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Place: Tea Room

Time: Hours later

The tea room was heavy with tension, like a fragile thread ready to snap at the slightest pull—a sensation all too familiar to Alexander.

'Hm, delicious!'

While everyone else sat stiffly, glaring at him with a mixture of rather hostile emotions, Alexander ignored them and enjoyed the sweets before him while remembering the past.

Though far less chaotic, the atmosphere reminded him of his previous life. Family gatherings had always spiraled into shouting matches, where every minor topic would explode into heated arguments—fun times, in hindsight.

"'Ah, the good ol' times—' he mused, his sarcasm cut short by the eerie silence, '—Guess I should make the first move.'"

Alexander glanced toward his Mother, who needed his Father's continuous support, as seen by the massive hue of calming, natural, divine energy surrounding her. Otherwise, he feared that she would skin all of them alive.

'Yeah, better not look too long...'

Alexander's siblings, however, weren't much calmer—their glares making their anger all too clear.

'Better give them more time to calm down.'

On Earth, his family usually calmed down after a few hours—a wishful thought. Here on Orbis, it was different. Alexander had bruised their pride, which gravity he understood too well.

Had they done to him what he did to them, he wasn't sure how he'd react either. Yet, despite the guilt, he still refused to share his burden.

As for his punishment? Alexander had already accepted his fate, whatever it might be, only awaiting what his parents had thought out for him. In the meantime, he tried to conceal his desperation with the massive amount of food he ate.

"I still don't get what's going on—" Janina said, breaking the uncomfortable silence and making Alexander stop devouring the whole cake. She fidgeted with her fingers, glancing around the room nervously.

Before Alexander could respond, Narsiz spoke up, his voice laced with sarcastic venom while smiling, "Oh, it's simple—" he shot a terrifying glance at Alexander, making him flinch, "—your brother Alex is an evil person—someone who doesn't deserve love or care."

Janina blinked nervously, looking between Narsiz and Alexander, clearly bewildered. She knew Narsiz was joking, but the tension in the room made everything feel heavier than it should.

She swallowed hard and replied hesitantly, "I don't think—"

Lorient cut her immediately off, her tone sharp with barely restrained fury, "He betrayed us—" she showed her fangs, eyes narrowing at Alexander, "—and decided for us to be cowards."

Alexander glanced toward Sarah, waiting for a cutting remark. But instead, there was only disappointment written all over her face. It was as if she couldn't comprehend why he hadn't trusted her to stand by him.

Just as Alexander readied himself to endure this lovely get-together full of beheaded unicorns and acidic rainbows, his Father shifted the conversation.

"A true man seeks no power but responsibility—" His voice was calm but firm, filled with pride and heavy-heartedness.

"You've never cared for honor, pride, wealth, or power. All you've ever cared about is walking a path of your choosing—even if it goes against everyone's expectations."

Alexander suddenly felt a clenching and warmth in his chest, surging as if someone had gently gripped his heart. He heard similar words from the person he once called Father, too, though the memory was faint, worn down by time.

"It doesn't matter anymore what your goal is—the responsibility and burden you've taken on point all toward one path, that of a Knight."

His smile became gentler, with Alexander almost choking on his tears as memories surged from the far past, becoming ever so livelier—scents of iron and burnt flesh invaded his nose.

"As the potential heir, it's a burden only you can carry—and we'll give you the freedom to walk that path. But are you truly ready?"

"Baaba—" He accidentally muttered it aloud, only to quickly cough, "—sorry, I meant dad—" After another moment, he shook the past away, seeing the need to focus on the present, "—what is the plan, though?"

"Freedom means making your own choices—" a casual shrug accompanied his words, "—What would you do?"

Alexander smiled nervously, seeing how it was meant to be a teachable moment. However, because of his uneasiness, his nervous tendency to joke around at inappropriate moments came out.

"Fake my own death? Maybe set myself up in some shady establishment, make some extra gold learning… adult techniques?"

Before he could continue, an invisible force pressed down on him, cutting off his breath and making him bend forward.

"Urgh!"

His Mother, her exhaustion written across her face, cut in with a sharp tone, "Are you so eager to throw your life away, Alexander? You've caused enough damage—this isn't a laughing matter."

Locking eyes with his Mother, he saw desperateness. She was tired, gone the pridefulness he loved to observe.

'I... need to take it seriously.'

As the pressure slowly subsided, he forced himself to accept the seriousness of the situation, seeing the need to show remorse by changing his attitude at least—it was no laughing matter, indeed.

Alexander sighed in relief as the pressure lifted. He awkwardly rubbed his neck, unsure how to deal with the nervous energy inside him.

"I know—" his voice was small and regretful, "—but what else can I do? I've made a mess of things, and I don't want to drag them—" he nodded toward his siblings, "—into it."

His siblings' stares felt like daggers, and the tension was suffocating once he took it all seriously. For once, guilt settled heavily in his chest.

'Yeah, this is the least I can do.'

Before anyone could respond, with a heavy sigh, Alexander rose to his feet and approached his family, positioning himself before them, "This is the least I can do."

He knelt before his parents and siblings, forehead touching the floor, ears pushed down, and tail to the side, showing utmost vulnerability. The tension in the room eased slightly.

"I apologize and am ready to do everything in my power to relieve my family's burden, even if it means I need to take extreme measures—" He clenched his hands in frustration, "—just tell me what I need to do."

The tension finally eased, replaced by a silence that blanketed the room. It was the first time Alexander had ever bowed to anyone. He'd always been arrogant, his ego large. But now, with the weight of his actions dragging everyone down, this apology felt necessary, even to him.

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"I won't promise this will be the last time, but I understand the consequences of what I've done."

Not only had he dragged his siblings into this mess, but his parents as well—especially his Mother. While his Father, as a Druid, was largely exempt from reporting anything to the Count, his Mother had no such protection.

When he turned ten, his Mother would have to report everything to the Count—a great burden.

Even though her oath demanded honesty, it was still filled with loopholes and grey areas, making it lenient and allowing households to exercise tremendous freedom.

His initial writings about the creation of gunpowder were brushed off as accidental discoveries, and dangerous ideas were conveniently labeled academic lectures with Anastasia.

Many matters could be ignored, but none that could shield Alexander from what he had done. His actions were too blatant, intruding into matters of external governance. While not solely the Count's domain, it fell under his authority.

"I'll take whatever punishment is necessary, so long as it spares everyone I love, even if it means slaving away for fifty years in some mine."

His words were but wishful thinking. Deep down, Alexander knew that his family would still suffer even if he bore all the responsibility. Moorgrel's system didn't just punish individuals; it punished entire households, ensuring everyone shared the burden of the perpetrator.

This was how he kept his Knights in line—loyal monsters, always teetering on the edge of madness thanks to demonic energy.

Even his Grandmother, openly disgusted by the Count's dealings with Mal-Gil, knew that one severe misstep could damn not just her but her entire bloodline. It forced her—and everyone else—into submission.

This was also why marriage was mandatory. It bound bloodlines together, spreading punishment across every family member and keeping them all tethered to each other's fate.

"I... argh, why?!"

As Sarah attempted to stand, obviously wanting to share his responsibility, she was immediately forced back down by an unseen pressure. This time, his Mother's voice was more composed and almost gentle.

"I don't want to hear any more about what happened or who's at fault. Let me tell you what we decided on—" Alexander felt a calm gaze on him, "—you alone will bear the responsibility. Not out of vengeance or spite, but because it's the only way to make the best of the situation for everyone."

As Sarah sat down again, Alexander tried to rise, but his Mother's words held him still in place. He didn't dare to move, and his posture showed still utmost submission.

"Humility is a rare virtue, Alex—and it's one you need more than most. With some luck, this whole disaster could become a blessing for your growth—" She smiled at him amiably, "—The Trial of Redemption is our solution."

Alexander stood slowly up and walked back to the couch, "Trial of Redemption?" He racked his mind, but no law came to him.

"There's no such law."

His Mother crossed her legs, her tone matter-of-fact, "It's not a law, but a custom. Nobles can redeem themselves through a trial—an atonement for despicable crimes..."

The Trial of Redemption was designed to absolve a noble of their crimes and maintain internal harmony while creating accountability to external parties.

Moorgrel had too many enemies to risk internal conflicts or disputes with its allies. Prolonged investigations could ignite tensions and reveal cracks in its foundation that no one wanted to be exposed.

"So, what does it mean for me? What will my Trial of Redemption look like?"

His Mother's explanation made the trial sound almost like a get-out-of-jail-free card, but he knew it wouldn't be that simple. The fact that his Grandmother had nearly been broken by her own trial was proof enough of its severity.

However, if he succeeded, his siblings would be spared—it was the perfect solution.

His Father shook his head, "First, you need to be officially titled nobility or be coronated as heir. Second, the Count will decide the nature of the trial."

Alexander glanced at his siblings, trying to read their reaction. They had agreed to the plan with their silence, understanding its logic. Otherwise, their stubbornness in sharing the responsibility would have caused even more problems.

Before Alexander could continue, Narsiz spoke up, his voice full of frustration, making Alexander rethink his previous thoughts.

"I understand the reasoning, but can't one of us be the heir instead?"

Their Mother sighed, showing the same frustration toward him, "You may not understand, but the Trial of Redemption requires someone with exceptional will. Alexander is the only one capable of enduring it without ending like my sister."

Lorient and Sarah wanted to argue, but they couldn't, their frustration showing alike. They both knew Alexander was the best choice since he lived through Outer Circle and had the necessary endurance.

By now, they also realized that raw strength wasn't the deciding factor. Even though Alexander had broken down many times before, he was still the most suitable for this as he persevered.

Grumbling under their breath, they gave in while Alexander leaned back on the couch, one leg over the other, feeling a little proud that he was the best choice to suffer through the trial—undeniably an odd sensation.

"Gotcha, so nothing really changes. You'll make me the heir, inform the Count when I'm ten, and I'll go through with whatever punishment is necessary to clear our name."

His Mother smirked, an air of mischief swirling around her.

"First of all, I've already informed the Count."

"Sure—" Alexander blinked, taken aback, "—wait, what?"

She shrugged, making Alexander panic. His mind blanked, and he couldn't understand why she did it. Fortunately, she saw how he became more distressed by the moment, finally revealing the reason with a playful tone.

"The Trial of Redemption is about showing remorse. The sooner you report it, the more lenient the Count will be. He'll be more willing to pardon you if you show genuine honesty."

Alexander couldn't help the scowl forming on his face the more he thought about it, 'Right, I forgot.'

She trusted their Master, while Alexander felt the opposite—a belief he held onto since his time on Earth. He distrusted the regime while loving the people and land.

Despite his repulsiveness, he immediately understood her intentions, which also made sense. The more goodwill he received from the Count, the better his chances would be to not go through the harshest of trials.

"I get it—" he muttered, still uneasy about being at someone else's mercy, "—So, when's the actual ceremony?"

Before his parents could respond, Sarah spoke up for the first time, her tone forced and solemn, "There won't be one until you earn the necessary military merits."

Alexander turned toward her, becoming overly dramatic, "You do love m—" He coughed to cover up the sarcasm that almost made it through, "—Ahem! Fine. How do I get any, then?"

He looked back at his parents, having difficulty taking such a requirement seriously, "Is there a battlefield somewhere I can just stroll onto or an occupied island I could take over?"

Alexander didn't see this as a challenge since he had military experience from his previous life. While he didn't have a leading or managerial role, he was still a specialist and well-informed regarding strategy and tactics.

Adding his wealth to this equation would make it a straightforward victory, with him blitzkrieging the enemy with overwhelming power and numbers while trying to mount an assassination before setting foot anywhere.

His Father's sudden smile interrupted his thoughts—a mischievous one that made Alexander feel uneasy.

"While you may be ready to take over some territory, we'll decide where you go—and where you won't."

It suddenly clicked, 'They haven't punished me yet.'

Punishing Alexander wasn't easy. They didn't want to hinder his growth, and physical pain wasn't effective since he was exposed to it daily while isolating him would only stunt his social skills further, which were already an issue he acknowledged.

"First, you'll lead an operation to take over the island assigned to Lila, the little fire-djinn girl."

He was already planning to support Lila. Racist as she was, she had proven to be a strong and trustworthy ally.

"Second—" his Mother added, "—you'll need to bargain for at least a third of the land. And no, your siblings won't help you with the negotiations. You'll lead the talks alone."

Alexander crossed his arms, sarcasm slipping through again, "Got it. And while I'm at it, should I also aim for the Emperor's throne? This is getting ridiculous."

His Father remained unfazed, shrugging, "If you fail, I'll have Lila's little gamble crumble to dust."

It was becoming clear that they wanted him to grow in areas beyond combat. They needed him to face leaders and situations where his usual snark and manipulation wouldn't work—an impossible task, perhaps, but one they were set on.

Alexander glared at his Father, "I get it. What's next? Are you going to tie me to a boar and blindfold me while on the battlefield?"

His Mother's smirk widened, and he braced himself for whatever was coming next.

"Third, you won't use your personal assets. What we give you will be what you will use—far less than what you're used to."

Alexander relaxed slightly. Even without much gold, he had people who were highly loyal to him, ready to dive into combat.

He could always find other ways to overwhelm the enemy if push came to shove, even if that meant mercilessly getting the territory—Vietnam style. Still, the ominous feeling lingered, and he couldn't shake it off.

"Fourth—" his Father continued, "—the mutt won't be helping you. If she steps in to defend you, the operation is over. You'll return home and join another campaign as a subordinate under some inexperienced youth."

Alexander frowned, clearly not thrilled with that condition, but he couldn't argue with their logic. They needed to correct his behavior, making him more humble and thoughtful of his actions.

"The fifth and final point—" his Mother said, her voice gaining a more sinister edge, "—is that you won't be doing this alone."

Alexander raised an eyebrow, the unease creeping back, "Obviously, I'll have my troops, right?"

His Mother shook her head, her smile turning more devilish, showing her fangs slightly, "Remember that exchange you planned? The one where all those youths will visit you?"

Alexander nodded cautiously. He had sent out invitations across the East for the pseudo-ball, expecting an exchange of techniques, skills, and friendships.

"I do—" The sensation he felt became more palpable, "—What about it?"

Her smile widened, and he recoiled slightly, sensing that this was about plain vengeance, "Remember how you gave me the letters to send out?—" her tone poisonously sweet, "—Well, I didn't. I rewrote them to be a little more... exciting."

Alexander's eyes widened, "What did you do?"

"You see Alex—" her eyes sparkled with mischief, "—many of our younglings need military merits too, and killing wild demons doesn't count. So, when you go, they'll join you—and you'll lead them."