unexpected return

As theodore's soul seamlessly reintegrated with his body, he awoke to the worried faces of the maid and doctor hovering over him. The doctor, his curiosity evident, leaned forward and asked, "Young Master, could you tell us what transpired and caused you to lose consciousness in the library?"

Theodore glanced at the bandages around his hand and crafted a plausible explanation. With a faint smile, he responded, "I spotted a rat, lost my balance, and fell. How clumsy of me."

The maid's concern remained etched on her face, while the doctor, though skeptical, chose not to press further. "I see," he said, his tone resigned.

Stretching his arms, Theodore shifted the focus. "Excuse me, Doctor. Do you mind if I ask something?"

"You may speak freely, your highness . What's on your mind?"

"Back in the library, I came across a theory about an artifact in Skull Head Mountain. Do you know anything about it?" Akira asked, his curiosity feigned but sharp.

The doctor shook his head apologetically. "I'm afraid I don't."

Turning to the maid, Theodore requested to be dressed so he could explore the mansion. Though hesitant due to his recent collapse, the maid nodded, recognizing the determination in his gaze.

Using a stick for support, since his physical body was still weak Theodore began his exploration, subtly exhaling mana into the surroundings. The maid and doctor exchanged glances, sensing the faint energy but unable to trace its source. The doctor dismissed the notion entirely, assuming Akira's curse rendered him incapable of magic.

Skillfully masking his abilities, Theodore summoned a shadow entity in secret. With a mental command, he tasked it with protecting the manor from intruders. The entity, imperceptible even to skilled magicians or sword masters, used dark magic to eliminate threats through their shadows, leaving no trace behind.

He reflected on the old man's teachings, acknowledging the immense power of his dark magic but also the taboo that surrounded it. With a maturity born of hardship, he accepted humanity's greed and resolved to outmaneuver it, trusting in his intelligence and cunning.

His steps eventually led him to a neglected garden of red roses. The blooms, once cherished by his stepmother, Queen Urian, now symbolized her forgotten legacy. Theodore , scarred by his abusive birth mother, had never experienced maternal love. Yet, he could feel the depth of Urian's affection for her sons and the sorrow lingering in the garden's decay.

With quiet determination, he turned to the maid. "I want to see my father," he said.

"Your... your father?" she asked, startled.

"Yes. Is something wrong, young lady?"

The maid was shocked. "Your Highness, it must be the illness. You can't even remember my name," she sighed and composed herself. "It's Amara, but you used to call me Mimi. Remember?"

"Ah,"Theodore nodded. "Right... Mimi. Can you take me to my father?"

Mimi smiled and nodded. "As you wish, Your Highness."

As they walked, Theodore examined the unkempt roses in the garden. A soft smile crossed his lips, a silent apology to the boy whose body he now inhabited. I'll bring justice for you and your mother, he vowed, steeling himself for the challenges ahead.

Mimi hesitated before speaking. "My apologies, your highness but don't you want to change into something more formal? The King and officials are present."

"Just take me. It's only a quick chat."

She nodded and led him silently. Theodore followed, limping with his weak body and wooden stick for support. After a long walk, they finally reached the main palace building. It was massive and grand, far more opulent than the dilapidated mansion he lived in. The palace's walls gleamed in white and gold, dotted with countless windows. Servants bustled in the vibrant gardens, maintaining the flowers, while a fountain adorned with a golden lion statue stood proudly at the center.

His gaze hardened. How can a king let his son live in that dead palace while he basks in luxury with his wife and other son?

He pushed the thought aside as they entered the front doors. Dressed as he was, Theodore strode through the opulent halls. Whispers and murmurs followed in his wake as servants and guards mocked his appearance. Unbothered, he pressed forward, his confidence unshaken.

After climbing several steps, Theodore reached a hallway leading to a set of grand doors. Two guards stood watch.

"Greetings," they said in unison, their voices devoid of sincerity.

How halfhearted, Theodore thought. He addressed them directly. "I wish to speak with my father."

"I'm sorry, but he is busy. You should book an appointment," one guard said dismissively. Then, in a mocking whisper, he added, "If he even allows you to see him."

The guards snickered. Theodore clenched his fist, anger boiling beneath his calm exterior. "My King," he shouted, his voice reverberating through the corridor, "I wish to speak with you!"

His outburst caused a commotion within the room. A powerful voice answered, "Let him in."

Theodore pushed the doors open and entered, the eyes of more than ten officials falling upon him. Among them was a woman in a tailored suit, her expression indifferent. The King, seated at the head of a long table, radiated an unmatched aura. His massive frame and piercing red eyes, framed by golden hair, commanded the room. Theodore felt a chill run through his body, but he stood firm.

Before the King and his court, he executed a flawless bow, drawing astonished gazes from the officials. Even the King, a master of aura manipulation, seemed intrigued. "Greetings, my King," he said clearly, his voice steady and authoritative.

The King laughed, his voice booming. "He bears a striking resemblance to his mother," he murmured, his tone betraying a tinge of sorrow.

The officials, who remembered Theodore as timid and frail, were stunned by the boy standing before them now—sharp-eyed and composed, despite his sickly appearance.

Theodore seized the moment to recount the dire state of his mansion: the lack of funds, servants, and guards.

The King's skepticism was apparent as he asked, "Are you fabricating this?"

"No, my King, it is the truth," Theodore replied, though he scoffed inwardly. Why pretend you're unaware?

"I see. Why, then, haven't you reported these issues before?"

Theodore's sharp mind worked quickly. "I didn't want to trouble you, my King. But as you can see, I'm ill. I need food and money."

The nobles whispered among themselves, their murmurs filling the room. The King, unwilling to let the situation embarrass him further, dismissed Theodore with a vague promise. "I will have my butler investigate this matter and address the issue. You are dismissed."

"Thank you, Your Highness," he said, bowing again before leaving the room. A butler followed him out to accompany him back to the mansion.

Upon arriving, the butler's expression turned to disbelief. The neglected state of the property confirmed Theodore 's claims.

"Your Highness, have you been living like this?" he asked, his voice tinged with regret.

"Yes sadly"Theodore nodded silently, watching as the butler immediately summoned workers, maids, and guards to begin restoring the estate.

As Theodore prepared for his journey, he sat alone in the refurbished study, the flickering light of a single candle illuminating the book handed to him by his shadow entity. The cover was worn and ancient, with a faint imprint of a world map. Inside, it detailed the lands surrounding Skull Head Mountain—its dangers, terrain, and the legends surrounding the artifact hidden there.

He traced his fingers over the map, a small smile tugging at his lips. "So this is where it begins," he whispered to himself. Closing the book, he dismissed the shadow entity, assigning it to continue guarding the mansion in his absence.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Come in," he called.

The door creaked open, and Mimi stepped inside, carrying a tray of tea and herbal medicine . "Your Highness, I wanted to inform you about your return to the Royal High Academy."

"What?" Theodore's eyes narrowed. Returning to school? Damn it, this body hasn't recovered enough, and my skills aren't where they need to be. "When?"

"In a month," Mimi replied softly.

Theodore exhaled deeply, leaning back in his chair. "Good," he said curtly, masking his irritation. That gives me enough time to regain my strength and prepare.

Mimi hesitated, studying his face. "Are you all right, Your Highness? You seem troubled."

"I'm fine," Theodore replied sharply. He softened his tone after a moment, realizing her concern was genuine. "Mimi, I'll need a week of uninterrupted training. Please ensure no one disturbs me during that time."

"Uninterrupted?" Mimi blinked in confusion. "But—"

"You heard me." His tone left no room for argument.

"As... as you wish," she said, bowing low before leaving the room.

——

The following week was grueling. He threw himself into his training with a single-minded intensity. He pushed his body beyond its limits, forcing his brittle bones and weak muscles to strengthen.

Days were spent in physical conditioning—climbing, running, and sparring against summoned shadow entities. Nights were devoted to honing his mana control, his dark magic swirling ominously in the dim moonlight.

By the end of the week, Theodore's body had transformed. His once fragile frame carried new strength, and his agility was unmatched.

One evening, he leaped from the roof of the three-story mansion, landing effortlessly before darting between the trees with the speed and grace of a predator. He smiled, satisfied. This will do for now.

On the seventh night, the peace was shattered by an attack. Five assassins dressed in black slipped silently into the estate under the cover of darkness, their movements precise and calculated. But Theodore had been expecting them.

Armed with nothing but a mana-infused tree branch, Theodore stepped into the moonlit courtyard, his expression calm. The assassins froze, momentarily startled by his sudden appearance.

"Is this all they could send?" Theodore taunted, twirling the branch lazily in his hand. "I was hoping for a challenge."

The leader of the assassins sneered. "You were cursed! You shouldn't even be standing!"

He smirked. "How boring." Without giving them a chance to recover, he lunged forward, his movements a blur. The branch in his hand glowed with dark energy as he deflected their blades with ease.

One assassin lunged, but Theodore sidestepped gracefully, shattering the man's skull with a single swing. Another came at him from behind, only to find a shadow entity emerging from his own shadow, tearing him apart with silent precision.

Within moments, the courtyard was silent. The remaining three assassins lay dead, their bodies sprawled in the grass. The leader's decapitated head rolled to Theodore's feet.

He crouched, placing a hand over the severed head and murmuring an incantation. His eyes glowed faintly as he activated Soul Reading, diving into the assassin's final memories. Images flashed before his eyes—his stepmother's angelic face twisted in malice, her lips forming orders for his death.

He discarded the head with disgust, his resolve hardening. "So it's you," he muttered, his voice low and dangerous. "Don't worry, Stepmother. Your turn will come."

The shadows gathered around the bodies, consuming them until no trace remained. Theodore stood in the empty courtyard, his expression cold as the moonlight bathed him in silver.

——

The next morning, Mimi entered his room carrying a tray of food and medicine. Her steps faltered when she noticed the untouched meals from the past week, now spoiled and covered in mold. She sighed, her worry etched across her face.

"Your Highness, it's been a week since you began your training. Why haven't you touched your food or medicine?" she asked, setting the fresh tray down.

"It's part of my training," Theodore replied curtly although he could stay a month without food because of mana.

"But, Your Highness—"

Theodore cut her off with a glare. Reluctantly, he picked up the cup of medicine and sipped it, though his expression soured immediately.

What the...? His senses flared as he detected a faint trace of poison. He glanced at Mimi, who stood nervously nearby. Who would think to betray me now?maybe she was the reason the original Theodore died.

"Is something wrong, Your Highness?" she asked, her voice uncertain.

"Nothing," Theodore replied, forcing a smile. "Since I'm already dressed, I'll be heading to the market with some guards."

"Are you sure you don't want me to—"

"No, Mimi. I'll be going alone." His tone left no room for argument.

"As you wish," she said, bowing deeply.

As theodore stepped outside, the sight of the newly renovated mansion greeted him. The fresh stonework gleamed, the gardens were vibrant, and the air was filled with the scent of blooming roses. He allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. They were quick with the renovations, he thought, though his expression remained unreadable.

"Well, as you can see," Mimi said beside him, "the workers sped up the process using magic."

"I see," he replied absently, turning his gaze toward the carriage waiting at the gate. The royal insignia of a lion was emblazoned on its side, and the white horses snorted impatiently.

He climbed the steps into the carriage and settled in, his sharp eyes scanning the castle visible in the distance. As the carriage began its journey, theodore suppressed the wave of nausea rising within him.

The motion sickness was almost unbearable—it was his first time riding in a carriage—but he gritted his teeth and focused inward. Weakness is unacceptable, he reminded himself. Slowly, he began to adapt, steadying his breathing as he prepared for the challenges ahead.