The Genius Mage Was Reincarnated Into A Swordsman Family - Chapter 212

Chapter 212: Blood and Bone
The corridor leading to the Frost Chamber seemed longer than usual, each step measured and deliberate. Roman walked ahead, his imperial regalia exchanged for simpler attire that nonetheless radiated authority. Raphael followed, his healer’s robes rustling softly against the stone floor. Between them strode Reizhor Raikra, the Beast Emperor’s massive frame somehow filling the space without effort, his golden eyes missing nothing.

None spoke. The confrontation in the Imperial Chamber had established the boundaries of their interaction—a reluctant cooperation born of necessity rather than goodwill. Reizhor had claimed his right to see Klaus. Roman had granted it, with conditions. Now they proceeded toward that encounter, calculating what might follow.

Four elite Lionhart sentinels stood at attention before the great double doors of the Frost Chamber. At Roman’s nod, they stepped aside, pulling open the heavy doors to reveal the chamber beyond.

Blue-white light greeted them—the gentle luminescence of preservation runes and frost crystals creating perpetual twilight. In this suspended moment between day and night, Klaus lay motionless on the raised platform at the chamber’s center.

Reizhor paused at the threshold, his golden eyes narrowing as they adjusted to the dim illumination. “The preservation runes are Kalathian in origin.”

Roman glanced at him, momentarily surprised. “You recognize the pattern.”

“I am older than I appear, Ice Monarch. I have seen such workings before.” Reizhor’s gaze fixed on the platform ahead. “May I approach?”

Roman gestured his assent, and the Beast Emperor moved forward with unexpected grace for one of his size. As he neared Klaus, a subtle shift occurred in his demeanor—his fierce countenance softening, imperial presence giving way to something more fundamental: a grandfather seeing his grandson.

“He has his mother’s eyes,” Reizhor murmured, though those eyes remained closed. “And her determination, if what I hear of his achievements is true.”

“And more,” Raphael added quietly.

The Beast Emperor studied Klaus with careful attention, taking in details a casual observer might miss—the silver hair now shot through with faint strands of darkness, the subtle mark visible at the edge of his palm, the quiet rhythm of his breathing.

“The Ethereal Confluence has done what they can,” he observed, the words neither compliment nor criticism. “Yet he remains unconscious.”

“His condition is stable,” Raphael explained. “But as I mentioned yesterday, portions of his consciousness appear to be…beyond our reach.”

Reizhor nodded slowly. “And his mind? You mentioned fragmentation.”

“We have stabilized the fragments we could locate,” Raphael replied. “Prevented further scattering. But significant pieces are missing—as if held elsewhere.”

“By the entity that possessed him,” Reizhor stated. Not a question, but a conclusion.

“That is our belief, yes.”

The Beast Emperor’s expression darkened. “And this ‘Gluttony’—did it select him specifically? Or was he merely convenient?”

“Alexandra witnessed the transition,” Roman said carefully. “But her understanding of what occurred is necessarily limited.”

Reizhor turned back to Klaus, extending one massive hand toward the boy’s forehead. Roman tensed, but made no move to interfere as the Beast Emperor’s palm came to rest gently on Klaus’s brow.

“Blood calls to blood,” Reizhor murmured, his eyes half-closing. A subtle pulse of energy emanated from his touch—not conventional magic, but something more primal, connected to the essence of being itself. “The Beast Art awakened fully, as I suspected. Yet there is something else… something ancient, bound to his very core.”

The runes surrounding the platform flared in response, ancient protections activating. Reizhor withdrew his hand, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.

“Elisabeth wrote to me years ago, when Klaus first showed signs of what you called the ‘Curse of Darkness.’ Did you know this, Roman?”

The Ice Monarch’s expression remained carefully neutral. “I did not.”

“She asked if our bloodline might be responsible for his condition. I advised her to bring him to my domain for examination.” A shadow crossed Reizhor’s face. “She refused. Pride, perhaps. Or fear of your reaction.”

“Elisabeth makes her own decisions,” Roman replied evenly. “Always has.”

“Indeed. Much like her mother.” Reizhor’s gaze remained fixed on Klaus. “Her stubbornness cost us years of understanding. The boy’s Beast Art manifested without proper guidance. And now this…”

He gestured to Klaus’s still form, frustration evident in the set of his massive shoulders. “No Raikra in ten generations has contracted with a Night Dragon. Such creatures were thought extinct since the Third Age. Yet somehow, my grandson forms such a bond, without training, without preparation.”

“Klaus has always been… exceptional,” Raphael offered.

“Exceptional.” Reizhor repeated the word, testing its weight. “A pale description for one who became the youngest Swordmaster in continental history, contracted an extinct species, and survived an encounter with an entity powerful enough to erase an Eternal Rift.”

He turned to face Roman directly. “There is more to this boy than either of us fully comprehend. He carries two ancient bloodlines, yes, but there is something beyond blood at work here. Something that existed before his birth.”

“The Ethereal Confluence’s eldest sage suggested a similar possibility,” Raphael noted. “She sensed patterns in his consciousness suggesting—”

“Reincarnation,” Reizhor finished, nodding. “Yes, that aligns with what I perceive. This is not his first life.”

Roman’s expression betrayed nothing, though his thoughts raced. If Klaus had indeed lived before—if his soul had returned with purpose—it would explain much about his extraordinary development and abilities.

“My healers have studied the bond between beast and human for millennia,” Reizhor continued, his tone shifting from contemplative to resolute. “They understand connections that your Ethereal Confluence can only theorize about. The bond between Klaus and his Night Dragon might offer a pathway to reach his scattered consciousness.”

“Our healers have already attempted to use that connection,” Raphael countered. “The dragon is equally distressed by the separation.”

“Your healers lack the necessary understanding of beast bonds,” Reizhor dismissed with a wave of his hand. “This is precisely why the boy belongs under my care.”

The temperature in the chamber dropped noticeably as Roman’s control slipped. “We have covered this ground already, Beast Emperor. Klaus remains at the Lionhart Estate.”

“Where your best efforts have yielded what?” Reizhor challenged, gesturing toward Klaus. “Stasis? Preservation? He deserves healing, not merely conservation.”

Roman stepped closer to the platform, placing himself between Reizhor and Klaus in a move both calculated and instinctive. “And you believe you can provide this healing?”

“I know I can offer what you cannot—understanding of the Beast Art he has awakened and the creature he has bonded with.” Reizhor’s golden eyes narrowed. “Elisabeth deprived him of this knowledge out of misplaced loyalty to your family. I will not compound that error by leaving him in hands that cannot fully help him.”

“You speak as if your claim is already settled,” Roman noted, his voice dangerously quiet. “The council has made no such determination.”

“The council will hear Alexandra’s testimony today. Then they will make their decision.” Reizhor’s confidence was absolute. “And when they understand what truly happened at Northwatch, they will recognize the wisdom in my position.”

“Perhaps.” Roman’s composure remained intact, though frost gathered at his fingertips. “Or perhaps they will see the danger in separating an unstable vessel from those who have contained him thus far.”

Reizhor’s expression hardened. “You speak of your grandson as a threat to be managed.”

“I speak of reality, Beast Emperor. If Klaus is indeed what the ancient texts call an Apostle—a vessel for powers beyond our understanding—then his condition represents a continental concern, not merely a family matter.”

“On this point, at least, we agree.” Reizhor turned back to Klaus, his massive hand coming to rest on the platform’s edge. “Which is why his recovery must be our primary focus. The entity may have withdrawn for now, but if the texts are correct, such retreats are temporary. When it returns, would you not prefer your grandson be conscious to resist it?”

The question hung in the air between them, cutting through pretense to the heart of their shared concern. Before Roman could respond, Raphael stepped forward.

“Perhaps there is a middle path,” he suggested, his healer’s pragmatism asserting itself. “The Beast Emperor’s knowledge of beast bonds could prove valuable to our efforts. A collaborative approach rather than a transfer of custody.”

Both monarchs regarded him with similar expressions of surprise—neither accustomed to having their confrontation interrupted with practical suggestions.

“My healers would require access to the boy,” Reizhor stated after a moment’s consideration. “And to his bonded creature.”

“Under supervision,” Roman stipulated immediately. “And with no removal from the estate.”

Reizhor’s golden eyes narrowed, considering. “I will require quarters for myself and my personal healer. The bond assessment cannot be performed remotely.”

“Acceptable,” Roman conceded, “provided your presence does not interfere with the council’s proceedings.”

“My priority is my grandson’s recovery,” Reizhor replied. “Politics is secondary.”

A statement only half-believed by either man, but the framework of agreement had been established—a temporary accord motivated by mutual interest in Klaus’s recovery.

“We should return,” Raphael suggested. “The council reconvenes soon to hear Alexandra’s testimony.”

As they moved toward the door, Reizhor paused for a final look at Klaus. Something almost gentle crossed his fierce features—a glimpse of the man behind the imperial mask.

“Rest, grandson,” he murmured. “Your blood knows the way back.”

Outside in the corridor, the two emperors walked in silence, each calculating what this new arrangement might mean for their respective positions. The council awaited, and with it, Alexandra’s account of what had truly occurred at Northwatch. What she would reveal—and what she might withhold—would shape the decisions to come.

And through it all, Klaus remained beyond their reach, his fragmented consciousness scattered across dimensions only partially understood, oblivious to the political storm gathering around his still form.