Father

Ronan led Moriel up the hillside, through jungles, wheat fields, and several small villages, until they finally saw a gray castle perched on a low mountain cliff beside a stream covered with fallen leaves.

The closer Ronan got to this place "in his memory," the more clearly he could sense the inexplicable throbbing coming from the depths of his soul.

Many strange yet familiar images kept surging from the depths of his mind, like old seashells buried deep under the beach and washed up by the waves. Ronan was in a delicate state at all times.

Seemingly sensing Ronan's change of heart, Moriel unusually refrained from speaking to him, remaining silent throughout.

The two rode their horses up the mountain along the gravel path. As they passed through a sparse thicket of bushes, Ronan caught a faint smell of blood in the wind.

"Looks like you've come back just in time."

Moriel gripped the reins, sniffed softly, and said lazily to Ronan.

Ronan nodded. "Logically speaking, we should have encountered the guards on duty when we were at the bottom of the mountain."

He spread his mental energy outwards and quickly took in the situation at the top of the mountain.

Ronan's face did not show much emotion; instead, he gently touched his chest with a slightly strange expression.

Regarding how to resolve the issue of different souls merging within the body, the sorceress Evaqu suggested trying to resolve the unfinished obsessions of her previous incarnation.

So Ronan wanted to go home, but he never knew what his predecessor, "Ronan," was obsessed with.

It was only at this moment that he finally gained some insight.

"You can take your time... I'll go up and take a look first."

Ronan lowered his hand, said something calmly to Moriel, and then vanished silently from his slowly pacing horse.

Moriel yawned boredly, looking listless.

Beneath the massive, towering ancient castle, the thick, [Protection] gates stood wide open.

In an open space in front of the castle, a large group of fully armed guards surrounded several foreign enemies who had suddenly invaded the castle, but their numerical advantage did not bring these poor guards any sense of security.

The enemy they were besieging was exceptionally fierce. The battle had continued until now, and the ground was littered with cold corpses and wounded soldiers groaning in pain.

"Tear—"

Among the surrounded men, a towering figure, over two meters tall and clad in half-body armor, suddenly cleaved an unfortunate guard in two with a single blow of his heavy sword. He then wiped the blood splattered on his face, laughed loudly in one direction, and shouted:

"My dear Earl Daimien, do you know who wants your life?"

"Who is it?!"

On the outermost edge of the battle group, a short, stout middle-aged man in fine clothes, tightly guarded by several knights, couldn't help but step forward upon hearing the voice. His face was grim as he replied, "Nate? Or Laniv? Whoever sent you, I'm willing to pay double!"

No, no, no.

The burly man in the black tower shook his head, raised his hand, and swung his sword, unleashing a crescent-shaped white shockwave. He replied, "The person who commissioned us is named Dick. Dick Brook!"

The short, stout middle-aged man frowned deeply. "I don't know this person at all."

"Of course you won't remember him, because he was just a poor, alcoholic blacksmith with mediocre skills. Compared to Your Excellency, Earl, he was just a bug hiding in a damp, dark corner."

The burly man from the Black Tower grinned, a mocking look on his blood-stained, ferocious face. "Five years ago you stole his wife, and now he's paying a copper coin to have us take your head."

Upon hearing the words of the burly man from the black tower, the short, stout middle-aged man's expression changed rapidly, and then he shouted angrily, "Bullshit! I bought it! I gave him a full two thousand Gold Coin!"

The burly man from the Black Tower narrowed his eyes, about to speak, when a thin figure shrouded in a black robe behind him snorted coldly and said in a forceful tone, "Alright, enough nonsense! Hurry up and finish this."

Surprisingly, the powerful and arrogant Black Tower man showed no dissatisfaction with the black-robed man's commanding tone. Instead, he nodded obediently and shut his mouth, as if the black-robed man was the true leader of their small team.

With a forward step and a horizontal slash, he cut down the three guards in front of him, armor and weapons alike. Blood gushed out like it was free. The guards who were not yet completely dead lay on the ground screaming in agony, their internal organs rolling out from beneath them.

At this moment, two figures clad in silver knight armor, who had been following the short, stout middle-aged man, rushed into the battle.

Both were quite powerful, their swords radiating the light of battle aura, and each of them was almost as strong as the burly man from the Black Tower.

The arrival of the two men instantly scattered the small group of intruders, and the surrounding guards rushed forward, seemingly changing the course of the battle.

However, at that moment, the black-robed man who had previously given the order to the burly man in the black tower let out a soft hum.

He pulled a gleaming medicine bottle from under his black robe and casually smashed it on the ground.

"Bang—"

A thick cloud of smoke quickly rose up, forming a small green mushroom cloud in the field.

Immediately afterward, the man in the black robe chanted a strange and difficult incantation, and a gust of wind suddenly rose up, directly blowing away the mushroom cloud-shaped smoke.

In an instant, all the guards around him, except for the burly man from the Black Tower and his men, who had been blown by the green smoke, fell down in rows like wheat being harvested, their faces turning ashen and foaming at the mouth as they frantically convulsed.

Only two silver-armored knights who joined the battle later retained some mobility and were staggering as they tried to retreat.

The man in black robes simply raised his hand, and as if by magic, two fireballs the size of ping-pong balls shot out from under his robes, striking the two silver-armored knights in the blink of an eye.

The silver-armored knights struck by the fireball instantly turned into burning figures. Before they could even scream, the burly man from the Black Tower rushed up and, with a single sword strike, severed the heads of both of them.

"A sorcerer?!"

The short, stout middle-aged man who witnessed this scene from afar widened his eyes instantly, staring at the black-robed figure in the center of the arena, who exuded a mysterious aura, his face showing utter shock.

"As expected of nobles, they certainly have extensive knowledge..."

The burly man from the Black Tower chuckled, carrying his greatsword as he slowly walked towards the short, stout middle-aged man, a hint of coldness in his eyes.

"Don't kill him yet!"

The black-robed man, who had completely turned the tide of battle with a flick of his wrist, spoke coldly behind the burly man in the Black Tower: "Make him spit out all his treasures, and what are you standing there for? Hurry up and go in to search!"

"Clear."

The burly man in the black tower and the rest of the squad seemed to be extremely afraid of the man in black robes, and they all nodded respectfully.

Apart from the burly man from the Black Tower, the rest of the team slipped into the castle, where a panicked woman's screams immediately rang out.

The short, stout middle-aged man finally recovered from his shock. Looking at the burly man from the Black Tower slowly approaching him with a greatsword, a hint of despair appeared in the man's eyes. He forced himself to look at the man in black robes and gritted his teeth, saying, "I can give you all the wealth I have accumulated, but please don't touch my family!"

"My dear Earl, you have no right to bargain with us now."

The man in black robes didn't speak, but the burly man in black towers who had already approached sneered and reached out his large hand to grab the short, fat middle-aged man.

Just as he was about to grab the man's collar, suddenly, the burly man's hand stopped moving.

He suddenly felt as if the air around him had become incredibly thick in an instant, and even the light in front of him seemed to distort.

The burly man was covered in sweat, his muscles tense, and he tried his best to move his body. But even though he tried until his face turned red and the veins on his neck bulged, he still couldn't move even a little finger.

He cast a pleading look toward the man in black robes, only to discover that the man in black robes, whom he had always thought was too powerful to be defeated and was on a completely different level from them, was now kneeling on the ground, trembling and facing one direction.

Suddenly, the mysterious force binding the burly man in the black tower disappeared.

Immediately following, an extremely blinding light shone down from above.

The burly man in the black tower looked up blankly, and at that moment he seemed to see an incomparably blazing sun rising slowly above the ancient castle.

A calm voice rang in the ears of the burly man in the black tower.

The voice said softly, "It's been a long time, Father. I'm back."

The next moment.

The burly man from the Black Tower watched as the "sun" slowly descended into the arena, its countless rays transforming into a handsome young man.

He walked past the black-robed man who was kowtowing to the ground, past himself, and straight up to the short, stout middle-aged man.

The latter's expression first changed to astonishment, then shock, disbelief, and finally to boundless excitement and ecstasy.

He reached out to touch the young man's cheek, but withdrew his hand halfway, his lips trembling as he murmured, "Ronan... Ronan, my dearest son... you've finally returned."

Ronan stood quietly in the open space in front of the castle, watching the crowd silently and busily cleaning up the battlefield.

The relatives of the Daimien Family all came out of the castle at this time.

Together with his father, Felesha Daimien, they stood a dozen meters away, watching him with a variety of complex expressions.

But no one dared to come up and greet him.

Including Felesha Daimien himself.

Ronan felt as if something was slowly dissolving within his soul.

The process is magical and indescribable, like a jigsaw puzzle with missing pieces being pieced together, or like wrinkles on a piece of silk being gently smoothed Character Panel.

Ronan saw that the progress in the strength column was increasing rapidly at a steady pace.

In just a few breaths, it rose from 65% to 69%, and only slowed down after breaking through 70%.

Within the Consciousness Space, the seventh Spiritual Power Crystal was also rapidly reaching completion, and the prototype of the eighth crystal was appearing.

But the real improvement was not limited to this. Although he could not detect it, Ronan had a strong intuition that his soul aptitude had improved, some impurities within his soul had been removed, and some thorns on the final path from the mist to the Dawn had been cleared away, making it smoother.

"To gain the respect and recognition of my family, especially my father, Felesha Daimien."

Ronan pondered all of this, lost in thought.

This can be considered the first obsession he captured in the predecessor "Ronan".

It was quite a coincidence, really. He even wanted to thank the group of "robbers" who happened to be there to invade the Damien family. If it weren't for them, his obsession wouldn't have been achieved so smoothly and perfectly.

"Ronan".

A hesitant voice, tinged with a hint of nervousness, rang in Ronan's ears.

Ronan turned around and saw his father, Ferresher, standing in front of him, looking awkwardly attentive yet hesitant.

"Father."

Ronan's repeated call of "Father" seemed to ease some of Felesha Earl's tension.

He took a deep breath and then quickly began to speak to Ronan.