Suddenly, something began to change. Sensing danger, faint rough dark scales started surfacing on Modret's hand.
His skin hardened instantly, and a deadly aura radiated from him, causing the air around him to distort slightly.
Modret was stunned. His eyes widened in shock, unable to comprehend what was happening.
The next moment, as though moving on instinct, he slapped toward the snake lunging at him.
The snake, which had leapt at him, seemed to have frozen in fear, staring at Modret with a look of horror as though sensing something terrifying.
It wasn't given a chance to realize what that dreadful feeling was, as the next moment Modret's chubby hands, now covered in scales, struck the snake.
It burst apart into a gore of flesh and blood, splattering across the bed.
The sight was overwhelming.
With the danger settled, the aura began to recede into Modret's body, and at the same time, the scales on his skin started fading away.
Modret was still in disbelief at what had just happened. Due to the overdrain of his strength on his mortal body, Modret slowly fell asleep, a wave of fatigue washing over him. However, the next moment, his eyes widened in alarm—just as he drifted into unconsciousness.
[gained 10 shadow fragments.]
'Shadow fragments… so this is how to obtain shadow… fragments?'
…
Time passed slowly; however, the Axarel Branch Manor was far from calm. An hour later, Anna came to check up on her son and saw his bloodied hands, along with the blood and gore splattered around. Her heart was filled with shock, thinking she had lost her precious son.
Fortunately, that wasn't the case. Despite that, it couldn't hide the fact that someone had tried to assassinate Modret—and he had killed the creature with his bare hands.
She quickly rushed to her husband, telling him everything that had transpired. When he heard the full story, Donald was stunned.
"You're saying someone tried to have Modret killed, but he managed to kill the creature by himself and emerge unscathed?" he asked to confirm.
Anna nodded, pointing out the clues and evidence littered around his hands—and the scales in her hand.
Donald found it hard to believe what he was hearing. Taking a moment to collect himself, he calmed his breathing, then turned to his wife, his muscular frame trembling faintly.
"Could it be that our son has awakened subconsciously?" he asked curiously. In this world, there were similar cases—albeit rare—where children awakened early, though none as young as Modret. Still, the fact couldn't be denied.
"I think so. However, we can't be certain of anything unless we inform the priest of the main household. But that would mean drawing our son fully into the squabbles of the royal family," Anna said, worry flickering across her face.
Donald noticed his wife's worry and comforted her. "Don't worry, wife. I want our son to grow up and have a happy childhood too. Let's keep this a secret for now. There's no need to inform the main family."
After comforting her, a glint passed through his eyes, and a chill emitted from him. He turned his gaze slightly to the distance and said in a cold tone,
"We should focus on the matter at hand. Someone dared to try and eliminate my son—me, Donald, the King of Ten Thousand Swords! How dare they?" His voice echoed and rumbled like thunder, shaking the entire household and startling everyone awake.
The maids, guards, and servants immediately felt that something was wrong and quickly rushed toward Donald's residence.
Donald calmly walked out of his house as he sensed the gathered maids and servants. As he strode out, the servants subconsciously glanced at his calm exterior, their hearts skipping a beat.
They could tell something was wrong, though they couldn't quite tell what had happened.
"Oracle!" Donald called out softly, and a lady stepped from the midst of the gathered servants. In every royal branch family, there was an oracle specialized in detecting lies. Using this oracle was one of the ways the royal household had managed to stay clear of spies.
The frail lady, with pale green hair cascading over her face and slightly obscuring her beauty, walked forward and raised her gaze to glance at Donald. Seeing his expression, her brows—hidden beneath her hair—furrowed slightly.
"Please ask the question, Your Highness," she said, then turned toward the crowd of servants gathered in neat rows.
Having been trained from a young age, they knew how to stand respectfully in the presence of their lords. Because of this, the crowd was already gathered in perfect, symmetrical rows the moment they were called.
Donald glanced at them, then said in a deep voice,
"Which of you planned to assassinate my son?"
The moment his voice faded, disbelief surfaced on the faces of the servants.
Someone actually dared to assassinate the young master? They found it hard to believe. What kind of guts did one need to do something like that?
Donald frowned, noting the looks of disbelief etched on their faces. That wasn't what he was looking for—he wanted answers.
… and he would get them.
"Answer me!" his voice thundered slightly, reverberating in the servants' minds.
At the same time, the faint hum of a sword began resounding in the surroundings. Some of the servants, who had heard the legends of Donald—the King of Ten Thousand Swords—broke out in cold sweat.
They didn't dare delay their replies, afraid for their lives.
"Master, it wasn't me."
"Master, I didn't do it…"
"Master, I would never do such a thing!" The servants' voices spread, and Donald glanced closely at them, noting down every one who spoke.
When everyone had finished, he turned his attention toward the oracle.
Her hair still cascaded over her face, but her eyes—emitting a faint green hue—glowed brightly under the moonlit sky.
She moved her gaze over the crowd as though scrutinizing them thoroughly. After a tense silence, with some of the servants already trembling faintly, she turned toward Donald and gradually… shook her head.
"It wasn't any of them," she said in a low tone, her mana slightly exhausted. Using her B-grade ability on such a large crowd was draining.
Donald's face scrunched into a frown.
"Then just who is targeting my son?!"
.
.
To be continued...