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edvertisementideas > Little Tyrant Doesn’t Want to Meet with a Bad End > Volume N/A - CH 153
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 actually be him.”

Roel swirled the glass of fruit wine in his hand inattentively, causing the ice cubes to clink softly. His mind was currently wandering elsewhere as great curiosity and a slightly ominous premonition gripped his mind.

Had ‘Fief Lord’ been any other patriarch of the Ascart House, Roel wouldn’t have thought much about him joining a transcendent organization. However, given that it was Winstor Ascart they were talking about here, the situation was likely to be far more important than they initially thought.

Winstor Ascart was one of the top experts among all humans back in his era, so a transcendent organization he was involved in had to be anything but ordinary. On top of that, a minor detail that Roel noticed suggested that Winstor was not the leader of the organization.

In one of the snapshots during the vision, he remembered a bunch of people, split into two sides of a long

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