Reborn as a side character with a system

Blood and Burdens

Chapter 9

“What a cold way to greet your own blood.”

Victor’s voice carried a quiet amusement as he stepped into the room and took a seat near Nolan’s bed, crossing one leg over the other with casual elegance. His sharp gaze lingered on Nolan, studying him as if he were something unfamiliar. Something that had changed without permission.

“I came to say hi, that’s all.”

Nolan didn’t respond immediately. He rose from the bed and walked toward the table lined with scrolls and potions, his movements calm but distant. “I am your elder brother after all,” he said at last, his tone cold and measured. “So, brother… what can I help you with?”

Victor didn’t seem offended. If anything, the attitude amused him.

“Well, brother…” he began, leaning forward slightly, his smirk deepening. “Like I said, I came to pay my respects. As you’re already aware… we, your brothers, are hunting the land Father has promised you. And the time to claim it is drawing near.”

A faint blue flame flickered in his eyes.

“I’m well aware,” Nolan replied, taking a seat and resting his elbow on the armrest. A faint smile touched his lips, though it held no warmth. “And if it’s land you want… then you shall have it.”

Victor’s brow twitched.

“But be aware,” Nolan continued, his gaze sharpening, “nothing of mine will be taken without a fight.”

Silence filled the room.

Victor slowly stood, his expression darkening as a suffocating pressure began to spread from his body. “Is that so…?”

The air grew heavy.

“Then I’ll take it from your corpse.”

His aura exploded outward, flooding the room with overwhelming force. Nolan froze instantly, unable to move even a finger. His breath caught in his throat as his body betrayed him, trembling under the sheer weight of Victor’s presence.

This aura… it’s overwhelming…

How is he this strong? He’s younger than me…

Why is my body reacting like this…?

Am I about to die…?

His thoughts raced wildly, panic clawing at the edges of his mind. But then...

No… think.

Mother is here.

He wouldn’t dare.

Forcing every ounce of will he had, Nolan straightened his expression. His trembling stopped, not because the pressure eased, but because he refused to show weakness. Slowly, he lifted his gaze and locked eyes with Victor.

The tension lingered for a heartbeat longer.

Then Victor exhaled, the pressure vanishing instantly.

“You still have a long way to go, brother,” he said, turning toward the door. “Make up for those seventeen years of wasted time.”

Without another word, he left.

The moment the door closed, Nolan collapsed slightly, gripping his chest as he gasped for air. His eyes widened, his composure cracking.

“I could’ve died…” he muttered under his breath.

Challenging Victor head-on wasn’t an option.

That wasn’t a fight...it was suicide.

No… this needs strategy.

Outside the door, Victor paused for a moment. A slow smirk crept onto his face before he walked away without looking back.

In a lavish chamber draped in elegance...soft silks, polished wood, and golden accents reflecting the status of its owner. Layla sat at her desk, flipping through stacks of documents. Her expression was heavy with concern.

She leaned back, her gaze drifting to the ceiling.

“Just how bad will things be…” she murmured.

A knock interrupted her thoughts.

“Come in!” she called, quickly straightening.

“Mother… are you busy?”

Nolan stepped in quietly.

In a swift motion, Layla gathered the documents and hid them inside a drawer before turning to him with a gentle smile, but forced. “No, sweetheart. Everything’s fine.”

Nolan’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“I’m eighteen, Mom,” he said, stepping closer. “You can tell me everything. If I’m going to lead this family… I need to know what I’m dealing with.”

His hands clenched at his sides.

Layla studied him for a moment before letting out a soft breath.

“Alright,” she said. “Come here.”

She retrieved the documents and placed them on the table.

“I believe this won’t break your spirit…”

Nolan approached but stopped just short of touching them, his gaze scanning the pages.

“Is this… everything wrong with the land I’m supposed to inherit?”

“I’m afraid so,” she replied gently. “You can take a closer look.”

But Nolan hesitated, stepping back slightly.

“…You don’t want to see?” she asked.

“It’s not that,” he said quickly, lowering his gaze. “I’m just worried I might lose them… and cause more trouble for you.”

Layla smiled faintly. “Don’t worry. We have copies stored in the basement. Even if you lose those, nothing will be lost.”

She handed the documents to him.

“Go on.”

“…Thank you, Mother.”

He accepted them carefully, holding them behind his back as if afraid they might vanish. After a small bow, he turned and left.

Layla watched him go, a soft smile forming.

“He really is growing…”

Outside her door, Nolan stood still, staring at the documents in his hands.

“They didn’t disappear…”

A thought crossed his mind.

“System… can you copy this information?”

A chime echoed softly.

[System Activated]

Information can be stored in the database. No skills or abilities will be gained.

“I see…”

“Then store it.”

[Transferring Data…]

[Transfer Complete]

Without hesitation, flames ignited in his hand, reducing the documents to ash.

“Now then…” he muttered, his expression darkening, “let’s see what this story really has for me.”

Later that night, Nolan stood alone in the training ground.

Sweat dripped from his body as he practiced relentlessly, his shirt discarded, his breath heavy. Blue mana gathered around his hand.

“Water Splash…”

A small wave surged forward, crashing into the targets and soaking them completely before fading away.

He staggered slightly.

“Damn… I’m out of mana…”

The system glowed faintly before him—his mana at zero, a red timer counting down five hours for recovery.

“I guess physical training it is…”

He dropped to the ground and started push-ups.

“One… two… three…”

At ten, his arms gave out and he collapsed.

“You might not know this,” a voice said calmly, “but pushing your body like that without mana is just asking for death.”

Nolan rolled onto his back and looked up.

“Ralph…”

The man approached, holding out two bottles of water.

“Here. Drink.”

Nolan sat up, taking the bottle with a faint smile. “Thanks.”

He drank deeply, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Then his expression shifted serious.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” he said quietly.

“This… is important.”