Aerick Windmere, Lord of the relatively prosperous village of Windmere, was a simple and passionate man.

At fifty years old, he had gentle eyes and a firm, noble face, settled comfortably into the prime of middle age. It was a face he would retain for many decades to come.

His body was powerful, and thanks to his talent, he still had a slim chance of reaching the fourth stage.

At that very moment, he was enjoying a perfect day alongside his wife and eldest son, who was turning five.

The beautiful, mature woman sat on a patio in the mansion’s backyard, a book resting open in her lap as she read in a relaxed manner.

Her ears picked up only the dry clacks of her son’s wooden sword clashing against his father’s, the two of them enjoying a pretend fight in the soft midday light.

Unfortunately, all of that came to an abrupt halt.

The captain of the Windmere guard flung open the door to the courtyard, his eyes cold, his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath.

"My lord, the guard has detected strange movement in the forest! At least three hundred men are marching toward us from the east, and they do not seem to wish us any good."

Aerick froze, his gaze taking on an icy edge as he turned to his wife.

"Wait for me, my love. I’ll handle this and be right back."

The woman, who had already pulled her son into a tight embrace, nodded worriedly, her fingers squeezing the boy’s small shoulders.

Aerick followed the guard in silence, his firm footsteps echoing through the wood corridors.

"I’m going to put on my armor. Prepare the troops and order every man of fighting age, whether armed with a club or a scythe, to gather at the walls."

The captain nodded and, with cold eyes, left the Lord’s mansion, shouting orders nonstop.

Left alone, Aerick sighed deeply, stepping into his personal armory and gripping the hilt of his sword firmly.

He ran his gaze along the blade’s edge, closing his eyes for a brief moment.

This was the first time, since becoming Lord, that his sword would taste human blood.

Opening his eyes, he nodded to the servant who had just arrived, asking for help with his armor.

It took no more than a few minutes before Aerick Windmere stood fully equipped in an old yet beautiful and powerful suit of steel armor.

His steps were firm as he watched hundreds of men gather along the wall.

Leaping up and reaching the top, he fixed his gaze on the invaders.

Ethan, now alone on his black horse, had taken the lead among the three hundred soldiers. He looked up, returning Aerick’s gaze.

He counted at least fifty men on the wall and imagined another three hundred and fifty must be guarding the gates.

A dangerous number, even if most were untrained civilians.

"Young man." Aerick’s cold eyes fell upon Ethan. "I don’t know why you came all this way to lead all these men to their deaths.

But I ask that you have mercy on their mothers, that you have mercy on their wives, and that you have mercy on your own mother and your own wife.

Go back."

Ethan smiled in response to the veiled threat. He dismounted and passed the reins to one of his men, who led the horse to the rear of the small army.

"I agree with you. So let’s make sure all these men return home unharmed." Ethan drew his beautiful elven sword, pointing it toward Aerick’s chest.

"Aerick Windmere. I, Baron Ethan Goldenveil, challenge you to a duel by the ancient traditions of this land! Let us have mercy on these men and settle this matter between ourselves!"

Aerick clenched his teeth, resignation and pain pressing against his chest. He glanced back for a moment, watching his wife step out from the mansion.

His eyes filled with murderous intent. He drew his sword and leaped from the wall.

His heavy body landed about ten meters from Ethan, the impact raising a cloud of dust around his boots.

"I accept your duel."

The two men took up combat stances, and then, with an explosion of power, charged forward.

Ethan didn’t hold back.

He activated the Burning Blood body enhancement technique and the lost Crimson Blade technique at the same time, his body turning into a golden blur as he triggered the Golden Steps.

He might possess terrifying power for his own level, but Aerick was at level eighty and far more experienced.

Ethan couldn’t falter. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

Aerick, who had been confident until then, couldn’t help but feel startled by Ethan’s speed. His eyes widened as he raised his blade in defense.

The two blades clashed in the air with a piercing metallic clang, sparks spitting between the edges.

Aerick’s icy blue aura collided with Ethan’s golden aura, which now made the young man look like a true angel of war.

The air between them exploded in a shockwave, a gust of wind forcing the low grass surrounding Windmere to flutter violently.

They remained locked like that for a brief moment before separating.

Ethan stepped back only twice.

Aerick, on the other hand, slid more than five steps backward. His steel greaves tore into the ground, leaving deep, muddy trenches in their wake.

His arms trembled from the tremendous force, a tingling sensation crawling up his shoulders and settling at the base of his neck.

He clenched his teeth and forced every muscle not to falter.

With a glint of murderous intent, he returned to the attack with full force.

Three strands of bluish aura wrapped around the tip of his blade as he lunged toward Ethan.

The strands shifted shape, transforming into sharp needles that sought out the unprotected parts of Ethan’s body.

The handsome young man sensed the danger of the ability, stepping back and leaving two aura slashes behind.

Still, a single needle reached him, sinking into his shoulder and nearly piercing the steel of his armor before disintegrating into tiny fragments of light.

Aerick, who had dodged one of the aura slashes and defended against the other, panted heavily.

The gash left by Ethan’s attack, which he had narrowly dodged, still cast a glowing golden mark beside him.