NOVEL WEB
Chapter 5: Right Under Your Nose
[I am Narh Di Maug.]
A sword lay fallen on the ground, and Narh Di Maug extended his hand toward Karyl, who was sitting dejectedly. That was Karyl’s first encounter with him—the first dragon ever to exist.
Karyl was only fifteen when the Oracle War broke out. More shocking than the dragon's presence was the realization that they had already met once before—just once.
Narh Di Maug had visited the MacGovern residence, yet his true identity remained unknown to all. Not even Kuwell MacGovern, who had crossed swords with him, knew who he was.
[I was just a little curious,] Narh Di Maug reflected. [Among those hailed as the three strongest on the continent, including your father, I wondered who was truly the strongest. They would never face each other directly; they hid behind talks of politics and other things like that... So, I sought them out myself,]
The term “three strongest of the continent” was an honor bestowed upon the three individuals who had reached the pinnacle of swordsmanship, magic, and martial arts. One of them was Kuwell MacGovern, the epitome of swordsmanship.
“So?” Karyl prompted.
[Frankly, it was disappointing. He was said to be at the apex among the existing five Sword Masters.] Narh Di Maug critiqued sharply.
“Was it that much of a letdown?” Karyl responded to his assessment.
[It was a pity, but he was far too old. He seemed perfect, but in fact, his swordsmanship was not yet perfect. Had he been younger, his achievements would have been different,] Narh Di Maug mused.
“What about me?” Karyl asked Narh Di Maug. Their first meeting had been none other than a sword fight.
[Impressive. Frankly, I did not think a human could wield a sword with such skill. Considering your age... soon you'll surpass your father,] admitted Narh Di Maug. Dragons, though greedy, never lied. [But it truly is a pity, you are also far too old.]
“What do you mean?” Karyl inquired.
[If you had been a little younger... no, if your father had introduced you to me when you were young. It would have been laughable to even compare you to the other three strongest,] Narh Di Maug said, shrugging slightly. [Well, it was foolish of me to hide my identity in the first place.]
“Why would that matter?” Karyl pressed.
[Magical power,] Narh Di Maug said.
“Stop teasing me. I'm a barbarian from a northern tribe. Coveting something I can't ever have is pointless. I've overcome opponents with magical power using my own strength,” Karyl said, making a bitter face at those words.
[That's not what I meant.]
“Then?” Karyl prodded.
[If you, a child of the MacGovern family... could have had a chance at metamorphosis...]
Karyl opened his eyes, wondering if the commotion he had caused was keeping him awake. Unable to sleep, he rose from his bed and gazed out the window.
By tomorrow, Mother will hear about Martte's defeat.
She would likely summon him, if only to confront the rude barbarian in person. It was all part of the plan; he needed to meet her.
Our first encounter won't be pleasant.
He had yet to meet her, and he knew that opportunities to do so in the future would be scarce.
Unlike Father, Mother never showed affection toward the adopted sons. In her eyes, we must have seemed like threats to her own child's position.
Isabelle Aesir, the wife of Kuwell MacGovern, was the second daughter of a minor family from the east. It was unexpected for a daughter from such a modest family to form an alliance with the MacGoverns, although there was a time when her family held significant prestige.
Now all she has left is the old library in the mansion.
Karyl drew back the curtain and looked at the small building in the distance. Long abandoned and neglected, it emanated an eerie aura, a place avoided by all his brothers. It represented the solitary path to magical power.
That is the only way to obtain magical power.
At that moment, the words of Narh Di Maug echoed in his mind, and a smile slowly appeared on his face.
Metamorphosis.
To obtain a new body was his goal. The old saying went, “Right under your nose,” but who would have imagined?
The method I was seeking was right there, hidden in plain sight.
***
"Magic? The boy said he wanted to learn magic?" Isabelle asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.
"Yes, and frankly, it surprised me," Kuwell responded, his tone reflecting a mix of surprise and contemplation.
"How peculiar. A child from a northern tribe, with no magical blood, wants to study magic. What could he be plotting?"
Kuwell chuckled wryly at Isabelle's comment as she adjusted his attire. She often took over the duties of the maids when he returned home, asserting her presence beyond merely fulfilling her role as a wife.
"Don't be too prejudiced, my dear. He's merely a twelve-year-old boy."
“But you must realize how disrespectful his words are. What he is saying is nothing short of mocking the citizens of the empire," Isabelle remarked, her unease evident.
She had initially been displeased when Kuwell brought adopted sons from across the continent but had come to understand his reasons. Their backgrounds ranged from fallen nobility to a merchant's son, even a child abandoned in a monastery... Each had a unique past but they all shared the trait of being exceptional.
This understanding had helped Isabelle accept them, believing they could help her own son, Martte MacGovern, increase the power of their family. But this case was different. Karyl was a child of a barbaric tribe, a potential liability, and a threat to their household.
"Must we really take such measures?" Isabelle questioned.
"He's more than just a barbarian child. Remember, he is Karliak's son," Kuwell interjected, halting her protest. "You haven't forgotten that we are indebted to him, have you?"
"It's not that... just..." Isabelle hesitated, the label “heretics” echoed in her mind. "I’m not sure what to think."
"Don't worry, my dear. He is from a barbarian tribe, so he lacks the capability to learn magic. We're merely extending a courtesy to an old friend by indulging his request," Kuwell reassured her, his tone gentle yet firm.
However, Isabelle felt uneasy at Kuwell's reference to Karliak as an “old friend.”
"Don't worry," Kuwell said, comforting her with a calm expression, oblivious to the brewing storm ahead.
***
The meal was quiet.
It was the first time everyone had gathered for a meal since Karyl's arrival. In the hall, only the light clinks of spoons against bowls echoed, underlining the unusually solemn atmosphere.
"Who taught you to use cutlery like that, Karyl? You handle it quite well," Isabelle broke the silence, her shining green eyes scrutinizing him.
"I learned just a little...from books," Karyl mumbled, his head bowed. As he spoke with his spoon upside down, the remaining soup dripped down his hand. She smiled at his clumsy attempt and nodded. That was enough; being too perfect might have drawn her ire.
There's still something I want to obtain, he thought, seeing no need to provoke her displeasure prematurely.
"You’re quite skilled for someone who never had proper instruction. I heard from the count that you want to study magic?" Isabelle inquired.
Her words caused the brothers at the table to look at Karyl in shock.
What? Magic?
Can a barbarian even learn magic?
He's completely lost it...
What's he plotting now?
Anger and suspicion filled their gazes.
"I don't want to learn it; I just want to know about it," Karyl responded, maintaining his composure amidst their reactions.
"Why would you want that?" Isabelle pressed, her expression remaining unchanged.
But Karyl knew her intentions better than anyone. It was a test. His answers would dictate how he was treated, but it wasn’t Isabelle who judged that answer.
The decision is up to Father.
Karyl knew the answer he wanted. Ironically, he had heard it directly from him in his previous life.
[Do you remember? When I first saw you, you were like a wild beast,] Narh Di Maug said.
“Was I really like a beast?” Karyl asked.
[Of course, you fought with your brothers every day until you turned fifteen. If the Oracle War hadn't happened and you hadn’t been called to the battlefield... you would have continued.]
“I'm sorry,” Karyl responded.
[No, don’t be. You were rude and rough, but you were truly Karliak's son then. I would have been disappointed if you had given up that spirit. And now you're also a son of MacGovern.]
Karyl was eighteen years old when he first surpassed Kuwell. He remembered that moment distinctly.
I know why Father acknowledged me.