Before Keter’s regression, back when he lived in Liqueur, he looked down on the weak. Even groups of weaklings were no exception. In fact, he looked down on them even more. After all, no matter how big the trash mob was, the fact was that they couldn’t take down a single five-star Master. However, Keter came to admit he was wrong as he fought with the Lillian Kingdom. The weak of the Lillian Kingdom didn’t fight with weapons; they fought with their mouths. And that had troubled him more than he expected. “Let’s kill Keter for the unjust downfall of Sefira!” “Keter, you filthy murderer! A wicked villain through and through!” Even though Sefira’s fall had been caused by a preemptive strike from the monarchy, the blame for it all was pinned solely on Keter. The hatred and fury of tens of millions weighed down on him. No matter where he went in the kingdom, there was nowhere to stand. And it wasn’t just within the country. Beyond its borders, Keter was known as a heinous villain and mass murderer. Famous bounty hunters and self-proclaimed righteous knights traveled to the Lillian Kingdom just to kill him. It was then that Keter realized that the power of the overwhelming majority was not something that came from wielding weapons alone—it was will. There was no need to draw a sword and use it. Even if what was being said wasn’t true, it didn’t matter. No, the truth itself didn’t matter. “So is this what they call flow?” The majority had the power to shape the flow of the world. They could twist the truth. Of course, a seven-star Prime could still cut through even the flow created by tens of millions. That was how Keter endured and how he fought; because he was a Prime, he was able to fight an entire nation, resisting the will of millions. But though that may be entertaining, there was no reward in that. Even if he got his revenge, he wouldn’t be able to maintain his life afterwards. I’ll repay them with the exact same thing they did to me! That would be far more satisfying and create a more plentiful and entertaining life for him afterward. As such, in this life, he was determined to build his own force—one equal to or even greater than Lillian’s. The start of that was Sefira. He had cut ties with them in his previous life, but not this time. This time, he would make them thrive. “Sefira is just the start.” To Keter, Sefira was the soil, and he was the seed. The beginning would be a humble sprout, but it would send roots far and wide. He awakened Anis, redeemed Taragon, and fostered Volkanus. He saved Katherine and even took in Ultima, someone who was meant to be his enemy. He had brought in many others, irrespective of whether they were human or not, an ally or a former enemy. Even hostile noble families weren’t excluded. Keter gave them all an equal opportunity—a chance to talk with him. Of course, he wouldn’t just grant anyone an audience. “I hope the mediocre ones will get lost.” As if conducting job interviews, Keter made the nobles line up to speak with him, one by one. Even commoners would throw punches if their pride was hurt. Nobles, on the other hand, would kill or die for their pride. As Keter expected, the nobles went into an uproar. Thıs text ıs hosted at 𝖓𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑~𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖾~𝖓𝖊𝖙 “How dare he make us line up like commoners? This is outrageous. I’m leaving.” “To think that Count Hartos would be insulted . Keter is insufferably arrogant!” “I have no desire to humble myself this far just for a conversation.” Representatives and nobles who had waited hours to see Keter now turned away grumbling and cursing. It seemed like the crowd had thinned considerably, but a quick glance showed that over twenty people still remained. “More stayed than I expected.” At that moment, a middle-aged butler raised his hand. “I represent the Marquis of Grace from the north. If there are no objections, I will enter first.” If the nobles had to enter in order, it was only natural that the highest-ranking noble should enter first. As expected, the nobles ranked below a marquis quietly stepped aside. But one young butler didn’t budge. “You’ve come a long way, and I’m sorry, but I’ll be going first.” He didn’t mention which family he represented. Instead, he adjusted his collar, as if to reveal the badge on his chest. “The Marquis of Oaxford!” “I never thought Oaxford would take interest in Sefira.” “It makes perfect sense. Oaxford are the Masters of Magic in the west. With the godlike archery Keter displayed, it’s no wonder they would be interested.” It was said that most of the kingdom’s official court mages were from the Oaxford family. They were the most well-known mage family in the kingdom. The butler from the Grace family stepped back. Though both houses were marquisates, Oaxford held prestige on the level of the great houses. The Grace family was the weakest of the marquisates and could not compete. The young butler from Oaxford raised his chin and stepped forward, but just then, a young man emerged from an alleyway and grabbed the door of the restaurant. The young butler scowled and grabbed him by the shoulder. “How dare you get in the way of Oaxford? Step aside. You need to go over there and stand in line with the other nobles…” The young man who stepped in turned his head. Upon seeing his face, the young butler went pale. “W-why are you here?” “Why is the infamous scoundrel of Mejai here?!” The nobles gasped in horror. Veiga was the third eldest son of Mejai, the Masters of Swordsmanship from the east. He was known as a rogue and menace, but he had been waiting to meet Keter. “Get your hand off my shoulder,” Veiga said coldly to the young butler from Oaxford. “Shriek! I-I’m sorry, my lord!” “And you, the one who called me a scoundrel? I remember your face.” The noble who had muttered that clutched his chest as if pierced by Veiga’s very gaze. In the end, Veiga was the first to enter and meet Keter, and the remaining nobles were left dazed. “His title as the Soul Reaper wasn’t just a metaphor.” “I felt my life drain just being near him.” “Is the Mejai family showing interest in Sefira now, or is this just Veiga acting on his own…” One by one, the nobles and delegates quietly arranged themselves in order of rank, eagerly awaiting their turn to meet Keter. Keter ate meals the nobles bought him until the day before Group C's match began. Not only did he get free meals, but he also got dessert. For Keter, the status of the person coming to meet him was irrelevant. Whether it was nobles, knights, mercenaries, merchants, craftsmen, and even assassins, if someone came bowing their pride, he at least granted them a meeting. What they talked about wasn't even secretive. It was blatantly obvious and trivial. “Our family was impressed by your divine presence, Lord Keter. Might I ask what faction you belong to?” “I heard you’re from the Lawless City. I also know someone in Absinthe...” “You seemed to enjoy drinking, so I brought something modest.” It was one of two things: those trying to extract information through a conversation with Keter, or those who came to befriend him. Keter didn’t reject bribes. He accepted everything. He never gave a single hint asking for them, and yet, somehow the rumors spread, and those who came to find him always had something in hand. Of course, not everyone showed goodwill to Keter. “If you get arrogant just because of that petty divine power, you will be ruined!” “The one facing ruin is you.” He crushed the nose of the representative who scolded him with gravitas in his voice. “Rather than staying a mere illegitimate child of Sefira, what do you say to marrying into the Ellune family? My youngest daughter turned seven this year, and she is very modest and proper. If needed, we could consummate the marriage tonight to make it official...” Crash! Whack whack whack! Keter flipped the table and kneaded Count Ellune like dough. Several of his knights jumped in but got beaten just the same. At the end, he stomped on Ellune’s groin. Keter didn’t hesitate to make new enemies, no matter who the opponent was. “Little Brother, just what have you been doing these past three days?” Keter, who had joined his siblings on the day of Group C’s match, was scolded by Myle. “I was beating down a good network.” At Keter’s reply, Anis sarcastically replied, “You mean you were beating down the nobles.” “Aw, come on, Big Brother. Don’t be like that. Thanks to Keter, we got so many gifts. We can’t even fit them all in the carriage’s luggage compartment!” Taragon was all smiles. He didn’t remember the last time he had received gifts from his family, so getting high-end gifts from strangers made his grin impossible to suppress. “Taragon, those aren’t gifts—they are bribes. What Keter accepted is his own business, but we shouldn’t take bribes. We’re sending all of them back.” “Huh? All of them? You’re joking, right, Myle?” “If you really want to keep bribes, take them personally like Keter. Don’t accept them in Sefira’s name.” At that moment, fireworks exploded on the screen. At last, it was time for the final match of the first round: the battle royale for Group C. Katherine, who had brought drinks, handed one to Keter but was surprised when she looked at his screen. “Huh? My lord, is there someone you’re keeping an eye on?” Her question caught the attention of the other siblings too. There were no Masters in Group C. Whether by chance or design, all Masters had been grouped into A and B. As a result, the strongest contestants in Group C were two four-star knights: Maxid Ereal, the Unyielding Knight, and Gillion Blitz, the eldest son of Count Blitz. Besides them, there weren’t any notable participants. But the person Keter was watching was neither of those two. It was a completely unexpected person. “It’s not Sir Ereal or Sir Gillion.” The magic screen allowed for checking a participant’s basic info, so the three brothers quickly looked up their names and affiliation. “Never heard of him.” “A two-star knight and the second son of Baron Duster... Apologies to him, but there’s nothing special about him.” “Still, maybe there’s something there?” Keter stared intently at the participant named Dopema, and the three siblings watched his performance alongside him, but… “I’ll say it bluntly: he’s below average.” Indeed, Dopema was average or below. His looks were ordinary, his swordsmanship was a formal technique any noble could learn. He wasn’t particularly clever, nor did he show tactical skill. In every way, he was a participant with nothing worth noting. At least, that was how they saw it. “Oh, he lost his badge.” After a bland exchange with another participant, Dopema got hit at a weak point and went down. Seeing this, Keter stroked his chin. Dopema was viewed by others as subpar, but he looked different to Keter, who had experienced a past life because in his previous life, Dopema became the ninth Sword of the South. And yet... It wasn’t an act; Dopema was genuinely weak. Not only would he not win the tournament, but he also didn’t have the skill to make the top ten. It made no sense. Even if Keter’s interference changed the course of fate, someone who had once won the tournament shouldn’t be this weak. Why on earth did this happen? There were no clues. Keter frowned. Worst case scenario, this life might not be exactly the same as my previous one. When he arrived in Sefira, Keter had checked to see if such a discrepancy existed. He went to Anis to confirm he was the same Anis from his past. Everything else, too, was identical. But now, a person behaving completely differently from his previous life had appeared? It’s unsettling... but I suppose it’s not impossible. After all, I reincarnated. When an unsolvable issue arose, Keter had a habit of pushing it aside. He did that with how he reincarnated, and the truth about his mother. This time, he tried to do the same. “Before the real chaos begins, I have a few words.” A comment that was familiar came from the screen. “Who is that, and why is he copying Keter?” “Does he think he’s as strong as our Keter?” “I checked who it was. That’s Sir Norman from Baron Shadabon’s knight order. He’s a two-star knight,” said Katherine. The Sefira brothers nodded like they now understood. “I think he’s trying to copy Keter for fame.” “I wonder if he’s ever heard the saying that an orc who follows an ogre gets their skull split?”[1] The audience felt the same. Even the other participants laughed. “Did he drink instead of taking elixir?” Unlike Keter, Norman was being cursed out from every direction. Yet for some reason, with a very relaxed face, he finished, “Keter, I’m stronger than you.” The audience erupted in boos. “Boo! You lunatic! Know your place!” “A two-star thinks he can beat Lord Keter, a five-star Master?” “Someone please shut this crazy bastard up already!” As if in response to the condemnation, two men stepped up to handle Norman: Ereal and Gillion, the strongest people from Group C. They had formed an alliance and came straight for Norman. But Norman said to them, “Sorry, but could you wait a moment? I’m not done talking.” The two four-star knights scoffed. “Even if you apologize now, it’s too late. Even if you didn’t say it, this is a competition.” “You haven’t even found a sword yet, At least use your fists. I’ll use mine too.” As Gillion approached, Norman suddenly tucked his left hand behind his back and raised his right ring finger. This strange action made both Ereal and Gillion stare in confusion. “I don’t have flashy skills like Keter. But instead, I’ll do this.” A small Aura Sword formed on Norman’s pinky. “I’ll face all of Group C, including you two, using only this finger.” Norman smiled brightly. It was a creepy grin with no teeth showing. 1. A play on the Korean idiom, “A sparrow only ends up with torn legs if it apes the steps of a stork.” It means that people ruin themselves by trying to imitate their betters. ☜