The Genius Mage Was Reincarnated Into A Swordsman Family

Three days after Klaus's revelations shook the Lionhart council, Roman stood before a massive map of the Runiya continent, red markers indicating the spread of information that would reshape political relationships across every known kingdom. The decision had been unanimous, if reluctant—Sabrina Petrova's threat demanded continental response.

"Post the bounty notices in every major city," Roman commanded, his voice carrying authority that brooked no delay. "One hundred thousand gold pieces for information leading to her capture. Two hundred thousand for confirmed location of Obsidian Hand operations."

The amounts were staggering—enough to purchase entire merchant fleets or fund military campaigns. Yet given Sabrina's demonstrated capabilities, even such ridiculous sums seemed modest payment for intelligence that might prevent continental devastation.

Within hours, bounty notices appeared on every public board throughout the Rikxia Empire. Town criers announced the unprecedented reward while merchants carried news along trade routes that connected every major settlement. The message was simple yet terrifying: the Blood Witch of children's nightmares had returned, she had attacked the imperial family, and she remained at large.

Panic spread through the empire's population like wildfire. In taverns and markets, frightened conversations replaced normal business discussions. Parents clutched their children closer while merchants delayed travel plans. The stories that had once entertained children around evening fires suddenly carried weight of documented reality.

"My grandmother always said Sabrina Petrova would return when the blood moon rises," whispered one baker to his neighbor. "She's come for the empire's heart, just like the old stories warned."

"They say she killed foreign princes right in the imperial ballroom," replied another citizen with terror that made his voice shake. "If she can reach the Lionhart family itself, nowhere is safe."

The news traveled with supernatural speed across trade networks that connected every corner of the continent. Within days, reports of the Blood Witch's return reached kingdoms that had celebrated her supposed death for over a century. Fear that had been relegated to folklore suddenly demanded immediate political response.

In the Stone Monarchy's capital, emergency sessions convened as reports arrived describing destruction that defied conventional understanding. The Fire Kingdom's council chambers buzzed with urgent discussions about threats that exceeded every defensive preparation. Even distant nations began reconsidering border security when faced with enemy who had casually eliminated diplomatic representatives under imperial protection.

Yet as panic about Sabrina spread, another revelation created equally serious concern among continental powers. Reports from surviving dignitaries painted disturbing picture of the Rikxia Empire's hidden capabilities—two young princes who commanded power that transcended normal classification entirely.

* * *

In the Lionhart war room, the council faced decisions that would determine their family's future relationship with cosmic forces. The debate had raged for hours, pragmatic considerations warring with idealistic concerns about the nature of power and responsibility.

"We cannot simply pretend these connections don't exist," argued Lord Chancellor Drayden with typical analytical precision. "Alex and Klaus represent resources that could determine our empire's survival in conflicts that operate beyond conventional frameworks."

"Resources?" Lord Commander Steele's military background colored his perspective with tactical assessment. "They're also potential liabilities that could attract attention we're unprepared to manage. What happens when other entities decide our family poses sufficient threat to warrant elimination?"

Roman listened to arguments that encompassed philosophy, strategy, and survival with equal weight. The decision they reached would affect not merely family policy but continental stability for generations to come.

"The choice cannot be made for them," he stated finally, frost patterns around his chair reflecting internal tension despite outward composure. "Klaus and Alex must decide their own relationships with Pride and Gluttony. However, their obligations to House Lionhart and the Rikxia Empire remain absolute. They may pursue transcendence, but they will do so as loyal members of this family."

The compromise satisfied no one completely yet provided framework that most could accept. Rather than attempting to control forces beyond their understanding, they would establish boundaries that protected imperial interests while acknowledging cosmic realities they couldn't change.

"Furthermore," Roman continued with voice that carried weight of final decision, "these connections may prove beneficial rather than merely dangerous. Having vessels for such entities aligned with our interests could provide advantages that outweigh risks. Better to have them as allies than potential enemies."

Beneath diplomatic language lay uncomfortable truth—fear motivated their decision as much as strategic calculation. If Klaus and Alex represented unprecedented threats, keeping them loyal offered more security than attempting opposition that might prove futile.

* * *

Two hundred kilometers northeast, in the Stone Monarchy's fortress capital, King Granite received reports that transformed diplomatic concerns into existential fears. His scarred features, marked by decades of conflicts against supernatural threats, showed strain that exceeded anything previous crises had generated.

"Read it again," he commanded his intelligence minister, though each repetition only confirmed nightmare scenario that threatened everything his kingdom had built.

"The Rikxia Empire's youngest princes demonstrated capabilities that exceeded our highest threat assessments," Minister Flint reported with professional precision that couldn't mask underlying alarm. "Individual power sufficient to reshape battlefield conditions through personal action. Energy manifestations that caused structural damage to reinforced imperial architecture. Combat capabilities that rendered conventional military response irrelevant."

King Granite's massive fists clenched as implications became clear. "Two of them. Two princes with such power, in single generation."

"The pattern suggests intentional cultivation rather than natural occurrence," added General Ironwall, whose expertise in military analysis now seemed inadequate for threats that transcended normal classification. "The statistical probability of such concentration appearing randomly approaches zero."

The conclusion was inescapable and terrifying—House Lionhart was deliberately creating beings whose individual capabilities exceeded army-scale potential. Whether through magical enhancement, alien influence, or something else entirely, the imperial family had achieved breakthrough that rendered traditional power balance obsolete.

"What are our options?" King Granite asked with question that encompassed survival rather than mere political maneuvering.

"Limited," General Ironwall admitted with honesty that carried decades of tactical experience now confronting scenario that exceeded every contingency. "If they possess two such individuals currently, with potential for additional enhancement in future family members, conventional military response becomes meaningless."

The implications cascaded through their consciousness like avalanche gaining momentum. If the Rikxia Empire commanded multiple beings with continental-level destructive potential, what did that mean for neighboring kingdoms? How could traditional diplomacy function when one party possessed forces that could eliminate entire opposing nations?

* * *

Similar discussions occurred in the Fire Kingdom's war chambers, where King Blaze studied reports that painted equally disturbing picture of imperial capabilities. His own experience with supernatural enhancement provided context that made Lionhart achievements seem even more threatening.

"Our agents confirm both princes demonstrated power that exceeded our classification systems," reported Spymaster Ember with intelligence background that encompassed decades of monitoring imperial activities. "The energy signatures detected suggest enhancement beyond anything our research has achieved."

Queen Inferno, whose magical expertise complemented her husband's political acumen, studied tactical reports with growing alarm. "The younger prince's capabilities approached what we would expect from legendary artifacts, yet he appeared to generate such effects through personal ability alone."

"And the older prince?" King Blaze inquired, though he suspected the answer would prove equally unsettling.

"Even more concerning," Spymaster Ember replied with professional assessment that barely concealed personal fear. "Witnesses describe power that operated on fundamentally different level—reality manipulation rather than enhanced energy projection."

The Fire Kingdom's rulers exchanged glances that carried weight of shared understanding. They had invested decades in magical research designed to enhance their military capabilities, yet Lionhart achievements suggested they had been working with toys while enemies developed weapons of mass destruction.

"The pattern indicates systematic development rather than accidental discovery," Queen Inferno observed with academic precision applied to scenario that threatened everything they valued. "House Lionhart has achieved breakthrough that provides overwhelming strategic advantage."

King Blaze rose from his throne with movement that scattered flames across obsidian floor, his emotional control wavering as implications became clear. "They're farming monsters," he declared with voice that carried royal authority now confronting forces that might render such authority meaningless. "Creating weapons that could eliminate any opposition."

Across the continent, similar conclusions emerged from intelligence analysis that painted consistent picture of imperial capabilities that exceeded every previous threat assessment. From ocean kingdoms to mountain strongholds, ruling councils reached identical recognition—the Rikxia Empire had achieved power concentration that threatened existing political order.

Fear replaced curiosity as motivating force behind diplomatic calculations. Where kingdoms had once competed for trade advantages or territorial gains, they now faced existential question about survival in world where single family commanded individuals whose capabilities transcended normal limitation.

In secret chambers and private meetings, whispered conversations began exploring options that had been unthinkable mere days before. If the Rikxia Empire possessed such overwhelming advantages, what actions might prove necessary to restore balance before their dominance became absolute?

The seeds of mistrust had been planted in soil prepared by fear and watered by misunderstanding. While House Lionhart grappled with cosmic forces beyond their control, neighboring powers interpreted their family's situation as deliberate strategy for continental domination.

War clouds gathered on political horizon as kingdoms that had coexisted for generations began viewing imperial prosperity as existential threat requiring desperate response. The Lionhart family's attempts to manage transcendent forces had inadvertently created perception of aggressive expansion that would demand resolution through means that respected only strength.

Continental fear had found focus in imperial power, and fear demanded action regardless of truth underlying its foundation.

The stage was set for conflicts that would test whether cosmic enhancement could overcome mortal armies motivated by survival itself.