Reborn as the Dark General

Chapter 4

The grand family hall stood majestically in the heart of the mansion—an old baroque-style building with black wooden wall panels carved with faint glowing phoenix emblems in the blue light streaming from the arcanic crystal lamps. A long obsidian table stretched across the center of the room, surrounded by high chairs upholstered in dark velvet with metallic ornaments.

The family members were already seated. Some appeared relaxed, legs crossed, while others were busy staring at floating magic screens in front of their faces.

As the main door slowly hissed open automatically, all heads turned in unison.

Aiden entered—sitting upright in the wheelchair, pushed gently by Eri.

His worn white shirt clung to his body, standing out conspicuously against the formal wear and expensive suits of the other family members. His hair was slightly disheveled. A white bandage wrapped his left temple.

For a moment, the entire room fell silent. Their gazes fixed on him.

"Look who finally showed up," Ryn Kael said from his seat, raising a teacup with one hand. "Why come to a family meeting if you can't join the Family Hunt? Do you want to be the cook, or... a spectator in the corner?" Ryn's faint laughter followed.

Calemir, a girl with wavy red hair, also smirked. She tapped her finger against a green magic ring on her hand. "Don't underestimate him, Ryn. He might be able to tend the campfire. Or at least... stand guard near the magic ambulance."

Lucen, the adopted grandson favored by Elder Zerach, sat calmly. Although not of true Kael blood, his power was acknowledged as the strongest among them all. He cast a cold glance at Ryn and the others.

"That's the Elder's decision. This year, he has to participate."

Thalor—Ryn's large-bodied brother—laughed loudly. "Participate? Maybe the Elder just wants to know... if he can survive as bait."

"Let him set up the tent and light the magic stove," Ryn interjected with a soft chuckle. "Just make sure the soup doesn't burn." Laughter erupted in the room, but it instantly vanished as the back door opened.

Elder Zerach Kael entered the room, leaning on a black staff carved with a phoenix emblem. His long black robe trailed, sweeping the floor, and behind him, his personal assistant, Elon, walked with his head bowed.

Zerach slowly took his seat at the head of the table. Its backrest loomed like a throne. He placed his staff beside the chair, its metallic sound softly buzzing as it touched the obsidian stone.

At that very moment, all family members stood and bowed respectfully.

"Greetings, Elder."

Aiden remained in his wheelchair. He didn't move, only bowing his head slightly—just enough as a gesture of courtesy.

His gaze slowly scanned the faces filling the hall. Now, with the Elder's arrival, the family meeting truly began.

The Kael family, as Eri had explained, appeared harmonious on the surface—yet was profoundly complex. An aura of competition and ambition clearly permeated among them, as if each was assessing, weighing, and harboring a hidden agenda.

The highest position in the family was occupied by Zerach. To his right sat Lucen Kael—his favorite adopted grandson. Lucen's face was as cold as stone. He barely spoke, yet his gaze was sharp and dangerous. Not like an ordinary young man. Aiden knew for certain, this man was not someone to be underestimated.

On the other side of the table sat Gavin Kael—his first uncle—along with Calmira, his haughty and spoiled daughter.

Facing them sat his second uncle: Theron, a large man with a stern face, accompanied by his two sons—Ryn and Thalor. Since Aiden arrived, the two brothers had constantly glared at him. They were the type to easily explode, and in the past... often made the owner of this body the target of their antics.

Silence briefly hung in the air.

Until finally, Zerach straightened in his main chair. His gaze swept sharply across the entire hall.

"The annual hunt will begin the day after tomorrow. The location is the Southern Forest," he announced loudly. "As per our family tradition... every young generation member is required to attend."

Some nodded, while others exchanged faint smiles.

Zerach continued, "This year, we will be facing mid-tier magical beasts. The hunting results will determine the winner."

A brief silence.

Then a heavy voice broke the quiet. Theron spoke with a proud smile clearly etched on his face.

"It's time for the children to be tested. I guarantee, Thalor and Ryn will bring back the heads of second-class monsters. They are ready."

Thalor and Ryn nodded in unison. Confident smiles plastered on their faces.

Aiden remained silent, glancing at the three across from him. His lips moved slightly, almost imperceptibly. To himself, he just waited... curious to see who would emerge victorious from this 'little hunt.' Did those two easily-ignited rascals truly have a chance of winning?

From the other side of the table, Gavin finally spoke, his tone calmer.

"Calmira has been training her illusion magic in the void room for the past two months. She doesn't rely on brute force. She'll achieve victory through strategy."

Calmira merely gave a small smirk, not feeling the need to interject. But her eyes flicked toward Ryn and Thalor—full of mockery, as if dismissing them as no match.

Aiden quickly assessed Calmira. Compared to those two impulsive brothers, Calmira seemed far more intelligent and controlled.

Unlike Lucen... the eldest grandson of the family chose silence. He simply crossed his arms over his chest, staring blankly at the table—cold and disinterested.

The Elder finally turned to him. "Lucen?"

"I'll go," Lucen replied curtly. His voice was flat, but audible enough. His gaze was calm... too calm—making Aiden quietly observe him more closely. There was something hidden behind that indifferent expression.

Then, the Elder's eyes shifted—looking directly at Aiden.

Silence once again fell over the hall. Several heads turned. All attention was now on him.

"Aiden. You will also participate this year. You will be placed with Lucen."

A few quiet chuckles immediately broke out—especially from Thalor and Ryn. But the Elder was unfazed. He didn't reprimand them, as if he hadn't heard anything.

Aiden simply nodded briefly.

In silence, Aiden met Lucen's gaze, their sharp stares clashing in the air.

“This year,” the Elder’s voice resonated again, “the hunting target will be mid-tier to high-tier magical beasts. Your primary objective is—their mana cores.”

Several individuals instantly stiffened at that. Even Thalor, who had seemed relaxed earlier, now sat straighter.

The Elder swept his gaze across the hall, looking at each young face seated before him.

“The mana cores you successfully collect will be handed over to me at the end of the hunt. And whoever brings the most… will have the right to ask one request of me—anything at all.”

A heavy voice interrupted, coming from Theron.

“In that case, if I win, I will ask for the Seven-Tailed Fire Fox’s mana core from your collection, Elder.”

Gavin frowned. “I’ve been eyeing that mana core for two years now. Don’t be greedy, it’s our turn to go after the Fire Fox!”

However, the Elder merely raised his hand. The voices immediately subsided, though the tension still hung in the air.

“Only one request. For one winner,” the Elder stated firmly. “Whoever brings the most cores will get to choose first. That is the long-standing family rule.”

Aiden remained silent in his old, slowly creaking wheelchair. He lowered his head slightly, concealing his facial expression. Yet, a faint smile slowly appeared at the corner of his lips—almost imperceptible, but holding significant meaning.

The Seven-Tailed Fire Fox’s mana core... of course, everyone coveted it for its power.

His eyes narrowed.

But Aiden knew—that core was more than just a rare artifact. If processed using the Vritra Monastery's reverse-charging technique, its intense heat could burn away the poison residing in his body. Even more than that... it could unlock the ancient magic seal that had been trapping his energy flow, rendering him paralyzed, almost useless.

Until now, barely a single breath of magic could pass through his left chest. That poison wasn't just any poison, but a form of ancient sealing—closing off all energy pathways from within.

His hand clenched on his knee.

Just one small step. If successful, he could restore himself—returning to being a Nightborn magic user.

And when that day arrived... he would begin his true mission.

To find Alaric.

Wherever he might be.