I'm the Crazy One in the Family
Chapter 137: Quite Timid for a God (3)

Chapter 137: Quite Timid for a God (3)

While aura naturally loved dwarves, mana naturally loved elves. These races were able to accumulate aura or mana in their bodies without effort.

In awe of them, humans developed two techniques to imitate their power: aura and mana cultivation methods. Humans forcibly absorbed aura and mana into their bodies, sealed it in, suppressed it, and thus tried to mimic elves and dwarves.

Among these techniques, metamorphosis was one crafted for humans to surpass even elves and dwarves. Elves were attuned to mana but lacked aura, and dwarves were attuned to aura but could not wield mana. However, a human who underwent metamorphosis became a body optimized for both aura and mana.

Metamorphosis was rare three hundred years ago as well, though not completely unheard of. Some bloodlines were known to frequently undergo metamorphosis upon reaching adulthood.

However, at some point, every human of that bloodline vanished. It wasn’t just the bloodlines that disappeared. All research and records analyzing the conditions of metamorphosis—the secret techniques to induce it artificially—vanished without a trace. Because this happened during the height of anti-elf sentiment, blame naturally fell on the elves, saying it was the envy of humans that led to such sabotage.

Regardless, in the present day, only one in a hundred thousand people naturally underwent metamorphosis. It had nothing to do with one’s level or cultivation.

Of course, Keter knew the secret behind metamorphosis.

I didn’t expect this to happen now.

Metamorphosis only occurred in those who possessed both aura and mana. But having both doesn’t guarantee it will happen. The required condition was both simple and strict: one had to maintain their body at the brink of collapse that was caused by the overwhelming amount of aura and mana. Then, eventually, the body would reach a threshold and reconstruct itself through metamorphosis.

Aura was already covered, thanks to the self-destructive training. Did the recent surgery fulfill the mana condition? But even then, it’s rare for metamorphosis to occur immediately afterward.

The self-destructive training method, which destroyed one’s own body with aura, wasn’t designed for metamorphosis, but in theory, it could trigger it. Plus, it was true that Keter had been exposed to three hundred years' worth of pure mana through the recent surgery to treat Extreme Mana Overload Syndrome. However, as the exposure was extremely brief, the condition had been satisfied for only a moment.

Keter opened his left eye and looked to the side. There was Katherine, calmly managing her mana using the cultivation method Keter had taught her.

Could it be because of you?

He didn’t mean that Katherine did something to cause metamorphosis. She didn’t help knowingly or intentionally.

Causality, perhaps.

He had saved her, taken her in, and taught her embodiment magic and Magic Archery. In addition, he also let her assist him during the surgery. All of those choices might have unknowingly interfered with something and triggered this one-in-a-million chance for early metamorphosis. That was Keter’s conclusion.

This really is luck, Godfather.

Though, Keter couldn’t say whether it was his causality, or Katherine’s causality that had affected his, or whether it was a combination of both.

Well, it may be just a coincidence, but.... I don’t believe in coincidences.

So then, does this mean I have to go around helping people in danger from now on?

Keter had zero intention of doing that.

I’ve been through that in Liqueur.

Some people demanded payment after being saved. Some bit the very hand that fed them. Keter knew that kindness didn’t always return kindness, nor did malice always return malice.

Keter had simply used Gyro as an experimental subject to test his poison. There was no kindness or malice. Yet Gyro survived, and he was actually grateful. Their relationship had fizzled out in his past life, but the two had developed an oddly close bond in this one, which was quite ironic.

That’s the fun of life.

Keter had also told Henya that life never went the way one planned, and that was what made it fun.

With that fleeting thought, the metamorphosis came to an end.

Katherine had already finished her meditation and now waited with the three Sefira brothers.

The light surrounding Keter began to fade, and when he stood up, he was completely naked. During the process of reconstructing his body at the cellular level, the intense heat generated had turned his clothes to ash.

Keter stretched his back and said, “Feels refreshing.”

“Keter, it’s embarrassing. Put some clothes on.”

“W-what the hell is that size...?”

Taragon stared in shock, while Anis quickly covered Katherine’s eyes with his hand.

Just in time, Didos, the captain of the fifth division of the Order of the Galaxy, stepped forward and offered Keter a change of clothes.

“Congratulations on your advancement, Lord Keter.”

“Thanks.”

Keter slipped into the clothes Didos brought him, though oddly, they fit a bit loosely.

Anis took one look and muttered, “I thought I was imagining it, but did he get a bit taller?”

Keter already appeared lanky before, but he had gotten a little taller from the metamorphosis. As such, his frame had grown even leaner and more agile. In flattering terms, he looked elven. In less generous ones, he looked like a noble who had never lifted a finger in a real fight.

“I’ll ask the butler to bring more fitting clothes.”

To that, Keter just shook his head,

“It’s fine. It’s not the clothes that matter. It’s the person who wears it that counts.”

“Ahem. Keter, Butler Forty-Two told me everything. We’re only staying here thanks to you treating the lord’s son, Ryze. If you’re back safe, then I take it the surgery was a success. Well done, and thank you. Also, congratulations on your growth and metamorphosis.”

Seeing that Keter was now dressed, Myle took the chance to properly express his praise.

Once he finished, Anis and Taragon followed.

“It hurt like hell, but I always knew your medical skills were real. Congratulations. Be sure to tell us how you ended up going through metamorphosis.”

“Keter, I’m proud to have you as my brother.”

Katherine bowed deeply from the waist.

“Thanks to you, my mana increased significantly. Truly, thank you, and congratulations.”

The Order of the Galaxy all dropped to one knee and cried out in unison, “Congratulations, Lord Keter!”

Surrounded by warm words and celebration, Keter felt an unfamiliar flutter in his chest. This wasn’t new; he had heard praise before, so much in Liqueur that he was almost sick of it. But this was different.

This wasn’t flattery born from fear, nor was it manipulation from people trying to use him. These were affectionate praises and genuine expressions of respect. It was a kind of joy he had never experienced, even in his previous life. It made him feel something new: shyness.

“Heh. This feels good. Alright, everyone, gather around. I’m cooking dinner tonight!”

On a good day like this, good food and good drinks were a must.

* * *

At dawn of the same day, when everyone should have been asleep, two knights of the Order of the Galaxy stood alternating shifts, keeping night watch. This was Didos’ order, a precaution even against the slimmest of chances.

The hardest shift was always the one in the middle of the night, so Didos, the captain, volunteered to take it himself.

“...”

There was nothing—no sound, no light, not even a trace of life. That was how dawn was. Yet both Didos and the knight under his command remained alert, scanning their surroundings, bows and arrows always in hand. They didn’t chat, as night watch wasn’t the time for that.

Pitter patter.

Hearing footsteps, Didos turned. It was Keter, strolling over with one hand scratching his stomach.

Didos saluted with a fist to his chest and said, “All clear during the shift.”

“Cool. I’m stepping out for a bit.”

“May I ask where you're headed?”

“Nope.”

“Understood.”

Didos stepped aside.

Keter walked through the dark. The palace at night was dead silent, almost too silent. There wasn’t a single guard on patrol. There were no lamps either, so it was pitch dark everywhere.

And yet, he still felt watched. Shadows shifted on their own.

Pitter patter.

Hands in his pockets, Keter strolled forward. The shadows approached him, but promptly retreated after recognizing who he was.

Keter made his way through the dark to the topmost floor of the palace, which was closest to the sky.

There, a man was quietly polishing his weapons with a soft cloth. It was Eslow, the Weaponmaster, and the Lord of the South.

Despite Keter’s arrival, Eslow didn’t glance at him or talk to him. He focused solely on polishing his weapons. Keter also said nothing. Instead, he watched the weapons floating beside Eslow in silence.

This was the first time he had been able to observe them from such a close distance, as they had been enemies in his previous life. Now, he could study them up close as Franken’s apprentice. He saw a sword with no blade and only a hilt, a spear flickering with crimson flame, a double-edged black axe made from a horned skull, a glass shield as thin as hair, and wooden armor crafted from interwoven roots and branches.

I had my doubts in my last life, but seeing them from here, it’s clear.

Artifacts normally contained divine fragments or spirits. But none of Eslow’s weapons had that feeling. Keter could feel their souls, but not those of spirits or gods, which meant they weren’t artifacts. So, were they magic tools?

No, they don’t have the features of magic tools.

Magic tools were literally tools with magic. As they had to activate independently of the user, they had mana stones built into them. Mana stones were consumables and had to be replaced, so the tools were built so that replacements were easy to do.

But Eslow’s weapons had no slots for any stones.

Not artifacts or magic tools. And yet they are this powerful...

He had already heard the answer from Henya.

These are weapons created through Eslow’s authority.

Eslow’s authority allowed him to turn living beings into weapons, and the stronger the being, the stronger the weapon.

I wonder what those five weapons he cherishes most were before? No, the question is wrong. With power equal to or beyond artifacts... Who were they when alive? Could they ever be turned back?

As Keter was entertaining himself with interesting theories...

“You’re still here?”

Eslow finally broke the silence, his eyes never leaving the weapon in his hand.

“The breeze feels good,” answered Keter, stepping slightly closer as he spoke.

At that moment, a cut appeared on his clothes without any warning. It wasn’t Eslow but the sharpness of his weapons affecting the world around them. Even getting close was enough to be cut. Anyone could tell that if he got any closer, he would be sliced to pieces.

But Keter kept walking, taking the shortest path straight toward Eslow. As he took each step, more shreds of cloth fluttered in the wind.

Eslow’s polishing slowed. A shadow fell over him as Keter. Silhouetted by the moonlight, he now stood almost naked, but he had not shed a single drop of blood.

Finally, Eslow rose to his feet. His weapons, brimming with rage, turned toward Keter, who dared stand before them.

Even though Keter had grown taller after his metamorphosis, Eslow still looked down at him.

“Arrogant. You dare stand before me without permission?”

Keter casually brushed the remaining fabric off his body.

“You were practically asking me to come find you, weren’t you?”

“You think you’re something now, just because you went through metamorphosis?”

Eslow reached out, and the black double-edged axe flew into his hand.

“In the grand flow of the world, you are nothing. You may think you’re special. You may think you matter, but...”

The axe moved slightly, but suddenly, its edge was at Keter’s throat.

“...to me, your life holds as much value as a goblin’s. If I killed you here and now, what would happen? Nothing. The world would go on as it always has. Know your place, you insignificant brat.”

Drip.

A bead of blood rolled down Keter’s neck, where the blade touched him. And then, Keter leaned forward.

Squelch!

Blood spurted out. The corner of Eslow’s eyes twitched.

“If I really don’t matter, then go ahead. Kill me.”

“You think I can’t?”

“Oh, you absolutely could. But...”

Keter’s eyes shimmered violet under the moonlight.

“I don’t think killing me would be a worthwhile act for you, my lord.”

Silence fell.

Drip. Drip.

Only the sound of blood hitting the floor echoed.

Even with blood dripping from a wound on the most vital spot of the human body—his throat—even in a situation where one small movement of Eslow’s hand would mean instant death, regardless of power, fame, or status, Keter did not tremble.

Instead, his violet eyes glowed faintly in the darkness as he met Eslow’s gray eyes head-on.

“...You’re a strange one.”

Eslow withdrew the black double-edged axe. When he flicked his hand, the other weapons vanished as well.

Keter casually brushed a hand over his bleeding neck, and the blood stopped flowing.

Hands clasped behind his back, Eslow said, “Tell me why you came to see me.”

“I’ve come to collect my reward.”

“Reward?”

“For treating Ryze, of course.”

“The fact that Sefira was permitted to stay in my palace is the reward. Surely, you understand that such generosity is already more than you deserve?”

To stay in Eslow’s palace—something that no one in history had been allowed to do—was an achievement that would shake not only domestic nobility, but foreign powers as well.

But Keter, with his usual nonchalant expression, replied, “When did I ever say that was the reward I asked for?”