Bucket List (1)

House Granberg employed a relatively small amount of personnel to maintain their estate compared to the other noble houses. The one taking the lead for those personnel was the head butler, Rufus. He had barely reached his forties, and yet he had been entrusted this huge responsibility by the previous head butler thanks to his unquestionable capabilities and loyalty.

And that outstanding man was currently at loss of what to do.

It was already long past due for breakfast. The master had been waiting for quite a while for his youngest son to come down. When he was nowhere on sight, Rufus was delegated to check up on him.

It seemed that young master Sasha had overslept this morning.

It wasn't something extraordinary. Perhaps the boy had played a bit too much yesterday. Surely a gentle knock on the door would remedy the situation.

...No response.

Rufus proceeded to knock a little harder. On the third time, he was practically using the door as a drum.

"Young master Sasha? It's time to wake up!"

Still no response. He strained his ears in order to catch the slightest noise inside. He could faintly hear a breathing sound, but that was it.

Numerous scenario flashed in his head in an instant. The majority wasn't particularly nice to hear.

"Young master, pardon me!"

He made up his mind, and then pushed the door open.

What he saw was a small child sitting ramrod straight on the bed with mouth wide agape and vacant eyes staring at the ceiling.

"Young master?!"

Rufus hurriedly rushed over, putting his hands on the child's shoulders, and then violently shook him. He was dead afraid that his young master had been entranced by some wicked demon.

As for Sasha, the sudden vibration brought him out of his trance. When his eyes returned into focus, he was greeted by the head butler's panicked expression.

"What, it's Rufus..." He slurred, showing the butler a faint smile. "Why are you so flustered? If you're stressed out, your hernia will get worse..."

"..."

How did you know that, young master?! I thought I'd hidden it rather well?!

"Ahem... Master is expecting you downstairs."

Sasha just gave him yet another vacant stare, so Rufus quickly added, "It's time for breakfast."

"Oh."

The boy still looked like he was out of it, but at least he still responded. Rufus called for the maids to come and help him dress up for the day. When they were done, he escorted the boy downstairs, keeping hold of his hand the entire way.

At the dining hall, Baron Granberg's face had long since turned as black as a kettle. He was the type who'd always cherished the little time he could have with his family in the morning. As such, tardiness was one thing that he couldn't tolerate. The maids waiting on the side couldn't help but tremble, thinking that the young master was in trouble this time.

Sitting at the Baron's left side was a ten-years-old boy. With a flaming red hair and finely-chiseled face, he looked like the younger version of the Baron himself. However, compared to the Baron's rough features, hardened through years of combat, the youth still retained his innocence. The maids gossiped that this boy, in the future, most certainly would grow to be a lady-killer.

It was a shame that such a handsome boy was holding such a cold, icy gaze that could easily intimidate people.

That boy was Lenard Granberg, publicly known as the oldest son of Baron Granberg. For those who knew about house Granberg's intimate affair, they knew that he was merely an adopted son, the Baron's own nephew.

Arriving at the manor when he was eight, he showed tremendous proficiency in both literature and swordplay. The Baron had initially looked at him with mere pity, but soon he had taken a liking to this bundle of talents, favoring him as if he was his own flesh and blood.

Truly, compared to his own child... this nephew of his was more sensible!

The Baron squinted when he saw the door parting open. The head butler Rufus had walked in with Sasha trailing behind him in a daze. He looked like someone who had just been woken up from his long slumber, and yet still want to head back to dreamland.

The Baron gritted his teeth, trying to restrain his anger.

"Y-young master, go and apologize-" Rufus secretly whispered to Sasha. However, the kid acted like he didn't hear it. Instead, he went to his seat across of Lenard, plopped on the chair, and then proceeded to munch on the bread on the table.

"..."

Young master, I'm happy that you have guts, but this is the wrong time and place to show it!

The Baron slapped the table with such force that cracks had formed on the surface. The plates shook and clanked, while a soup bowl was toppled over by the impact, its content staining the tablecloth.

"Sasha Granberg! Is this how you act with your father? Huh?!"

He was so angry to the point of spitting literal spit along with his words.

As for the recipient of that anger... aside from getting covered in spit, he merely glanced at the Baron for a bit, mumbling something incoherent, and then resumed his bread munching.

Lenard was watching the entire scene with utter confusion. His younger brother wasn't particulary happy with suddenly having an older brother out of nowhere. It would be normal for him to throw a tantrum from time to time.

But... why did it look less like a rebelling child and more like a delirious drunkard?

The Baron had noticed it as well, but his seething rage had clouded his judgement. In his eyes, this idiot son of his was starting to become disrespectful to his elder. He contemplated on giving him a slap, but refrained in the end.

Suddenly, a candle lit up in his head.

"Fine, if you still want to keep that act... get up! Rufus, drag this child to the training ground! Lenard, you come as well."

Both Lenard and Rufus stared at the Baron, the former with curiosity while the latter was filled with dread. They seemed to realize what kind of scheme the Baron had concocted just now.

As for Sasha... he was still munching on bread without a care in the world.

---

At the training ground, the boys stood facing each other, both wielding wooden swords used for sparring.

Training in swordplay would start when a child reached the age of seven, so this was business as usual for Lenard. In fact, the Baron was supposedly going to personally tutor him after breakfast.

Today the Baron had intended for Sasha to watch as his older brother practiced, intending to prepare him for the start of his own training next year. But the Baron had changed his plan at the last moment.

You want to play rogue with your father? Go ahead, I'll just beat you up until you cry! This is also training!

Talent-wise, Lenard was leagues apart from Sasha. Not to mention that Lenard had been training his forms for a couple of years already. By all means, the chance of Sasha winning this bout was zero.

That was why, doubt began to rise in the Baron's heart instead.

Losing was fine, but what if Sasha got wounded too severely? No matter how naughty he was, the boy was still the Baron's cherished son. Just the thought of the boy getting hurt quickly doused the flame of anger in his heart.

He was already regretting his own decision. What a wishy-washy man...

The Baron threw a glance at Lenard, giving him a meaningful wink. The message was clear: go easy on your younger brother. No, really, please go easy.

Lenard: "..."

what a wishy-washy father...

Now feeling a bit miffed, Lenard tightened his grip on the wooden sword. Going easy, huh? Wrecking him would be bad, but scaring him should be fine, right?

After calculating what move he would use, Lenard dashed out like the wind, closing their distance in the blink of an eye.

Meanwhile, Sasha was struck by a nauseating sense of déjà vu.

During his first rebirth, he remembered asking for a spar with Lenard. It happened at this exact time, in this exact place. Even their outfit was the same as before. It seemed that he really did return to the past. Not to mention, the same course of fate was forced unto him once again.

It turned his already bad mood even gloomier.

At that moment, he felt a faint sense of killing intent closing on him rapidly. He barely caught a glimpse of a wooden sword raised up in the air, before a heavy slash had rained down upon him, aiming at his shoulder.

After the war with the Dark Lord, Sasha had taught swordplay in the royal academy. Even in his twilight years, he had always trained his body, even if merely for the sake of relieving boredom. While this younger body of him lacked practice, his honed battle instinct carried from two previous lives hadn't dulled just yet.

As such, his body reacted purely by reflex.

He stepped to the side, rotating his body slightly to avoid the wooden sword at the last moment. At the same time, he swung his own sword, aiming at the opening left after that one attack.

However, the distance he'd taken with his side-step was far from ideal. Combined with his shorter reach compared to his previous lives, he had left his opponent too much time to react.

As expected, Lenard had stomped on the ground to forcefully stop his downward momentum. In a single maneuver, he changed his sword's path into a horizontal slash. Perhaps still not recovered from the shock of having his strike avoided, the swing was even heavier than before, having the entirety of his strength behind him as he failed to regulate his output.

Sasha's internal danger alarm was blaring like mad. It wasn't an attack that he could block with his current ability.

Thus, he decided to avoid it again.

He threw his body backward, dropping his head and torso right below the trajectory of slash. A ringing noise pounded his ears as he witnessed the wooden blade passing right in front of his eyes, just a single inch left before it could touch the tip of his nose.

The Baron and Rufus, who were watching by the side, unconsciously swallowed their saliva. Sasha's left palm had struck the ground, stopping his body from falling. If he could twist his body and pushed forward, he would be able to perhaps mount a counter attack at this exact moment when Lenard was still trying to pull back his sword.

Time kept on slowing down as they watched the younger boy's sword arm swinging upward, while the older boy scrambled to block the incoming attack.

At that exact moment, a faint, squeaking noise sounded as Sasha's hand slipped, planting him head-first into the hard wooden floor. The sword in his other hand flew off his grip into the air, spinning a few times before landing a few meters in the distance.

Lenard, the Baron, and Rufus: "..."

"Owww..." Sasha groaned pitifully as he rolled around on the ground while rubbing the back of his head. That impact had almost sent him unconscious, alright? It hurt like hell!

"Uh... what now...?" Rufus asked, his lips still twitching after his tension got cut so abruptly.

"Enough, that's... enough. It's Lenard's victory!" the Baron finally managed to mutter between his coughs. "Rufus, help Sasha in and tend to his... uh, wound."

Finally receiving the order he'd been waiting for, Rufus quickly rushed over to Sasha and carried the boy inside. In the meantime, Lenard was watching them with intense glare. A deluge of emotion seemed to swirl within those eyes.

"What are you thinking, child?" the Baron asked, abruptly pulling him back from his chaotic thoughts.

"No, nothing..."

"Anyway, that was a splendid display of skill. A quick, decisive strike before the enemy could react. Indeed, your skill had improved yet again!"

"And yet... he avoided it, no?"

The Baron quickly shut his mouth, not knowing what else to say. On one hand, Lenard was clearly holding back with his strikes. Surely his speed in an actual battle would be greater. Sadly, it was also a fact that a total amateur, one younger than him even, had managed to avoid his attacks. Whatever he said at this point would just leave a bad taste for the youth.

"It's the first time that you guys have sparred with each other. You haven't gauged his skill yet, so this thing could happen once in a while. It's perfectly normal."

In short, he was saying that Lenard had 'underestimated' Sasha, leading to this failure. It wasn't just limited to Lenard. It seemed that he had 'underestimated' his son as well!

Lenard wasn't satisfied with that evaluation, of course, but he understood that the Baron didn't mean harm. Seeing the shock on the Baron's face, he could tell that his father hadn't expected this situation to occur.

Sigh...

He was frustrated. So frustrated.

The only cure, was to train even harder!

"Father, please start."

"Oh? Ah, yeah, let's..."

Under the Baron's instruction, Lenard resumed his morning practice routine once again.