Chapter 26
—Please come, just once. We'll be waiting.
I had received an invitation from Sir Brown. It was a first for me, and I wasn’t quite sure how to handle it.
‘I should probably bring a gift… but what do I know about Sir Brown’s family situation?’
The memories of Louis de Hebron contained no personal information about Sir Brown. He was a loyal knight—that had been enough.
With nothing else to go on, I decided to bring a large bouquet of flowers. I vaguely remembered hearing that he had a wife.
Brown’s home was a short distance from the lord’s manor. It wasn’t far at all, which made me feel all the more guilty for never having visited.
The couple stood waiting for me outside their home.
“It’s an honor to welcome you, Lord Hebron.”
“The honor is mine, madam. I never imagined Sir Brown had hidden such a lovely flower in his home. Had I known, I would’ve brought a more fitting gift.”
I quoted a line straight out of a knight’s romance novel, but I was used to such talk now—I didn’t even blush.
And truth be told, Sir Brown’s wife was beautiful.
She looked to be in her mid-thirties and was rather thin.
The house itself, however, was quite dingy.
If I hadn’t brought flowers, the place might’ve felt downright empty. A single large room held only a bed, a dining table, and three chairs.
Brown offered me a chair that looked hastily cobbled together.
It had a strip of wine-colored leather tacked onto the seat.
“Thank you for accepting our invitation, my lord. I’ve long wanted to serve you a meal.”
“Thank you. This is the first time I’ve ever received such an invitation.”
“My apologies. I should’ve prepared more.”
“No need. Sir Brown, you already do more than enough for me. I’m always grateful.”
The couple looked genuinely moved by my words.
I glanced around the sparse home.
“Is it just the two of you here?”
“Yes, just the two of us living simply.”
“Any children…”
I trailed off as soon as I saw their expressions dim.
Brown was thirty-eight, and his wife looked slightly younger.
It didn’t seem like they were past the age of trying.
“May I… take a look?”
“Pardon?”
“Let me see your hand.”
In the Kingdom of Xenon, royals and nobles tended to disregard medicine. As a result, only folk remedies and oral traditions remained—there were hardly any real doctors or medical texts.
But I had taken a deep interest in medicine.
And when it came to the dragon’s breath, there was no one more knowledgeable than me. I had used my own body to experiment, developing treatments in an effort to resist its toxicity.
My studies had led me to ancient medical texts, and within the borders of Xenon Kingdom, I could confidently call myself the most skilled physician alive.
I took Brown’s wrist in my hand.
In ancient times, physicians would read a person’s health through their pulse. I could imitate the technique, albeit clumsily.
‘Brown’s veins are solid.’
Thanks to the Antaria Aura Cultivation Technique, I could sense his aura as it flowed along the body’s veins. With more time and focus, I could trace its pattern in detail.
But then my brow furrowed. I tilted my head.
“Haven’t you been practicing the Hebron Aura Cultivation Technique?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Then why is your condition like this? The Hebron Aura cultivation Technique shouldn’t leave you this disordered.”
“My apologies. I must lack the talent…”
It seemed Brown had learned the technique improperly. Even though the Hebron Aura Cultivation Technique had degraded over two centuries, it wasn’t so flawed that it would damage a knight’s body.
There were occasional side effects among knights who trained without a proper master. Brown likely fell into that category.
“How long has this been going on?”
“I’m not sure what you mean, my lord.”
I shook my head slowly.
It was clear he hadn’t even realized what condition he was in.
“Do you have a backyard?”
“There’s an open space I use for training.”
“Let’s go.”
I stood up.
The warm stew his wife had just brought out was still steaming on the table.
“Please excuse us for a moment. We’ll eat when we return. But first, I need to fix him.”
“My husband is sick?”
“His insides are in disarray—but don’t worry. I will heal him.”
Lady Brown turned to her husband with a face full of worry.
We stepped out into the open yard. Brown’s home was set apart from the other houses—a small privilege afforded to knights.
“…It might still be possible for you to have a child.”
“What do you mean by that, my lord?”
“I read it in an ancient medical text.”
Brown looked uncertain.
He had no doubt tried everything he could to conceive. The old folk remedies were hardly effective, but people clung to them in desperation.
‘I should have looked into this sooner.’
It was a personal matter, yes—but Brown wasn’t just any man. He was my knight. My swordsmanship teacher.
And he had trained me with tireless sincerity. At times, his effort had seemed almost excessive. Now I understood why.
Brown, without a child of his own, had treated me like a son.
‘I will fix this.’
The veins below Brown’s dantian were completely blocked. Years of practicing an incorrect aura cultivation method had caused parts of the veins in his lower body to harden beyond normal function.
“We need to change your aura cultivation method.”
“What should I do about the technique you taught me before?”
“Forget it.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Brown had practiced the Hebron Aura Cultivation Technique alongside the foundational forms of the Breio Swordsmanship. He had trained in the Hebron method for so long that I never considered teaching him another.
All I had done was slightly modify the technique to suit him better.
“This one is excellent for strengthening the lower body.”
I chose Sardia Maneuvering Footwork.
I had previously taught a modified version of the Hebron technique fused with The Sardia Maneuvering Footwork to the Hebron slave soldiers.
Combined with a variant of the Sardia Maneuvering Footwork, it had made their lower bodies remarkably strong. Even now, those soldiers were in the forests, continuing their strength training.
I modified Sardia Maneuvering Footwork once more and passed it on to Brown. Forcing a new technique onto someone could be dangerous, so I laid a hand on his body and carefully monitored the flow of aura.
“Feel where my fingers are, and guide your aura there.”
Brown said nothing—just gave a slight nod.
‘Good. He’s quick to understand.’
To my relief, Brown picked it up with little difficulty. It helped that the new method didn’t clash with his ingrained Hebron technique.
Before long, he collapsed to the ground, drenched in sweat. As he forced the aura through his body according to my instructions, a foul stench rose around him. Aura had reached veins long dormant, and his body began flushing out the waste that had built up over the years.
‘He’s been carrying a lot of fatigue.’
Along the way, I had cured Brown’s chronic exhaustion.
But that wasn’t the priority right now.
“Focus on your lower half. Your aura’s still not flowing down properly.”
Some of the veins leading from his dantian to his lower body were tightly clogged. They needed to be broken open, even forcibly.
Then again, with the intense stimulation from The Sardia Maneuvering Footwork, that might happen on its own.
And sure enough, Brown was soon sweating like a man stranded in a desert. His clothes clung to him, clearly outlining his muscular frame.
“Don’t give up. This is for your future child.”
I wanted to repay him.
He had cared for me like a son—without him, the talentless Louis de Hebron would never have mastered even the basics.
No—setting aside the personal debt, no one in my life had ever taught me with such unreserved dedication.
I joined him, focusing beside him.
We lost track of time, all our attention fixed on one goal—fully opening the blocked veins below his dantian.
“Huff…!”
Brown suddenly gasped.
After relentless effort, one vein finally burst open. Once that passage cleared, the others followed suit like floodgates releasing.
“T-this feeling—!”
Brown shot to his feet. We had only come for lunch, but now the sky had already begun to darken.
His lower body throbbed with energy, it was embarrassingly lively.
He turned to his wife with a bright smile, while she, eyes brimming with tears, dropped the basket she’d been holding.
Freshly baked bread tumbled to the ground.
I bent down, picked up a piece, and took a bite before turning to her.
“May I examine you as well? Infertility isn’t always just one-sided.”
“Please… I’d be grateful.”
Lady Brown had a cold constitution.
The most effective—if not only—solution was awakening a fire-attributed aura. But she wasn’t a knight.
“Please bring me paper and a pen.”
She returned quickly with them, then ran to her husband and began wiping the sweat from his body with a towel.
While Brown cooled off with a splash of cold water, I wrote out a prescription.
“Boil these herbs and drink one cup in the morning and evening. This is strong medicine—taking more than the prescribed amount could do more harm than good. Stick exactly to the dosage I’ve written.”
“I’ll follow it to the letter, my lord.”
Watching the transformation in her husband, Lady Brown looked at me with unwavering trust.
“Brown.”
“Yes, my lord!”
“You’re on leave for a week.”
The couple clasped hands tightly.
This was as far as I could help them. It was still possible that a child would not come.
The rest was in the hands of God.
I didn’t believe in gods. Never had, not before and not now. But this time, I wanted to pray.
‘If there is a god… please, I beg you—grant this couple a child.’
“Madam, we’ll have to postpone the meal for another time.”
“Please take care, my lord.”
She didn’t try to stop me.
Brown started to call out to me, but was pulled gently back inside by his wife’s hand.
I left that place quickly.
* * *
I had purchased a building in a prime location within the bustling heart of the Zylson Viscounty. It was a modestly sized commercial building that was previously a general store.
Before the interior renovations even began, a large sign was hoisted over the entrance.
—A Masterpiece by a Baron, Hebron.
Beside it, the Hebron crest was proudly displayed, making it easily visible even from afar.
From the windows of the Zylson castle, the sign was faint but visible. The viscount peered outside and muttered.
“So it was true.”
He had been skeptical when I’d said I planned to open a clothing shop in the heart of his viscounty. With all eyes already on Hebron after it took control of the Nurha Barony, other lords were closely watching my next moves.
It was a time when the Hebron Barony was expected to expand by annexing surrounding territories. Even I hadn’t anticipated that my first public move would be opening a clothing shop.
“I had no reason to lie.”
“You and your father continue to surprise me.”
“I hope this will surprise you as well.”
I handed him a long wooden case.
When the lid opened, it revealed a prosthetic leg nestled carefully in a bed of clean rags.
“Is this the leg you spoke of—Baryan’s work?”
“Yes. Just as I explained. If there are any issues, Baryan will make adjustments.”
“I heard he left the capital.”
Viscount Zylson had also visited Baryan.
His younger brother had stubbornly refused to wear a prosthetic leg—but surely, the viscount couldn’t bear to keep watching him fall off horses time and again.
“He came to Hebron.”
