# Enhanced Translation
"Ugh, I thought I was going to die of boredom."
Mord stretched his shoulders with a crack as he exited the school gate. The Knight Faculty classes were unbearably dull. From the beginning, someone like him who had experienced the war years had nothing to learn at the university level.
Training was boring, sparring was trivial, and tactical classes were just reading from manuals. Rather than hoping to learn something here, it would be better to spar among the Huskarls.
"Great. Now let's go see our kids!"
Pritzenkaya was a bleak city, but like a true man of Droan, Mord had found a suitable hobby amidst it all.
Surprisingly, that hobby was volunteering at an orphanage.
The beginning was somewhat coercive and humiliating... but what did the motivation matter? As long as he was genuinely enjoying the situation now, that was all that mattered.
Mord walked toward the orphanage with steps that had somehow become lighter.
Just thinking about those plucky little ones brought a smile to his face. They were affectionate, energetic, bold, and even overflowing with talent.
'I still don't understand how they manage to deceive my senses...'
When they snuck up behind him and shouted "Boo!" to surprise him—deceiving the senses of an active Huskarl—he nearly drew his axe. Well, the director there was no ordinary person.
"Mord."
"...?!!"
Mord jumped in surprise, reaching for his waist as he stepped back. Suddenly, a chilling killing intent was swirling through the alley.
The sensation was like a wolf lurking in darkness, ready to tear into his neck at any moment.
That startling murderous intent, trained... yet unrefined wild bloodlust streamed out from the entrance of the alley.
'Damn...!'
Mord swallowed hard. It was a familiar sensation. There was only one person besides the Seven Dragon Generals who possessed this level of killing intent. He recognized it immediately. This was... this was...
His furious older brother!
Why? How was he here?
"B-Brother...?"
Was there anyone in Pritzenkaya, in this city, who could stand against his enraged brother? No, that's the wrong expression. Not a person, but an army would be needed.
Was there an army in this city that could stand against "that man"...?
"The report was missing."
"Brother, wait. I don't understand how you're here... Couldn't you have at least sent word before coming...?"
"I received a letter from Essie."
Essie's letter...? What on earth did his niece say that made his brother rush all the way from distant Droan to here, radiating killing intent while glaring at him?
"Who is he?"
"...Pardon?"
"Who is the man Essie says she's going to marry?"
Each syllable exploded with wild ferocity.
Ah, Essie. What have you done?
He looked at the man before him with resentment toward his thoughtless niece. The terror of demons, Blood Sea of Death. Einarr the Annihilator.
Mord swallowed and slowly put down his weapon, carefully kneeling.
As if doing so would at least allow him to die peacefully.
Despite the warm summer sunshine, the alley was as cold as ice.
"Speak. Who is the man Essie has been seeing lately?"
"Well... about that..."
Mord racked his brain with all his might. Who could it be? He had made sure no man dared approach Asidis while he was watching.
His surveillance of Asidis did become somewhat lax during volunteer hours, but there should have been signs.
If a young person in the prime of their life were dating, they couldn't escape the eyes of such an experienced warrior.
But as for men Essie had met recently...
'Huh?'
Ivan Petrovich.
Mord's expression hardened. There was one. Ivan...! The one who recommended vegetarianism to Asidis and occasionally supervised her training...
But the age difference... No, before that. Was Ivan really trying to marry Asidis? Does that make any sense?
Mord's eyes spun in circles. Should he say it? Ivan didn't seem like the type to harbor such intentions.
It was hard to believe that man had romantic feelings. He didn't even have time for such things, and Mord owed him his life.
No.
A man of Droan never forgets a debt of gratitude.
Mord's eyes opened with firm resolve. He raised his head decisively.
"..."
A young man was looking down at him from the alley entrance.
The dense magical power in his body, and the tremendous anger that always flowed through his veins, even deflecting aging... A monster who maintained the body of his prime, his heyday.
One of the men who far transcended human limits. Einarr's eyes, which Mord was facing after a long time, shone so sharply that it felt like they could tear his soul apart just by looking at them.
But Mord was also a man of Droan. A warrior of Droan never... never.
"It's Ivan Petrovich, Brother!!"
After all, brotherhood doesn't weigh more heavily than a life debt. The price of his life could be paid separately later.
Mord decided to show his loyalty to his brother like a steadfast Droan Huskarl.
"He's dead."
"I thought so too! Brother, that bastard is alive!!"
"Hmm..."
The killing intent rising like a heat haze from Einarr's body faltered. He soon frowned with a bewildered expression.
"You're saying he survived after being cut down by the Seven Dragon Generals?"
"Yes, Brother!"
"That's... surprising."
Einarr turned his head and growled lowly.
"Find him."
"Yes, Brother!!"
Huskarls who had been leaning against the alley walls and fences scattered throughout the city all at once.
# Ep 13. Meeting the Family
On a lazy afternoon, Asidis was defeated in her war with musical notes.
It was a glorious end befitting a female warrior of Droan. At least she had given it her all.
She was nodding off over a music sheet half-covered in doodles when she suddenly looked up in surprise.
"Mmph?!"
She hurriedly wiped her mouth and looked around. Fortunately, no one on campus seemed to be paying attention to her.
Ugh... As she stretched and gathered her music sheets, strange things caught her eye.
Massive, bizarre figures hopping between walls and disappearing...
Dressed in outfits you'd only expect to see in Droan, wandering around the school and alleys...
"What is this, am I still dreaming?"
Asidis stared blankly at the scene before shaking her head. Have I been tired lately? What a strange dream. Why would my uncles be in Pritzenkaya... Wait, "uncles"? Plural?
She made eye contact with one of the men. He smiled brightly and waved his thick, muscle-covered arm.
"Oh, Essie, have you been well!"
"Uh... uhh...?"
"Our princess, see you later! Uncle's a bit busy right now!"
The berserker who had warmly greeted her jumped over the wall and disappeared.
Asidis stood with her mouth open in a "heh" before looking around. Terror-stricken students were screaming and fleeing in groups!
"This... isn't a dream!!"
Asidis exclaimed in shock as she stood up and ran in the direction her uncle had disappeared.
Why! Why had her "uncles" swarmed all the way to school!
They can't ruin my school life any further!!
She had already half-given up on the orchestra club, and had just started getting friendly with the vocal music students!
Asidis screamed as she sprinted toward the school gate.
Elizabeta didn't even notice dropping her pen as she had to ask again.
"...Tell me again. Am I dreaming right now?"
"No, Your Majesty."
The palace chamberlain was kneeling at her feet, sweating profusely. He too was finding it difficult to explain the current situation logically.
"It seems that King Einarr is now in Pritzenkaya... um... in this city."
"It seems? What kind of talk is that? Either he is here or he isn't."
"Well... it appears he entered illegally..."
"What is the Immigration Office doing that we have so many illegal entries this year alone... No, never mind. Why would a king of a country illegally enter another country... No... that doesn't matter either. Did he... did he come alone?"
"No, Your Majesty. At least ten troops, presumed to be Huskarls, have been identified."
"Lord help me."
Elizabeta held her forehead and groaned for a while.
"He won't stay quiet, will he? Have there been any signs of... attempts to cause conflict?"
"He seemed to be looking for someone, but no particular incidents have been reported yet. Perhaps we should summon the Capital Defense Force..."
"Throw an army at Einarr? Haha, your joke is too much."
Elizabeta was someone who had experienced war, and the front lines at that. At a young age, she had served as the commander of the Annihilation Squad, whose initial purpose was to provide rear support for the Hero Party.
In other words, she was one of the few people who had directly faced the Hero Party's battles on the front lines.
'Einarr was selected to face entire legions.'
Beolgrin the "Fortress Destroyer" and Einarr the "Blood Sea of Death" were selections specialized for fighting against many opponents at once. When facing these individuals, the quality of troops matters more than their quantity.
More importantly, Einarr is now the king of Droan. Though it's unclear why a king would secretly cross another country's border, who could understand the mind of a man who thinks only of fighting?
The current disturbance could escalate into war depending on Elizabeta's choices. She suddenly felt sick to her stomach.
"What is the Foreign Intelligence Department doing that they couldn't even detect a king's disappearance? Hm? What am I supposed to do..."
Elizabeta pressed her brow and sobbed. She nearly burst into tears.
The festival she had carefully prepared was ruined, her romantic endeavors failed one after another, the nobles wouldn't listen, and the military was still anxiously whispering.
In the midst of all this, the king of Droan, which had been a friendly nation, suddenly invaded, ignoring all diplomatic procedures and lines, and was now roaming around the city.
She felt a stomach cramp and sniffled. This was all because of that bastard Alexandr. She decided to blame him.
"Vanka... Call Vanka for me."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
There were only two people in this city who could possibly stop Einarr.
Enrique and Ivan. Since Enrique was currently absent... Ivan was the only one she could rely on.
Fortunately, Ivan was acquainted with Einarr, which was a relief. She shook her head and rose from her seat.
"No, tell Vanka to find me. I need to handle this personally."
"But Your Majesty, it's too dangerous!"
"If Einarr has snuck into this city with ill intentions, there's no safe place in this city."
Elizabeta left her office with haggard eyes.
At that moment, Ivan was having a private meeting with Einarr.
"You bastard."
Einarr growled like a beast.
"I thought you were dead...!!"
He had even laid flowers at Ivan's grave. With a complex expression mixing betrayal and gladness, he glared at Ivan's expressionless eyes and said:
"You've become quite manly!"
"Eck."
Isabelle, standing beside Ivan, wrinkled her face in disgust.
She looked at Einarr's intricately braided beard, then at Ivan's face, and smacked her forehead.
"Droan men."