The android Byron and Murphy, accompanied by the two knights, returned once more to the Earl's bedroom.
Since the skull-faced Lord Byron began to remember his entire past, android Byron's visage had been modeled after his own recollection of his appearance. As a result, the three present with the Reed family bloodline—Byron who had just entered, Seth standing quietly, and the Earl who had soiled himself—all bore a certain resemblance to each other demarked in their facial features.
Sir Bernard passed the activated scroll, already marked with Seth's blood, to Byron. Pretending to cut his own finger, Byron actually scraped through the external slime to his own skeletal hand beneath. The blood-like substance from the slime, mixed with bone powder from Byron, was evenly spread onto the scroll.
In the domain of life, blood, flesh, and bone are hard to fully separate, typically sharing a reciprocal nature. For instance, a cursed potion's formula that requires a part of the victim usually opts for blood, but a chunk of flesh or a bone would work just as fine.
The slime substitute had none of the properties of real blood, flesh, or bone, so the divine magic inscribed on the scroll promptly disregarded this part, recognizing the smeared bone powder as an acceptable substitute.
Like before, the scroll levitated, glowing with a soft light before gently landing in the palm of Sir Bernard, the Knight.
Bernard examined the divine script on the scroll and said with a hint of relief, "Very good, the results match. You truly carry the blood of the Reed family, and it's no less potent than your father's."
Seth sighed in relief; if Murphy's guest failed this test, he too might be dragged to face execution. Yet he also harbored doubt, wondering where Murphy or that skull-masked gentleman could have possibly unearthed another Reed bloodline successor.
Bernard turned to Doyle. "Do you wish to inspect?"
The black-armored knight crossed his arms by the window. "There's no need. I thought it wouldn't come to this, but since he indeed hails from this family, let's put him to the test. Surely such a large castle has a training ground, does it not?"
Five minutes later, they all stood before a weed-choked wasteland at the castle's rear. Doyle, with a grimace, inquired, "This is the Earl's training ground?"
Seth nodded, "Yes, our current Earl—or rather, my nephew—has always deeply loathed exercise and training. Hence, he has never once visited here since his ascension."
"Very well." Doyle waved his hand, and the two knights following him started clearing the weeds with their swords.
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Soon after, a twenty-meter square space was cleared. Doyle, feeling the heft of the swords, suggested, "Byron, right? I won’t take unfair advantage; we'll use similar weapons. I'll go easy."
Throwing one of the standard-issue swords across the field to Byron, Doyle applied just a touch of force.
Taking a couple of steps forward, Byron caught the hilt with ease and gave it a few symbolic swings through the air, responding with gusto, "I shall give you a demonstration of the Reed family's swordsmanship."
The two men advanced with swords at the ready, and the clash of their blades resounded like the ringing of a smith's anvil.
Murphy, with time to kill, pulled up the attribute panels of those present, hoping to see something unusual to pass the time.
Byron's basic attributes and skills were unchanged, only his level had reverted to twenty, back to his original state.
In the buff section appeared a short-term state named 'Elevated', which increased all attributes by ten percent. Murphy figured it must be due to Byron's return home, causing him to lose some composure, more reminiscent of his life persona.
On the other hand, Doyle’s panel was rather interesting:
At level thirty-five, he should dominate Byron, but either he lacked finesse, or he had indeed held back as he'd said. Currently, their bout seemed evenly matched.
Under the attributes section, Murphy noticed Doyle’s current profession:
Warrior—Knight—Great Knight
Murphy thought, wow, this guy's committed to physical damage output, a true bruiser.
Down in the status section, Doyle benefited from a permanent buff named 'Family Honor', which boosted all attributes by three percent. While modest, as a steady gain, it would become quite significant as Doyle's level rose.
His title was 'Black Armored Personal Guard Captain.'
Captain? Murphy mused, puzzled. The sacred knight had been calling him 'General' so fondly; why only a captain after all?
Looking at the 'Black Armored Personal Guard Captain' title and the 'Family Honor' buff, Murphy couldn't help but laugh. Doyle must’ve had some pull, no?
As for Sir Bernard, his panel was just as entertaining as Doyle's:
Currently at level thirty-seven, his paper stats were slightly above Doyle's. His profession was Warrior—Knight—Sacred Knight, representing the warrior branch with a leaning towards the 'Holy Trinity' setup of warrior (physical output), priest (divine magic) as support.
In the status section, Murphy found a permanent buff called 'Zealot', which reduced chanting time for divine spells and increased the success rate of probability-based divine magic—a handy bonus indeed.
His title? Not much different from Doyle's—'Guardian of Faith Captain'.
While Murphy marveled at the unseen buffs, the competition in the field came to an end. A sweating Doyle handed back the notched standard-issue swords to his men.
Behind, Byron was also wiping away simulated sweat, thanks to SlimeBrue's efforts.
Doyle laughed heartily, "This gentleman's martial skills are impressive. Even though I held back, his ability to match me halfway shows his skill. He's passed my test. What say you, Sir Knight? Shall we amend the decree now?"
Bernard pondered briefly, then decided, "We can modify the third clause of the decree somewhat. The second and first clauses are out of our jurisdiction; those shall stand as they are."
As they walked towards the Earl's castle study to amend the decree, it seemed the original master of the castle—still under the knights' watch, lying on the bedroom floor awaiting his fate—had been forgotten by all.