An Invitation To War

Richard didn’t know how long he’d stood there, but he was suddenly struck by the thought that he should leave. Before heading out from the family tombs, he swept across the name of each and every enemy in his heart; since he was starting to awaken his truename, it was time to demand some interest.

He walked out of the study, having a servant deliver new clothes before looking in the mirror. This skin-tight outfit was cut by a master’s hand, possessing almost no unnecessary decorations but so well-fitting it outlined his perfect figure. He took an ivory comb from the servant’s hands, carefully grooming his hair until not a single strand was out of place. He then hung Extinction at his waist, instructing, “Have Fuschia wait for me at the teleportation gate.”

Fuschia could instantly tell something was different about him when they met, although she couldn’t clearly tell what that was. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“To take a look at the Schumpeter family.”

……

When Richard walked out of the teleportation temple with a shocked Fuschia in tow, he found Nyris and Agamemnon already waiting there. Behind them was a group of good friends in tow; the young men and women didn’t know why they were gathered together, but at the sight of Richard they immediately realised something was going to happen and grew excited.

They truly were young, at an age where the only thing they feared was a dull life.

Nyris went up to him at first sight, “Richard! What’s so good that you gathered us in such a hurry?”

Richard smiled lightly, “Is taking a spin on the Schumpeter island good enough?”

The Fourth Prince’s eyes lit up, immediately eager for action, “We’re picking a fight? That’s great! They’ve been an eyesore for a long time!” Nyris immediately realised how inappropriate those words were, quickly glancing at Agamemnon for confirmation. Only after seeing a silent nod did he relax.

Richard took note of it, but he pretended not to see anything as he continued to smile and headed for the teleportation hall for island 7-7.

Two Schumpeter guards were stood before the entrance of the transfer hall with their chests puffed out, full of grandeur. Their family held the lowest status of the lot, so they had to rely on pomp and ferocity to make up for their lack of status.

The moment the two warriors saw Richard’s group walking towards them, they were dumbfounded. Every Schumpeter recognised Gaton’s son, but even if they didn’t want him to pass they also recognised the number of wealthy and respectable nobles following alongside him. Sometimes, the younger generation of a wealthy family was much more dangerous to offend than its elders.

The guards looked at each other with long faces, having to force themselves to take a step forward and block Richard’s path, “Stop there, this is Schumpeter territory. You cannot continue without permission!”

“I’m looking for Dario,” Richard said indifferently, “Move! I don’t want to kill ants.”

The moment his gaze swept across the two stout warriors, they immediately felt a chill encompassing their very beings. They took two steps back by instinct, opening up the path to the transfer circle. Richard led the way, with Nyris, Agamemnon, and the dozens of young nobles swarming behind in excitement.

The teleportation gate on island 7-7 flickered with light and dozens of silhouettes appeared at once, scaring the guards out of their wits. Seeing the clothing of the incoming people, these soldiers didn’t dare to block them as they were shoved aside by the noble youths. The group then poured towards the island’s square, looking at Richard as they awaited further developments.

Richard smiled a little, taking a few large steps towards the centre of the square before looking at the dozen or so Schumpeters in his surroundings, “I am Richard.

“Richard Archeron.” Richard had spoken in a normal tone, but amplified by magic his voice boomed loudly across the island. 

Archeron… Archeron… Archeron…

 The name echoed endlessly.

Duke Dario was currently in a small lounge, the lapel of his snow-white shirt stained by red wine. He pushed away a panicked maid and rushed towards the castle walls without even bothering to clean up, wanting to see what exactly was going on.

In a hidden training field, a doll-like girl with long black hair was waving a long whip to continuously strike the body of a metal puppet a few metres away. The tender beauty’s whip was as nimble as her finger, leaving line after line on the dummy, but the moment the echo was heard her hand trembled and the tip of the whip left a deep notch in the puppet’s torso. The fourteen lines of a poem she had been writing with her lashes had been completely ruined, but she immediately threw down the weapon and ran towards the source of the sound. However, in stark contrast to the Duke’s horror, her small face was filled with a peculiar excitement.

There were elders all over the island, all dressed in luxurious clothes. Some were resting, others having their afternoon tea or appreciating antiques, and there was even one whose back was being massaged by beautiful maids. No matter what they were doing, they immediately jolted in surprise once the echo reached them, running for a place where they could get a view of the square.

Schumpeters swarmed towards Richard’s position, going from the initial dozen to twenty, forty, sixty… There were people everywhere in the blink of an eye; in the square, on the balconies of nearby buildings, and some peering through windows.

Richard was very patient, waiting until enough people had arrived before flashing a terrifying smile, “You lot will do well to recognise me, and recognise me well.”

This sentence contained an indescribable tyranny that caused every Schumpeter’s face to warp. The blood of the youths behind Richard immediately started to surge. However, it was Richard’s next sentence that left the Schumpeters’ boiling with rage, “You rats should have been cleaned off this island long ago!”

A few of the young and hot-headed Schumpeters cursed madly, itching to tear Richard apart. However, without an elder’s orders, they didn’t dare to take action. The Schumpeters now had a delicate status, relying entirely on the Mensas to eke out the last dregs of their existence. Although the families that were trying to take their place were beaten back, even more were eyeing them without end. Now on the brink of disasters, all of the Schumpeters had learnt to keep a low profile and not stir up any incidents. 

The Dragon forbid their actions provoke Duke Mensa’s dissatisfaction…

A mere level 14 mage had stolen the voice of all the Schumpeter elders in their own home. 

“Your Highness Nyris, Lord Agamemnon, are you also here to become enemies of the Schumpeters?” an aged voice rang out from the top floor of the castle. Duke Dario showed himself on the balcony, the blood-red wine stain particularly eye-catching.

“We’re just here to visit!” Nyris said loudly, “Don’t hesitate to do what you want, imagine I’m not here at all.”

Richard ignored the conversation between Nyris and the Duke, drawing extinction from behind his back and burying it in the ground, “You lot should recognise this sword, no? The Schumpeter family treasure, the legendary Extinction? If it’s in my hands, you should know what happened to its previous owner.”

The Schumpeters went into an uproar, hating that their eyes could not shoot fire. The angrier they grew, the more languid and charming Richard’s smile became. He caressed the sword’s hint as though he was stroking Sinclair’s face.

“Oi!” he suddenly pointed his free left hand at all the Schumpeters, “If you want this back, come find me in the Forest Plane. I heard you still have saints, but I want to see how many men you can send to the battlefield!”

This was a thunderous roar, and an indisputable challenge. However, it was met by a sweet and melodious voice, “We Schumpeter women can defeat you as well!”

Richard looked to the side to find a strange and beautiful girl; black hair, red eyes, snow-white skin, picturesque brows… She looked very similar to Sinclair, but their dispositions were black and white.

“Sisley?”

“That’s right!”

Richard cast a detection spell on her without restraint before squinting, sizing up her build and saying without enthusiasm, “I advise you send someone else. Someone like her… No matter how many you send, it will be pointless.”

Sisley grew furious, her brows furrowing as she suddenly closed in on Richard like a ghost. A dark dagger had appeared in her hand at some point in time, ruthlessly stabbing towards Richard's chest! Sisley was already level 16, this surprise attack quick and deadly. Although it wasn’t aimed directly at Richard’s heart, if it struck true he would be left with a serious injury.

Nyris was instantly enraged. If this was the response to Richard’s challenge, for a melee fighter to attack a spellcaster was absolutely unfair. His hand went for his sword instantly, but he was held down by Agamemnon.

The scene left him stunned. He saw Richard take a simple step backwards, perfectly avoiding the pounce and using the opportunity to pull Extinction from the ground. The blade sprung up without warning, slicing towards Sisley’s lower body.

This attack came from a strange angle, too close and quick for Sisley to properly defend herself. It was as though she had voluntarily thrown herself onto the blade. Still, her response was quite quick; the tip of her feet touched the ground and her body seemed to be nailed to the floor, stopping all forward momentum in a flash.

However, Extinction fell back down immediately, as though the first attack hadn’t used any strength at all.

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