Tyler was surprised. "What? You are one of them?"

Grone nodded. "Yes, I am. I know what you're thinking. I don't look anything like a hero's descendant, am I right?"

Tyler looked up at Grone, considering. "No. I mean, I've never met one before, so I wouldn't know."

Grone chuckled, a low, bitter sound. "I bet you would know if you met one. They're entitled bastards, every one of them," he said, a hint of anger coloring his voice.

Tyler looked at him with a confused expression. Grone said, his voice softening slightly, "I know this sounds confusing, with everything I've told you. I told you the hero's descendants were strong, that they all had high levels, that they leveled up faster than normal people. But you'd ask yourself, 'Why am I so weak, yet I claim to be a hero's descendant?'"

He paused, studying Tyler's face. "If you really want to know, you'll have to listen to a very long story, and it's going to get dark pretty soon. Are you willing to hear it?"

Tyler nodded, his curiosity piqued. "Yes, I want to hear your story."

Grone took a deep breath. "Alright then. I guess I'll start from the beginning. It was forty years ago. I was born in the kingdom of Vainstrea, one of the great kingdoms here in the south."

*Forty years ago? Grone is older than I thought,* Tyler mused, surprised.

"As you might think, there was a celebration upon my day of birth. My father, Alexander Tyranny, was very happy, and my mother was very happy too. You see, when a descendant of the hero is born, a week later they're usually around level ten, or close. But when my father used his Uncover skill on me a week later, I was still level one. He wasn't worried; this wasn't the first time something like this happened. Some hero's descendants started leveling up after a month, but it was rare. That was until two years passed. That's when my sister was born."

*(38 years ago)*

In a quiet residential area of the kingdom of Vainstrea, within a modest yet comfortable home, a joyous occasion unfolded. Elara, exhausted but radiant, lay in bed, cradling her newborn daughter. Alexander, her husband, knelt beside her, his face etched with a mixture of relief and overwhelming love. He gently took the infant from Elara's arms, marveling at the tiny, perfect features.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Elara smiled weakly, her eyes shining with love. "More beautiful than I ever imagined," she breathed. "Look at her tiny fingers."

Alexander carefully swaddled their daughter, then reached out, his palm hovering over Elara's abdomen. A soft, green light emanated from his hand, bathing her skin in an ethereal glow. "This is to ease the pain," he murmured, the light pulsing gently. The green glow subsided, leaving Elara's skin looking smoother, the pallor replaced by a healthy rosiness.

The joy of that moment, a perfect picture of new life and familial love, filled the room. The new parents gazed at their daughter, their hearts overflowing with happiness.

Meanwhile James , in the other room, was being fed from a bottle by a maid seated in a chair. That was the beginning of it all. Days later, Alexander Tyranny returned from his guild raid.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

He rode in a black carriage pulled by two strong horses, a vehicle clearly belonging to high-class nobles. Alexander stood outside the open window, his red armor gleaming faintly in the afternoon light, his red sword held casually in one hand. *It's been a week since Ariel was born,* he thought. *I wonder if she'll show any progress in leveling up.*

The carriage rolled into the Tyranny family's yard, the rhythmic click-clack of the horses' hooves on the cobblestones a steady beat against the silence. Two guards stood at the wrought-iron gates, opening them to allow the carriage to pass before smoothly closing them behind.

The yard was a picture of carefully cultivated beauty. A wide expanse of manicured lawn stretched before the house, dotted with meticulously pruned shrubs and flowering bushes bursting with color. Mature trees, their branches heavy with leaves, provided dappled shade. A central fountain, crafted from white marble, played a gentle melody of water, its spray catching the sunlight. Flowerbeds, overflowing with vibrant blooms, bordered neatly kept gravel paths that wound through the space. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blossoms and the gentle murmur of the fountain. The overall impression was one of serene elegance and quiet wealth.

Alexander stepped from the carriage, the cool afternoon air a welcome change from the confines of the vehicle. Joseph, the aged butler with neatly brushed white hair, a well-trimmed mustache, and spectacles perched on his nose, bowed deeply, his left hand resting on his abdomen. "Welcome, sir. I hope you had a pleasant journey and a successful raid," he said, his voice refined and respectful.

"Good day, Joseph," Alexander replied, his voice carrying a hint of weariness but also satisfaction.

"Good day to you as well, my lord," Joseph responded. "If it pleases you, I shall have the maids attend to the luggage and treasures immediately. You must wish to remove your armor."

Alexander nodded. "That would be appreciated."

He strode across the manicured lawn towards the house, a sprawling structure of pale stone that hinted at the considerable wealth of the Tyranny family. High, arched windows, framed by intricate stone carvings, looked out over the meticulously kept gardens. As he approached, several maids curtsied respectfully, their greetings barely audible above the gentle murmur of the fountain. Alexander acknowledged them with a brief nod, his gaze already fixed on the imposing entrance.

He entered the house and and proceeded directly to his private armory. The room was vast, dedicated entirely to his collection of weapons and armor. The walls were paneled in richly polished dark wood. Sunlight streamed through tall, arched windows, illuminating the room's contents. The floor was covered in a thick, plush carpet that muffled his footsteps.

On one wall, a collection of weapons was displayed, each a testament to Alexander's skill and accomplishments. A golden sword, its hilt encrusted with jewels, hung prominently, its blade gleaming faintly. Beside it, a collection of exquisitely crafted daggers, their sheaths adorned with silver filigree, were arranged neatly. A longbow, its wood polished to a deep, rich brown, rested against the wall, its quiver filled with arrows tipped with obsidian. These were not mere decorations; but tools of a master, each weapon imbued with a history of battles won and foes vanquished. Other racks held various swords, spears, and axes, each meticulously maintained and ready for use. The air held the scent of oiled leather and polished metal.

He moved towards a large, freestanding weapons rack, its wood dark and highly polished. After removing his armor, he hung it carefully on a nearby stand, the weight of his battles momentarily forgotten in the quiet orderliness of his armory.

Emerging from his armory, Alexander found a maid waiting at the door. She visibly flustered upon seeing him. "My lady has ordered us to prepare a bath for you, my lord. It is ready," she said, bowing her head.

"Right, I must reek of sweat from the raid, then," Alexander said, passing her.

"N-no, my lord," she stammered, "you smell… wonderful."

Alexander quietly proceeded to the bathroom. The room was entirely constructed of polished wood, steam rising from a large, round wooden tub in the center. Benches lined the sides of the spacious room. He began removing his shirt when a young butler with short hair entered carrying a fresh set of clothes.

"I'll take these, sir," the butler offered.

"Be sure to open the window a little, will you?" Alexander requested.

"Yes, of course, sir," the butler replied, moving to the window and carefully opening it, allowing fresh air to circulate and some of the steam to escape. "Good," Alexander said.

Meanwhile, in her chambers, Elara had just finished breastfeeding Ariel. She looked up as her husband entered. "Oh, welcome back," she said. "So, how was it?"

Alexander said, "It was a hydra, so it was pretty tough." He paused, then pulled back his collar, revealing several deep, angry-looking marks on his shoulder. "It took a good chunk out of my shoulder. I regenerated, but as you know, SS+ monster attacks are hard to completely heal from."

"Oh dear, are you okay? You don't have an aching feeling from it or anything, do you?" Elara said, concern lacing her voice.

Alexander replied, "Not really." He knelt beside her, gently moving a portion of the towel covering Ariel's face. "There's my angel. How was she doing today?"

"She's been fine, mostly sleeping," Elara said.

"What about James?" Alexander asked, his gaze shifting to his son sleeping peacefully on the bed.

"He's been mostly sleeping too," Elara replied.

Alexander stood, then used his Uncover skill on Ariel. A surprised smile spread across his face as he saw the results. "You are not going to believe this, but our little angel is a level twelve!"

"What? Really?" Elara exclaimed, her eyes widening. "Wow! She's already an F-rank. Only a few days after birth! Our little angel is going to be strong, isn't she?"

"Yes, as she should be," Alexander said, his gaze returning to his son. His expression, however, shifted to one of disappointment.

Elara noticed the change in his demeanor. "Don't worry about him," she said softly. "He's just a late bloomer, that's all. In a few more years, he will automatically become stronger. He'll be very strong and handsome, just like his father," she added with a smile.

Alexander didn't smile. He looked at James, and above his head, the level one still stubbornly floated.