Cole spent the three hardest years of his life in this conflicted state of mind.
When news of Big Brother reached the streets, it wasn't just Cole—everyone in the Ross Trading Guild rejoiced.
It was from that mont that Cole realized: if there was anything in this world that truly mattered to his elder brother, it was probably only their parents.
As long as their parents were alive, even if the bond between him and his brother was weak, Big Brother would care for him out of respect for their parents.
It was precisely because of this that, upon arriving in Locke City, Cole had always treated their parents with utmost respect.
He knew that if he ever slighted their parents, Big Brother would never show him a kind face.
After their parents passed, Cole returned to the mindset he had decades ago.
There was no choice—he once knew that as long as their parents lived, he would always be Big Brother's younger sibling.
But now, the bond between them had been severed, and Cole didn't know how much he still mattered to Big Brother.
"Don't bla , Big Brother… I don't want this either…"
"But I'm scared…"
Slowly rising from the chair in the eting room, Cole clasped his hands behind his back and stepped from the shadows into the sunlight by the doorway.
No one wants to live perpetually in soone else's shadow.
Everything done to escape it is worth the effort.
On the surface, everything in Locke's Territory seed unchanged.
Yet, for so unknown reason, strange traveling rchants had appeared.
Their carts were lightly loaded, and wherever they arrived, they didn't rush to sell their goods or purchase local specialties. Instead, they walked around holding a white pearl.
Because they caused no disturbances and offered slightly higher prices for trade, the villagers didn't think much of them.
They crossed mountains and lakes…
Wherever people lived within Locke Territory, their footprints could be found.
Gelmu City was the fief of Viscount Gasco.
Though smaller than Locke City, its luxury rivaled that of Locke City.
After all, Locke Territory was now overseen by Cole, the younger brother of Duke Locke.
Although Cole was Duke Locke's brother, he had not been granted a title, so technically, he remained a commoner.
Yet, out of respect for Duke Locke, no one looked down on Cole.
Without a proper title, one's word carries no weight.
Even if he managed Locke Territory, Cole could not live lavishly without Duke Locke's approval.
Gasco had no such worries.
As a viscount personally appointed by Duke Locke, as long as he paid sufficient taxes to Locke Territory each year, he ruled his fief like a king.
After toiling for most of his life, wasn't this what he had been working toward?
Yet, as ti passed, Gasco grew increasingly fearful of death.
This fear explained why, when people from the Radiant Temple approached him, he didn't refuse—and why he dragged the other four allied brothers into their sche.
He believed that faced with such temptation, the other four would make the sa choice as him.
In fact, events unfolded exactly as he expected.
No elderly ninth-level warrior could resist the temptation of ascending to Sanctuary.
Moreover, to prevent being hunted down by Duke Locke should their plan fail, the five brothers decided to involve Duke Locke's younger brother, Cole, in their sche.
Although this delayed the mont they could beco Sanctuaries, at least everyone's safety was sowhat ensured.
Becoming a Sanctuary was about gaining more ti to enjoy life—not rushing toward death.
Stepping out of his bedroom, Gasco opened the door, glimpsing two fair, delicate figures beneath the white curtains.
After Gasco left, the colored maids ca forward to close the doors, ensuring no indiscretions were exposed.
Gasco walked through the manor with his hands clasped behind his back.
Reaching a courtyard, he paused, watching the youths diligently training.
"Youth… how wonderful…"
Ninth-level warriors could live up to five hundred years.
Gasco, however, was nearly four hundred years old.
With age, he felt that his pri would last at most another decade or two.
After that, his condition would inevitably decline, and his strength would drop dramatically.
Even more distressing was the maddening awareness of the passing of ti.
At that mont, the viscount's steward quietly approached and whispered sothing into Gasco's ear.
"Really?"
Hearing this, Gasco's eyes glimred with excitent.
Without waiting further, he strode toward the study.
"Viscount Gasco."
Inside the study, two people stood by the desk. The older of the two imdiately knelt upon seeing Gasco, bowing deeply.
"Greetings, Viscount Gasco."
The young girl behind him copied the gesture, bowing to Gasco as well.
Gasco said nothing, instead anxiously stepping toward the older man.
"Quickly, show ."
"Yes, Viscount Gasco."
The man drew a white pearl from his chest, faintly glowing with white light.
Gasco held it in his hand, feeling its warmth.
He slowly approached the girl with the pearl in hand.
As he drew near, the pearl's white light intensified, and its temperature rose.
"It's real!"
Overwheld with excitent, Gasco stepped back slowly.
The farther he moved from the girl, the dimr and cooler the pearl beca.
After several trials, Gasco's gaze toward the girl burned ever brighter.
Never before had the prospect of becoming a Sanctuary felt so within reach.
For a mont, Gasco's mind wandered, imagining the life that awaited him as a Sanctuary.
(End of Chapter)
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