CHAPTER 22: ALL ROADS LEAD TO EVIL.

The sound of heavy breathing echoed through the room.

Aric sat in one corner, his back against the wall, chest heaving as sweat rolled down his face. His silver hair clung to his forehead, almost covering the gray of his eyes.

The soft glow of system panels dimly illuminated his features as he stared at the screens with a faint smile. He had trained for hours on end, and though exhausted, he was satisfied with the result.

[Muscle Burst has been learned]

[Ki Fists has been learned]

They were basic skills, and perhaps the difficulty he faced in mastering them—even with the system’s remarkably helpful method—made Aric realize he was no martial arts genius.

He turned his hands over, gazing at his palms. In his last life, he had trained day and night without pause once his illness was healed. His hands then had been rough, calloused, and peeling from endless sword swings until his muscles burned at even the slightest movement. Compared to that, this training was far easier.

Although he had learned two techniques, he decided the remaining two could wait. Not because of fatigue, but because he lacked the time—he had to depart.

[Would you like to delete the two copied skills?]

"Yes," Aric replied.

[Copied skills deleted]

The guide had explained that deleting copied skills freed up slots for new ones. Though he considered returning to the martial vault, he dismissed the idea—nothing of worth remained in the basic section he was allowed.

I’ll need to find better manuals elsewhere.

Aric pushed himself to his feet. Today, he would leave the imperial city—and the estate where he had spent his entire life—stepping straight into the unknown. Well, not entirely unknown. He knew much about the Byzeth Kingdom, especially its future.

Knowledge he fully intended to use in his capture of the kingdom.

Stretching his arms overhead, he twisted his body to loosen his muscles.

"Alright, Father. Let’s see what this ’gift’ of yours really is."

———

The night was moonless. The wind whispered through the silence, its whistle the only disturbance in the darkness—at least across the wide lands of Aric’s estate.

From the manor, the fourth prince emerged, clad in a plain cloak, chosen to avoid attention... at least until attention became necessary. Aric walked with steady confidence, an air of certainty replacing the frailty of the sickly boy he once was.

He no longer required a cane, nor did the system issue him exercise sub-quests. His body was now far stronger than an ordinary human’s. Yet his illness had left marks. His health and stamina capped at 70—barely half the human average, according to the guide.

It meant that while he could endure more damage than most non-martial artists, when he was injured his health fell more quickly. Worse, his stamina failed faster, and his ki flow remained stunted. The illness was still a glaring weakness.

Aric stopped before the carriage. It was modest, hardly befitting a prince, but that was the point. This journey was meant to be unremarkable. He had also chosen to depart at night—once beyond the imperial city, his brothers would have far more freedom to strike against him.

"Everything is prepared, Your Highness," Meholt reported. He stood beside Zahai, while Ren, the youngest guard, sat up front with the hired driver.

Aric had trusted only Ren to accompany him.

"Good. Take care of the estate until I return."

"Certainly, Your Highness," both guards bowed as Aric stepped into the carriage and closed the door behind him.

Inside, Serina and Lerai were already seated. Lerai sat at the opposite door, Serina across from Aric. Though far from luxurious, the carriage’s interior was roomy enough to allow them comfort.

Soon, the groan of wooden wheels against cobblestones and the clop of horses’ hooves signaled their departure. From the estate, they would travel through the imperial city, then follow Ezra’s Path until reaching Byzeth’s outskirts.

"How long will it take to get there?" Lerai asked, more curious than concerned.

"The driver said two to three days, depending on our stops," Aric replied.

"Three days?" Lerai’s eyes widened.

"Calm down. That’s not long," Serina countered.

Their conversation faded into background noise as Aric gazed out the window. In recent days, he had mulled over his father’s words and the quest before him.

Overthrowing the kingdom was no longer a choice but a necessity imposed by the system. Even if he wanted peace, he could not pursue it.

As for his father’s intentions, Aric suspected they aligned. Thinking back to the "Wind and the Mountain" story, perhaps the emperor wished for him to achieve victory not through raw power but through strategy.

If the emperor had meant for Aric to conquer Byzeth from the start, then perhaps becoming the first prince to seize a kingdom without imperial aid was the "gift" Xavier spoke of.

’What are you planning, Father?’