The Second Son of the Marquis Wants to Laze Around-Chapter 72: Seraf

(Leon’s POV)

The battle continued as I struggled against the Thunderclaw. I thought that after recovering most of my mana and stamina, I would finally be able to defeat a level 5 monster.

But I was wrong.

–BOOM!

–BOOM!

–BOOM!

Dodging and weaving through the monster’s lightning attacks, my breathing grew heavier. My body was starting to feel sluggish from fatigue.

I wasn’t sure how much longer I could last.

–BLAST!

A bolt of lightning shot straight at me. With no time to dodge, I raised my sword and poured my Aura and the Wind Spirit Blessing into it to block the hit.

–BZZZZZZZZ!

But is was a big mistake.

The attack electrocuted my entire body. I could feel my skin burning like it was being cooked alive.

I dropped to one knee, leaning on my sword for support.

"Hah... Hah..."

My chest rose and fell rapidly, every breath harder to take. My vision began to blur from exhaustion.

’Should I just give up?’

I asked myself that same question over and over.

If I gave up now, I wouldn’t die. The senior knights outside the dome would definitely step in and take care of the Thunderclaw easily—it was clearly exhausted too.

’But if I do that, I won’t get a satisfying achievement.’

Yes, I might lose the fight. I might miss the extra EXP needed to level up.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t level up my Signet.

I could feel it—just on the edge. My body was telling me I was ready to Level Up. So even if I lost, I’d only be missing out on some juicy rewards—maybe a new skill or a new ability—but it wasn’t like I’d lose everything.

There was no need to be greedy. Right?

I was the one who accepted the Young Master’s suggestion to fight a level 5 monster. I was the one who dragged my teammates into this, even pushed them to fight by my side. I even had Eren fight the Thunderclaw alone, just to buy me time.

But even after all that... I still couldn’t see any hope of winning!

And yet—even now—I still want to fight.

’...But why?’

As I asked myself that question, my eyes drifted to the sword I was leaning on for support.

A long silver sword with a double-edged blade. Its black handle was sturdy, wrapped in worn leather grips, with a faint gleam of old battle scars. In the center of the hilt rested a small black gemstone, glowing faintly with spiritual energy. Though it looked simple, it carried a weight—a story.

’Ah, right... It’s because of you.’

A weak chuckle escaped my lips as memories resurfaced.

An image flashed in my mind, a young man with red hair and a wide, cheeky grin waving at me.

"...Seraf."

___

(Third POV)

Eren watched the scene before him with calm indifference. His expression unreadable, his eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at the battered Leon. The man’s body was a mess—fresh wounds covered his skin, and older ones had torn open again.

The Thunderclaw stood several feet away, slowly making its way toward Leon. It too was badly injured—its body covered in cuts, burns, and stab wounds—but the beast didn’t seem to care. It just kept moving forward, one heavy step at a time.

The knights nearby tensed as they saw this. Some even unsheathed their swords, ready to jump into the dome and intervene.

Kristoff, standing beside the Young Master, had his hand tightly gripping the hilt of his sword, prepared to move at a moment’s notice.

"Don’t intervene," Eren said in a firm, commanding voice loud enough for everyone to hear.

He rested his chin lazily on one hand, his gaze half-lidded as he continued coldly,

"That’s an order."

"..."

The knights hesitated but slowly sheathed their swords.

Well, most of them did. A few stood still, fists clenched tightly in frustration. But no one dared to defy the Young Master’s command.

[Master... Are you sure this is okay?]

[The guy might die...]

Floating beside him, Useless, asked in a worried tone. It seemed genuinely concerned for Leon.

Eren responded silently, his voice echoing in his mind,

’He’ll be fine. The guy won’t die.’

Useless hesitated, still unsure if its master’s words were true or just blind confidence.

.....

Back inside the dome, Leon remained kneeling with his eyes shut, one hand gripping his sword.

And that’s when it began.

Old memories began to resurface—

Or in other words, what most fictional stories like to call...

Flashbacks!

-----

When Leon was a kid, he awakened his powers at the age of 10 and decided to enroll in a sword academy to become a knight.

Of course, his true dream had always been the same—to make a name for himself, just like the Old Wenzel.

Becoming a knight was just one possible path to that dream.

And the one who suggested it to him?

His childhood friend.

Oh, and by the way—his childhood friend was a boy.

So don’t expect any cute romantic backstory. Not that kind of story, sorry.

Anyway, both of them enrolled in the same swordsmanship academy for aspiring knights. Since they were Awakeners, entry was easy.

They trained together, studied together, sparred every day.

Unlike his friend, Leon was a natural genius. Always ranked first in class.

His friend? Always second.

But that didn’t discourage the boy one bit. In fact, it only fired him up more.

He chased Leon like a rival, determined to stand on equal footing.

Unfortunately, the rivalry lasted only three years. Leon said goodbye, left the academy, and became an adventurer. The reason was simple, it’s because of his family’s financial problems and a lack of money.

"I’m sorry, Seraf," Leon said apologetically.

But his friend just shrugged it off like it wasn’t a big deal.

"Yeah, it’s fine. You don’t need to be sad," Seraf said with a grin, smacking Leon on the back to cheer him up.

"Although our paths are different now, we’re still aiming for the same star, right?"

When Leon heard that, he couldn’t help but smile back. Seraf was right. Even if Leon didn’t become a well-known knight, he could still become a famous adventurer.

....

After they parted ways, they met again six years later in a tavern.

"Leon! How have you been?"

They exchanged a warm hug, reconnecting after so long. Both of them had changed.

"Look at you—all grown up into a handsome young man. Did you find a good girl during your journey, by any chance~?"

Seraf teased with a mischievous grin, only to get a chop to the head.

–Chop!

"You sound just like my mom," Leon replied stoically, his eyes dull with unimpressed energy.

Still, seeing his friend again after so long—and realizing he hadn’t changed—made Leon genuinely happy.

They shared stories. Leon spoke of his life as an adventurer, and Seraf of his knighthood.

"You joined the Valmont Knights?" Leon asked in surprise as he took a sip of beer.

"Aha! I finally got accepted two years ago. The knight commander and the seniors are so strict, every day feels like torture. It’s always train, train, and more training!"

Seraf complained with a flushed face, clearly drunk as he slammed his mug on the table.

"If only you were there too..." he murmured, resting his chin on the table while looking at Leon from across it.

"...."

"By the way, do you really not want to join the knighthood?" Seraf asked calmly, his face still red.

Over the years, while apart, the two exchanged letters every month to stay in touch. Seraf had read about Leon’s achievements—the places he’d gone, the people he’d met. He wouldn’t lie; he was jealous. He felt sad he wasn’t there with him, but he couldn’t abandon his own dream to become a great knight like his father.

Leon, looking both conflicted and calm, answered honestly, "I... don’t know."

Leon’s journey as an adventurer had changed him a lot. His view of the world had shifted. In his long journey—one he once dreamed of, like the his Old man Wenzel—he had seen both good and evil, beauty and ugliness, destruction and harmony. In short, Leon had matured. He didn’t know whether he should continue chasing that dream or stop.

Seraf, noticing the expression on his friend’s face, sighed.

"Sigh... I told you to find a girlfriend—Ack!"

But a mug was thrown at his face, by Leon with dull, unimpressed eyes.

.....

Years passed, and the two would meet again every year in the same tavern. As always, they shared stories. And, as always, Seraf sometimes teased Leon about finding a girlfriend or partner—only to be met with a fist.

"Sigh..."

"Why are you sighing while looking at me with that disappointed face?" Leon asked stoically.

"It’s nothing. I was just thinking... if I were born a girl, then maybe I could’ve made you happy—Ack!"

Leon’s fist landed squarely on Seraf’s face, who groaned and held his nose.

"Why did you punch me?!" he shouted.

"Because you’re being annoying again," Leon said coldly.

"Tch! This attitude of yours is the reason you can’t get—Ack!"

.....

Then, one day during a visit to the guild, Leon heard troubling news about a dungeon outbreak near Valmont territory. The guild had issued an emergency mission to all high-ranking adventurers, calling for aid to support the knights in containing it.

When Leon heard the name of the dungeon—located near Orange Village—he immediately remembered Seraf’s last letter, where he mentioned that his next mission would be there.

Without hesitation, Leon accepted the mission and rushed to Orange Village using his Wind Spirit Blessing. He knew how dangerous dungeon outbreaks were—and he knew Seraf’s squad alone wouldn’t be enough. freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

But when he arrived, the village was already in flames.

Monsters were attacking, and the Valmont knights were fighting desperately to protect the people.

Leon jumped into the battle to help. He cut down monsters, rescued civilians, all while searching for his friend.

"More adventurers arrived shortly after, joining the battle to help push back the chaos. When the dust finally settled and the monster threat was dealt with, Leon rushed through the scorched remains of the village, frantically searching—until he finally found his friend.

"Seraf..."

He froze at the sight.

Seraf was slumped against the crumbling wall of a destroyed house, a massive monster corpse lying beside him. Leon’s eyes widened in horror. There was a pool of blood beneath his friend—a dark, red stain spreading across the dirt—and a gruesome chunk of his abdomen had been torn away.

"SERAF!" Leon shouted, his voice cracking with panic.

He ran over, dropped to his knees, and pulled out every healing potion he had, casting heal spells over and over. But his hands trembled. He could tell... he was too late.

"...L-Leon," Seraf muttered, his voice weak and broken. One of his eyes fluttered open, blood dripping down his forehead.

"Just hang in there! Help is on the way! You’ll be fine, I promise!" Leon said desperately, his magic glowing brighter as he focused harder, refusing to give up.

But Seraf’s face was going pale—his breath slowing.

Despite the pain, Seraf smiled faintly. "I’m... sorry. Looks like... I won’t be able to... join you on the path... to the stars..."

"Don’t say that!" Leon shouted, his voice shaking as tears welled up in his eyes. "You’re coming with me, damn it! So shut up and stay alive!"

Then suddenly, Seraf’s hand reached out and grabbed Leon’s waist, halting him. Leon looked down, his heart pounding.

"I... have a request," Seraf whispered.

He weakly held out the sword still clutched in his hand and offered it to Leon.

"I want you... to take this sword... and fulfill my dream," he said, his voice low but firm with conviction.

Leon’s eyes widened. He knew what that meant—and it hurt.

He knew Seraf’s story.

Seraf’s father had died as a knight before he was even born. His mother had raised him with stories of how noble and brave his father had been, gifting him his father’s sword when he was old enough to hold it. Seraf’s dream had always been simple, yet powerful—to become a knight greater than his father, to make a name for himself, and to ensure his father’s memory would live on in honor and glory.

But now... just like his father, Seraf was dying in battle. He had failed to reach that dream.

So now... he was entrusting it to Leon.

"Please... this is... my final wish," Seraf said with a shaky smile. "Do it for me, will ya...?"

Leon bit his lip hard as he nodded, unable to speak. He gently took the sword.

Seraf gave one last breath of a chuckle. "The sword still... doesn’t have a name."

His hand slipped from Leon’s waist.

"I think you should... give it a name... Since I’m terrible... at naming stuff..."

His voice faded.

And then... silence.

Seraf’s body went limp, collapsing forward—only for Leon to catch him in his arms, holding his fallen friend in a tight embrace.

"..."

He didn’t say anything. No scream, no wail. Just quiet tears fell down his cheeks as he felt the cold weight of death settle in his arms.

His friend was gone.

Leaving behind only a sword... and a dream.

---

Back in the present, the battlefield was tense.

The knights looked at the Thunderclaw advanced with heavy steps, its monstrous presence suffocating the air itself. But then, Leon slowly stood up, using the sword to support his trembling body.

His head lowered, his breath heavy.

Then he raised the sword—Seraf’s sword—upright before his face with both hands. His eyes shut slowly as he took in a deep breath.

And then—

–BAAAANG!

A violent gust of wind exploded outward from Leon’s body, rippling the air like a sonic boom. His Spirit Blessing had awakened—wind magic whirling around him in a chaotic, swirling storm. His hair fluttered madly, and dust blasted away from his feet.

The scene made even Thunderclaw hesitate, lowering its body in cautious alertness.

Everyone watching stood frozen, awestruck.

Even Eren, who had been lazily observing with his usual dull gaze, couldn’t help but smirk in amusement.

"Typical."

Leon’s eyes slowly opened, glowing with fierce determination as the winds circled him like loyal guardians.

"...Let’s go, Seraf."

He whispered the name of the sword.

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(A/C)

Tsk! More than 2k words.

You guys better give more PS😒

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