Swordmaster's Youngest Son Chapter 3: Stormy Days at the Castle (2)

Upon Cyron’s departure from the Black Sea, the Runcandels residing beyond the Storm Castle borders fell into a state of frantic preparation. They were tasked with organizing a reception for the patriarch, who was making his first return from his travels in five years.

“All Runcandel flag-bearers are to assemble at the Storm Castle immediately, with the exception of those currently engaged in imperial mandates.”

The command issued by the Black Panther, Rosa Runcandel, vibrated across the globe like a shockwave. From the Vermont Empire to the Akin Kingdom, and from the Zhan Kingdom to the Curano Dukedom, every flag-bearer of the clan abandoned their posts to rush toward the Storm Castle.

“What could be the reason for this? Our youngest brother’s Selection ritual concluded years ago; why is father visiting the Storm Castle now?”

Ran Runcandel, Cyron’s third son, had just arrived from the northern reaches of the continent, where he had been occupied with the slaughter of monsters.

“Have the guardian knights stationed at the Storm Castle offered any information?”

Vigo Runcandel, the fourth son, asked this question. He had been forced to abort a high-profile assassination contract for a prominent figure in the Curano Dukedom to make his appearance.

The client would undoubtedly be outraged, but Vigo had no choice. Regrettably, the Runcandel Clan provided no restitution to its agents for the loss of income resulting from a sudden summons.

“Nothing whatsoever. It appears to be a matter of high secrecy. Though, it isn't surprising. Even father is making a personal appearance…”

This came from Mary Runcandel, the third daughter, who had been busy defeating renowned warriors in the southern lands.

Consequently, seven of Cyron’s heirs gathered at the Storm Castle, accompanied by a massive entourage of over 200 knights and subordinates.

With such a concentrated force, they possessed the power to raze an ordinary city within thirty minutes or topple an entire nation in a single day.

As the news of Cyron’s movement rippled throughout the world, the global elite began to whisper in speculation.

‘What is Cyron’s motive? Didn't he declare he would remain in the Black Sea for another decade?’

‘Are the Runcandels finally making their move for global supremacy?’

‘How has the Zipfel Clan reacted to this development?’

Cyron, the world's solitary Genesis Knight.

The Runcandels, the offspring of that legend.

The mere mention of these names carried immense weight.

The children of Cyron and the clan’s guardian knights formed two disciplined rows along the staircase leading to the Storm Castle entrance. Beneath a torrential downpour, their expressions were grim. Every individual stood with the resolve of a soldier on the brink of a great conflict.

“Greetings to the patriarch!”

“Greetings to the patriarch!”

The moment Cyron reached the castle gates, a forest of swords was hoisted into the air. Their unified roar shook the mountain peak, sounding as though the earth itself might give way to landslides.

“Mhm.”

With a curt nod, Cyron began his ascent.

‘Father is in a strange mood. Is a monumental event about to unfold?’

The Runcandel siblings traded silent glances, communicating their unease without a word. They fell in line behind Cyron as he passed, their faces etched with gravity. The guardian knights stayed at their posts, securing the gates of the Storm Castle.

None of them, however, suspected the simple reality.

Cyron had come to the Storm Castle for no other reason than to see his youngest child.

***

“Daytona, Haytona.”

“Yes, father.”

Cyron called for the Tona twins first. The trembling brothers knelt before their father, the sound of their nervous sniffling echoing through the throne room.

“Identify the error the two of you committed.”

Jin, waiting in his chambers with Gilly, was unable to overhear the exchange.

The twins faltered, unable to find their words. As the silence stretched, Cyron’s brow twitched with irritation.

“I ordered you to tell me what mistake you made.”

“Th-That is…”

In Jin’s previous life, the Tona twins had claimed their first victim at age ten, immediately after departing the Storm Castle. As they matured, they became homicidal fanatics, killing fifty people annually on average.

But at this moment, they were merely nine-year-old boys.

They were at an age where their father was a figure of absolute terror. Indeed, ‘strict’ was far too mild a word for a man like him.

Furthermore, their father was demanding they confess to a failure.

They had been beaten by their younger brother. If there was blame to be cast, they felt it belonged to Jin.

The twins had conveniently forgotten their own history of bullying their brother.

Reaching a conclusion, the Tona twins steeled themselves.

“We have made no mistake.”

Daytona spoke up, summoning his courage. Cyron rested his chin on his hand, waiting for the boy to continue.

“Jin utilized an unidentified power to strike Haytona and myself.”

“That’s correct. He employed a force that was not aura!”

Haytona added, placing heavy emphasis on the final word.

‘A power that wasn't aura.’ In this world, such a description typically pointed to only one thing.

Magic.

Had the seven-year-old Jin used aura to defeat them, he would have earned accolades. However, magic was a different matter entirely.

For one of Runcandel blood to practice magic was considered the ultimate sacrilege.

Thus, the Tona twins were attempting to frame Jin’s victory as the result of forbidden sorcery.

“My sons.”

Cyron’s voice turned surprisingly gentle.

“Yes, father!”

The twins replied with newfound hope, like criminals who believed they had found a legal loophole. Hearing the softness in his tone, they thought they were on the verge of winning the argument.

However, Cyron ignored their frantic excuses and spoke with a calm, chilling melody.

“I will provide you with a piece of advice that you must carve into your souls. If you continue to act in this manner… you will never survive within the Runcandel Clan.”

“Ah…”

“W-We are sorry, father.”

“Go and summon Jin for me.”

***

Walking through the corridor, Jin observed the Tona twins as they came to get him.

They looked utterly broken and frail, resembling survivors who had barely escaped the jaws of a predator.

‘I remember having that exact look in my past life whenever I faced father. I can guess what he put them through.’

Even without hearing the dialogue, Jin could deduce the nature of the interrogation.

‘Father likely posed a question they couldn't answer to his liking. It’s hardly surprising, given they are just children.’

This was the essence of Cyron’s method of upbringing.

Calling it ‘education’ was a stretch. Cyron had thirteen children, yet he had never personally raised any of them.

In the Runcandel Clan, nannies performed the labor of child-rearing.

Cyron and Rosa merely acted as observers. They watched their offspring grow, evaluating which one possessed the mettle to eventually succeed the patriarch.

They would only begin to engage with their children once they reached adulthood and demonstrated talent that surpassed the ‘Runcandel standard.’

This was why Cyron’s presence at the Storm Castle was such a massive event.

The siblings waiting in the foyer were desperate to know what was happening behind the closed doors of the throne room.

Step, step.

The throne finally came into view. His father sat there, waiting. Jin approached Cyron with measured steps, memories of his former life swirling in his mind.

‘My father. The most powerful man I have ever known, and the most heartless.’

His mother, Rosa Runcandel, still possessed shards of humanity. When Jin had been exiled, rumors said she hadn't eaten for two days.

Yet, even she had managed to strike the name ‘Jin’ from her heart after only a few days.

Cyron, however, was a different breed.

He showed minor human ticks—a twitching brow in anger or a faint smirk at something amusing.

Jin had heard that in his youth, before becoming patriarch, Cyron had known frustration, joy, and the struggle for survival.

But upon reaching the realm of a demigod and becoming the Genesis Knight, those emotions had evaporated. He was left with nothing but a cold, absolute devotion to the clan.

‘It’s ironic. Even as a demigod, he is still shackled to the clan because the Eldest Brother hasn't replaced him yet.’

Jin clenched his jaw so tightly he could hear his teeth grinding.

He had endured a wretched existence in this clan until his banishment. Even while sharing a meal, his own family had treated him like a ghost.

But he had to maintain his composure. Cyron would spot any sign of weakness or hostility instantly. There was no way he would miss his youngest son grinding his teeth.

‘He might be my father, but I will ensure he can never look down on me in this life.’

Vowing this, Jin knelt before Cyron and offered his greeting.

“Greetings to the patriarch.”

He spoke with the formality of the clan’s adults who had long since moved on from the Storm Castle. He greeted Cyron not as a son, but as a subordinate member of the clan.

Cyron nodded, appearing pleased.

“Why do you address me as ‘patriarch’ instead of ‘father’?”

Jin paused as if in thought. He had already anticipated this reaction.

“Since my elder siblings and over a hundred guardian knights have returned to this castle to receive you, I concluded that the patriarch’s visit was an official matter of state.”

Cyron’s eyes widened slightly.

“Impressive.”

Jin did not boast; he simply lowered his head a fraction to acknowledge the praise.

While such poise was unheard of in a seven-year-old, Cyron didn't find it suspicious. He assumed Gilly had provided excellent training and that his son possessed natural brilliance—the same intuition that led him to choose Barisada during the Selection.

Of course, Jin was no ordinary child. He possessed the mind of a grown man. Even as a demigod, Cyron remained oblivious to this truth.

After studying his son for a moment, Cyron spoke again.

“I just asked your brothers to name their mistake. They failed to provide an answer.”

“Yes, patriarch.”

“I am curious to see if you can do better. Tell me, what was the mistake made by Daytona and Haytona?”

Jin humored him by pretending to deliberate. He had seen this line of questioning coming.

In fact, he had predicted it perfectly because Cyron Runcandel was the type of man who would treat his own ailing children like battle-hardened soldiers.

The answer Cyron sought was already clear.

“It is revenge.”

“Hm!”

A spark of surprise flashed in Cyron’s eyes. As the patriarch sat in silence, Jin elaborated.

“My brothers failed to seek vengeance against me. A Runcandel must always settle their accounts, whether they owe a kindness or a grudge.”

A heavy silence filled the room.

Jin was certain that his father’s lack of words was a sign of profound satisfaction.

To mask his maturity and deflect suspicion, Jin then adopted a slightly more vulnerable, childish tone. He looked up with a hint of feigned anxiety.

“Was my answer wrong?”

“No. To the contrary, it was exceptionally satisfying.”

“Thank you, patriarch.”

Hearing those words, a flicker of something resembling sadness appeared in Cyron’s eyes.

“You may call me ‘father’ for the moment. Although the clan has gathered to greet me, my reasons for being here are strictly personal.”

“Yes, father.”

Cyron offered a faint smile as he looked down at his boy.

But in an instant, the warmth vanished. His face returned to its usual mask of cold indifference as he posed another question.

“What is this unique power you used to best your brothers?”