Richard’s personal maid, Mary, couldn’t hide her confusion.
Why was her young master walking with her toward the servants’ quarters?
‘What is going on…?’
When Richard had offered to help her, Mary had thought she misheard.
It was something completely out of character for the infamous scoundrel.
But before she could refuse, he had gently urged her to guide him.
‘What is he planning…?’
She couldn’t guess his intentions.
But one thing was clear: Richard had changed recently.
He had begun training seriously and hadn’t caused any trouble in a while.
His usual violent demeanor had softened.
Even so, Mary couldn’t shake her unease.
The wounds she’d endured as his maid ran deep, and she had cried more times than she could count.
But now she found herself at the door to her destination.
Inside lay a pale woman—Mary’s mother, Melline, sick in bed.
Melline stirred and weakly called out, coughing up blood.
Mary introduced Richard, explaining that he wanted to check on her mother’s condition himself.
Startled, Melline tried to sit up upon hearing Richard’s name, but he stopped her.
“No need. Stay lying down.”
Though awkward, his tone was sincere. He asked detailed questions about her illness.
“The physician said… there’s no hope.”
Turning to Mary, Melline pleaded with Richard:
“Please… take care of my Mary. That’s all I ask…”
Overwhelmed, Mary began crying.
Her mother, trying to stay strong, also broke down.
The room filled with the heavy air of medicine and grief.
“If you’re worried about your daughter, then you can’t die.”
Richard approached Melline and knelt, placing his hand gently over hers.
A white light radiated from his palm.
Shocked, Melline closed her eyes as a warm, calming sensation washed over her.
“Feeling better? The symptoms should’ve eased a little.”
He grinned.
Mary and Melline looked at him, stunned.
They knew what mana was—and this wasn’t it.
But that didn’t matter.
“The doctor said… she couldn’t be saved…”
But Mary could see it now—Melline’s pale complexion was showing faint signs of life.
“My god…”
Mary fell to her knees before Richard.
“Please! Please save my mother! I’ll do anything you ask!”
Melline tried to stop her daughter’s desperate plea, but Richard spoke gently:
“Mary, stand up.”
He helped her to her feet and pointed skyward.
“It’s not me who grants your wish. I am but a vessel.”
A warm light filled the room.
A soft glow surrounded Richard’s figure.
“Pray to Hor. That’s all you have to do.”
***
The Next Morning.
When Richard woke, a system message appeared before him:
[Mary has offered a heartfelt prayer.]
[Melline has offered a heartfelt prayer.]
[You have gained 60 Faith Points.]
[Vitality and luck now bless those who prayed.]
“Finally… I have believers!”
Two followers in one night. It was a breakthrough in acquiring faith.
“Time to return the favor.”
He checked his Faith Points: 660 total.
He’d used 50 the night before, so he had plenty left.
Mary knocked on his door with breakfast.
Her face seemed noticeably brighter, filled with hope.
“So, did you do what I asked yesterday?”
“Yes! I prayed. For hours, with my mother… to the god Hor!”
Her earnest eyes made her desires crystal clear.
“It didn’t have to be that much…”
Faith wasn’t about quantity—it was about sincerity.
Richard focused on a cup of water and used 10 Faith Points.
[This object now faintly possesses the qualities of low-grade holy water.]
Faith was all-powerful.
With it, weapons became holy swords and water became sacred.
“The god has heard your wish. Your faith is still weak, but he shows mercy.”
Mary looked confused as he handed her the cup.
“This water contains divine power. Give it to your mother every day for 20 days.”
Mary hesitated, but Richard reassured her.
“If you’re worried I messed with it, drink it yourself. Or I will.”
Mary quickly declined, saying she believed him.
“But… will this really heal my mother?”
“Go check for yourself.”
Mary bowed and rushed out.
Based on last night’s test, Richard estimated he’d need around 200 Faith Points to fully cure Melline.
By showing real results, they’d continue praying.
More faith would follow.
“Hook, line, and sinker.”
***
Later That Day.
Richard went to the training grounds.
Today was the day of the Patriarchs’ Conference, and he planned to begin early.
Knights glanced his way as he warmed up and began running.
Thanks to lingering elixirs in his system, he felt lighter and stronger than ever.
His servant Aaron approached.
“Young Master, the conference will begin shortly.”
“Let me know when it’s about to end. Also, fetch a bottle of the best wine.”
“Wine, sir?”
“It’s not for me. I’m meeting the man who will become my teacher.”
“Your teacher… wait, you mean Sir Vallach?”
“Correct.”
Vallach, the wandering swordsman, would attend the meeting—a rare occasion. He was remembered clearly from the original game story.
“It’s unusual for someone outside the family heads to attend…”
“That’s how influential he is.”
Vallach’s strength was unmatched, and his personality? Infamously difficult.
“But… he’s famously never taken a student.”
Richard looked at him sideways.
“Are you thinking I don’t stand a chance?”
Aaron quickly denied it, then ran ahead.
‘He’s not wrong though.’
Vallach had spent his life searching for a worthy heir—but had never found one.
‘That’s because none were good enough.’
Vallach was the successor of a legendary sword lineage and rivaled even the head of Richard’s house in power.
His disciple would inherit an ancient tradition.
‘But I’m different.’
With fate altered, Richard was determined to forge the bond between him and Vallach—a connection that hadn’t existed in the original storyline.