The Imperial Scepter of Glory

Chapter 6 The System Ⅱ

A previously inactive button labeled ‘Personal’ was now accessible. Inside, Lintan saw a screen displaying his current status:

Name: Edward Lintan Flagg

Faction: Neutral Good

Faith: Lord of Holy Light, Sun God – Fran

Title: Lower-Rank Knight of the Liverpool Duchy

Race: Human

Leadership: ★☆

Virtue: ★☆

Piety: ☆

Reputation:

Strength: 14

Agility: 12

Constitution: 14

Intelligence: 16

Perception: 15

Charisma: 18

Special Abilities:

Combat Aura: An exceptional gift grants you this extraordinary power.

Iron Will: A soul tempered through the ages has forged an unbreakable will.

The System had finally awakened.

And with it, Lintan’s true journey was about to begin.

Without a doubt, Lintan’s ability to wield Combat Aura was granted by the System. When a person first awakens Combat Aura, it is naturally attribute-less. However, to enhance its power, people have developed numerous techniques. Depending on the training method, the characteristics of Combat Aura can vary. Since Lintan’s aura came from the System, he lacked a proper technique to refine it, meaning its effectiveness would be somewhat diminished.

But that wasn’t something he needed to worry about for now. After all, any Combat Aura, regardless of type, provides a significant advantage over an opponent who has none—even if that opponent was two tiers higher, like Ducal.

"Weren’t you just looking so confident a moment ago?" Lintan smirked at Ducal. "Come on, my dear uncle, our duel isn’t over yet."

"Don’t think you’ve already won, boy!" Ducal spat, his expression dark. "You’re not the first aura-wielding knight to die by my sword, and you won’t be the last!"

He wasn’t wrong. While Combat Aura was powerful, it did not guarantee victory. Battles were unpredictable, and superior strength didn’t always mean certain success.

Lintan’s smile faded—this time, he took the initiative.

His longsword thrust forward, holy flames trailing behind the blade, distorting the air as it surged toward Ducal’s chest. The addition of Combat Aura made this strike devastating.

Ducal rolled to evade, but Lintan changed the trajectory mid-strike, keeping the blade locked onto him. With no other choice, Ducal raised his sword to block.

Steel clashed against steel—neither man gained an immediate advantage. Though Ducal was stronger, Lintan’s Combat Aura evened the playing field. More importantly, Ducal had to avoid direct contact with the aura-infused blade. The energy radiating from it wasn’t something he could easily withstand.

The fight resumed, but the roles had reversed—now, Lintan had the upper hand.

Despite Ducal’s superior battle experience and refined techniques, the presence of Combat Aura was too great an advantage to ignore. The tide of battle had shifted in Lintan’s favor.

Ducal grew increasingly desperate. In one reckless attack, he overextended himself—and Lintan seized the opportunity.

With a clean s***h, Ducal’s right hand was severed at the wrist.

Now defenseless, Ducal could only watch as Lintan’s sword sliced clean through his neck, severing his head from his body.

After the battle, Lintan exhaled heavily, wiping the sweat from his brow. Then, turning to the gathered nobles, he declared:

"Everyone, the treacherous Ducal has fallen by my sword. He has paid for his crimes. You all know the truth—now, I ask you to spread word of his vile actions so that his betrayal is known to all!"

"Of course, of course!" The nobles, having just witnessed Lintan’s awakening of Combat Aura, quickly decided whom to support. Ducal was dead—the only logical course now was to curry favor with the promising young knight.

Lintan felt nothing but disdain for these nobles. Just moments ago, they had drunk and feasted with Ducal, yet now they flattered him instead. He exchanged a few polite words before dismissing them and returning to the estate.

The servants and tenant farmers of the manor, on the other hand, welcomed him wholeheartedly. They had long resented Ducal for seizing the estate. Sir Flagg had been a good master, and they had watched Edward grow up. They had no desire to be ruled by an outsider like Ducal. However, they had believed Ducal’s lie—that Edward had been killed by a wandering knight. Now that the truth had been revealed, they fully supported Lintan as the rightful heir.

After reassuring everyone, Lintan collapsed into a chair in the manor’s drawing room, his expression amused as he stared at a very nervous Baggins.

Baggins, sweating profusely under Lintan’s gaze, shifted uncomfortably before finally speaking. "Young Master Edward, I’ve done everything you asked. Now… does that mean I’m free to go?"

"What are you saying?" Lintan chuckled. "Baggins, you’ve been such a great help to me—I should be thanking you, not releasing you. If you have other business to attend to, please go ahead."

Baggins’ face twitched, but he didn’t waste time trying to figure out what Lintan meant. He took his chance to escape.

He bolted from Flagg Manor as fast as he could, as if the devil himself was on his heels.

Was Lintan an easygoing person? What a joke.

Back in Helko’s tavern, who had beaten three of Baggins’ core men to death with his bare fists, wreathed in Combat Aura?

Even now, Baggins’ chest wound—inflicted by Edward’s aura-infused fists—was still unhealed. The injury throbbed with pain, but what hurt even more was the loss of his men.

"D*mn it, those were my best fighters… I could cry."

Once Baggins had fled, Lintan spat out a mouthful of blood that had been stuck in his chest for some time.

Taking down Ducal hadn’t been as easy as it looked. He had overused Combat Aura, pushing his body past its limits to win. On top of that, Ducal had managed to cut him—a deep wound across his lower abdomen.

Lintan had held himself together in front of Baggins, projecting strength, but the truth was, he had been on the verge of collapse the entire time.

After bandaging his wound, he dragged himself to his bedroom. The moment he hit the bed, he fell into a deep sleep, too exhausted to even remove his clothes.

However, he had barely slept when a series of urgent knocks startled him awake.

Lintan sat up immediately, grabbed his sword, and sheathed it before striding to the door. He pulled it open, frowning at the anxious servant standing outside.

"I told you not to disturb me unless it was something important," he snapped. Being woken up when utterly exhausted never puts anyone in a good mood.

"Ah, s-sorry, Young Master…" The servant stammered, looking uneasy. He had witnessed Lintan decapitate Ducal with a single strike—and the bloodshot eyes of the exhausted young knight only made him more intimidating.

"It’s Sir Garrabron. He’s returned… He insisted I wake you immediately…"

Lintan’s gaze sharpened.

"So… Garrabron is back."

He closed the door, stepped toward the mirror, and began tidying his appearance as he gathered his thoughts.