The Imperial Scepter of Glory

Chapter 2 Edward (Part 1)

Edward's cause of death was a blunt force blow to the head, inflicted by a sudden and powerful strike. And the one who delivered it was none other than his uncle, Ducal.

How strong is a Level 4 knight? That’s hard to say, as strength varies from person to person. Many knights don’t rely solely on brute force in battle—agile techniques are also a favored path. However, even a Level 4 knight without combat aura, as long as they haven’t sacrificed strength for agility, could easily dent an iron plate with a barehanded punch. A knight with slightly greater strength could strike a soldier’s iron shield so hard that the soldier would likely be bedridden for the rest of his life... whether such a crippled soldier would even survive the battlefield is another matter.

Edward, completely unguarded, took a full-force punch to the back of his head from Ducal. He died on the spot. If he hadn’t been a Level 3 knight himself, that punch would have been enough to shatter an ordinary man’s skull like a smashed watermelon. In theory, a Level 3 knight should be able to hold out for dozens of exchanges against a Level 4 knight. Unfortunately, Edward never suspected that his beloved Uncle Ducal would turn on him, so he had no defenses up.

Why did Ducal kill Edward? The reason was simple: the wealth of the Flagg family estate. This estate was prosperous enough to support over fifty soldiers for a mercenary company, including the maintenance of four knights' equipment and mounts—no small sum. Linten estimated that the estate could generate at least 3,000 gold coins annually, and if the lord were ruthless enough to exploit his subjects, it could reach 5,000 gold coins per year. That was no trivial fortune.

After the death of the old Flagg, Edward was the sole heir to the estate. With him dead, Ducal, as both the late Flagg’s close friend and Edward’s combat instructor (albeit for only a week), was fully qualified to petition the duchy’s noble council for the right to inherit the estate.

An annual income of 3,000 to 5,000 gold coins was enough to tempt a knight like Ducal into committing murder. Add to that the fact that the naive Edward completely trusted his "uncle," and his tragic fate was sealed.

The next steps were simple: Ducal framed Edward’s death on another hired knight, ensuring that knight never got a chance to explain himself. Alongside Galabron, another grieving friend of the late Flagg and a squire knight, Ducal executed the unfortunate scapegoat and then submitted his claim for inheritance to the noble council. As for Edward’s corpse, Ducal discarded it in a refuse heap.

Linten hovered above Edward’s lifeless body and let out a faint sigh. He had seen countless tragedies like this in his hundred-plus years of wandering. Beyond lamenting the cruelty of this world, he had no other thoughts. Even if he did, what could he do? A mere spirit that couldn't even stir up a speck of dust—what power did he have?

However, just as he was about to leave, an invisible force began pulling at him. Linten was utterly astonished. Since his transmigration, he had never felt the presence of any "force" before. This suction was so foreign that he failed to react in time—before he knew it, his entire soul had been s*ck*d into Edward’s lifeless body.

Edward’s memories flooded into Linten’s consciousness, fusing with his soul. A splitting headache wracked his mind, and he even sensed remnants of Edward’s original soul resisting the takeover. Though just the shattered remnants of a spirit, these fragments instinctively fought against Linten’s assimilation. But how could such feeble remnants possibly contend with a soul that had drifted for over a hundred years? Despite the agonizing pain, Linten easily overpowered and consumed the lingering traces of Edward’s soul.

The searing pain did not frighten Linten—instead, he was overjoyed. Pain! It had been over a century since he last felt anything at all. Instead of fear, he felt an inexplicable elation.

Amidst the pain, he vaguely heard a sequence of electronic synthetic voices.

"System activated..."

"Initiating fusion system, rejection response within acceptable limits..."

"Fusion complete..."

"Personal interface activated..."

Soon, the excruciating sensation faded. Linten twitched his fingers and slowly stood up. The feeling of having a body again after over a hundred years overwhelmed him with joy. He crouched down, his stiff joints creaking with unfamiliarity. Running his once bluish, now reddened fingers over the cold ground, he felt the icy texture beneath his touch, and tears welled up in his eyes.

"I, Linten, am alive again!" he cried, lifting his head to the sky, tears streaming down his face.

For a hundred years, he had tried countless times to reincarnate into a body, but whether it was a corpse or a living person, none had ever responded to his attempts.

An hour later, Linten arrived at an inn. He tore into the food before him, stuffing his mouth like a ravenous beast. When he choked, he grabbed a jug of ale and gulped it down fiercely. His desperate hunger and frenzied eating left the inn’s server muttering to himself, "How long has this guy gone without food?"

But it wasn’t just the sheer amount of food that concerned the server. Business was business—more food meant better sales. The real problem was Linten’s ragged clothing, barely better than a beggar’s. The server seriously doubted whether this man could even afford to pay.

And in truth, the server’s concerns weren’t unfounded. Linten really had no money to pay the bill. It wasn’t until he was halfway through his meal that he even remembered—after a hundred years, he had almost forgotten that food wasn’t free.

He slowed his eating, partly because he was nearly full and partly because he needed time to think of a way out. He had no desire to turn his first meal after resurrection into an act of theft.

As the innkeeper’s gaze grew more hostile, Linten noticed a group of people entering the inn. Instantly, a wicked smile appeared on his face—he had found a solution to his predicament.