Wolf left Wayde outside Shield City. The future Duke protested, saying he should be there when they reconquered his duchy, but Wolf wouldn’t hear it. An Archmage could squish Wayde like an ant, a bona fide True-Namer could crush thousands of him.

Wolf’s body dissipated, turning into mist and he stormed towards the ducal palace. Shield City was closer to the border than Silver City, and humans developed it into a fortress, ready to withstand violent clashes with the elves. Even the palace complex had military air, so it was more accurate to label it a castle.

The citadel stood atop a hill, protected from three sides by sheer cliffs. Wolf examined the bastion looming over the city and admired the artistry of its bulwarks while floating in his gaseous form.

There wasn’t a rock on those walls without at least one verdant crimson or silvery-blue rune. Wolf gazed at the bluish runes with misty eyes. Dad scribed those. He inwardly smiled as images of his time together with Archibald flashed before his eyes. He remembered his lessons and the strict standards his father had on Wolf’s rune-scribing. The young man long since realized there was no need to copy Archibald’s art and that different calligraphies existed, but he still modeled his runes after what he had learned in that nameless cave.

Another thing he recalled from then were Archibald’s instructions on how to bypass these defensive runes. Wolf landed. After turning solid, he took out a palm-sized disk from his Ring of Holding.

Wolf could’ve bypassed these formations using his own ability, but entering with his father’s seal of Northshield’s Court Mage felt right. A small lump of copper turned these impregnable defenses impotent.

Veiled by Undetectable, Wolf passed the guards and reached the innermost part of the citadel, just outside the Northshield family’s mansion.

“Who dares break into the Duke’s abode?” A deep, enraged voice infused with Soul Force echoed within the fortified flower garden.

“Wolf Hillman!” Wolf shouted back with pride.

He dismissed Undetectable, and smiled, a great weight and a heavy chain weighing his soul loosened. He was giddy. Finally, after waiting for a decade, he would take the head of his father’s murderer.

“I come to seek justice on my late father’s behalf! Northshield and dogs following the bastard, get your asses out here to face judgment,” Wolf thundered. At least half the Nobles’ district heard him.

He wanted to curse them more, but stopped himself. His statement could enter history books. Wolf didn’t want his son to consider him a thug, cursing his enemies instead of killing them in the name of justice.

“I can’t believe His Excellency worried over someone as foolish.” The voice quieted enough for its words not to echo outside the courtyard. “Who do you think you are, boy? The Emperor? You’re just a hatchling True-Namer without even a decade’s worth of training.”

Following those words, two Mages and a shapely woman with a long scar marring her face walked into the garden, maintaining a triangular formation.

Wolf focused on her, recognizing her as the Sword-Sage Wayde mentioned. Internal Energy whirls inside her body like a hurricane.

Thanks to his experience and trace amounts of Internal Energy from Demon Forest, Wolf vaguely sensed the fire blazing within the scarred woman’s body.

Best pretend she’s reached the Ninth Order. Wolf examined the two elders walking behind her. One was fat and wore a messy beard, the other skinny, cleanly shaven, with an icy glint in his eyes. Wayde’s reports matched names with their figures, and Wolf saw their monikers in Headmaster Smith’s register.

“Madam, Lord of Snow, Lord of Fatigue, you weren’t involved in my father’s death. If you surrender, you may leave.” Wolf spoke coldly. His gaze was steely, his mortal enemy hiding before him. After killing Duke Northshield, Wolf will reduce his list to one man; Darius, the Human Emperor.

The Sword-Sage snorted, enraged by Wolf’s cocky approach. “You’re dead meat, kid. Focus on countering his spells, Torin. Gerald, support me.”

With those words, her legs flared with Internal Energy. Wolf watched with awakened senses as she kicked off the ground, but the motion’s force was nowhere near enough the bursts he made when dashing.

Is she shouting their battle plan aloud, or is she using a code to confuse me? As far as he could tell, Lord of Sloth chanted Warform without hints of subterfuge, while Lord of Snow hurried to cast Counterspell, to prepare for Wolf’s spell.

I guess they are careering straight at me without a plan. Do they take me for a Monster Beast? For a moment Wolf considered uttering his first True Name, but based on what he saw, found these people unworthy. They couldn’t harm him.

Book appeared in his hand, and he dashed, seemingly accepting the scarred Sword-Sage’s frontal contest of power. Seeing him shoot forward, the Sword-Sage increased her speed. But when they were two meters away, Wolf pivoted, beelining towards Lord of Sloth. He exploded with speed, unleashing his full might.

Gerald’s eyes went wide. With his senses fully awakened, he watched Wolf dance around Hilda. In the dilated flow of time, Wolf trudged towards him, raising a rusty sword for what seemed like hours. Faced with death, Gerald started swallowing and sent a surge of Soul Force into the charm around his neck.

Come on! Come on! A Soul Force membrane sprang around him with disgusting slowness, blocking Wolf’s blow at the last possible moment. The man gazed at the rust-specked blade and saw a set of runes flash.

Book slammed into the shell, its Internal Energy coating cracked the ward, then punched through it and cleaved Gerald’s head as the man screamed in terror, “I—”.

Hilda sensed Wolf’s focus disappear from her. However, her senses were dozens of times duller than a True-Namer’s. By the time her mind caught up with reality, Wolf disappeared. She dug her heels into the ground, but before she stopped, Gerald’s head soared, spraying blood.

Torin saw the scene the clearest. He’s too quick! He moves faster than a Sword-Sage with Swiftness. Why didn’t his body break apart?

For an eye-blink, he ran simulated scenarios on countering Wolf, then realized it was impossible. In the next instant, he found his path to survival.

“I surre—” Torin started raising his hands, but Book sheared through his fingers, then his neck, sending the elderly True-Namer’s head flying.

Hilda turned around and saw both her allies falling to the ground, dead. Fuck this! I’m here for the money.

She wanted to turn around and flee, but Wolf appeared before her. He swung Book like a butcher’s cleaver, vertically slashing the woman in half before she realized what happened.

“Old bastard Northshield! I put down your dogs!” Wolf infused Soul Force into his voice, spreading it throughout the city. “Come out and die like a man, or do you want me to drag you out and throw you off the citadel walls?”

Duke Northshield didn’t respond. After five seconds of silence, Wolf walked towards the mansion. Inside, he slaughtered three guards and a maid charging towards him before the rest of the household fled.

Ten minutes later, he threw a screaming Duke with soiled pants down the cliff. Wolf stood on the rampart, watching the loathsome gray-haired elder’s terrified face tumble down before he smashed into the rocks below and became minced meat.

Hollow. I feel hollow. I would rather have my father back for two seconds than kill this bastard a hundred times over. This entire event left Wolf with a disgusting taste in his mouth. This is the glorious moment I dreamed of? I experienced greater joy fighting Demonic Beasts and struggling to stay alive than I felt killing this pig.

Wolf finally understood how empty revenge was. It only bred hatred. Luckily, he had another person to hate.

“Sucker’s game, huh?” he muttered, recalling his father’s letter while watching the gore strewn on the distant rock below. I guess it is, if you’re wasting time and effort obsessing about it. Not so much if you do it when it’s convenient.

Wolf wanted to spit on Duke Northshield’s remains, but held back. He drew a deep breath and sighed. I have better things to do.

He cleared his throat out of habit, then spoke from the cliff, infusing his voice with Soul Force and Internal Energy to boom like thunder.

“Hear me, Northshield dukedom and Shield city! Grandson of the true Duke of Northshield, Wayde Northshield, the rightful heir to the throne, is back! In accordance with the Imperial law, he will assume his grandfather’s title. Long live the Duke!”

Contrary to Wolf’s expectations, nobody cheered. Downtrodden didn’t cry in relief or joy. For them, the only change was the Duke’s name. If there was something they were grateful for, it’s that a bloody civil war didn’t follow this coup. Both the minced meat at the cliff’s base and Wayde were descendants of Wayde’s great grandfather. To commoners, both were rightful Dukes.

The story was different in noble households. Wayde would elevate those suppressed because of their loyalty to the main Northshield lineage. The majority, which took a neutral stance in the coup, will keep their positions, just like they did decades ago. Lastly, those who were on the right side for years suddenly found themselves traitors and criminals.