Who Says I’m Not a Legitimate Adventurer?

At that very moment, someone lightly knocked three times upon the study’s heavy oak door from outside.

The rhythm was steady, with perfectly measured pauses.

The man slowly lowered his hand from the spine of that book.

He adjusted the slightly wrinkled cuff of his sleeve.

“Come in.”

The man turned toward the doorway.

Accompanied by the turning of the brass doorknob, an elderly chief steward dressed in a black tailcoat pushed open the door and walked before him.

The old steward’s white hair was combed perfectly neatly, while his posture remained straight and upright.

He stopped three steps before the man and bowed slightly.

The old steward intentionally lowered his voice, carrying the composure cultivated through many years of serving nobility.

“One of your guests has arrived. Viscount Lenian has come to pay a visit.”

“I already invited him into the reception hall in advance, and according to your previous instructions, served him the precious Mist Dew.”

“It has now been half an hour, yet he appears very patient and has not displayed the slightest impatience.”

The man lightly nodded before stepping out of the study.

The reception hall on the first floor was spacious and brightly illuminated.

A massive crystal chandelier hung from the domed ceiling, radiating soft and warm light.

Thick wool carpets covered the floor, making footsteps nearly silent.

Several expensive landscape oil paintings hung upon the walls, while the incense burner in the corner continuously released elegant fragrance into the air.

An extraordinarily handsome black-haired man sat quietly within the guest seat’s high-backed chair.

He possessed slightly curly black hair, while his facial features were so exquisite they surpassed the limits humanity should possess. His skin was so fair that not the slightest flaw could be found upon it.

The beverage within the delicate porcelain cup on the table before him had long since been completely emptied.

Yet his expression still maintained calm leisure.

He simply sat there quietly like a peerlessly beautiful painting displayed inside an art gallery, without impatience and without emotional fluctuations.

At this moment, steady footsteps echoed through the corridor.

As the footsteps approached, the owner of this luxurious estate—the man from the study earlier—finally appeared at the entrance of the reception hall.

Hearing the movement, the young man immediately stood up.

Looking at the man who entered from the study, he slightly lowered himself into a perfectly proper noble junior’s bow.

“My respected Uncle Moloch, Orpheus Lenian greets you here.”

Moloch looked at the excessively beautiful person before him. A gentle smile hung upon his face as he lightly nodded.

He walked to the main seat and sat down with incomparable elegance, crossing both hands upon his knees.

“Your father should have mentioned me to you before.”

Moloch’s voice sounded easygoing, like a genuinely kind elder casually chatting with family.

“You specially came all the way to Azure Harbor today to find me because you wish to use the favor your father left behind back then?”

Hearing those words, Orpheus revealed a beautiful smile.

He respectfully lowered his head, his tone carrying traces of pleading.

“My respected Uncle, I truly require the assistance of your powerful fate-weaving abilities to weave a prophecy for me.”

“Upon the cruel path of pursuing great achievements, the bloodline of the Lott Family ought to help one another.”

“Back then, my father paid an enormous price to help you complete your Legacy.”

“After your success, you personally promised that you would unconditionally weave a grand prophecy for our Lenian Family.”

Orpheus paused slightly, a trace of gloom flashing through his eyes.

“But in the end, my father still failed. He died upon the road of pursuing his Legacy.”

“Now, I have come to request your assistance and ask you to fulfill the promise from those years.”

At this moment, Orpheus’s expression was exceptionally respectful and sincere.

Combined with that handsome face capable of toppling nations, such humble pleading would likely make even the most cold-hearted man incapable of ruthlessly rejecting his request.

Yet Moloch, seated in the main position, remained completely unmoved.

Those eyes calmly observed Orpheus while a gentle smile rested upon his lips.

“As far as I know, the Legacy you pursue should only be one final step away from completion.”

Moloch did not agree directly.

“Now that success is so close, what happened in the middle?”

Faced with his uncle’s questioning, Orpheus could only truthfully explain the situation.

Because among all the members of the Lott Family, probably only this mysterious Uncle Moloch would choose to help him.

After all, Orpheus’s reputation within the family was abysmal. He had long been mocked by outsiders as the “Shame of Lott.”

Not only was he an illegitimate child hidden from public view, he had even only been reluctantly brought back into the family to inherit the title when the previous Viscount Lenian was on the verge of death.

Although because he inherited the ancient bloodline of the Lott Family, he had fortunately possessed a rare Legendary Rank talent from birth—

it was also an utterly useless talent completely lacking combat ability.

【Appearance of the Divine Child: Your appearance seems personally sculpted by the Gods. You will forever maintain sacred and supreme beauty, and your external body will never undergo physical distortion】

This useless ornamental talent that served only as decoration was viewed by the Legacy-pursuing Lott Family as a symbol of bloodline degeneration and shame.

He could only bear the surname of the Lott branch family, Lenian, and was not even permitted to change his surname to Lott.

Those arrogant peers within the Lott Family openly referred to him as a bastard directly to his face without the slightest concealment.

This was also the fundamental reason why, after encountering difficulties, he had no way to seek help from other family members.

Not a single proud member of the Lott Family would willingly lower themselves to assist someone regarded as a low-blooded waste with no value worth cultivating.

“The ‘Dark River’ organization helping me secretly capture Demi-Humans has recently suffered frequent attacks from unknown assailants.”

Orpheus withdrew his smile, his expression becoming somewhat gloomy. Yet combined with the Appearance of the Divine Child, it instead revealed a strange melancholic beauty.

“It seems someone is deliberately sabotaging the underground slave-trading network.”

“The final ‘piece’ I needed to complete my Legacy was completely lost amidst that chaos.”

“So I sincerely request that you use your fate-weaving abilities to arrange a precise prophecy for me.”

“Uncle, this is a fair transaction.”

“You may stand by and witness the birth of my Legacy, naturally taking away the generous rewards bestowed by fate.”

“And I may also borrow your prophetic guidance to recover that crucial ‘piece.’”

Orpheus spoke these words with great skill.

He understood very clearly that the Legacy Class Moloch had advanced into was extremely special.

Participating in and manipulating the destinies of others was itself an enormous source of benefit to Moloch.

The core elements of that class included roleplaying, deception, manipulation, and fate.