With each step the man took closer, the tingling sensation on my skin intensified.

It was a feeling I had never experienced before.

“This is strange.”

At first, I thought it was due to wind magic. But no, that wasn’t it.

The man who had impersonated my half-brother had claimed to be a wind mage, though I never confirmed if it was true.

I didn’t know any other wind mages besides myself, so I couldn’t be certain about what was happening.

Still, this prickling sensation on my skin didn’t seem to stem from magic. It felt like something far more primal, akin to the watermills or unease you get from instinct.

“This is confusing.”

Though unnatural winds swirled around the man’s body, there was no killing intent in them.

The gusts seemed to escape and lash out on their own accord, as though they were wild.

As he drew nearer, the wind around him grew fiercer.

At first, it only stirred up dust, but soon, branches snapped, and flower petals were torn free, carried aloft in the air.

The falling petals and broken branches left a messy trail behind him, like a path of ruined beauty.

What should I do?

I couldn’t discern whether this man was friend or foe.

Suddenly, a memory of my mother’s words from when I was three or four years old surfaced in my mind:

[It doesn’t matter who they are or what their intentions may be. If someone unknown approaches, prepare to kill them first.]

I took a deep breath and shifted my weight to my lower body, readying myself.

Pulling the axe from my back, I prepared for whatever was to come.

I wasn’t sure of the proper way to fight a wind mage, but my mother had always emphasized one thing:

Kill them before they attack.

Even though my mother couldn’t use a speck of magic herself, that single philosophy had made her the strongest in this world.

“Mage, dragon, phoenix—no one is faster than my mother.”

Before I left home, my mother admitted that she could no longer hold me back, but I knew that was her bias as a parent.

Even though I could use wind to move faster than most, my mother was still quicker. If she ever came at me with the intent to kill, I wouldn’t stand a chance.

If she struck, it would be over in an instant. No matter how strong I was, it wouldn’t matter if I couldn’t react in time.

In that moment, my head would already be rolling on the ground.

Physically, my mother was a genius among geniuses.

“Alright, I’ll kill him the moment I sense killing intent.”

Even if I didn’t sense it, I resolved to act at the first sign of unnatural wind movement. Any unfamiliar action, and my axe would fly.

I tightened my grip on the axe, my body coiled like a spring.

But then, the man stopped a short distance away.

He stood still, observing me, and then spoke.

“Impressive... Your stance is excellent. No wasted movement. It’s optimized for real combat. Helga taught you well.”

“….”

Helga? My mother?

Could he be an acquaintance of hers?

But something felt off.

The man’s accent and manner of speaking weren’t those of a commoner. He spoke like a noble—refined and precise, much like my father.

While Endes’s ruling family, the Pauls, also spoke with noble intonation, this man’s mannerisms reminded me far more of my father’s.

It wasn’t impossible for my mother to have noble acquaintances, but this man spoke the language of the kingdom. My mother couldn’t even use the kingdom’s language fluently.

The pieces didn’t fit.

What’s more, there was something peculiar about his voice. It sounded as though he was holding back tears.

The longer he remained silent, the more convinced I became that he was struggling not to cry. His hood trembled slightly, as if betraying his emotions.

‘What’s going on?’

At the very least, he didn’t seem to be an enemy.

Now that I thought about it, the tingling sensation on my skin had lessened considerably. It was still faintly present, but the overwhelming intensity I felt earlier had faded.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

The man adjusted his posture and cleared his throat before speaking again.

“Be mindful of what you just felt. That sensation is something only those with the same eyes can experience.”

As he spoke, the man removed his hood.

The first thing that caught my attention was his platinum hair, gleaming in the sunlight.

And then, his eyes—brilliant purple, like jewels set into his face.

His facial features, from his sharp nose to the curve of his lips and the angle of his jaw, bore an uncanny resemblance to someone I knew well.

“….”

Would my father look like this when he grows old?

He resembled my father. The likeness was undeniable.

Anyone who saw him would immediately recognize them as family.

“Could it be…” I murmured.

The man’s eyes narrowed slightly, and a faint smile appeared.

“Even your voice resembles your father’s.”

That confirmed it. This man was my grandfather.

Unintentionally, my jaw dropped. I probably looked like an utter fool, as if my brain had shut down completely.

When my father’s personal butler had appeared earlier, it had felt like dealing with a minor character.

Typically, when minor characters appear, you expect a mid-tier boss to follow.

But this? This was like skipping straight to the final boss.

It had been over twenty years since my father was taken by my mother.

She had killed his wife, lovers, and even the ducal family’s search parties repeatedly.

No matter how much I shared my father’s blood, there had to be lingering resentment.

To make matters worse, I was the spitting image of my mother. Just looking at me must have reminded him of everything my father had suffered.

If it were me, I’d feel the same way.

The fact that he appeared here, alone and without guards, suggested he wasn’t hostile. But I was still someone he had every reason to despise.

So why did he come looking for me?

The ducal family surely wasn’t lacking in heirs to continue the bloodline.

Unable to grasp his intentions, I didn’t know how to react. I stood there, frozen, until the man finally broke the silence.

“I am your grandfather.”

I already knew.

“Did your father ever mention me?”

He seemed intent on speaking like a normal grandparent.

“….”

The request for the phoenix feather must have come from the ducal family.

I wasn’t sure what their motives were, and that scared me a little.

But since he wasn’t bringing up old grudges, I decided it was better to play along for now and avoid creating unnecessary tension.

I returned the axe to my back and bowed deeply.

It wasn’t a gesture that matched my rugged attire, but for a noble, it was appropriate.

“Forgive my late introduction, Grandfather. I am Rafa. I was raised solely as the child of Klaus and Helga and have heard little about my father’s origins. My apologies.”

A subtle way of saying, Don’t blame me for my parents’ actions.

The Duke, Ferdinand Valther, chuckled softly.

“There’s no need to be so guarded. While it cannot yet be made public, you are my blood. Today, I came simply as a grandfather wishing to meet his grandson.”

…Is that so?

What about all the grudges left by those my mother killed?

My expression must have betrayed my thoughts, as the Duke smiled and began walking toward the garden.

“Come with me. Time is short, and there are things I wish to tell you. Let us hurry.”

In the garden stood a small table, surrounded by windbreaks to shield it from the breeze. A blanket lay draped over a chair, presumably to ward off the cold.

Clearly, the meeting had been carefully arranged.

But as we walked toward the table, the winds swirling around the Duke continued to scatter dust and debris, wreaking havoc on the pristine garden.

Even with the windbreaks, I doubted the area would remain intact.

“It’s a troublesome thing,” the Duke admitted with a wry smile. “Meeting you has stirred my emotions, and I find myself unable to control it. Despite my reputation for perfection as a mage.”

When we reached the table, he gestured toward the air around me, drawing patterns with his fingers. Then he looked at me intently.

“You have a flow of wind within you. Are you controlling it right now?”

“Yes.”

“Do you always control it?”

“Yes. Father instructed me always to let the wind flow, even slightly, and I’ve done so since I was a child.”

“Interesting.”

His purple eyes narrowed, and the corners of his lips lifted in a faint smile.

“It must have been difficult. Klaus can be harsh at times.”

“….”

It wasn’t difficult at all.

When a child learns to walk, they fall countless times. But once they master it, walking becomes second nature.

Likewise, controlling the wind had become second nature to me.

If anything, the real challenge was that I had focused so much on control that I struggled to unleash its full power when needed.

When I explained this, Grandfather stared at me for a moment, then burst into laughter.

For a brief moment, the winds around him surged wildly, but they gradually calmed as his laughter subsided. It seemed he had consciously reined them in.

“To be shackled from birth and not even realize the weight—that explains much about how Klaus raised you.”

Though his words made my father sound like a tyrant, it hadn’t felt that way to me. There had been no shackles.

“Sit down. Time is short, so let me teach you how to use the wind. For most, learning control is the hardest part, but since you’ve already mastered that, the rest should be easy.”

The Duke’s expression softened briefly.

“Klaus couldn’t use magic, so he wouldn’t have been able to teach you these techniques. Even if he had wanted to.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again, his gaze steady.

“Mages each use wind in their own way. Usually, a master teaches their method, and the student adapts it to suit themselves.”

He extended his hand across the table.

Was he asking for mine?

When I placed my hand in his, he held it gently and spoke.

“Feel the flow of my wind.”

As he said this, a delicate breeze tickled my palm, gradually spreading outward.

“….”

I wasn’t sure what he wanted me to grasp.

Letting wind flow was something I already did.

The principle seemed the same whether using great power or creating a gentle breeze.

The Duke must have noticed my confusion because he smiled faintly and allowed the wind to flow again.

“Focus. When you first saw me, you felt something unusual, didn’t you? A tingling sensation, as if the air itself was moving.”

“….”

“That is a feeling only those with purple eyes can experience. Focus on that sensation and feel the wind I’m letting flow.”

Following his instructions, I concentrated on the wind against my palm.

At first, there was nothing.

But as I continued, I began to sense faint, almost imperceptible bursts, like tiny sparks in the air.

If he hadn’t told me to look for them, I wouldn’t have noticed. They were so subtle that I almost doubted they were real.

Yet, once I felt one, I began to detect others—tiny pulses of energy scattered through the air.

There was something there, mingling with the wind.

A chill ran down my spine.

Walter tightened his grip on my hand.

“Do you understand?”

“….”

I didn’t know what it was, but I was certain it wasn’t something ordinary people could sense.

Swallowing nervously, I asked, “Does this… mean something? The purple eyes?”

The Duke smiled.

“Yes, they mean something. Purple eyes are the mark of the spirits.”

Spirits?

Here we go—full-blown fantasy.

Maybe it was time to seriously consider the possibility that I had been reincarnated into a novel.