I Became the Martial God's Youngest Disciple

“Take this.”

I took the dark bracelet with no special pattern that Assad handed me. Its surface was so smooth that it could almost slip from a person’s grasp. It looked like metal, yet it felt nearly weightless. It wasn’t an ordinary item.

“If you fasten that onto Lise Ladygoth, she will be able to leave the underground library. The time limit is exactly one day. If she exceeds that time... No, never mind.” Assad shook his head. “She will know the penalty without me saying it. The spell is engraved on the inside of the bracelet.”

“About Father...” I felt sorry for Lise, but I set the bracelet aside and changed the topic. “I heard he will be sent on a mission within a few days.”

Assad fell silent.

I held his gaze and pressed, “Is that the conclusion the elders reached?”

“Don’t jump to rash conclusions. This is the best course for us.”

“Is it best to send him to a battlefield like this? What was said at the meeting to justify that decision? There are plenty of people in the family in good health. It isn’t as if we lack talented people,” I said.

“You are right. The Badnikers aren’t a family that lacks talent.”

“Then why?” I asked.

“Because their performance is completely different from Delac’s. What the world wants now isn’t the reputation of a Badniker. It's the Iron-Blooded Lord's reputation. Don’t you understand the difference? Delac already carries too much. No one else can take his place,” Assad said flatly.

“Does that mean that the top priority is to show that the Iron-Blooded Lord is still alive, even if it risks his life?” I questioned, incredulous.

“Delac’s life has always been like this. Nothing has changed.”

The conversation was going nowhere, and irritation crept into my voice. “Then it should change.”

I was starting to forget that the man before me was both an elder and an Archmage.

“You know nothing about Delac,” Assad said evenly.

For a moment, I did not understand. Then, a hollow laugh escaped me. I had heard something similar when I was talking about Lise Ladygoth.

“You seem to be fond of saying that I know nothing, but I could say the exact same to you. Tell me what you do know,” I shot back.

Assad sighed. “I never expected you to speak like this. Why are you so rude? Have you lost all sense of fear?”

“Apologies, but if I don’t speak this way, you won’t say anything at all, will you?”

Assad fell quiet, as if my words had hit the mark.

After a moment, he said, “You told me that you saw Delac’s younger self at the academy.”

“Yes.”

“How was he?” he asked.

What did he mean by that?

I searched my memory and answered, “It was a bit unexpected. He didn’t seem like the father I knew. Of course, it isn’t my place to judge, and people’s personalities tend to change over time. Still, compared to how he is now, he felt like a completely different person.”

Assad nodded.

“There is no need to speak of Delac’s talent. In all my years, I have never seen a jewel shine brighter. Perhaps I had the rare fortune of witnessing, up close, an existence that may never appear again in human history. But...” He pressed his lips together, as if weighing his words or gathering his thoughts. “The old Delac had one flaw. It might have meant nothing for an ordinary man, but for him, it was a flaw that had to be resolved before he could be reborn as a hero.”

“What was it?”

“His very nature. Delac couldn’t escape it. He felt too deeply, and his heart was weak. It's even worse than Dolber Badniker's condition right now,” Assad replied.

I blinked in surprise. This was the last thing I expected to hear about the Iron-Blooded Lord. I studied Assad's face for any sign of deception, but found none.

“It's hard to believe,” I remarked.

“Right. The Delac you know is the emotionless Iron-Blooded Lord, a man who devoted his life to hunting church members and defeating demons. How could such a weak boy become that man? It happened almost overnight,” Assad said.

I almost blurted out, "Did he regress?"

Of course, that was impossible.

Instead, I voiced the next likely thought. “Was it the blessings?”

“That’s right. The reason he became the Iron-Blooded Lord is that he no longer had a heart.”

It didn’t mean that he literally lacked a heart. During the treatment process, I had confirmed the presence of one inside the Iron-Blooded Lord.

A brief silence followed before Assad spoke again. “I am certain that the Iron-Blooded Blessing is the defining core of the Iron-Blooded Lord's existence.”

“What kind of ability does it grant?” I asked.

“Ability? Nothing of the sort. It doesn’t improve his physique or support his powers. On the contrary, the bearer gradually becomes numb to emotions until they disappear completely. He can look at his family and relatives without affection. Only the assigned mission becomes his highest priority.”

I let out a sharp laugh. “That's a blessing? Isn’t it a curse?”

“The line between a blessing and a curse is thinner than a piece of paper.”

A mage’s unique, abstract way of speaking grated on me even more than usual.

“You are saying it castrates his personality. How is that any different from turning a normal person into a combat puppet? He carries the title of family head, but in reality, isn’t he just a tool to restore the family?” I argued.

Assad fell silent again.

Has he nothing to say? A faint sense of guilt and self-reproach flickered across his face, but even that felt hypocritical to me.

My temper flared. So the Iron-Blooded Lord is indifferent to everything, even his own family, and judges them only by their usefulness.

I was angry at the realization that it wasn’t his true nature or intention, but the result of a blessing. I was also annoyed with myself for avoiding and mocking him both before and after my regression, all while completely unaware of this truth.

Assad continued, “As you know, no one can choose the blessing they receive. However, a person can choose whether to use it. Delac chose this. He wanted to cast aside his weak temperament.”

I cut him off. “A twelve-year-old child made that choice, Sir Assad. You must’ve lived for so long that you have forgotten what it's like to be twelve. No matter how intelligent or mature he seemed, twelve is still too young to fully understand right from wrong. He was bound to be pushed by the expectations of those around him, especially adults. Are you certain that choice was entirely his own? Did your expectations and pressure play no part?”

I stared at the silent Assad and felt a sudden certainty. Delac’s will hadn't given rise to the Iron-Blooded Lord. The latter was a monster created by a family obsessed with achievements and fame, a nest of vile people.

“They say that stagnant water eventually rots. I think I finally understand what that means. I know what kind of family the Badnikers are, and what kind of person you are, Sir Assad.” I looked away from him and left the room without bidding farewell.

The farther I walked down the stifling corridor, the more my anger surged, and the harder it was for me to calm down.

The Badniker household wasn't a place I wanted to enter again.

Has being born in this family ever felt this repulsive and infuriating? Honestly, I wanted no further ties with them. It wouldn’t be difficult to leave the family or isolate myself from it. As I had said before, I could throw myself into the Hero Society, and even the Badnikers would no longer be able to interfere. However, what would happen to those left behind if I walked away like this?

Ignorance was bliss. Now I understood the true nature of the man who was my father.

“It is fucked up.”

With no clear answer, I headed toward the room where Delac was.

***

Delac glanced at me blankly when I returned. “Do you still have business with me?”

I stepped closer out of curiosity and saw that he was reading what looked like a journal. It was probably the records he had kept as the Iron-Blooded Lord.

Honestly, I wasn’t even sure why I had come back. I had no idea what Delac was thinking. In the end, I had returned simply because I didn’t know.

Now I understood what to do when my thoughts spiraled and I couldn’t read the other person: talk, open up, and try to understand each other. Untangle the knots, then accept the conclusions that surfaced on their own.

“I just want to have a chat.” Even I found it hard to act recklessly in that moment. My expression was unusually awkward.

Delac studied me with his usual sharp gaze before smiling. “A chat? This isn’t the time for that.”

In the past, I would have backed down at those words. It would’ve been hard to ignore the pressure behind that seemingly cold tone. Now, I was already at odds with Assad, one of the family's elders.

“Then when exactly is the right time? Will it come in our lifetime?” I asked.

I meant a moment to leisurely chat with the Iron-Blooded Lord.

Delac closed the journal and spoke calmly. “There must be a reason I was born this way. My innate strength sets me apart from others, so I have to take on different responsibilities.”

“Is that an idea the family's elders instilled in you?” I asked, skeptically, as I idly picked at my ears.

A person with power bore more responsibility than others, but that didn’t mean they had to abandon their own life, joy, or happiness. I knew that much.

"Youngest Disciple,what is the meal tonight?"

"Steamed fish."

"I want to eat meat."

"Fish is also good."

"Stop. I’m going to catch a deer. Let’s hunt and eat it."

The strongest person in the world was, paradoxically, the one with whom I shared the most trivial conversations. So what, exactly, set Bai Luguang apart from Delac? I decided to speak with him today to find out. We could talk as father and son, as two men, or simply as equals. If today proved too short and the conversation carried into tomorrow, I would keep going. So long as we spoke with sincerity, I would come to understand something.

I began, “Shall we start with my own thoughts? Father, I want you to rest for a while.”

“Rest?” he echoed.

“When I was cast out of the family, I lived in a neighborhood with my mother. Looking back, it was a pretty good place. The scenery was beautiful, the air was clean, and there was a lake nearby for fishing. The city itself wasn’t small, so life lacked nothing in convenience,” I said.

Delac stared at me blankly. Strangely, his eyes seemed to shine more than usual, and I noticed something new. I didn’t know what blessings Delac had lost, but one thing was certain—he had lost the Iron-Blooded Blessing.

Delac shook his head firmly. “I can’t do that.”

Naturally, I hadn’t come this far to give up so easily. I was just about to open my mouth again when he continued.

“But...” Delac hesitated, then muttered, his gaze turned aside, “I’m somewhat curious about the city you mentioned.”

I stared at him for a moment, then laughed.

He watched me without remarking on my rudeness. He remained that way until my laughter faded.

"Have you ever tried fishing?” I asked.

“I have always considered it inefficient. If you are a master swordsman, you can catch dozens of fish with a single swing.”

I chuckled. “That isn’t the point. The charm of fishing lies in the calm it brings. You watch the calm lake, let your thoughts drift, and wait for the faint tug at your fingertips.”

“What if there is no tug?” he asked.

“Then just enjoy the lake, the sky, the breeze, and the sunshine. If someone is beside you, you can chat a bit.”

“I don’t understand,” Delac said, but his eyes held more interest than I had ever seen.

“What about alcohol?” I asked.

“Naturally, I don’t drink.”

“Ah, that is probably what your memory tells you now. Gambling... Well, you naturally haven’t tried that either.”

People often say that even dog poop can be useful at times. That holds true now. I told Delac about my experiences and memories from my reckless youth. I had no particular reason for it. The Luan of that time, a pathetic fool with no responsibilities or duties, stood in stark contrast to the Iron-Blooded Lord. Yet even those stories were enough to stir this rigid man’s mind.

***

I stayed up all night.

It was the longest conversation I had ever had with my father, yet when I looked back, I could not recall what we had talked about for so long. Most of it had been trivial. I learned a great deal about Delac and found myself reassessing what I thought I knew. Perhaps he felt the same.

Our conversation unfolded slowly, a careful process of smoothing out the misjudgments between us. There had been a time when I believed those misunderstandings were entirely the Iron-Blooded Lord’s fault. However, he didn’t necessarily have to be the one to speak first.

The more we talked, the more my frustration built up. No matter how I considered it, I came to the conclusion: this family was hopeless. At one point, I even wanted to cast aside my surname and live a life completely detached from the Badnikers.

That was no longer possible. I already knew the truth of this broken, crazy family, one that forced all its burdens onto a single person.

A family couldn’t simply vanish. No matter how much I tried to ignore it, run from it, or forget it, the fact remained. I was Luan Badniker.

So what should I do? Now I knew the answer. If the top was already rotten, then I would change it from the bottom. The only way forward was to reshape the roots.

Early that morning, without a moment of sleep, I headed to the Small Iron Hall.

I took a deep breath and shouted, “Haaaaaap!”

My voice, infused with internal energy, echoed throughout the large building.

Footsteps clattered in response. In less than a minute, every servant in the mansion gathered before me.

“Future family head.”

“Did you call?”

“Do you have an order for us?”

As expected of the Badnikers' servants. They were surprised by the sudden summons but didn't lose their composure.

“Yes. I have an order for you,” I said with a smile. “I need all of you to relay my words.”

***

That evening, the Iron-Blooded Lord's offspring staying at the main house received a letter from the future family head.

The content read:

Dear brothers and sisters,

Tonight, we will share a family meal and discuss important matters. Please make sure that everyone is present.

Absences won’t be accepted unless there is a valid reason. If anyone fails to attend without one, we will intensively educate you on good manners and etiquette. Please take this seriously.

The youngest, Luan Badniker.

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