Chapter 4
Tap. Tap.
A spacious room.
An elderly man leaned back into a soft leather chair, observing the garden bathed in moonlight.
He was the current Duke’s uncle and the senior patriarch who had overseen the previous Duke’s affairs.
Herald Ater.
Having been informed by a young knight about the incident that had occurred at the dining hall earlier, he tapped his armrest lightly, his face unable to conceal his bewilderment.
“…So, that rascal actually threw his glove at the youngest prince?”
Ater’s disgrace.
Despite inheriting the two most noble bloodlines of the Duke family and the Imperial family, he was a heretic who had received not a shred of the goddess’s blessing.
This troublemaker, despised by not only the family but also the knights, soldiers, and even the lowliest servants, had finally caused a commotion.
“Yes. He requested a duel to be held a month from now.”
Rascal.
Eric Ater’s incompetence was notorious beyond the northern lands ruled by the Ater family, spreading across the entire empire.
Many had existed before him who received no blessings from the goddess, but none among the nobility—especially from the imperial bloodline—had ever been so flawed.
A month… just a month.
A person’s limits are determined by how much blessing from the goddess they have.
Depending on how much divine favor one is born with, one could spend a lifetime and still remain an ordinary person, or by merely imitating others, reach mastery.
A raw recruit could surpass a seasoned mercenary hardened by years on the battlefield.
No matter how incompetent, he should know the difference between himself and the youngest…
Those lacking blessings are forced into a life of obsolescence.
They take on tasks no one else wants and are treated with scorn rather than respect.
And someone completely without the goddess’s favor? That’s a hopeless case.
Beyond mediocrity or dullness, they were talentless.
No matter how much effort they put in, nothing improves; their treatment is obvious.
This was especially true in the North, where everything had to be proven by one’s own skill.
Could there be some ulterior motive?
And yet, this utterly incompetent person had dared to pick a fight with the youngest prince.
Though he was no match for the firstborn, who was expected to carry the family’s glory, he had confronted a child prodigy of the Ater family, born with the goddess’s abundant blessing.
“How… should I send someone again?”
Herald, puzzled by such unfathomable behavior, let out a low groan when a knight cautiously asked for his opinion.
Under normal circumstances, he would have ignored it, but this time it unnerved him.
A week ago, for reasons unknown, the rascal—who had never held a sword in his life—had managed to grab a guard.
“…Enough. He already failed once. Trying again would only get him caught.”
Even if incompetent, he was the legitimate bloodline of the family.
If he acted openly during this commotion, even the former patriarch would not escape responsibility.
The reason the current patriarch had postponed any attempt to assassinate him was precisely because of that bloodline.
“Then…”
“Investigate the rascal’s recent movements thoroughly.”
What should he do?
Closing his eyes and contemplating, Herald finally spoke.
No matter what scheme the rascal had, he couldn’t pull off anything reckless in front of everyone.
No matter how he killed the guard, if the duel were fair, the youngest prince would not lose.
Though less experienced than the firstborn, he was already strong enough to handle two or three average knights.
“Check if he met anyone outside. If there’s anything suspicious.”
Then his task was clear.
He had to monitor the rascal to ensure the duel proceeded properly and prevent him from causing trouble.
And then persuade the patriarch that the duel should continue.
“Every move he makes. All of it.”
For the sake of the family and the stability of the empire, the succession could not be delayed any longer.
Whoosh.
Three days after Eric threw the glove at the youngest prince and requested the duel, he was already in the training ground early in the morning, silently swinging a wooden sword at a scarecrow in the corner.
“Ninety-eight… ninety-nine…”
Whoosh.
“…One hundred!”
Smash!
Moving his arms with sheer willpower, he struck the dummy a hundred times.
“Ugh… huff…”
Leaning against the wall, soaked in sweat, Eric closed his eyes, dizzy from his poor stamina and overexertion.
“Look at him… still at it.”
“Throwing a glove at the prince after all that, and still floundering like this?”
The surrounding knights snickered and spoke as they watched him struggle, swallowing the bitterness rising within.
“Has it been ten days already since he started this? By now, he should have gained some stamina. Still, he hasn’t improved much.”
“Incompetence is just that—no matter what he does, it changes nothing. Pity, though. If only he’d had even a little blessing from the goddess, he wouldn’t be struggling so.”
“Pity, my foot! Look at all the trouble he’s caused. Picking up a sword now won’t make any difference!”
Not everyone in the training ground looked down on Eric.
At first, all eyes were scornful, but gradually, some began to see him differently.
Even if it was only pity.
Well, at least their gaze has changed a bit. That means there’s a chance for change.
After a short rest, Eric picked up the sword again.
Even for a prince of the Ater family, training alongside knights and soldiers was customary.
The reason he endured constant scolding and persisted in training was clear.
He had to become the heir to survive this hellish difficulty.
And to do that, he needed to win over the knights who formed the backbone of the family.
And it’s not like there’s no benefit either.
Whoosh.
Ignoring the murmuring knights, Eric swung at the scarecrow again.
In Protect Humanity, level was crucial, but growing stronger was not impossible.
Relentless effort beyond his current limits—repeating tasks that made his heart pound and muscles scream—could gradually raise his stats.
Though the increase is tiny compared to leveling up… but I can’t afford to be picky right now.
Ding!
[Your body has adapted to its current limits.]
[Stamina increased by 1.]
“Huff… whew…”
Hours passed as he continued his lonely battle under watchful eyes.
When the cheerful notification appeared, Eric clenched his fist in triumph.
Finally!
Eric Ater
Level: -99
Strength [1]
Agility [1]
Stamina [2]
Mana [1]
After ten days of relentless effort, his stamina had only increased to 2.
Others started with a baseline of 5 in each stat, and he had managed only a single increase.
But it was enough for now.
Though small, doubling his stamina compared to before felt like a huge improvement.
Still, it’s too early to celebrate. I need to increase at least one more stat before the duel.
Crack.
Joy was fleeting. Eric checked his stats and immediately resumed training.
Whoosh.
With increased stamina, swinging the sword felt noticeably easier.
Though stats had improved faster than expected, doubling stamina again would require twice the effort.
Such training works only early on, when stats are low. Increasing them becomes progressively harder.
Whoosh… buzz…
“Three seventy-eight! Three seventy-nine!”
Hours passed. By the time it was meal time, the training ground was empty, leaving him alone to push his limits.
Ding!
“…Huh?”
Checking the notification, Eric froze at its unexpected content.
[You have faced the limit of your stamina over a short period.]
[Acquired Trait: <Indomitable>.]
A trait so rare that few heroes ever obtained it.
<Indomitable>
Once per day, when taking damage exceeding maximum health, survive in a near-death state.
Reduces stamina consumption from training and combat.
It was an S-rank trait, previously unattainable, now bestowed upon him.
