A young boy walked through the palace halls, wearing a white linen shirt far too large for his frame and a pair of brown trousers designed more for comfort than fashion loose enough not to hinder movement.
Ludleth had left his room to clear his mind.
As he wandered, he noticed how the castle owned by his family for generations had recently been renovated.
The walls were now lined with portraits, mostly depicting the kings of old. Each of these paintings alone could be worth hundreds of gold coins enough to let a common family live comfortably for two generations.
Seeing such extravagance, the boy couldn't help but shake his head.
"If Father has so much gold to waste, why not use it to buy more relics instead?"
Ludleth had never appreciated art especially modern art, where painters seemed to abandon the classical standards of the past in favor of "innovation," losing all sense of authenticity and tradition. To him, it was a waste of gold.
Relics, on the other hand, were often one-of-a-kind artifacts from ancient civilizations. They helped uncover the origins of those who came before, offering glimpses into their lives. That, in Ludleth's eyes, was far more valuable than a canvas smeared with random colors.
While lost in his thoughts, Ludleth noticed a window overlooking the guards' training field.
Down below, soldiers clad in heavy gear moved in unison, swinging wooden swords in rhythmic drills.
Standing before them was a tall man, who looked around eighteen, with short brown hair, a light beard, and sharp, striking features that made him a natural magnet for women. But if one looked closely, they'd notice something familiar those piercing blue eyes, just like Ludleth's.
As soon as he saw the man, the boy clicked his tongue in annoyance.
"Look at him, strutting around like a peacock. Waving that sword like he's the gift of the gods."
"Give it a few more days and they'll mint a gold coin with his face on it to honor his divine excellence."
While he was mocking the man from the safety of the window, a voice suddenly spoke up from behind him.
"Look! A little green goblin's snuck into the castle."
Recognizing that voice, the color drained from Ludleth's face, his complexion turning pale.
"Mother? What are you doing here?" he asked, trying to sound solemn.
"My beloved Ludleth! I hadn't seen you there. Tell me, have you happened to spot a little envious goblin around?"
At that point, the boy knew that lying would only make her angrier. So, he chose the only sensible option.
"I'm sorry, Mother. I know you don't like it when I speak ill of my brothers."
Anna's face, which seemed moments away from scolding him, softened. She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him.
"You shouldn't resent Moron just because he's more gifted than you. Envy never brings good."
The boy sighed. "I know, Mother. But it's hard not to when he struts around like that."
"He's not showing off, he's training. And besides, you're better than him at history. In fact, I'd wager that there are only a handful of people in the entire kingdom with your knowledge of it."
At that, Ludleth smiled at his mother's compliment.
"That's true. Not many care about history anymore. Some don't even know the Empire of Fire existed. Ignorant fools don't even know their own roots."
"But that's not the point, Mother. History might come in handy at a palace banquet at best, while Moron's skills are useful everywhere."
"There's nothing you can do about that, my dear. If it were up to me, I'd have given you the largest aura in the world. Sadly, we don't get to choose these things."
Anna sighed as she gently ran her fingers through Ludleth's hair. Her heart ached for her son, born with a painfully low aura. His weak body was the result. And although he had trained hard and his aura had improved with effort, he would never catch up to his brothers who were born with overwhelming power. She knew how much Ludleth longed to be like them.
That's why her son had thrown himself into studying history hoping that in the wisdom of the ancients, he might find a solution to his problem.
"I've told you, you don't have to become an aura warrior. In a few months, you'll begin your mana training, and I just know you'll excel at it."
Ludleth listened to her encouraging words, but deep down, he knew the truth was harsher. After all, there was a reason all information about mana use was restricted until a certain age.
"Yes… you're right, Mother. Even if it won't be the same, I'll do my best to make you proud."
Seeing her son uplifted again, Anna couldn't help but smile and hug him even tighter perhaps too tightly.
Ludleth tapped his mother on the shoulder, signaling that she was hugging him a bit too tightly.
Realizing it, she quickly loosened her grip and muttered a soft apology.
The boy could only sigh. His mother was always the same cheerful, loving, and blissfully unchanged.
In truth, he hadn't changed much either. Maybe he'd matured a little. What had once felt like an identity crisis now seemed to have quieted down inside him.
Perhaps his mind was beginning to compartmentalize those memories, pushing them further away from his core thoughts turning them into something more like a film. It helped preserve who he had always been.
Still, an experience like that does change you. Thankfully, this change had been a good one.
He knew full well that envying his brother was petty and foolish… but those feelings weren't so easy to erase. Just because something is wrong doesn't mean it stops hurting.
But having memories from another life gave him a new lens through which to see his own actions, past and future.
'From today on, I should be different. I'm not just an ordinary boy anymore. I have a multiversal summoning system. I even convinced a goddess of war to help me become stronger. I can't waste my energy envying others when I myself am something special.'
He exhaled slowly, a breath that seemed to purge all his bitterness. And then, something shifted in his eyes a new clarity, a subtle but brilliant glow.
Anna noticed the sudden change in her son. For a moment, she was confused. But then she smiled. He looked lighter. As if a burden had finally been lifted from his shoulders.
"Anyway, Mother… what are you doing here?"
"I came to get you ready for dinner, but I didn't expect you to be up already. I'm glad to see you on your feet earlier than Joe predicted, no less. I should've known, you are my son after all."
Hearing that, Ludleth already knew what was coming. And he didn't like it.
"Actually, Mother… I don't think I'm feeling all that well. I might skip dinner tonight," he said, placing a hand on his forehead and faking a feeble tone.
"Nonsense. I won't allow you to eat alone in your room like some sickly old man."
Anna spoke with the kind of authority that left no room for negotiation.
"And look at what you're wearing. Those rags? Come, we need to find you something decent."
Ludleth could only sigh as his mother dragged him away.
There were few things his mother was truly strict about and clothing was one of them.
He never fully understood where her obsession came from. Maybe it had something to do with her past as an adventurer, when she was forced to wear the same drab armor day after day just for survival.
Ludleth sometimes joked in his mind that his mother married his father just so she could have an infinite wardrobe. But then he'd see the way she looked at his father and quickly dismissed the idea.
Unfortunately, that obsession extended to him as well. Since childhood, he'd been treated like her personal dress-up doll, enduring endless outfit changes.
He hated it.
So much so that he had started wearing simple adventurer's clothes comfortable, practical, and far from noble fashion. But every time his mother caught him, she'd mutter something about "youthful rebellion" and drag him into a marathon of wardrobe changes.
Today was no exception.
⸻
A few hours later, Ludleth emerged from his ordeal.
He wore a long, black coat with a tailored silhouette that brushed the floor, its back split in a way that evoked a falcon's diving wings. The fabric was dense and matte, yet it caught the light with a subtle elegance.
Underneath, he wore a six-button black waistcoat over a crisp white shirt, its high ruffled collar brushing against his neck. Ivory trousers, cut slim but flowing, tucked neatly into glossy black leather boots, which rose to his calves and were adorned only by a single engraved floral trim.
Atop his head sat a black top hat.
"Can I at least take off the hat? I look like a court juggler," Ludleth grumbled.
"The hat stays. It completes the look." Anna replied, adjusting a small crease in his sleeve.
"But it's ridiculous."
"It's noble."
Their eyes met in a silent battle of wills. Eventually, Ludleth sighed in defeat.
"Fine."
He couldn't win. His mother was too stubborn to be swayed. Even though he felt like a mannequin trapped in formalwear, he held his tongue.
"It doesn't just look good on you. It looks perfect," Anna said, her smile radiant.
"Now come on. The rest of the family is waiting."
She took his hand and led him through the halls of the castle, until they finally reached the dining hall doors.
As they arrived, a servant noticed them, bowed respectfully to Anna, and she returned the gesture with a slight nod. The servant then opened the doors.
Inside was a grand hall with an enormous table surrounded by seven chairs. All but two were occupied, and behind each seated guest stood silent, poised servants awaiting instructions.
The chairs were arranged strangely two on each side of the table, and one large throne at the head.
On that throne sat a tall man in his thirties, with chestnut-brown hair and piercing blue eyes.
His posture and presence left no doubt:
He was the King of Astror, Ludleth's father.