The Chronicles Of New Havens

Everyone turned to see the newcomer. Elizabeth's face turned ugly. As they say, when the wind blows, the rain follows shortly. Belmond's and Rosia's father, Prince Ranir, was walking over with Sir Roland. Ranir did not need much explanation. His face and posture were slightly crooked. It was hard to call him ugly, but his expressions could make anyone uncomfortable. Although he looked like the common street thug, there was a deep cunning veiled in his eyes. It was a unique contradiction that was hard to describe.

Sir Roland glanced at Elizabeth with a complex gaze. His stance was straight as a sword, rigid and cold. He was Benedict's famous father, Sir Roland Hawken, the patriarch of the Hawken Household! While he could not compare to the likes of Sir Sebastian or the Sword King Sin, his swordsmanship ranked amongst the top in the kingdom! That was a frightening accomplishment! Naturally, the man had heard all about Elizabeth's and Benedict's wonderful tale. Displeasure was putting it lightly already. The wild rumors and criticisms about the Hawken Household's involvement were as numerous as the stars themselves. However, he could do nothing to Elizabeth now except bottle his frustrations.

"Elizabeth, what a pleasure it is to finally have talk to you. Judging by your appearance, you must be very busy these days," Ranir said.

The girl glanced at her clothes. In her argument with the siblings, she had forgotten how she looked. By running over here and crashing into Belmond, her clothes and hair were clumpy messes. Her uncle certainly had a sharper tongue than the debauchee Belmond or the young Rosia. It worked its magic and made feel Elizabeth deeply embarrassed. Her handmaiden saw her distress and began straightening Elizabeth's hair and clothes. Elizabeth glared hatefully at Ranir.

"As for you, Belmond and Rosia," Ranir chastised sarcastically. "You shouldn't bully your cousin like this. Remember, she is the new heir apparent."

Rosia smiled. "You're absolutely right, father."

"She is indeed the heir apparent," Belmond sneered.

"I hope the heir apparent can also apologize for her rude behavior," Ranir said.

Elizabeth grimaced. She might be new to the political world, but anyone could tell that this family was intentionally teaming up against her. By twisting their words, they could sprout something from nothing. Pretending to be aggrieved, acting on the side of justice, while plotting from behind the scenes… All these things made Elizabeth want to vomit. In comparison, New Havens was a lot better. Although the townspeople hated her, at least they did not pretend. They were straightforward. Here though, it was a battlefield carried out in darkness!

Ranir talked about apologies, but did his children apologize? They did not! In that case, then why should Elizabeth? However, if she did not, then she would appear petty. These three could easily spread rumors that she was unfilial or rude. Since she was training to be the next queen, Queen Bethnal had specifically restricted her interaction with the outside world. Aside from Castle Reinhard, Elizabeth had not stepped outside for the last several weeks! This prevented her from ruining her image. Yet, she had no way to defend herself. If they want to defame her, it would be all too easy!

To be honest, the solution was simple. If she apologized and moved on, then everything would be fine. They could try to lie, but there were plenty of witnesses here. It would not float well. However, the easy solution was also the most unacceptable to Elizabeth! Why should she roll over, belly up, because of her uncle? What a joke! To Elizabeth, it was a matter of pride and dignity! But it was precisely this mentality that Prince Ranir capitalized on. Elizabeth was simply… far too immature right now.

Elizabeth fumed. "I don't have time for this right now! As you said, I'm very busy!" She then stormed off with her handmaiden and Sir Winstin.

"I hope we can continue this another time, heir apparent," Prince Ranir shouted with a smile before a dark expression emerged as soon as they left. The speed at which he changed was startling. His eyes radiated anger, hatred, and… jealousy.

"Hmph. That bitch is acting all high and mighty now, but she's nothing more than a common whore," Belmond cursed. "I would gladly pay to see her fall."

"Don't worry, father. Our grandmother doesn't understand," Rosia said. "She's old and senile. You'll become king sooner or later."

Ranir snorted. "What would you know? Come, let's go."

***

Near Castle Reinhard, in the outskirts of Algard, was a vast and green hilly land, populated by very luxurious mansions. It was now several months after the new year, so spring was in full bloom. Trees and flowers decorated this beautiful place, painting a vivid sense of vitality. This was the home of the twenty-five Grand Nobility Households, the power underneath the Royal Family! Each of the twenty-five families had massive plots of land dedicated to them. The scale was truly hard to describe.

For example, Corasen, Algard's sister city, was the largest city in the Alzar Kingdom and housed millions of citizens. Most of the commoners and low nobility lived there in a sprawling network of buildings and streets. It was completely different from Algard, the kingdom's capital. Algard was where the kingdom's true core existed, which is why it was called the True Heart capital. It was reserved for the true peak echelon of the kingdom. The land reserved for the Grand Nobility Households alone was slightly larger than all Corasen itself… For twenty-five families to occupy such a humongous piece of land was simply too exaggerated!

One of them was, of course, the Hawken Household. In the main training hall, that was specifically designed to be a spacious and breezy area for sparring or instruction, the sounds of grunting could be heard. The musty smell of sweat permeated the air. Benedict was in the middle of the empty hall, swinging his wooden sword repeatedly. He practised the same maneuver dozens of times, without flaw, trying to visualize the Hawken Swordsmanship Style in his head. One step, two steps, twisting and turning, stab, thrust, and pull away. Every action was subtle and lethal, utilizing misdirection and feints to achieve dominance. Hours would roll by, yet he would not feel a thing. He would only stop when his hands formed blisters and his exhaustion peaked.

Panting and out of breath, he collapsed to the ground. Sweat drenched his clothes and body. However, he was frustrated. Extremely frustrated! Despite all his hard work, he did not feel his swordsmanship advancing. It did not improve one bit! He could imitate the motions, but the essence of it… He could not grasp. Without it, he was nothing more than a clown swinging a wooden sword. He could not achieve mastery. He sighed. How many years had he trained? How many hours had he poured into the sword? His swordsmanship was still in its infancy! It was barely worthy of being called a Hawken.

His memory lapsed back to his time in the Xingyuu Empire. Whether it be the Yunyun Stronghold, the Kuthong Forest, the battle with the emperor, or even their capture in Port Silic, his weaknesses were put on display. Had his swordsmanship been stronger, none of it would have happened. All their pain and suffering would have been avoided! People say that gold makes the world run, but that was only partially true. What made the world run was strength! Unconditional, supreme strength! Money was nothing more than a pathway to power! The stronger fist was right and the weaker was wrong! That was reality!

So, he trained and trained until his body gave out. Yet, it gave him despair instead. Despair that his potential was reached, that he could not go further… In his family, that was a death sentence. The proud Hawken Household was an old Grand Nobility that was deeply rooted in the Royal Guard, producing Perception Realm combatants for the kingdom. Their strength allowed them to stand alongside the likes of Sir Winstin, Sir Sebastian, and Lady Valentina! Their swordsmanship was regarded as one of the most flexible and dangerous styles in the kingdom! Every Hawken male had remarkable combat prowess and marked history with their accomplishments. For Benedict to be the black sheep of the flock was his father's greatest resentment.

His brother, Lorenzo, towered over him. Even at a young age, Lorenzo was always talented and excelled at swordsmanship. He had already achieved a profound grasp of the sword style and Fundamental Realm Master. After the war's conclusion, he consolidated his strength and pushed forward again to Half-Perception Realm! With another big step, he could reach Perception Realm! One had to know that there were less than a thousand publicly acknowledged Perception Realms in the entire Alzar Kingdom… Compared to Benedict, who was a mere fledging without any accomplishments, naturally, their father would prefer him over Benedict.

Benedict slapped his cheeks before picking up his sword again. He was about to continue when the doors to the training hall opened. Lorenzo walked in with a look of worry. He was dressed in his civilian clothes with a simple sword hanging by his waist. His aura was considerably stronger since Port Silic, having a noticeable edge to it now. Even without actively unleashing it, Benedict felt goosebumps.