Development

Mark Dukedom.

This was the territory of Grand Duke Marcus, the northern duke.

Inside Grayfish Castle.

A gloomy atmosphere spread like a low-pressure front.

Grand Duke Marcus, ruler of the dukedom, had recently been injured when a boar rammed into him during a hunt. He was now at death's door.

This left his retainers deeply uneasy, while several of his sons with the power to contend for succession grew restless, constantly clashing behind the scenes.

Although they had entered the Imperial Era, the development of various technologies—especially medicine—was far from complete. Many doctors knew only a little herbalism and relied on a few inherited remedies that happened to fit certain ailments. They were helpless against countless diseases, not to mention the quacks who knew nothing but bloodletting.

And the duke's condition was grave. He had already reached his final moments.

After all, not everyone could become a powerful Hyperstring Warrior. And even if they did, they could at most strengthen themselves; they could not heal others.

Night.

Inside the sickroom.

The old duke woke up and shook the bell by his bedside.

The maid outside seemed to have fallen asleep and did not respond.

"Damn it... Someone, come..."

Marcus struggled to shout, but his voice was no louder than a mosquito's buzz.

Those who had never reached this point could never understand such helplessness—a despair as deep as the Abyss.

"The lion king has grown old... Have they all gone to flatter the new lion?"

Marcus muttered softly, a powerful unease rising within him.

It was as if the whole world had forgotten him, tossing him into some corner like trash.

"No... You can't treat me like this... I'm still the duke..."

He muttered to himself, and two streams of tears rolled down his face.

Whoosh!

Suddenly, a breeze