As Orson and Litte neared the family estate, Orson lowered the floating carpet closer to the ground.
The glowing orb of light in the sky naturally caught the attention of the estate guards. However, upon seeing it was the two young masters, Orson and Litte, they imdiately relaxed and saluted them.
At the mansion’s entrance, Orson jumped off the carpet, then carried the still-exhausted Litte, who could barely move, down to the ground.
Standing at the entrance, the butler Albert had been waiting for so ti. When he saw the two young masters return, he hurriedly bowed.
His gaze then fell on Litte, noting the bloodstains and torn clothes. Shocked, he turned to look at Orson.
“Young Master Litte, what happened to you?!” Saying this, he turned to look at Orson, whose clothes were relatively tidy but stained with so blood.
“Young Master Orson, this…”
“Uncle Albert, it’s a long story, but I can assure you that Litte is fine,” Orson said, glancing at Litte beside him.
“Mm, Uncle Albert, I’m okay,” Litte added with a nod.
“Oh, heavens, thank goodness you’re alright, Young Master Litte.” Albert sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead. “If anything had happened to you, the Duke would have been heartbroken.”
“Sorry for worrying you, Uncle Albert,” Litte said with a sheepish smile before following Orson upstairs.
“Litte, go clean yourself up first. I’ll go inform Father,” Orson said, opening the door to Litte’s room and giving him a reassuring pat on the back.
Litte nodded and stepped inside.
At that mont, the maid Vivian approached, her expression changing to one of shock as she noticed the bloodstains on Orson’s clothes.
She gasped, covering her mouth with her hand, and then quickly ran up to Orson, examining him to ensure he wasn’t hurt.
“Young Master Orson, what happened to you?”
“It’s nothing. The blood isn’t mine,” Orson said, shaking his head and pulling two lunchboxes from his spatial ring, handing them to Vivian.
“Here. These are the lunchboxes you prepared earlier. We finished them, and they were delicious,” Orson said with a smile. “By the way, I’m heading to see Father, so keep an eye on Litte and see if he needs any help.”
“Understood,” Vivian replied with a nod.
Orson turned to enter his room to change clothes. Before stepping inside, he paused and glanced back at Vivian.
“By the way, Vivian.”
“Yes, Young Master Orson?”
“You’ve worked hard these past few days, taking care of both Litte and .”
“It’s no trouble at all. Really, I don’t mind,” Vivian said with a soft smile.
“In a while, when Litte and I head off to the Imperial Academy, you’ll finally get so ti to rest. Take the chance to relax then.”
Hearing this, Vivian froze for a mont before nodding silently.
Yes, soon the young masters would leave for the academy, and the mansion would fall quiet once again.
For so reason, the thought made Vivian feel a little sad.
After changing into fresh clothes, Orson made his way to Lucius’s study. Taking a deep breath at the door, he knocked.
“Co in,” Lucius’s authoritative voice called from inside.
Orson pushed open the door and stepped into the room.
“Orson, why are you back so late today?” Lucius asked, glancing up briefly from the docunts he was reviewing before returning to his work.
“Father, Litte has slain a Tier 3 beast in the nearby forest.”
“Oh.” Lucius nodded, but then his movents froze.
“What did you just say?” He looked up at Orson, his gaze sharp and focused, pronouncing each word.
Orson repeated what he had said.
Lucius suddenly stood, startling Orson.
“Is that true?”
“Mm.” Orson nodded. “Today, I took Litte to the forest and left him there alone to see if he could push himself in a life-or-death situation.”
“As expected, he broke through and managed to kill a Tier 3 wolf king.”
Lucius’s hands trembled slightly as he sat back down, a pleased smile spreading across his face.
“Well done, Orson. You’ve done well.”
“It’s all thanks to Litte. He didn’t let us down,” Orson said with a smile as well. “With this achievent, passing the Imperial Academy entrance exam will be much easier for Litte. Now it’s just a matter of seeing how well he performs in the ranking battles.”
The so-called ranking battles involved the top 800 students who passed the entrance exam, along with 200 students admitted through noble recomndations, for a total of 1,000 participants. These students were ranked based on their performance, and lower-ranked students could challenge higher-ranked ones. If the higher-ranked student refused, their rankings would be swapped.
Each student was allowed three challenges, and these battles would begin the day after the entrance exam results were announced. Attendance was mandatory; failure to show up would result in forfeiting their admission.
“As for the ranking battles, based on Litte’s current abilities, he should rank sowhere in the upper-middle tier,” Orson said after so thought.
The story’s developnt had already deviated significantly from its original course. Even Orson himself was uncertain about where it was headed now.
This was more than just the butterfly effect—Orson had practically rewritten the entire tiline.
He could only hope the world wouldn’t try to “correct” itself by targeting him.
Otherwise, all his efforts would have been for nothing, and he’d end up dying in vain. That would be the ultimate humiliation.
“Orson.” Lucius looked at him and spoke. “I don’t know what your ambitions are, but even if you don’t wish to inherit the title of Duke, I hope you won’t publicly declare your withdrawal from the succession.”
Lucius’s reasoning was valid. Litte had yet to establish the reputation needed to be seen as a viable heir to the Stranick family. If Orson were to renounce his claim now, it would undoubtedly raise suspicions of internal strife and conspiracy within the family.
Such rumors would harm the family’s reputation.
Worse still, they might attract opportunists who would exploit the situation to challenge the family.
“I understand, Father,” Orson said with a nod. He was well aware of this, which was why he hadn’t made such an announcent during the last family gathering.
“You’re a smart child, and my most capable one,” Lucius said with a sense of pride. “Though I feel deeply for Litte, I’ve never regretted choosing to raise you in his stead.”
“No matter what others say, you and Litte are both my children.”
“Thank you for always taking care of Litte. From now on, take so ti to focus on what you truly want.”
“If you need help, don’t hesitate to ask the family. And if you change your mind and decide to compete for my position, I’ll ensure you and Litte will have a fair contest.”
Originally, Lucius had clung to the traditional belief that blood ties were the foundation of noble family bonds. But seeing Orson and Litte together had shifted his perspective.
At least when it ca to Orson, there was no need to treat him as rely a foster son.
No matter what the world said, Orson was his child.
“Thank you so much, Father,” Orson said, bowing his head in gratitude.
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