Philip Dayton L'Eyre Montserrat was a man whom had been born the third son of the Baron Montserrat, a low-level noble of the Re-Estize Kingdom. Under typical circumstances he would have been relegated to being a farmer. However when the second son of the Baron had died of disease, he became the "main spare" of the current heir, thus elevating him to the position of "will become a butler". Philip however, had other plans. He was a man of true and unfathomable wisdom and knowledge. At the age of just 32, he become a first tier magic caster thanks to the hard work and sheer dedication he put into learning such powerful sorcery. He could summon fire and wind elementals, he could heal people, in exchange for the vast majority of his mana, he could cast spells of the second tier.
*Yes, I can bend the laws of reality themselves!* he thought to himself. It had taken him many years to become as powerful as he had been, though perhaps it could have gone quicker if he had read the books rather than just staring at them and thinking about what he would do with the power.
Every day he thanked the gods for his brothers death. His brother's death is what would bring him the throne of the Montserrat domain, for sure!

And no where was this new found faithful behavior to be more observed than when he did his typical walk through the village. It was not a long walk, to be sure, because Philip did not have any real joy in walking. "A good ruler should be seen amongst his people." He said outloud to himself. Of course, the Montserrat domain wasn't rich. Infact there was few people that even bothered to look up. *Their loss.* Philip thought to himself. *One day I will be their ruler, and then they will be forced to look upon my glory!*.

Just then, he saw a villager running up to him. "L-lord Philip!" he cried out. *Well this should be amusing. Good that he addressed me as "lord" indeed.* He considered as a smile crossed his face. "Yes, what's wrong?" he asked. "My lord, one of our horses is wounded, please come quick!" the man finished, gasping for air. Tsk. Philip had been healing the villagers free of charge, so long as they addressed him as "Lord" and showed him the utmost respect. This way, he was hoping to rally support for when he took power from his brother. However coming before someone like himself to heal a horse? How disrespectful. Under normal circumstances, he would turn down the offer but if he thought about it, a horse was expensive and could do lots of work that would enable the commoners to earn more money, which in turn Philip would take some 80% of when he took power. Yes, when you think about it that way, it is a perfectly reasonable thing to do. An investment in himself more than anything else. "Do lead the way." Philip responded after a moment of consideration.

xxx

"Ah, thank you lord." the commoner said outside the stinking barn Philip and he had just exited. "Yes, yes of course." Philip answered, paying the main no mind at all. *Damn it! This stench will stick to my clothes all day! Should have let the nasty animal die.* He thought.

"By the way Lord, if you don't mind my asking, will you be going with us to the war?" the man asked sheepishly. Of course, the man didn't really know what to think of Philip. Before he had gained his small measure of magic he had been a do nothing with absolutely no purpose in life other than to eat at the Baron's table. However, after he had his magic a few months ago he seemed to change, as he now helped the villagers, simply saying it was his "desire" to help the people. Some had accepted it with gratitude, others kept their suspicions. If Philip was with them in the battle, he would surely heal some of them and increase their chances of survival.

"War?" asked Philip, now disregarding his clothes and the stench in his nose. Of course no noblemen really died in the wars with the Empire. They had always stayed in the back of the lines and simply barked orders to the conscripted levies. "Yes Lord, your father has issues an order for mobilization. We will be leaving in a week." the man said. "Is that so... I don't know if I'll be going but I will ask. I'll be heading back home now." Philip said, now no longer interested in the conversation.

*Ah. War.* He thought to himself quietly walking back to the Montserrat manor. Philip smirked. If every noble had power like his, then every noble could use the spell [Summon 2nd - Guardian Angel] and defeat the Empire entirely. If his brother had died in the wars with the Empire,
Philip wouldn't physically be capable of being happier. He would be the heir without question as unlikely as that situation would be. As it stood now, he had to think of a way to kill his brother himself. He had considered hiring an assassin, but he didn't have the money for that. Or much money at all for that matter. However powerful he was, he could hardly get himself so far off the ground if he was broke. Just then it struck him. It was so simple. So clear, so percise and yet so bafflingly intelligent that Philip had to physically stop walking for a moment to admire the beauty of his idea.
He would go to the war, and during the height of the chaos, he would use a spell of the second tier to slay his brother. A shiver went down his spine. This was the way. If he completed this task then he would become the new Baron by this time next year surely as his father was getting on in years.

He approached the doors of the manor conceiving of a mighty speech to move his fathers heart, and he demanded he be sent to the war himself. As he climbed the steps to the painted oak door he imagined himself climbing the steps to the Throne of the Re-Estize Kingdom.
"[Odorless]" he cast on himself to hide the smell of shit as he opened the door.