What mattered to her was that she could undo the binding magic on me, with the help of Reinhardt’s power.

“Walter, don’t be foolish, please… You can’t save me.”

Would Edith say the same thing, even if I broke the binding magic myself?

She might figure it out with her astute mind. Pretending to free me from Portrion, only to confine me again by her side.

At first, I thought about keeping her and then figuring out what to do next, but as I spent days honing my magic with the idea of freeing her, a realization struck me.

What I desired was to keep Edith confined, just that act itself.

Not to drain her and keep her from leaving, but to desire the confinement itself. I wanted to possess her completely.

I had never wanted to own something so much.