Elise''s POV:
Master Lucien was acting strange today. When I went to wake him, he surprised me by deciding to join the family for breakfast. It was so unlike him.
In the past, he had repeatedly told me how much he hated being around them.
I couldn''t help but wonder—what had changed?
When he walked out of the bathroom today, he looked different—almost like a completely different person.
He seemed… oddly mature. There was something in the way he carried himself, the way his gaze lingered just a moment longer when he looked at me. It made my heart skip, though I quickly brushed the feeling aside.
I hurried through my breakfast, barely tasting a thing, just so I wouldn''t miss him.
As he stepped out the door, there was a rare sense of satisfaction on his face.
I thought… maybe they had reconciled.
A warmth spread through my chest at the thought. If they had truly made amends, then Master Lucien would finally be treated as he deserved—acknowledged as the rightful master of this house.
But just as that hope settled in, I noticed something strange.
He didn''t have the locket.
The locket he cherished—almost more than his own life—was missing.
A seed of unease spread within me.
Maybe he forgot it?
Yes, that seems likely…
Master Lucien was meticulous when it came to that locket. I had seen him check for it countless times, his fingers instinctively reaching for it as if to reassure himself that it was still there. For him to leave without it… it didn''t feel right.
Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks.
I almost ran into him, caught off guard by his abrupt halt. My heart pounded as I took a step back, watching him closely. His posture stiffened for a brief moment before he exhaled, shoulders relaxing again.
What was that just now? Did he realize he had forgotten the locket? Would he turn back to get it?
Instead, he surprised me again.
With a calmness that felt entirely out of place, he declared that he was going to the training grounds.
I blinked, certain I had misheard him. The training grounds?
The same training grounds where he had suffered wounds that still marred his body?
Surely not… right? That place is detestable and loathsome.
Those brutes—what they did to my Master Lucien…
But as I stared at Master Lucien''s calm, collected face, a seed of doubt took root.
He wasn''t just calm—he seemed absorbed in something, lost in thought in a way I had never seen before. His sharp eyes, which usually held a quiet defiance or simmering frustration, were steady, focused. It was unsettling… yet somehow fascinating.
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I had always known him to be guarded, someone who kept the world at arm''s length. But today, there was something different about him—something I couldn''t quite grasp. My fingers twitched at my sides, an odd restlessness creeping in.
Nonetheless, without questioning him, I led him to the training grounds. But as we walked, I found myself stealing glances at him, drawn in by that unfamiliar air of certainty around him. What had changed?
And more importantly… why did it make my heart feel this way?
Everything was going normally, and for once, I was even enjoying my time with Master Lucien.
Until Master Derrick arrived.
Truth be told, although I shouldn''t think this way, I hate Master Derrick.
He beats Master Lucien, makes him cry. No matter how much I tell myself it isn''t my place to judge, I can''t help it. I really, really hate him.
I tried to stop Master Lucien, urging him not to engage with Master Derrick, but he remained unfazed.
There was no hesitation, no trace of the fear I had seen so many times before. Instead, he carried himself with bold confidence, his expression unreadable, as if Derrick was nothing more than a passing nuisance. He didn''t even look scared.
I was taken aback by such a change. This wasn''t the Master Lucien I knew.
My heart pounded as Master Lucien and Derrick clashed, my eyes widening as Lucien skillfully dodged each of Derrick''s strikes. Just when it seemed he would be hit, he deflected the attack effortlessly—almost as if he had foreseen it.
Even while defending, Master Lucien moved with an air of control, dictating the pace of the fight. Nothing could go wrong.
But then, Derrick''s aura flared—he had started using mana. My breath caught. I knew Master Lucien had little mana to spare, and as the elder, Derrick naturally had far more. If that strike landed, it would break bone.
Horrified by the implications, I bolted toward the referee. Shouted to stop them but the referee didn''t move. He didn''t listen.
My heart ached, a sharp, twisting pain tightening in my chest. I closed my eyes, unwilling to watch what came next. The weight of helplessness pressed down on me, every instinct screaming to intervene—but what could I do?
The sounds of battle filled the air: the sharp clash of steel, the heavy thud of footsteps, and Derrick''s mana-charged strike slicing through the space between them. I clenched my fists. If that attack landed…
A sharp scream cut through the air.
I forced my eyes open, dread pooling in my stomach.
And found myself facing an incomprehensible sight.
Derrick lay sprawled on the ground, his blood dripping from his trembling hand. His face was contorted in agony, twisted with rage and disbelief. A guttural, animalistic scream tore from his throat, snot and tears streaking his face as he writhed.
And yet—Master Lucien stood untouched.
Calm. Unshaken.
His expression remained unreadable, his posture steady, as if the outcome had never been in question.
Everyone snapped out of it and helped Master Derrick, they shouted and blamed master Lucien. But I couldn''t move, lost in thought.
How?
Master Lucien—who had never wielded a blade, who had never so much as harmed a fly—stood there, composed, unshaken.
The very man who once refused violence now loomed over Derrick, untouched by the chaos around him.
It didn''t make sense.
A chill crept up my spine. The air felt heavier, charged with something I couldn''t name. There was a sudden unease, a wrongness to the stillness in his posture, the unreadable look in his eyes.
Had I truly understood Master Lucien at all?
He moved, his voice calling out to me as he walked through the gates. I followed, my mind clouded with thoughts. So lost in them, I didn''t even realize we had reached the hallway.
I called his name and found myself hesitating.
What had changed him so much? What had happened?
The questions weighed heavily on me, pressing against my chest, each one a burden I couldn''t shake. I wanted to understand him—to reach out and offer something, anything, that might ease whatever pain he carried. To tell him that he didn''t have to bear it alone.
But I couldn''t do it.
I tried. I searched for the right words, stretched out my hand.
And in the end, I only annoyed him.
As Master Lucien''s gaze turned sharp, his voice clipped, the weight of his stare pinned me in place. My resolve wavered.
I blurted out the first thing that came to mind
He slammed the door on me without a second glance.
And as I stood there, staring at the closed door, regret settled deep in my chest. I should have said something else—something that mattered.
But in the end, I only annoyed him.
That night, seeking clarity, I decided to step outside and cool my head. The fresh air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth. The rhythmic chirping of crickets filled the silence, their melody like a gentle chorus, soothing my restless mind.
Then, in the corner of my vision, something shifted.
A figure moved in the shadows.
Their silhouette seemed familiar, a vague shape I felt I should recognize.
My pulse quickened as I called out, "Who''s there?"