Chapter 41: Confession

In the afternoon, brilliant sunlight streamed through the windows, forming golden shafts that illuminated the entire room. Charles, Baron Buyano, and Marcus stood together, while the other two looked at Charles in bewilderment, unable to guess what shocking secret he was about to reveal.

“Uncle Marcus, please be careful,” Charles said with a slight smile, wasting no words, and ordered Firefly to attack.

At his command, a faint purple glow appeared in Firefly’s eyes. Marcus, who had seemed relaxed but was actually on high alert, fell victim instantly. He stood dazed, as if turned to wood, allowing Charles to press his sword against his neck without resistance.

“Get away from me!” Marcus snapped out of the trance with a roar, his eyes regaining clarity. He inadvertently moved forward, and the sharp blade grazed his skin, leaving a shallow wound.

In disbelief, he pushed the sword aside and touched the cut on his neck, gazing at Charles with an expression of utter unfamiliarity, as if something inside him had shattered.

Charles and the Baron exchanged glances while the white fox lay quietly on his shoulder, as though the previous attack had been nothing but an illusion.

“I never expected you to truly possess such an ability,” the Baron said, standing straight. His wine-red hair gleamed in the sunlight, and his stern face was etched with complex emotions.

“Father, the meteor earlier caused such devastation only because fatebinders were battling. Uncle Niu is one of them—a fatebinder, a frightening power who could easily destroy a city. I followed him and became a fatebinder myself...”

Charles explained everything, half-truths and half-concealments, after some careful disguising. He needed their help for what came next; otherwise, proceeding alone would waste precious time. So he fully confessed his identity as a fatebinder.

Right now, time was what he lacked most.

Marcus stood aside, still unsure what had happened. He only remembered the little fox’s eyes, bottomless whirlpools that drew him in, plunging him into instant sleep. Only by desperately struggling did he finally break free, covered in cold sweat.

Such an ability was beyond anything he had seen in his lifetime. Even a seasoned warrior like him, who had survived countless battles, was utterly defenseless.

If the other party had truly wanted to kill him, his head would have been lost by now.

“Father, do you know of the existence of fatebinders?” Charles looked at him in surprise, not expecting a minor rural lord to be aware of such hidden truths.

The Baron sighed deeply, his face lined with years of sorrow and helplessness. He turned to the sunlit patches on the floor and said quietly, “My father was killed by a fatebinder. Otherwise, how could a general-class warrior simply fall ill and die?”

A memory surfaced in Charles’s mind—a burly man of terrifying strength, respected even by the Lord of Stormport. Yet one day, when Charles was five, the man fell ill and took to his bed, never to rise again... So it was a fatebinder who had killed him.

“Only later did I learn of fatebinders,” the Baron continued, “and I spent much of our family fortune trying to become one. But they said I lacked the talent, took the treasures I offered, and taught me nothing.”

For the first time in Charles’s life, Baron Buyano’s expression was helpless, even desolate, like a child abandoned by the world.

Until now, the Baron had always been the stern and rigid nobleman, someone Charles feared, barely daring to breathe in his presence—a towering mountain, impossible to reach, whose back he could only watch from afar.

Now, however, the man trembled slightly, utterly helpless.

“I could do nothing. At least your grandfather revealed the truth of the world to me. The mightiest warriors are powerless before those people.”

The Baron turned and fixed Charles with a burning gaze, so intense that Charles could barely endure it.

“Charles, I never thought you would learn the truth of this world, let alone become one of them. Go forward without fear—your family and the entire domain will stand behind you. Whatever you need, just ask!”

“I know fatebinders require many gemstones and materials. That’s why I never sold any of our collected gems, not even in our darkest days—hoping one day a descendant might join their ranks!”

“Charles, I don’t care how far you go or what you give back. I only hope you see the world for what it truly is, not like those ignorant peasants who live their lives deceived, as helpless as ants!”

...

After leaving the two, Charles felt a heavy weight on his shoulders, but his heart was warmed. For the first time, he truly saw the Baron as his father.

This man, so outwardly severe, expected no less from Charles than his parents had in his previous life—hoping their children would achieve greatness, offering the best resources simply to help them go farther and live better lives.

It was not greed for a prosperous future brought by their children; they asked for nothing in return, which only made the responsibility heavier.

Charles received from them dozens of gemstones—worth tens of thousands of gold coins!

Rubies, sapphires, topazes, and even two multicolored stones that could enhance a totem’s elemental power.

The Baron had given him the family’s entire secret reserve. These gems would increase the success rate of his totem’s evolution to over fifty percent—a tremendous help.

“Good. I must seize every moment to grow stronger. Within two months, I must reach third-tier fatebinder, whatever the cost!” Charles stared at the box of glittering gems, his eyes devoid of greed, only urgency.

Three months from now, the barbarians would invade. But with his knowledge of the future, he knew these tribes were driven by several powerful fatebinders, forced to invade for their own survival.

Among those fatebinders, the strongest were only third-tier. If he could reach that strength—and command a cohort of ultimate-evolved totems—

Then he alone could rout the barbarian horde.

In truth, in previous battles, the main forces on both sides had been fatebinders. Armies played only a supporting role; if one side’s fatebinder was defeated, the other would immediately surrender—even if they held an overwhelming advantage in numbers!

Thus, history recorded many instances of the weak defeating the strong, or the few overcoming the many—when in reality, it was always the fall of a fatebinder that determined the outcome.

Otherwise, a single ultimate-evolved totem beast could slaughter an entire army.

Ultimate evolutions were known as legion-class—for good reason, as one could single-handedly destroy a legion.