Chaotic Sword God
Apocalypse Gacha
Necromancer: I Am A Disaster
Martial Cultivator
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Nightmare Assault
I, The Dragon Overlord
Loser System and Berserker Me
Horror Game Designer
There's Absolutely No Problem With The Magic Cards I Made!
Swear Fealty To Me, My Subjects!
The Hero Turned Into A Potato And The World Fell To Ruin
Chaotic Sword God
Chapter 3830: Traversing Through Outer Space
Horror Game Designer
Chapter 326: Selection
Nightmare Assault
Chapter 248: Organisation
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1177- Situation change
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1176- Eighth
Snow-Kissed Rose (GL)
Chapter 19
Martial Cultivator
Chapter 622: Natural Disasters and Man-made Calamities
Horror Game Designer
Chapter 325: City One Can't Leave
Nightmare Assault
Chapter 247: The Past is Like the Wind
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1175- Don't discriminate
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Chapter 946: Fatal Strike
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1174- Divide
Snow-Kissed Rose (GL)
Chapter 18
The Hero Turned Into A Potato And The World Fell To Ruin
Chapter 78: This Fight Will Never End
The Demon King is Too Unfathomable!
Chapter 33: a.0.3 Update! Skills System
Martial Cultivator
Chapter 621: Meeting an Old Friend
Chaotic Sword God
Chapter 3829: An Answer
Nightmare Assault
Chapter 246: What are you Waiting For?
Regardless of which world or era one was in, the most important job a leader had to fulfill was to build a common sense of identity and a mission for their people. The Ascart House had been working hard on this for the past thousand years now.
However, instilling a sense of identity would have to start from within. Most patriarchs would usually leave some sort of heritage item for their descendants as a proof of existence and to pass on their legacy, and the most common proof was, of course, their portrait.
My son knows what I look like. My grandson knows what I look like. What about my great-grandson and great-great-grandson then?
Even the longest living transcendent couldn’t live forever. In order to eternalize their dignified stature, so that later generations might look upon their visage with reverence(?), the patriarchs of the Ascart House would usually hire an artist to do a portrait of them during their prime—around 20 to 30 years of age—and these portraits would be stored in the vault.
Roel used to look at those portraits often in his younger years. Not reverently, of course. What could a little brat possibly know of respect?
Just like most other rascals, the younger Roel had a sharp eye for judging people by their appearances, having once held a ‘beauty contest’ for the portraits. Of them, there was one particular portrait that left him with the deepest impression.
It was the portrait that depicted an ancestor whose name had spread far and wide several centuries ago, Winstor Ascart.
Winstor’s Adventure, this was the name of a book that was often read to Roel in his younger years. Later, when he awakened his bloodline, his curiosity about this ancestor, who had also awakened his bloodline too, further deepened.
It had been several centuries since Winstor’s era, so it was inevitable that many of the records concerning him were no longer around. Nevertheless, Roel still remembered his face clearly, which was why he could recognize him right away in the vision.
“I never thought that ‘Fief Lord’ would actuall
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