Magic had faded to be a distant memory since the Eternal War. Only the priests of Osmela have had some understanding of it; however, it was significantly weaker than in ancient times. All that was truly left were stories that had turned into mythology.
Humans had tried to control magic, twisting it to their desire. Thus, the Kirith Empire was born from their greed. Centuries later, it fell also because of their greed, and then magic was sealed by the dragons.
It was an indisputable fact that dragons were the true rulers of magic.
The Kardos' history was not intertwined with magic, but they knew how to combat it. Normal swords would break over time when confronting magic, so they partnered with the northern dragon tribes and wielded swords of dragon bone and fangs.
When the Anima Wish was granted and time turned back, magic seeped into the world and changed it. Anima gifted him her heart to give Oliver an advantage in this new world.
As Oliver touched the frost that was slowly dissipating on the Ravager corpses. He was unsure at first if this was his doing, but when his fingers made contact with the cold magic, he knew it originated from him.
Oliver pressed his hand over his heart and felt the powerful beats. The Kardos family had no talent for magic, so it was impossible that this was a power hidden within his bloodline. This magic was born from the dragon's heart.
"Oliver, are you injured?" James had approached Oliver as he was lost in his thoughts.
Oliver stood up and shook himself from his thoughts. He had no idea how to use magic proactively, so there was no reason to concern himself with it now.
He ignored James' question and looked back at the tired soldiers. He raised his voice so the others could hear him. "Whoever is capable, help the villagers with the fire. The injured, stay back for treatment."
He patted James on the shoulder, silently telling him it was time to get back to work. James took off with a helpless look.
He noticed that the Glacier Thunder horse was still standing in the same place. These horses have fierce temperaments. Not many could approach them. He wanted to claim the horse immediately but turned to the fire instead and helped the others.
A full night passed, and the village finally fell silent. The children were clustered in an unharmed barn and piled in with blankets. The adults were worn and exhausted.
Oliver also felt weary but refused to rest. Instead, he built a campfire and started working on a simple meal that could feed many. He sat numbly as he stirred a bland stew and paused when Sarah came to sit next to him.
"Sampson has been detained." She said and pointed to the miserable-looking man.
"Good job."
"How did you know that I would be capable of bringing him back?"
"You hide yourself well, but some of your habits hint that you're not an ordinary maid." He said with a smile.
"Does this upset you?" She knew some men would detest having someone with her skills hidden in their midsts.
However, Oliver shook his head. "Not in the least. I'm relieved to have a strong ally."
He handed her the spoon for the stew. "Do you mind?"
She shook her head and took over cooking. Oliver returned to the large white Glacier Tundra stallion standing passively to the side. It watched Oliver the entire time he was helping the villagers.
Several men had approached it before, but the stallion would become aggressive, so they left it alone. However, when Oliver came, it turned docile and lowered its head.
Oliver was surprised. He had tamed several Glacier Tundra horses before, but he needed time and the full might of his aura. But this time, it was too easy. The horse submitted the moment he approached as if it could sense the dragon's heart. Another advantage that Anima gave him.
He gently patted the horse and grinned. "I'll show you a better adventure than that Ravager."
He then nimbly jumped on the horse's back. The horse pawed at the ground for a moment and settled quickly under Oliver. He led the horse around the camp several times, tethering it next to the other steeds. He dismounted and packed his bags onto its saddle.
The horse nuzzled his chest affectionately, making him laugh. "There is a legend about the god of northern winds, Boreas... I believe that name is fitting for you."
He patted the horse's neck before returning to the fire with Sarah. The food was ready, and he called out to the villagers. "Grab a bowl. If we run out, we'll make more."
The villagers were hesitant at first, but their hungry stomachs won out. Seeing their enthusiasm while eating, he knew they had been without a decent meal in a while.
Not wanting them to worry about rations, Oliver started another stew and called the soldiers over when it was ready. He took the initiative to serve the soldiers, and they all looked curiously at him, wondering which Kardos son came in and issued commands skillfully.
The commander approached him and bowed. "Lord, I am Ian Cornel of the Core Soldiers. Thank you for coming and turning the tide."
Oliver waved away the pleasantries and had him sit down next to him. "I was lucky to have come on time."
Ian gave him a perplexed look. "You have led men before, haven't you?"
Oliver was holding a bowl in his hands, and he paused when he heard this. "Did I overstep?"
Ian laughed. "You're a Kardos, so leading the Core is part of your birthright. However, I don't think we have ever met."
"I haven't been home for a long time," Oliver said quietly.
Ian smiled slightly. "So you're Oliver."
Oliver raised an eyebrow and then nodded. He didn't know how bad his reputation was in Wynter. In his previous life, he isolated himself in his chambers in Wynter and never got close to the soldiers here.
Ian patted his shoulder. "The world is full of dark words and rumors. We only believe what we see."
The two twins ran over to Oliver and bowed.
Oliver nodded and smiled. "I saw your actions today. Is it safe to assume that you have made your choice?"
The brothers smiled, and Morris answered, "It wasn't a hard choice, boss."
Oliver patted their shoulders. "I look forward to working together then."
"We actually have news to deliver. A messenger hawk came for Sampson, and we intercepted it." Max explained.
Oliver's casual attitude became a little colder. "What was the message?"
"It was asking if we were successful in our mission. We have not sent a reply yet." Max answered.
Oliver clicked his tongue. "Respond using Sampson's name. Let them know that you had a few losses on the way, but the outcome will not change."
"Yes, boss." They both responded and took off.
Ian curbed his curiosity but couldn't help but ask Oliver about this. "Mission?"
Oliver nodded. "To kill me."
Ian stood up in a rage. He never interacted with Oliver, but this battle proved that Oliver was not a weak man. Instead, he had a deep presence and forethought. His decisive actions saved many lives, so Ian couldn't tolerate that someone was after his life.
"Who would dare to?"
Oliver chuckled. "It's complicated. But I'm not overly concerned."
James approached at this time with a tried and worn face. Oliver quickly poured him a bowl of food and handed it to him. "Oliver, should I check your shoulder?" James asked.
Oliver shook his head. "It's a minor wound. You deserve some rest."
James had worked all night treating the soldiers and villagers alongside a few medically trained soldiers. They were all at their breaking point.
James took the food and stared blankly at Oliver. "I saw how bad that kick was. That man was a behemoth, so I know your injury isn't that simple."
"I'm tougher than I look. Eat and rest. We will head back home in a few hours." Oliver said gently and forced him to sit down. The ache in his shoulder was something he could tolerate.
After feeding the village and soldiers, he spoke with the village elders to ensure everyone was protected and taken care of. He also met with the village guards and planned contingencies with them. Ian and the other soldiers observed Oliver, bewildered by the man's actions.
Oliver didn't mind the many eyes watching him and checked their supplies. When he was satisfied, he climbed on the back of the large horse. The others understood his actions and quickly started to pack up as well.
Max and Morris were next to him within moments, and he leaned down to them. "You sent the message?"
"Yes, boss," Morris answered.
"You have killed for me already. Is this the path you have chosen?"
"We're not sure," Max said. "Do you have a request for us?"
Oliver sighed a little. "Will you be able to track the tracks of these Ravagers? These bastards have been slipping between the borders of Wynter and Rucrea, and I would like to know how."
They both bowed and grinned. They enjoyed tracking the most and left quickly to complete their task for Oliver.
The rest of the men followed Oliver and Ian back to Wynter.
The ride back was rambunctious because of their victory. They sang and cheered the whole way home, lifting each other's moods. When they entered the Kardos estate, the soldiers who did not participate in the battle were surprised to see this atmosphere and quickly cheered for their return. However, what was more shocking was seeing the silver-haired man next to Ian on a large white horse.
"Lord Oliver, welcome home," Ian said as Oliver entered the gates.
A warm feeling rushed through him as he looked at the old manor. He always dreamed about coming back here and was grateful that he chose to come over right away after his rebirth.
"Home," Oliver whispered to himself.
However, he held in his excitement and rode over to the stables instead. He knew that Boreas was a prideful horse and no one would be able to approach him easily. Therefore, he would be the only one who could care for him, which was normal for anyone riding a Glacier Tundra horse.
While brushing down Boreas, he sensed that many were looking at him both near and afar. He petted Boreas' face fondly, quite content with his new horse. Without turning around, he spoke out. "Is this my welcoming party?"
"Lord Oliver, we welcome you to Wynter." The butler, Timothy, said in a smooth voice.
He was Antony's right-hand man and the head of the Hidden soldiers. He was powerful and was the only one able to take down Rucrea's old General. Regrettably, the wound he sustained from the battle festered and took his life in the end.
Oliver frowned as he recalled the day Timothy died. He felt that everyone he encountered in this new life was someone he had killed, buried, or burned. He was like a ghost trying to live amongst them now.
"Thank you, Timothy." He turned with a small smile. "You all have worked hard while we were away in the capital."
"Commander Ian told me you joined him in the battle against the Ravagers."
Oliver nodded and let Timothy lead him toward the manor. "I have two men tracking the trail of the Ravagers so we can possibly gain a hint towards their hideout."
Another high-ranking soldier was next to them and seemed unsatisfied with his answer. "The Core Soldiers have been tracking them for years now. Do you think your men can surpass our efforts?"
Oliver wasn't upset with his tone. "No. But their tracks were somewhat fresh, so it doesn't hurt to try and hope for the best."
The officer fell silent with these words and didn't notice Ian glaring at him.
Timothy started to show Oliver around the manor, beginning with the dining area and ballroom, but Oliver frowned. He got used to his simple way of living; breakfast in the mornings with the kitchen staff, practicing with Conrad, reading in the library in the afternoons, and practicing on his own at night in the gardens. He was unaccustomed to the grand dining room and ballroom.
"Can you show me the study, please?" Oliver asked.
Timothy faltered. "Lord? There's no need to worry about the study. I'll handle the affairs of the manor."
Oliver chuckled. "I know what my reputation is, Timothy, but I can assure you, I am not here to harm my family."
Timothy was a little flustered when Oliver said this. He didn't mean to make his words sound like he feared Oliver's intentions. He sighed and let go of his previous demeanor. "Follow me."
Oliver happily followed along and entered a large room with Timothy, Sarah, Ian, and a few officers.
The study was lined with books and scrolls, with a desk nestled in the back in front of a window. A large table was in the center of the room, and Oliver knew that this was where Antony would meet with his officers. Sometimes his father would borrow this study when needed to discuss specific plans to protect Wynter. Many decisions were made in this room that changed Wynter for the better.
Oliver walked up to the table and examined the map that was sprawled open on it. There were several location marks on the map that Oliver noted.
"The Ravagers have appeared in these locations?" He asked while pointing at the marks.
"Yes, my Lord," Ian answered.
Oliver clicked his tongue. "Just Oliver." He reprimanded. "Titles like 'Lord' are cumbersome."
Before the others could protest, there was a knock on the study door, and James walked in. "I apologize for interrupting but I must attend to Oliver's wounds."
Timothy paled a little. "Are you injured, Lord Oliver?"
Oliver frowned. He was annoyed by the fuss and the title. "It's nothing serious. I will go to you later, James."
James narrowed his eyes. "You don't understand. I'm using my authority as a medical soldier right now. I will tend to your wound whether you like it or not."
Oliver was stunned. A medical soldier could pull rank to ensure the troop's safety. He could supersede Oliver in this regard.
Oliver's shock faded to laughter. "You're getting bold, James. Come on, let's go to my room and patch up."
Oliver led him to his assigned room, and when they settled in, James removed Oliver's shirt and released a curse. He had examined Oliver's wounds in the capital just a month ago, but now new wounds decorated Oliver's arms and sides. A dark bruise covered one side of his chest and stretched to the middle of his back.
"You need to learn how to take better care of your body," James said quietly as he examined the wounds.
Oliver hummed an absent-minded reply. His humble room overlooked the training fields, and his eyes were drawn to the men practicing.
"Oliver!" James called out, trying to gain his full attention.
"I'll try harder." He said while his eyes were still drawn to the soldiers below.
He saw two men who were arguing. It seemed like a simple argument, but it was quickly escalating. He watched as several officers interceded and attempted to calm them down, but they were too far gone and drew their swords.
Even Ian ran out and started to yell at them, but they refused to stop. They were enraged and blinded by their anger. Oliver released a low breath. Soon, they would cut each other, and death was inevitable once blood was drawn. This was the curse of the warrior.
While James' back was turned, Oliver opened the window of his second-story room and jumped out, rolling as he hit the floor the lessen the impact of his fall. He grabbed two wooden swords as he ran onto the field.
His body blurred between the onlookers, and he reached the two fighting men like a gust of wind. They swung their swords with malice and the intent to kill. However, Oliver expertly positioned his wooden swords and pushed both blades away, making them miss each other.
The men were furious and turned their anger toward Oliver. They swung at him, but Oliver continued to dance around the blades. With a flick of his wrist, his wooden swords cracked against the men's hands, making them lose their grip on their swords. He followed with a downward swing, crashing his wood blades on the top of their heads, making both men stop in their tracks. A sense of clarity reached their eyes.
Oliver sighed dramatically. "It's best to work out your anger, but next time, use practice swords."
The men flushed with embarrassment and bowed their heads when Ian approached them. "Irresponsible! And disrespectful. The first day the Young Lord comes home, you two brawl like drunks in a bar."
When Ian said this, the men started to stir and immediately recognized the silver hair. They all bowed respectfully.
Oliver waved his hands to show that he was unbothered. "Tensions run high sometimes, so simple fights are bound to happen. It's nothing serious as long as no one gets hurt. Besides, I taught them a small lesson." He pointed to the top of his head, indicating that he had struck them hard.
However, Ian had stopped paying attention to the fight and noticed the state of Oliver's body. The wounds told a heavy story of a warrior's past battles. Oliver was not the flippant lord they had heard about.
"Oliver Kardos!" An angry roar ripped through the fields, and James came storming through the dense crowd. His face was red with anger.
"Ah, James... about this..."
"No. No excuses. You have put off treatment all goddamn day, and the moment you let me look at that busted-up shoulder, you jump out of the fucking window and join a fight?!"
Oliver smiled, trying to appease the angry man. "The shoulder looks worse than it is."
"I'm the medic here, not you. You obviously dislocated it. And because you cannot stay still, you ripped up your muscles and ligaments. If you put too much stress on it, you will lose the functionality of your arm. Is that what you want?"
Oliver's face darkened with that thought, and he subconsciously rolled his shoulder, feeling the dull ache.
"I swear to all that is holy, you are the most stubborn Kardos lord I have ever met." James groaned. "You are going to go back upstairs, and you will let me finish examining your wounds, and because you have pissed me off, I am putting your arm in a sling."
"I really don't think a sling is necessary," Oliver muttered.
"No arguing. Upstairs!" James pointed towards the manor.
Oliver chuckled and patted James' head. "Alright, almighty medical soldier. Let's tend to my wounds."