This chapter is brought to you by Regulus by ONEWE.
Edited by: bafflinghaze
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In his studies, Neo sat hunched over his work desk with his pen scribbling madly.
His history essays were subpar, but he was working through them as best as he could.
The spring quarter break ended tomorrow. He had spent the last few days finishing all his assignments and relearning some of the materials in preparation for the Academy.
Rainier entered the room.
"Your coffee, Young Master," the servant brought in another pot of freshly brewed coffee.
"Mm," Neo hummed, absentmindedly holding out a hand to receive the cup.
The cup was inserted into his hand a second later. He robotically took a sip and went back to furiously writing.
From morning to noon to mid-afternoon, the sound of pen to paper could be heard nonstop. The youth sitting behind his work desk was deeply focused on completing weeks' worth of classroom assignments.
Rainier came in every hour to replace the coffee pot.
The clock chimed to three.
Sigh.
Neo stretched out his fingers and tilted his head from side to side.
This body was not used to office work.
Looking at the stack of completed assignments, Neo felt like he could breathe again.
Back in the modern world, his work ethic had always been good. He never developed the habit of procrastination--his parents had been quite anal about turning things in on time, making sure he always finished his work before the due date.
In college, he had been impatient to graduate, so rather than waiting around for the due dates, he studied under professors who allowed students to work at their own pace.
Living a lifetime with such stiff time management nearly gave him an aneurism after looking at all his overdue assignments on his table.
He knew he was a bad student in this lifetime, but he didn't think it was this bad.
It just showed how little he had cared for his own future.
Shaking his head at his own negligence, Neo took a long sip of his coffee, trying to ease his mind.
Tomorrow, he would be going back to Noble Academy.
The spring quarter break was only a week long. He came back a few days into it with no real plans on how he was going to fix the future other than not being a grade-A asshole.
He had developed a list of things to do for the week before going to bed last night.
The most urgent things that required fixing were the assassination attempts.
He would have to go to the slums and call off the assassination he had scheduled for next month. It would have to be a personal visit since the group he'd subscribed to was incredibly private.
After visiting his mummy the other day, he began looking into all the criminal incidents he caused during this time period.
There was a group of people who came into contact with him on his twelfth birthday. They offered him a gift--their aid--but not without a price.
He knew them only as the Syndicate.
That should have been the first red flag.
Neo brought out his personal notes from this lifetime and began piecing together the mystery behind this mysterious organization.
He only found a small remnant of them in the latest history book--and even then, he wasn't sure if the Syndicate was the same group written down in the records.
He found there were branches and leaves. They all stretched from the base of the tree. He wasn't sure which part of it he was supposed to look for.
According to history, during the Lesser Krieg War, the Syndicate were efficient and cruel, starting off as contracted mercenaries to the Empire.
Something happened during the beginning of peacetime after the war and it was said that the group went rogue and fell into the underworld, disappearing into obscurity. Their contact with other individuals was private. No one knew the identities of the other contactors besides the Syndicate--the main tree.
Neo frowned.
Just how well-connected were they to root him out?
Could there be other children connected to the Syndicate as well?
There was a legend in the slums where if you wished upon a star, your wish might come true. Nazareth was too old for wishes, but he thought he might as well try. There should be other lesser fortunate children who also made wishes.
And as long as they were capable, it was likely that the Syndicate would find them.
He could never forget the emerald-like hummingbird flying into his room with a little letter tied to its legs on the day he turned twelve. The sight had been magical.
Nazareth was foolish and took the deal. He didn't question their intentions to work with him. Rumors about his scummy reputation had already run rampant, so he didn't think much of their willingness to cooperate.
It had been supposedly a good exchange. All that the Syndicate desired was his expertise.
For such a conniving kid, he really should have questioned how they came about this information.
In the Red Light District, he was taught healing plants and their uses. In the Manor, he became an expert in poison-making, a creative designer of its delivery. He had memorized and worked with both, experimented with them, and used his knowledge for nefarious reasons.
But it was all in secret.
The only one who knew his capabilities had been his mummy. She had seen something in him. And perhaps his suppliers. He would think they knew something was up with how frequent his visits were.
The Syndicate commissioned him to make the Slave Emblem--him, a twelve-year-old--and in exchange, they would help him kill Aurelion.
He didn't realize how wrong it all sounded.
That was his first mistake.
When all his deeds were exposed to the public, the Syndicate remained unseen and unheard of.
He fell into a pit.
They lost nothing.
He was given a year to complete his commission. The Slave Emblem was an intricate talisman made with one part magic and eight-part poison. The pain of the application was on purpose. It was designed to break and torture the spirit of the emblem's victim.
It required a few specific common healing plants and his own twisted knowledge of healing magic.
He already had a good foundation for creating healing runes. All it took was to strike out a few specific marks and voila! The result was the opposite of anesthesia and numbing cream...
It was one of his greatest creations, but he had damned so many with it.
Neo pulled out another personal journal with dates and numbers.
It notes all the profit he'd made from the Slave Emblem.
At this time, he was currently gaining an income from the purchase of the Slave Emblem--but not by much. The Syndicate had full control of the market sales and he had stupidly given them a copy of the recipe. Even now, it should be a hot commodity for human trafficking.
This realization brought a chill down Neo's spine.
He had completed the emblem at age thirteen and tested the first one on Rainier. The moment he branded Rainier--no, the moment he fell into sin--there was no hope for him to return to the path of good.
He was a vengeful wraith, vindictive and evil. And all of this happened under the nose of this family, who valued family above all else.
His father had once questioned him about Rainier's situation--had trusted him to be the kind child who once had a kind mother.
He took that trust and abused it, knowing how much his father trusted him.
For a Duke, his father was naive.
It was almost unusual, how much his father continued to love him. Never had he made his intentions unknown. Nazareth had never lied. He was the type of crazy bastard who was looking for death.
Aurelion was broken by his actions but he had gotten off with a light punishment every time he was caught.
Just... Why?
Neo couldn't wrap his head around it.
He wasn't worth keeping around. Hell, he would even stab himself with a sword if he knew just what kind of bastard he truly was!
Blood ran thicker than water--but too bad for his father. His bastard was a cold-blooded murderer.
Neo's mind wandered back to the Syndicate.
He would need to go and sever his ties with them.
The Slave Emblem might be the second order of business. He couldn't stop the distribution of the product, but it didn't mean he couldn't figure out how to rework the brand and make an anti-emblem for it.
The credit for the manufacturing of the Slave Emblem had gone to the Syndicate so no one knew he was the one who made it.
Neo suspected that not even Rainier, who had been the first tester, knew he was involved in the emblem's creation.
It would be safer for him if he kept this information a secret.
The youth put the journals back into his desk and sighed heavily, covering his face with his hands.
Toward the end of his life, the emblem was already a well-known creation in the Empire, volatile and ugly. It was believed that whoever had the brand was someone meant to be pitied.
But not at the moment.
Something would happen in two years' time, exposing the emblem to the public.
But again, not yet.
Rainier could still walk around without any consequences–albeit he would get some bewildering stares if the ribbon was ever taken off.
Neo's goal was to finish making the anti-emblem before the event happens.
He left his studies and went to his bedroom.
His bedroom was full of secret compartments. Within them, he stored his tools and stocks.
He searched around and brought out the recipe he had haphazardly shoved into his desk and began digging through the numerous compartments.
The cabinet with a false panel, the third lantern with the fake night pearl, behind the wardrobe--the third shelf, and many other places.
As Neo found all the slightly illegal books and ingredients, he skimmed through the emblem's recipe.
It had detailed instructions and meticulously good handwriting.
He was almost envious of his past self. Compared to his handwriting now, the difference was like night and day.
Residency could do that to you.
He gave an inelegant snort. Clark had it worse than him.
He would need to first remake the emblem in order to reverse engineer the markings.
The best way to go about it was to place the slave emblem on someone and find another person to connect the emblem to. He required a 'Master' of the emblem and a willing participant.
Neo thought about cornflower blue eyes.
Rainier came to his mind...
Nazareth was the Master of Rainier's emblem, though he never used the emblem against him.
But...
He tucked the notes into his pocket.
He couldn't ask the other to be his experimental guinea pig.
The servant had had enough done to him.
However...
Vermillion eyes lit up with an idea.
---
In the dining hall, the Odum family sat down for dinner. The table was set with a variety of foods, but one member was missing.
"Is Nazareth not coming down?" Gareth asked.
It had been five minutes since everyone gathered.
These last few days, Nazareth had been consistently joining them for the evening meals. Gareth had thought he was starting to open up.
Seeing his son's absence, he didn't realize the family table would look so empty.
A family of five was certainly livelier than a family of four, he concluded with absolute certainty.
Hopefully, Nazareth wasn't retreating back into his shell. He hoped the boy would continue joining them for dinner every night.
"Rainier. Go," Vespera ordered, her naturally harsh and commanding voice sounding through the room.
It was her way of telling Rainier to drag Nazareth from his room to join them.
"Don't forget to confirm with him, Rainier. He might as well stay in his room if he has no desire to leave it," Gareth hurriedly added in a cold voice. He didn't want to pressure his eldest. It was better if Nazareth came willingly instead of being forced to.
"Right away, Madam, Master,"
Rainier placed the dish he was carrying on the table and swiftly left, skillfully dodging the oncoming flow of servants coming inside to serve the family.
Guinivere and Aurelion looked at one another.
What in the world just happened?
The four members of the family sat solemnly in icy silence. No one moved.
A few minutes passed.
"Father, is the meal starting yet?" Aurelion suddenly asked.
"Let's wait five more minutes."
"..."
Guinivere called one of the maidservants over. "Can you bring over the steak?"
---
Neo hadn't noticed how late it was.
He was back inside his studies.
In front of him were several of his personal textbooks, piled up so high that even the most hard-working scholar would feel tired at the sight.
There were glass bottles and boxes full of crushed dried herbs, extracts, and toxic oils. Some were volatile poisons, while others could be miraculous cures. None of them were labeled.
He had recreated the Slave Emblem with the last of his limited ingredients. Most of the dangerous ingredients were found in a secret compartment beneath the floor of his bed.
Everyone knew not to expose them to any light during storage.
All his tools looked well kept and cleaned. They were all inside medicine boxes of all shapes and sizes.
The irony.
He measured the last of the Mourning Spider Leaf with a ruler before carefully slicing them into quarters with a plant scalpel. He gently tossed them into his mortar and began grounding them with the other ingredients inside.
His stock of certain poisons became heavily depleted by making this Slave Emblem. He would need more if he was going to test the first draft of the anti-emblem.
Speaking of the anti-emblem, Neo had completed the first outline.
He made a brief incantation—an experimental one—and whispered it into the paper. The developing talisman glowed a slight red hue before forming into thick black lines, though it had taken about ten minutes.
The attempt at magic had been embarrassingly slow and sluggish.
He was still relearning how to use the 'magic' of this world.
Magic in the Rhine Empire had a system. It wasn't a form that could be freely used by channeling the energy from the body. For magic to work, it required a medium and a creator.
Life energy–otherwise known as 'magic'–was a part of the soul.
To allow for magic to form, the energy must physically infuse with the intent of the 'magician'. The way magic worked felt a bit like releasing a relieved sigh.
When the infusion was made, the intent and energy must be placed within a channel. This could be through runes, emblems, or talismans. The markings must be either written or carved or embroidered onto a surface.
Finally, to use the channels, one must either use an incantation to activate the markings or pull their life energy into the ready-made channel.
If Neo compared the experience to the modern world, the first was like using Touch ID on a cellular device and the second was like using Face ID.
Magic, in a sense, was technology.
It was impossible to manifest magical abilities from the body. Spells that summoned fireballs or manipulated water and ice were impossible without the use of magical talismans and mediums.
Magicians and magic-users often wore these mediums and talismans in their clothes, so when they performed magic, they created the illusion of fueling the spell solely with their innate energies.
Magic was more technical and tended towards calculations and geometry, which was why those who were talented in magic were trained to pursue a career in Magic Engineering.
It was a bit like college. Apprentices received full-ride scholarships to study in the Magic Tower.
This could be the literal dream job of all mathematicians, engineers, and tech students, alike.
Neo finished making the Slave Emblem and set it aside to dry near the window.
The anti-emblem outline was laid out before him.
This would be his first attempt at removing the Slave Emblem. He planned to try neutralizing each poison with its antidote.
He would first have to combine them into the anti-emblem before placing the outline over the Slave Emblem.
Like... a coverup tattoo.
He had gotten plenty of them in his last life.
Did they have tattoo parlors and piercing shops in the Rhine Empire?
Or was that banned by the Church as well?
Neo picked up a vile of what he remembered to be the extract of Warrior Blood Blossoms. He had to waft the bottle just to be sure--not sniff. Lab Safety Rule Number Five: Don't sniff toxic ingredients! He could damage his lungs!
His body moved instinctively, the muscle memory doing all the work.
Neo gently poured a small drop onto the outline--
"Young Master,"
"Gah!"
Cling!
Neo nearly fell off his chair.
Plop. Plop. Plop.
He stared in shock at the mess.
"Oh no..."
A mumbled curse flew out of his mouth before he could stop himself.
This was a really expensive material!
The entire outline was now dripping wet in the blossom's extract...
Sigh.
"Young Master?"
"Huh?"
Where the hell did Rainier come from?!
The servant was currently standing in front of him, smiling his charming smile and looking every bit like the immaculate servant he was. He didn't look like he was aware of what he had done.
"Apologies for startling you, Young Master. Master Gareth has called for your presence at the dining hall."
"Oh..."
Neo looked out the window and saw that it was already dark outside. Had he been sitting in here all day?
"I forgot about the time. Thank you for reminding me, Rainier," he said, trying to sound calm and not frustrated by the mess on his table.
He used a safety towel underneath his drawers to carefully wipe away the extract.
It was better to clean it off before it reached room temperature. The extract was capable of dissolving wood...
Looking at the outlines, it was beyond saving. There was only sogging wet and smeared ink left. Neo had already recorded the draft into his mind, but he was annoyed.
Creating the outline itself was an incredibly tedious task. He would have to recreate it later when he had more time.
Who needed sleep anyway?
The only problem was the loss of the extract. He would have to go into town in order to get another vial. The extract was not cheap...
"It is merely my duty, Young Master."
Well, Rainier didn't mean it.
Neo hadn't told anyone not to interrupt. It was merely the servant's duty to take care of him.
Besides, it was very hard to hate Rainier.
He might be the most reliable person around, especially after Neo came back.
The servant either didn't give a shit about his sudden change in personality, or he was a great actor.
He'd been serving him without batting an eye to his strange behavior these last few days, and Neo appreciated it.
This man was a godsend. He might be silently judging him, but at least he won't care enough to do anything about it.
"Will Young Master be taking his meals with the family this evening?"
"Yes."
He shuffled all his notes back into his drawer and carefully placed all the tools and ingredients back into their medicine boxes.
The anti-emblem will have to be burned. With the overabundance of Warrior Blood Blossom Extract, the intentions for the emblem were tainted. It now felt like a jargon of strained life energy.
He'd have to get rid of it tonight.
Carefully placing it into an empty drawer, Neo stood up.
"Let's go."
He followed Rainier to the dining hall.
---
"You're late."
His father spoke the moment he entered.
Neo sat down next to Guinevere and ignored the way she shot him a look and gave Aurelion another–pointed–look.
He answered facelessly, "I didn't realize the time. I was finishing some work."
His father grew quiet and raised a brow. He looked like he was going to say something else, but the words got lodged in his throat. He finally settled for an icy scowl and turned to the nearest servant.
"You can begin serving."
Silence reigned as the sound of silverware and plates echoed quietly throughout the room.
Rainier poured him a glass of wine and helped him get his food. Neo enjoyed the meal immensely, knowing the chefs hired for the Odum Kitchen were all top graduates of the Culinarian Academy.
He had developed a good appetite over the years in the modern world. It was as they say, the happier you were, the more you ate.
His adoptive father was a man who agreed with the philosophy of the body being the temple. Neo had immensely disappointed him by turning into a workaholic, but during his childhood and late teens, he was raised in a house with good food to nourish the body.
Taking meals with his current family was as awkwardly silent as he last remembered.
Morning meals were a bit more lively with discussions of the day's schedule, but dinner was more subdued.
Mostly since everyone was tired.
It was awkward, but if you looked beyond the initial chill and emotional constipation at the dinner table, there was still a tepid warmth between everyone that only a few could see.
He'd been joining meal time as often as he could, knowing it was a luxury to experience it with his family.
Most nobilities didn't eat together, typically due to schedule conflicts.
As a rule, the Odum Household could skip morning meals, but evening meals were a must.
Of course, there were times when his father or stepmother didn't make it back home in time. For those, the remaining people in the house still got together to eat.
Nazareth stopped attending mealtime when he entered the Noble Academy Junior Division.
His inferiority complex had taken a turn for the worst after being told by some of his friends–or lackeys–how they would take meals by themselves in their rooms.
It never occurred to him how lucky he was.
They had him believing it was a symbol of independence.
He was stupid and started to skip meals with his family.
It then became a habit to eat alone, which didn't do him any favors on his mental health.
He wasn't built for solitude, as much as he would like to believe. Working alone and shutting people out were two different things.
The Odum servants quietly watched as Young Master Nazareth began eating his third serving...
The table was still silent halfway into the meal.
It was actually quite amazing how no one had mentioned his new haircut or his change in behavior.
After that one-sided conversation with Aurelion, he had been tentatively awaiting the conversation.
His brother's silence under the pavilion had spoken of his discomfort with him. Neo didn't want to make the other uncomfortable, which made him realize what effects his change can cause.
Perhaps his current personality was too drastic of a switch.
No. After thinking about it, the shift was way too drastic!
But it wasn't like he would go back to the way he was. He couldn't...
The better option was to be quiet and think about what he could do to slowly integrate his current behavior into this new dynamic.
It might take time to get used to him, but the Odums have always been flexible to change.
The only problem was Aurelion.
Neo took a quick glance at his younger brother sitting across the table.
The other was eating his meal with no particular expression of enjoyment on his face. He ate coldly. Akin to an ice cube,
Sigh.
He couldn't force the other to like him.
As if noticing his gaze, Aurelion paused and slowly made eye contact with him. His cool sapphire eyes were unreadable and remarkably chilly to look at.
Neo pushed his standards even lower.
His brother didn't need to like him. As long as he knew he wouldn't come to harm, that should be enough.
Maybe someday they could find a way to mend their relationship, but for now, it was better to not come on too strong. He could be doing more harm than good...
Meanwhile, the rest of the Odum Family watched as the eldest child finished his fifth plate of food.
"How much is he going to eat...?" Guinivere couldn't help but mumble.
Aurelion was able to hear her clearly. He answered with a bit of ice in his voice, "I think the better question would be where it all goes,"
The meal soon finished with Nazareth eating six plates of food.
The wine remained untouched.
---
The family separated after the meal.
Neo went straight to his studies to bring his assignments and the ruined anti-emblem outline back to his bedroom. He shoved the outline into his drawers and neatly placed the assignments inside his school bag.
When Rainier entered half an hour later, he was just in time to sense a buildup of magic coming from somewhere. He had felt this earlier but wasn't alarmed. He had thought it was another of the Young Master's poisons again.
This time, however, the energy seemed to have grown stronger. Bigger. More chaotic and hazardous.
He casually allowed his other senses to encompass the room. He searched for a few seconds as he stood at attention, face calmly composed into a charming smile.
Eventually, he was able to locate the source coming from the Young Master's work desk--
"Rainier, can you help me carry some of these?"
The servant turned toward the Young Master and was given a stack of books.
"I just need you to place them on the table."
"Is the Young Master intending to work?"
There was a pause from the other party.
"You can say that."
It sounded a bit too enthusiastic for Rainier's taste.
It was very rare for the Young Master to sound so enthusiastic. He would need to report this to Master Aurelion--in case Young Master Nazareth was planning an early assassination attempt.
As Rainier carried the book over to the table, he began to feel an unusual discomfort coming from his eyes.
He placed a hand on his blindfold and messaged the skin beneath it.
Huh?
The servant's hands suddenly grew clammy with nervousness. He swallowed discreetly as the familiar feeling of terror enveloped him...
What... was this...?
"—ainier... Rainier?"
A hand fell on his shoulder and he jumped.
The books fell out of his arms and tumbled to the ground loudly.
He messed up—!
Rainier was kneeling on the ground and picking up the books before anyone could say anything, his poise slowly crumbling.
What was wrong with him all of a sudden?
"May I help you, Young Master?" He mustered out with great difficulty.
There was a pregnant pause.
"Are you alright?"
The servant internally scoffed but kept his smile in place.
"Of course, Young Master." He put the books on the table and headed toward the door.
As he left, he heard the Young Master call out, "Good night, Rainier!"
The servant clenched his hand into fists.
His smile remained unwavering.
---
Step 8. Find a way to end slavery. Even if you're the one who invented it.
---
Hello, everyone! Some of you must be immensely confused by the missing chapters. To my new readers, this story initially had 41 chapters, but I decided to do an in-depth revision, hence why there are only seven chapters. To my old readers, you can still read the original story on Webnovel. I decided to leave Webnovel unchanged for now until I have successfully revised everything. There will be new chapters, such as this one, but some chapters are still familiar. I will be fixing up plotholes and reorganizing some details. I hope you guys will be able to enjoy the revision as much as you had the original!