Chapter 46
The Boy’s Change
Rumors that Isaac had returned from Binfelt transformed—taller, stronger, almost unrecognizable—spread quickly throughout the Goethe estate.
But not everyone welcomed the change.
A twelve-year-old boy had suddenly grown into the body of a man in his mid-teens—fifteen, perhaps sixteen.
Though he still had room to grow and retained a faint trace of youth, the servants of the estate did not view this transformation favorably.
There were many reasons, but the largest was fear.
Fear of another mana explosion.
Even before his growth, Isaac had triggered mana surges that terrified the household and caused injuries, both minor and severe. Now that his body had grown, it was only natural for them to assume the explosions would be even worse.
And his appetite had changed too.
“Bring more meat. Quickly. I’m hungry.”
Unlike before, Isaac now complained about meals.
For the head chef, it was both frustration and pride that had to be adjusted.
He had once been feared, yet still satisfied by the estate’s cooking—that was an accomplishment.
But Isaac’s return from Binfelt forced a complete overhaul of the menu.
However, those most troubled by Isaac’s change were the soldiers stationed at the estate.
“Can we share the training ground?”
“What kind of training do you do? Can I join?”
From the very first day back—after bathing and eating—Isaac had gone straight to the training yard.
It was a difficult situation.
With neither the Count nor the steward present, the young heir of Goethe was suddenly demanding to train with them.
The soldiers couldn’t refuse—but they couldn’t easily accept either.
If they refused, the boy might explode in anger.
If they accepted, he might still explode in anger during training.
And above all—
The hellhound lying calmly in the distance, watching everything, made them even more uneasy.
If Isaac got injured even slightly…
Would that monster tear their heads off?
“I promise, he’s harmless.”
Isaac said it calmly.
No one believed him.
“Father’s permission? It’s fine. I’m acting head of the house while he’s away.”
Their excuses slowly ran out.
Isaac was persistent.
And so—
They ended up facing a walking mana bomb.
Except… it wasn’t Isaac who exploded first.
It was them.
“That’s all?”
It started with Isaac’s blunt criticism.
The soldiers trained by running a rough forest path around the estate, carrying baskets filled with stones on their backs.
The terrain was uneven—gravel, slopes, hills.
Even seasoned soldiers collapsed after a single lap.
They expected Isaac to quit immediately.
The stones in his basket had even been replaced with iron scraps as a prank.
But Isaac finished the run.
And stood perfectly fine.
No vomiting. No complaints.
Only light sweat.
As if it had been a casual walk.
“Easier than expected. What’s next?”
That single sentence made veins bulge on the soldiers’ foreheads.
To them, Isaac was still just a noble child with a large body.
They had fought in Winterband, served in foreign armies, and survived mercenary bands.
They had real experience.
And this boy was mocking them.
“Next is sparring,” a veteran said coldly.
Killing intent filled the air.
They wanted to break him.
Teach him reality.
But reality broke them instead.
“Ugh!”
A wooden sword swung down.
Isaac tilted his body and dodged effortlessly, then stepped in.
His shoulder struck the soldier’s chest.
No sound—just impact.
The soldier felt his bones vibrate internally.
He staggered back three steps without realizing it.
By the time he recovered—
A wooden sword was already at his neck.
“That’s all?”
The soldier’s face twisted in anger.
But he had lost.
“I concede.”
“Next.”
One after another, they challenged him.
And one after another, they fell.
No one among them was smaller or weaker than Isaac.
They trained relentlessly, ate heavily, and honed their bodies.
Yet none could match him.
When Isaac’s body collided with theirs, it felt like hitting stone.
“He fights like a tribal warrior.”
Veterans began noticing something familiar.
His movements resembled northern tribes.
Like Winterband mercenaries—or berserkers.
But there was something else layered beneath it.
Clean sword technique.
Flowing transitions between offense and defense.
Unpredictable shifts in weapon style.
Sometimes a sword.
Sometimes an axe.
Sometimes a blunt force strike.
His wooden sword changed identity mid-fight.
And then—
He closed distance.
A soldier swung upward.
Isaac stepped inside the motion.
Grabbed the wrist.
Twisted.
The soldier’s weapon fell.
“Ah—!”
Defeated.
No one remained.
“Anyone else?!”
Silence.
The soldiers stood in disbelief.
A twelve-year-old boy.
A mana anomaly.
A noble child who had just returned from Binfelt.
And he had defeated them all.
Even if they had held back at first, the later matches were serious.
And still—
They lost.
Isaac had three reasons.
First—testing his abilities.
Carlson and Bessemer were too strong.
Binfelt soldiers too weak.
But Goethe estate soldiers were perfect.
Veterans of close combat.
Disciplined.
Experienced.
Ideal training partners.
He wanted to understand his new body.
The Wolf King’s rune stone had changed him.
Mana no longer stayed contained—it flowed through his entire body, reinforcing muscles and joints.
Like tribal warriors who instinctively used mana.
Like knights who used aura.
He now stood between both worlds.
The result satisfied him.
Second—he needed to push them.
War was coming.
Goethe could not afford weakness.
They needed growth.
Urgently.
Third—reputation.
Isaac needed a controlled public image.
The legacy of his ancestor, Zeke von Goethe, the man who once burned the royal capital.
A cursed trait: mana rampage.
If he used magic openly, it could endanger the entire house.
But silence alone was not enough.
So he needed two reputations:
A genius swordsman.
And a reckless noble.
One would mask the other.
Freedom required contradiction.
“Zeke von Goethe was the first and last human to reach 10th class.”
Isaac spoke in the library, telling Jonas the history.
Only future heads were allowed to see such records—but Jonas needed to know early.
It would be heavy.
But necessary.
“…He burned the royal castle?” Jonas asked, shocked.
“Yes.”
“Then… people in the capital fear you too?”
“If it becomes known, yes. The entire house will be in danger.”
Jonas swallowed.
“That’s bad. Really bad.”
“So it stays secret.”
A small silence.
Then—
“I’ll get stronger,” Jonas said firmly. “I’ll protect everyone. Father, Mother, my brother… everyone here.”
Isaac smiled faintly.
“Then I’ll rely on you.”
He ruffled Jonas’s golden hair.
A child’s promise.
But one spoken with absolute seriousness.
