Lucien couldn't think of anything else.
Ever since his conversation with Mira, one thought kept haunting him: how could he forget something as important as the reason behind the mark burned into his skin?
He remembered it was tied to a promise... a vow shared between brothers, sealed in blood and faith. But no matter how hard he tried to recall, his mind gave him only emptiness.
Something was wrong. Something unnatural.
So, to silence his frustration, Lucien did what he knew best: he worked.He went down to the forge outside the manor, lit the fire, and picked up his hammer.
The night stretched on. Hours passed.
Clang.Clang.Clang.
Each strike echoed through the stone walls, a rhythm of anger and purpose. Sparks burst into the dark, lighting his face with every swing.
He focused on what he still remembered.He was a Templar.And a Templar never abandons his creed.
Protect the innocent. Fight the darkness. Defend the light.
The words echoed in his mind with every blow. He shaped the shapeless metal as if purging it of sin. And when the blade finally took form, he engraved his creed and the mark of the Templars of Jerusalem upon it.
"If those who bear this mark have become thieves and murderers…" he murmured, voice heavy with conviction,"…then I'll fight them myself. Even if I have to stand alone."
As he pressed the final inscription into the glowing steel, a silver light shined from the weapon... alive, resonating with his soul.
And then, the System spoke.
[System Notification]Level Up – Blacksmith: Lv. 10
New Skill Unlocked: [Forge Inheritance]
[Skill: Forge Inheritance (SS-Rank)]
Type: Active (Forge)
Prerequisite: [Ancestral Vow]
Effect: Grants the ability to Infuse Sentience into forged items. The host can transfer latent Mana memory from Unique Artifacts and Prime Materials into a forged vessel.
Scaling: Effectiveness is directly proportional to the Purity of the Material and the Depth of the Ancestral Vow held by the host.
Warning: Incorrect or impure infusion attempts will result in Catastrophic Mana Waste and Destruction of the Catalyst.
Lucien froze.
SS-Rank?And… Ancestral Vow?
Even the description confused him. Was this really the skill of a blacksmith?
He lowered his gaze to the blade and activated his appraisal skill.
[Appraisal]
Item:Templar's Oathblade
Rarity: Rare
Durability: 100%
Effect: Mana Conductivity +5%
Special Attribute:Unbreakable Vow Strength Modifier: +1
A chill ran down his spine.
The sword felt alive for a second its edge softly shinning.He could feel something within it…
He tightened his grip on the sword's hilt.
And in the silence of the forge, where flame met steel and memory met will, a forgotten promise stirred awake.
The next morning, sunlight filtered softly through the manor's tall windows.
Lucien sat at his desk, eyes fixed on his tablet, scrolling through the Hunters Association's global database. He typed in the name of his new ability, Forge Inheritance (SS-Rank), and waited as thousands of entries loaded.
He read through them all. Articles, forum discussions, archived reports on rare blacksmith skills.Nothing.
Not a single mention of Forge Inheritance.Not even a whisper of Ancestral Vow.
Lucien leaned back in his chair, exhaling."This description…" he muttered, "it's too vague. Infuse Sentience? Mana Memory?"He rubbed his temples. "What are you trying to tell me, System?"
Before he could think further, there was a knock at the door.
"Come in," he said.
Mr. Roger stepped in, his usual calm smile on his face. "Lucien, you have a visitor."
Lucien blinked. "A visitor?"He wasn't expecting anyone.
He followed Mr. Roger through the hall, out into the garden. The morning air was fresh, carrying the faint scent of dew and freshly cut grass.
Sitting at a small table beneath the shade of an oak tree was Hassan, waving casually with a grin.
"Hey, Luc, my man! How are you holding up?"
"Luc…?" Lucien tilted his head.
"Yeah, short for Lucien," Hassan replied proudly.
Lucien frowned slightly. "Is Lucien not short enough already?"
Hassan raised an eyebrow. "Alright, alright, we'll find something else. Don't worry, buddy."
Lucien couldn't help but chuckle, lowering his gaze as he took a seat.It was strange, but comforting... this warmth, this casual familiarity.
Hassan started recounting everything that had happened during the breakout... how the news of Lucien's fight with the Orc Leader had spread among local hunters, how the civilians they'd saved had been evacuated safely.
Lucien listened quietly, occasionally smiling at Hassan's animated gestures.
After a while, Hassan leaned forward, resting his arms on the table."So… what's next for you, Luc? You thinking of joining Blades of Lyon?"
Lucien paused.
The question hung in the air for a moment, carried by the rustling of leaves.
Then he shook his head slowly."No, my friend," he said with a faint, melancholic smile. "My path leads elsewhere… unfortunately."
Hassan exhaled, clearly disappointed but trying not to show it."Alright, alright. But hey, take my number, yeah? And give me yours too. Let's stay in touch, my friend."
Lucien smiled again, a genuine one this time and nodded.He entered Hassan's number into his contacts list, alongside the few names he had in this new world: Mr. Roger, Léon, and now, Hassan.
It wasn't much. But it was a start.
Lucien had made his decision.
It was time to leave the Beaumont Manor.
He couldn't stay forever in someone else's home, no matter how kind they had been. His path was calling him elsewhere, even if he didn't yet know where that path led.
He found Mr. Roger in the hallway, reviewing some documents near the library door.
"Mr. Roger," Lucien said, his tone composed but resolute. "Is Lady Mira here?"
Mr. Roger looked up, his usual gentle smile softening. "I'm afraid she's out for the moment, Sir Lucien. Would you like to leave a message?"
Lucien hesitated for a second, then shook his head. "No… I'll tell her in person when she returns. But I wanted to speak to you first."
Mr. Roger tilted his head slightly. "Of course. What is it?"
Lucien drew in a slow breath. "I've decided to leave the manor. I can't impose any longer. You've all done more for me than I could have ever asked for."
For a moment, silence filled the hall. Then Mr. Roger nodded... calm as always, though Lucien could see a hint of sadness behind his eyes.
"I understand," he said softly. "But such a decision deserves a proper farewell, don't you think?"
Lucien blinked. "A farewell…?"
Mr. Roger's smile widened just a little. "A small gathering. Nothing extravagant. Invite the people to whom you'd like to say goodbye. It's the least we can do."
Lucien's expression softened. "You're… too kind, Mr. Roger."
"Nonsense," the old butler replied. "It's simply the right thing to do."
Later that evening, Lucien sat on his bed with his tablet in hand.He opened his contacts and sent two quick messages.
To Hassan: "Come to the manor tomorrow. There's something I'd like to tell you in person."To Léon: "I'll be leaving soon. Come by tomorrow if you can."
He hesitated for a moment, then looked toward the door.
"Mr. Roger," he called out as the butler passed by the hallway. "Could you let Renan know as well? And if Lady Mira has the time… I'd like to speak with her before I go."
Mr. Roger bowed slightly. "Of course, Sir Lucien. I'll make sure she gets the message."
Lucien nodded, his gaze drifting toward the window.Outside, the city lights shinned under the night sky, distant and cold.
Tomorrow, he would say his goodbyes.And after that… his journey would truly begin.