The Path Chosen

The old man could still recall the scene from a year ago.

At that time, much like the start of the current semester, he had stood in the Clock Tower office, watching a stream of vibrant students enter through the main gate.

He harbored a faint hope, knowing that the Campbell heir would soon join the academy. He yearned to see a young man as brilliant and radiant as the ‘Lion King’ himself, once again shining brightly within these very halls.

And so, when the golden-haired youth, surrounded by a retinue of maids and alighting from a griffin-drawn carriage, appeared in his sight, a profound disappointment settled within him.

With just a single glance, he had discerned the kind of person that boy was.

He was no different from the typical noble scions that perpetually filled this academy: arrogant, conceited, looking down on all, reeking of money, and full of the affected airs peculiar to the nobility.

His mind, however, was utterly barren.

Later, the Campbell scion’s actions only served to confirm his initial judgment.

If he were to describe it in a single idiom, it would be ‘mud that cannot be plastered onto a wall’—utterly beyond redemption.

After his attempts at correction proved futile, he had already given up.

Yet, he never expected this.

Professor Planck cast a glance at the current Ewan. In the end, it was he who had been mistaken.

****

“So, Father was really that formidable during his academy days?”

Having listened to Professor Planck’s account of his father, Ewan exclaimed with a touch of surprise.

He had always believed the rumors that the Campbell lineage consisted entirely of ultimate, reckless brutes.

“Recklessness backed by strength is called valor and decisiveness. Recklessness without strength is mere imprudence,” Professor Planck explained slowly, seemingly seeing through Ewan’s thoughts. “Fortunately, the successive Dukes of Campbell have never lacked strength.”

“Is that so?” Ewan scratched his head.

It made sense.

A man capable of firmly holding the ducal position, securing an imperial marriage contract between his son and the princess, and even now commanding the border armies, could not possibly be a mere brute.

Still…

Could such an exceptional man truly be blinded by excessive love, to the point of raising his own son to be useless?

‘Parents,’ he mused.

Ewan couldn’t help but sigh with emotion.

“So, Professor Planck, you don’t dislike me because I only learned one Illumination Spell last semester?”

Ewan pressed further.

*Click*.

No sooner had Ewan finished speaking than Professor Planck’s figure stiffened abruptly.

“Of course not. How could I possibly dislike you over such a trivial matter? After all, I was well-prepared for the Campbell family’s magical aptitude and talent.”

Professor Planck’s tone remained flat, seemingly unperturbed.

“Your excellent father, too, only ever failed the magic subject. The only proper spell he ever learned was one that could make flowers bloom at will, which he mastered solely to pursue your mother.”

“Really? It seems Father was a magic idiot too, hahaha…”

“Even he only took two weeks to learn the Illumination Spell.”

Professor Planck turned back, his expression blank, his voice deep.

He shifted his grip on his cane slightly, revealing clear indentations from his fingers.

“Incidentally, it only took me three days to teach my cat that same spell.”

‘He says he doesn’t dislike me, but it feels like he’s ready to beat me to death with that cane at any moment!’

Ewan felt a giant ‘DANGER’ sign hovering above his head. He began to ponder which posture for begging for mercy would be most appropriate for a duke’s son, should Professor Planck actually decide to cane him to death right here.

“However… I admit, you have indeed changed, Ewan Campbell.”

In the end, Professor Planck did nothing. He merely let out a soft sigh, then turned and continued deeper into the passage.

“To be able to raise your scores in Basic Magic Theory to this extent within a month, I believe that for you, the Campbell family’s curse of being poor in magic can easily be broken.

You might truly surpass your father and become the most outstanding Duke of Campbell in history.”

“That’s a bit too much praise,” Ewan said, slightly embarrassed, having not expected Professor Planck to commend him so suddenly.

“Is it? I used to be certain, but ever since witnessing your change, I’ve started to doubt my own aging eyes.

However…”

Professor Planck’s tone suddenly shifted. “I never imagined, Ewan Campbell, that you would make such a decision.”

“Hm?”

A question mark appeared above Ewan’s head as he looked at Professor Planck’s retreating back, confused.

Then he realized. Was Professor Planck referring to… Teacher Mera?

“The path that Mentor Meradomir pursues, though I don’t know all the details, I am certain it is not a bright and easy road.

At least for you, Ewan Campbell, a duke’s son with boundless prospects, it is not a path worth choosing.”

Professor Planck continued, “You should have better, more stable options. If you desire strength, the Campbell family’s legacy is by no means weak. You merely need to proceed steadily, step by step. Even if you still score only three points in Basic Magic Theory, your future achievements as a warrior, breaking through to the Coronation rank and becoming a Crowned One, are practically guaranteed.

Even if you dislike the Campbell family’s reputation for being brutes, as a duke’s son, your resources and starting point far exceed those of ordinary people. Simply applying the same tenacity and effort you showed in reaching an excellent standard within a month, you would achieve great things on any other path.

Yet, you seem remarkably urgent, so urgent that it makes one curious…”

Professor Planck turned back again, a hint of inquiry in his aged but still sharp eyes. “As the heir to the Campbell family, a future pillar of the Empire, and even the companion to Her Royal Highness the Princess, Ewan Campbell, what exactly are you afraid of?”

“I…”

Faced with Professor Planck’s question, Ewan silently opened his mouth.

What was he afraid of?

It was nothing more than the word ‘fate.’

If he could, he wouldn’t want to strive so desperately. He, too, wished to walk toward a bright future, step by step, marrying the person he loved amidst the chiming of church bells and scattered rose petals.

He also wished to be an unremarkable duke’s son, to take over when his father grew old or retired, inherit the Campbell legacy, and live out his life under the legendary Campbell surname.

He wanted to live.

He wanted to be happy.

It was that simple.

But fate would not allow it.

Fate would not permit him, this blonde villain, to exist within the original story’s trajectory.

He was supposed to die, not just once, but multiple times.

And what he faced was not something the name ‘Campbell’ alone could resolve.

The prophetic dream hung over his neck like a blade, urging him to press forward.

Therefore, he could only choose a dangerous path.

Even if that path also led to a future shrouded in mist.

He had to try, to try with all his might,

—to defy fate.

“It seems you have made your decision.”

Professor Planck watched Ewan, seeing the molten passion and fire flowing in his eyes, before withdrawing his gaze.

“Since that is the case, I will ask no more. Even as your teacher, the final choice, after all, belongs to you.”

Professor Planck raised his hand and pressed it upon a precise instrument.

With a rumble of steel, a massive doorway, seemingly leading directly to the sky, slowly opened before Ewan.

Dazzling light poured from the door into Ewan’s dark surroundings, causing him to squint, unable to clearly see the path ahead.

“Go on,” Professor Planck said. “Mentor Meradomir is waiting for you, Ewan Campbell.”

[WEB] 54. A Meeting Gift

“Yo, young man, you’ve arrived.”

Amidst a vibrant sea of flowers, the white-haired, red-eyed loli-like girl seemed to have just woken up, still dressed in the pink pajamas Ewan had first seen her in.

She held a small, cute pink watering can, tending to the flowers. As Ewan approached, her amber-clear red eyes showed a hint of satisfaction.

“You did very well.”

She said, “Far better than I imagined. Such an achievement is rare even in my long years.”

“Teacher Mera…”

Looking at her, Ewan was momentarily at a loss for words, his hands and feet feeling out of place. He could only manage a dry, “Long time no see.”

Meradomir smiled. “No need to be nervous. You are now my disciple, Meradomir’s disciple. At any time, facing anyone, you have the right to hold your head high.”

“Is that so?”

His nervousness slightly receding, Ewan scratched his head again and asked, “Does that mean I’m your disciple now? Do I need to prepare anything? A gift for apprenticeship? Or are there any specific rituals? Should my address change?”

“Let’s skip those formalities,” Meradomir replied, after a moment’s thought. “As for the address, just call me Teacher Mera. I prefer it.”

“Then…”

Ewan still bowed solemnly. “Please guide me from now on, Teacher Mera.”

“Mm, I will.”

Meradomir calmly accepted Ewan’s bow, then snapped her fingers casually. With a flash of light, a silver-white box appeared before Ewan.

“Take it. This is my gift to you, as a token of our first meeting.”

“A gift?”

Ewan’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected Teacher Mera to be so kind, giving him a gift right after his apprenticeship.

Since it was offered directly to him, there was no reason not to accept it.

Ewan happily picked up the box, examining it from left to right, even tapping it with his hand. “What’s inside?” he asked curiously.

“Open it and you’ll see,” Meradomir smiled. “I think you’ll like it.”

With Teacher Mera saying so, Ewan’s anticipation grew even stronger.

He quickly found the latch on the box and pressed it firmly. With a whirring sound of gears, the silver-white box sprang open with a *creak*.

A sharp aura and sacred light instantly assailed him, causing Ewan’s breath to catch for a moment.

Blades. Short blades.

Two pure white short blades, intricately carved with golden patterns, lay quietly within the box. They seemed to possess life, humming softly the moment the box opened.

Ewan also heard a heartbeat.

His own heartbeat.

For the instant he saw the two short blades, his heart couldn’t help but race.

It was as if he felt a resonance with the blades.

“This is…”

Ewan felt his throat dry up as he looked at Teacher Mera.

“I haven’t had time to name them yet. I thought it would be better for you to name them,” Teacher Mera said softly. “I saw you fighting earlier and noticed you seemed to lack suitable weapons, so I crafted these for you.”

“Teacher Mera…”

More than just liking them, Ewan was practically moved to tears.

Though Teacher Mera casually mentioned crafting them, looking at the exquisite appearance of the two short blades and the profound aura they inadvertently exuded, they had to be at least Gold-tier Legendary weapons.

She truly was a powerhouse; anything she casually tossed out could stun him.

However…

Ewan blinked, then asked curiously, “Given that these are such niche weapons, aren’t you worried I might fail the exam, Teacher Mera, making them a wasted effort?”

“Unlike that boy Planck, I have absolute faith in my judgment,” Meradomir glanced at Ewan, seemingly indifferently. “If I thought you couldn’t do it, I wouldn’t have wasted my time seeking you out.”

“I see…”

Ewan said with a hint of realization, “I feel like I’ve unconsciously been given a lot of expectations.”

“Since you know, why aren’t you working harder?” Meradomir said. “Want to try the blades?”

“Yes!”

Ewan reached out and grasped the hilts of the two short blades.

In that instant, he felt a sharp sting in his palms, as if something keen had sliced open his flesh.

Warm blood instantly spread along the patterns on the short blades.

The gold turned dark red, making even the sacred aura emanating from them appear somewhat sinister.

But this lasted only for a very short time.

The next moment, the short blades let out a piercing hum, and a golden light erupted fiercely.

Ewan felt that the blades, which had previously felt as light as paper, now gained substance, and their weight was perfectly balanced, like an extension of his own arms.

In a trance, he seemed to hear emotions of joy radiating from within the blades.

“It seems she is very fond of you,” Meradomir said, stroking her smooth chin. “There are living spirits within the blades. Now that she has acknowledged you, it means that no one else can use this weapon until you die.”

“How incredible…”

Ewan exclaimed with genuine admiration.

Having read the original book, he naturally knew how rare weapons with living spirits were in this world.

He hadn’t expected Teacher Mera to casually hand him one.

Overwhelmed with joy, Ewan swung a blade fiercely.

Instantly, as if a bolt of lightning had struck, a faint, ink-like charred afterimage appeared in the void.

“Based on your fighting style, the primary characteristic I’ve imbued these two blades with is sharpness,” Meradomir stated. “Extreme sharpness. Few defenses in the world can resist it. For someone like you who relies on agility to win, I believe this will be more helpful than any flashy functions.

Furthermore, when these two blades collide, they can activate a powerful Alchemy Domain.”

“Alchemy Domain?”

Ewan’s eyes lit up. Without hesitation, he clashed the blades together.

*Zheng—*

The blades resonated.

Silver-white electric arcs spread along the golden patterns, forming a special area around Ewan, a few meters in radius, as if forged from molten metal.

“The effect of the Alchemy Domain is… to repel all external objects.”

Meradomir casually picked up a flower and tossed it towards the domain around Ewan. The pristine white blossom, the instant it touched the edge of the domain, turned to ash as if incinerated by a great fire.

“But in reality, this effect is not strong.”

Meradomir extended her fair, slender hand into the domain. The silver-white electric arcs swirled around her hand like ripples in water.

“Anyone with slightly stronger physical prowess can forcefully enter this domain, and weapons are no exception. But the domain itself is not for defense. After all, if I were to specifically add defensive functions to short blades, why wouldn’t I just give you a shield?

So, rather than tangible objects like enemies or weapons, this domain targets invisible, intangible things.

Curses, poisonous gases, negative effects, mental attacks, and the like.

And most importantly, it can isolate inside from outside.

Which means…”

Meradomir looked into Ewan’s eyes and spoke each word clearly, “When the domain is activated, you can use the Flame of the Withering King without any reservations.”