The Genius Mage Was Reincarnated Into A Swordsman Family - Chapter 334

Chapter 334: The Twelve Heirs and the Unspoken Truth

The Rikxia Empire, like all great monarchies, was a brutal engine of meritocracy and political necessity. The Ice Monarch, Roman Lionhart, fathered children far too numerous to count, a veritable legion scattered among his many wives and concubines. To prevent the inevitable, bloody civil war that a massive pool of candidates would guarantee, a firm, ancient rule governed the succession: only twelve of the Patriarch’s most talented sons, chosen by the Monarch himself, would be officially recognized.

These twelve recognized sons, and their direct male descendants, formed the Main Line. They alone were eligible to succeed to the Patriarchate of the Lionhart family and, consequently, the throne of the Rikxia Empire.

This rule enforced a perpetual, ruthless competition among all the Monarch’s children. Only the most gifted could secure one of the twelve revered positions. While a son stripped of this rank could still hold high titles within the military, everything in the Lionhart house was based on visible power. A contender who rose too high one season could fall the next, replaced by a more accomplished sibling.

Among his many sons and daughters, Roman Lionhart had once possessed an overwhelming favorite: Ludovic Lionhart. The talent Ludovic displayed as a child was singular, meant for destiny, and Roman had groomed him as his successor. But when Ludovic’s mana core shattered, that overwhelming paternal favor was instantly transmuted into a powerful, crippling shame. Ludovic was brutally stripped of his rank among the twelve. His dramatic fall from grace, from the designated heir to the most despised, useless failure in a family that worshipped strength, became the standard by which all mediocrity was judged.

On the other side of this harsh dynamic was Yenova Lionhart. The youngest of Roman’s recognized daughters, she only grew stronger with each passing day. Her sheer, terrifying aptitude and sharp cunning had secured her place among the elite. She now commanded the Eclair—the Rikxia Empire’s most prestigious and feared special armed force, a position earned through unchallenged merit, not nepotism.

She was Roman’s pride, and everyone knew it.

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The air in the Throne Room was thicker than liquid ice. The fifteen descendants—twelve sons, the favored daughter, and the two anomalous grandsons—stared at the man on the Golden Lion Throne, yet they did not recognize him.

Roman Lionhart, the Ice Monarch, looked at least two decades younger than the man they had last seen. The atmosphere he exuded was no longer merely political authority or even high-level magical might; it was unbearable, primal. It felt like staring directly into a blazing, nascent sun, a celestial body that threatened to vaporize the observer’s very essence.

Even Roland Lionhart, the eldest and most confident among the twelve recognized sons, the one who had just defied the Main Butler, could not maintain eye contact. His gaze dropped, his arrogance momentarily dissolved by the sheer magnitude of his father’s transformation.

Yenova was the first to react. She had to lower her eyes against the blinding presence, yet her face was alight with feverish excitement.

“Congratulations, Father, on your transcendence!” she exclaimed, her voice ringing with genuine fervor. She dropped instantly to her knees, executing a flawless, respectful salutation.

The display caught her twelve brothers completely off guard. Their shared animosity instantly gave way to panic. If their sister knew the Monarch had ascended to a higher realm, they were already lagging behind. In a cold, rushed cacophony, all twelve immediately dropped to their knees, congratulating their father in a ragged, panicked chorus.

Only two beings remained standing.

Klaus and Alex.

They both stood rigid, their eyes fixed straight upon Roman. The immense pressure that had forced the greatest generals to their knees and humbled the proudest Lionhart sons seemed to roll off the two young men without effect.

Roman’s lips curved upward into a thin, predatory smile. He was deeply pleased that these two, and only these two, had refused to bow.

Alex’s eyes held a fierce, burning envy, a desperate recognition that his grandfather had accessed a power he himself coveted. Klaus, meanwhile, observed Roman with a penetrating, clinical surprise. Both cousins, each vessel of an Arkdieu, understood instantly: Roman Lionhart had successfully stepped into a realm of power that was terrifyingly similar to their own.

“Rise.” Roman’s voice, now colder than the void, boomed across the chamber.

His children scrambled to their feet.

“You have heard the decree of war against the Coalition of Five Monarchs,” Roman began, his presence subtly withdrawing, allowing the atmosphere in the room to become merely cold, not crushing. “I want your immediate take on the situation.”

Leopaul Lionhart, the third son, was the first to speak, his composure clearly shattered. “My Lord, I believe this war is a mistake. Our empire is vast and strong, but facing five other nations with similar military capabilities is an endeavor we cannot undertake.”

“I agree with my brother, My Lord,” said David Lionhart, the second son. “While the Rikxia Empire possesses the greatest concentration of high-level warriors, our resources will be depleted within months against such a large, coordinated force. This is untenable.”

“Cowards!” Roland sneered, his disdain burning as he fixed his two brothers with a merciless gaze.

Roland then turned to the Throne. Though they were in an official setting, he pointedly used the informal address. “Father,” he said, his voice ringing with a conviction that surpassed mere ambition. “I believe this is the perfect opportunity. We should use this conflict to unify the Runiya Continent under one banner and secure our absolute dominion.”

Roland’s statement caused the eyes of his brothers to widen in genuine, profound shock. To unify the continent was a madman’s dream.

“That is a reckless delusion, My Lord!” Nathaniel Lionhart, the sixth son, stepped forward. “This war can still be averted. The other Monarchs want only these two.”

Nathaniel gestured sharply toward Klaus and Alex. “Ever since the disastrous internal Rift incident, they fear we are cultivating super-soldiers using forbidden entities within the bloodline. We know the truth—that these two children formed a bond with those forbidden beings by chance—but why allow the situation to escalate into a war that will cost hundreds of thousands of lives? We can simply deliver those two foolish boys, let the Coalition deal with them, and restore the continental peace.”

Raoul Lionhart, Alex’s father, roared, his face turning crimson with incandescent rage. “How dare you! You speak of Lionhart descendants, your own blood!”

“Do not let your emotions cloud the strategic necessity, Raoul,” Nathaniel shot back, maintaining his ground. “Think of the bigger picture. Why risk the complete destruction of our military and the fall of the empire just to protect two individuals?” Nathaniel looked around, gathering support.

“Nathaniel speaks the truth,” confirmed Ael Lionhart, the eighth son. Several others nodded their heads in immediate, cold agreement. Only Roland and Raphael remained silent and still.

“I did not realize my brothers were such pathetic cowards,” Yenova said, her tone dripping with mocking contempt, addressing the entire group.

She turned to Roman, her eyes bright with a dangerous calculation. “My Lord, among the seven monarchies, we possess the second largest standing army, surpassed only by the forces of the Beast Emperor. We know the Beast Emperor is not part of the Coalition, and furthermore, we know he is fundamentally unable to take part in a war against us.”

“And why, pray tell, is the Beast Emperor unable to oppose us?” Nathaniel challenged, his voice laced with skepticism.

The answer came not from Yenova, but from the most unpredictable being in the room.

“Because he is my maternal grandfather,” Klaus stated simply.

The effect was instantaneous and electrifying. The faces of the Monarch’s sons who had not been privy to this secret—which was most of them—drained of all color.

“The Beast Emperor is your grandfather?” David Lionhart stammered in open disbelief, turning desperately to his father. “How is that possible? Do not tell us your mother is his daughter!”

Roman remained perfectly still, observing the chaos he had engineered with cold, indifferent eyes.

“Father! How could you allow the Beast Emperor’s daughter to marry that useless Ludovic?” Leopaul roared, jealousy and fury contorting his face. “You intended to make him your successor all along, didn’t you?”

“You should have broken their engagement the moment he broke his mana core! Why allow a political asset of that magnitude to be wasted on someone so utterly useless?” Leopaul continued, his questions burning with resentment. Roman still offered no reply, watching his sons tear each other down with detached amusement.

“As I was stating,” Yenova cut through the rising panic, reclaiming the floor. “If the Beast Emperor is out of the picture, this is a war we can manage. All we require is absolute certainty regarding the support of our vassal states and political allies.”

For the first time since the summons, Roman Lionhart smiled—a cold, thin curve of the lips that held no warmth.

“As expected of my daughter,” Roman said, his voice filled with terrifying pride. “Instead of listing your pathetic fears or selfish ambitions like your useless brothers, you actually presented a solution.” He paused, his gaze sweeping over the kneaded faces of his sons. “We Lionhart protect our own. We do not cower in the face of danger. We do not cower in the face of death, and we certainly do not cower in front of men. If they want war, it is war they shall receive.”

Roman’s eyes, filled with the crushing power of his transformation, settled first on Alex. “Alex Lionhart. What do you intend to do about our current predicament?”

Alex straightened, his voice firm with a terrifying resolve. “Just as my cousin and I caused this war, I intend to be on the front line. I will show them what they so feared by unleashing the full, unbridled power of an Apostle!”

Alex unleashed his aura—a volatile, raw expression of fragmented divinity that snapped the air in the room. Roman smiled again, though the answer was clearly not what he was seeking.

He turned his gaze, now intense and searching, upon Klaus.

“Klaus Lionhart. What do you intend to do about our current predicament?”

Klaus, always the unpredictable one, met the Monarch’s gaze and gave an answer that silenced the entire Throne Room.

“I will prevent this war from happening.”