The Protective Sword for a Sister and the "Brother-in-Law's" Resistance

As Leon dragged his almost broken body, staggering back to the main building, feeling every muscle scream and wishing he could instantly turn into a puddle of mud and collapse on his bed, a figure as upright as a pine tree, exuding clear displeasure, blocked his path at the top of the stairs like a precisely set obstacle.

The person was Victor Windsor. He was wearing a perfectly tailored, dark blue Knight's casual attire that accentuated his upright posture. The simple yet subtly gleaming sword at his waist silently announced his owner's strength and status. He was two years older than Leon, taller and more robust, with broad, powerful shoulders honed by rigorous training. His handsome face was etched with the ruggedness characteristic of a soldier, and a hint of undisguised sternness directed solely at Leon. His dark brown hair was impeccably neat, and his light brown eyes were sharp as knives, locked onto Leon's disheveled figure as if intending to dissect him from the inside out.

Leon inwardly cursed his luck. Every part of his body ached, even lifting his leg felt difficult, and his brain buzzed from extreme fatigue. He simply didn't have the energy to deal with this "almost brother-in-law" who had always given him "special attention." Fragments of memories surfaced: Victor was upright, valued family honor and his sister Elisa's happiness above all else, and detested the original Leon, with his notorious reputation, as a "fiancé." He had repeatedly tried to admonish or even severely discipline Leon as an elder brother, but the original Leon, a slippery character, would always retort with a smirk, saying things like, "Elisa doesn't mind me, why are you worrying?" or "Once I marry her, you'll be my brother-in-law, so stop bossing me around!" Such infuriating words would always leave Victor's face ashen, yet he could do nothing due to Leon's special status (son of Hohenzollern, nephew of Count Margaret).

"Leon." Victor's voice was low, suppressing evident displeasure. His gaze swept over Leon's sweat-soaked, dust-covered, and almost unstable appearance. "Where have you been messing around again? To get yourself into such a state?" He deliberately emphasized the word "messing around," clearly believing Leon's disheveled state was not from any legitimate activity.

"Victor... Cousin." Leon forced a smile, deliberately using a slightly distant address, trying to slip by. His voice was hoarse from exhaustion. "Just... finished training, overdid it a bit. I'm going up to rest now." He tried to sidestep, aiming to squeeze past Victor.

Victor remained motionless. Instead, he took a small step forward, completely blocking the path. He let out a cold snort, his tone laced with sarcasm that was almost tangible. "Training? With Captain Hans? Hmph, it seems Marquis Otto has finally decided to rein you in. However, with your current state, looking like you'd fall over in a gust of wind, and that pathetic bit of Battle Qi, even the strictest training will likely be a waste of time for you, just draining Captain Hans's patience." He didn't believe Leon would genuinely commit to strenuous training, assuming it was just another form of perfunctory effort or a temporary forced measure.

A surge of inexplicable anger instantly flared in Leon's heart, but his extreme physical exhaustion felt like heavy shackles, draining even the strength to argue. He could only weakly retort, "Hey, Victor, whether I train or not is my business... Captain Hans didn't say anything..."

"It's not your business?" Victor interrupted abruptly, his voice suddenly rising, the suppressed rage erupting. "Elisa is my sister! You have a written engagement with her! Every action you take directly affects her reputation and the honor of our Windsor family! Look at yourself now, what kind of behavior is this? You're either indulging in gambling dens and taverns all day or causing trouble everywhere! The fine from the city hall for you drunkenly breaking the railing of the magic fountain in the central plaza last time only arrived at the Windsor residence a few days ago! Do you know how people outside are talking about Elisa? Saying she... it's simply unbearable to hear!"

He abruptly stopped speaking, but the humiliation and anger on his face, stemming from his sister's disgrace, were so intense they were almost overflowing. One could imagine how much criticism and strange glances the usually aloof Elisa had endured behind the scenes due to Leon's continuous absurd actions.

Leon opened his mouth, wanting to argue, but found his words so pale. Everything Victor accused him of were the sins committed by the original Leon. Now, this heavy burden had been squarely placed on his shoulders. He had inherited the identity, and he would inevitably inherit all the consequences.

Seeing Leon speechless, his face showing a rare silence (which Victor perhaps mistook for guilt), Victor thought his words had finally had some effect. His tone softened slightly, but the admonishing intent grew stronger. "Leon, you're eighteen years old now! You're not a child! Elisa will be eighteen next month, and according to the agreement between our families, the formal engagement ceremony should be put on the agenda! Look at yourself, in what way are you worthy of her? If you have even half a thought for her, or for your future together, you should completely settle down, diligently hone your martial skills with Captain Hans, or at least calm down and read a few books, learn some proper noble etiquette! Instead of mingling with Fili and his gang of hangers-on all day, bringing shame upon both our families!"

Although these words were sharp and harsh, peeling away the angry shell revealed an underlying sentiment of "disappointment in someone you expected better from." If it were the old Leon, hearing such a lecture, he would have already jumped up and retorted, driving the other person away with even more rascally remarks.

But Leon, utterly exhausted both physically and mentally, captured a trace of the deepest care for his sister hidden beneath Victor's fierce scolding. He remained silent for a moment, not reacting with the immediate defiance programmed into the original Leon. Instead, he lowered his gaze and said softly, "...I understand. I'll be mindful."

This unexpected, almost submissive response, made Victor freeze abruptly. The subsequent string of reprimands he had prepared got stuck in his throat, neither coming out nor going down. He scrutinized Leon suspiciously, trying to find any trace of pretense or sarcasm on his exhausted face. However, he only saw a near-numb calm and an undeniable, deep-seated weariness.

"You..." Victor was momentarily speechless, unsure how to respond. This completely unexpected reaction disrupted his rhythm.

Just then, a clear, pleasant voice drifted from the top of the stairs, breaking the strange stalemate. "Brother?"

Both looked up simultaneously and saw Elisa standing at the turn of the second-floor staircase. She seemed to have just finished meditating or reading, still wearing her light blue Magic Apprentice Robe. Her silver-white hair was neatly tied back as always, and her violet eyes were calm and undisturbed. Her gaze swept lightly over the two confronting each other below.

"Elisa." Victor's stern expression instantly melted upon seeing his sister. His eyes softened, even showing a hint of undisguised affection. "I came to find you about something." He glared at Leon warningly again, then lowered his voice and said quickly, "Remember what you said! Behave yourself!" He then ignored Leon and quickly walked up the stairs to Elisa's side.

"What is it, Brother?" Elisa's gaze briefly flickered over Leon, who was leaning on the banister, barely able to stand upright, looking haggard. She didn't linger, turning her attention back to Victor.

Victor took a small, delicately tied jewelry box from his pocket and handed it to Elisa, his tone becoming gentle and cheerful. "Next month is your birthday. This is a gift I prepared for you in advance. See if you like it?"

Elisa took the box, her fingertips deftly untying the ribbon and opening the lid. On the velvet lining lay an exquisitely crafted silver necklace. The pendant was a perfectly cut, flawless amethyst, crystal clear, shimmering with a captivating halo that echoed Elisa's eye color under the light.

"It's beautiful, thank you, Brother." A faint, but genuine smile appeared on Elisa's face. Though fleeting, it was enough to soften Victor's stern gaze completely, filling him with a sense of accomplishment.

"I'm glad you like it." Victor smiled, then regained some seriousness. "Also, Father asked me to inquire if you have any particular friends you'd like to invite to your birthday banquet? The family will arrange everything, but your wishes are most important."

The siblings began conversing softly on the stairs, discussing the details of the birthday banquet, as if Leon below had become completely invisible.

Leon watched the scene silently. Victor's heartfelt affection and protection for Elisa, and Elisa's natural trust and closeness with her brother, formed a harmonious and warm picture. This was a normal, enviable familial relationship. In contrast, he, the "fiancé," was undoubtedly a stain that tarnished this perfect picture in Victor's eyes, an unstable factor that needed to be removed. And the relationship between him and Elisa, maintained by the engagement and "sleep needs," seemed so fragile and pale at this moment.

He didn't speak, just gritted his teeth, driving his almost striking body with sheer willpower, step by heavy, slow step, up the stairs. As he passed Victor and Elisa, he could clearly feel Victor's lingering gaze, still filled with warning and scrutiny. Elisa, however, merely glanced at him with her deep violet eyes as he passed. Her expression was calm and unreadable, devoid of any discernible emotion, and she then continued to focus on her conversation with her brother.

Leon didn't stop, nor did he look back. He walked straight to his room at the end of the corridor. He opened the door, closed it behind him, and leaned heavily against the cool wood, finally allowing himself to relax completely. He let out a long, ragged sigh that sounded like a pained groan. Every muscle in his body seemed to protest collectively at that moment, the soreness washing over him like a tidal wave.

Victor's appearance was like a cold, clear mirror, ruthlessly reflecting his current awkward, even pathetic, predicament. He was not recognized, not expected, seen as a burden, a symbol of trouble and shame.

But...

Leon raised his slightly trembling arm, looking at the taut muscle lines on his forearm from excessive exertion, feeling the bone-deep soreness as if struck by a heavy hammer.

But today, he had not chosen the original Leon's habitual pattern—arguing, quibbling, escaping. He had silently endured Captain Hans's brutal physical training and swallowed Victor's contemptuous reprimands.

He had chosen silence, chosen endurance.

This was not a cowardly surrender, but a strategy based on a realistic assessment. Before his own strength was sufficient to break through prejudice and change the situation, any pointless conflict or pale excuse would only expose his weakness further, inviting more, fiercer suppression and trouble. He needed time, a hidden corner where he could quietly, desperately accumulate strength.

Victor Windsor... Leon murmured the name in his heart. This future "brother-in-law" was like a drawn sword, shining brightly, protecting Elisa, and simultaneously standing menacingly on the path he was trying to change his destiny. To earn his respect, to change these deep-rooted prejudices, empty words and smirking would be absolutely ineffective. Only strength, real, undeniable power, could shatter all contempt and obstacles.

He struggled to the window and pushed it open, letting the cool night air caress his burning skin. Outside, the lights of the Imperial Capital gradually lit up, outlining a prosperous yet complex silhouette. The physical exhaustion surged like a tide, repeatedly challenging his will, but at this moment, his eyes were clearer and more resolute than ever before.

Elisa's birthday banquet... next month?

Perhaps that would be a small window for observation and display? Although with his current "reputation," he would most likely only play the role of an unwelcome foil, but who could say that beneath the clown's mask, a soul wouldn't be quietly transforming?

The immediate priority was to help this body recover from its extreme exhaustion as quickly as possible. Then, he would continue his secret and arduous dual path of ascent. Captain Hans's training was the anvil for tempering the body and solidifying the foundation. Although painful, it was a necessary ordeal for the current stage. And magic was the sharp blade he intended to quietly hone and hide in the shadows, the key to potentially achieving a breakthrough.

He had to wield both the anvil and the blade, forging himself in pain, growing in silence. The road ahead was fraught with thorns, but he had no other choice but to move forward.