《The Antagonist’s Narrator》


 Chapter 1: The Antagonist

    "¡ªAfter an exhausting battle against his fearless opponent, he finally fell to his knees, the ground cold beneath him. A deep gasp escaped his lips, a release of the tension he had held throughout the fight. As silence enveloped the arena, he smiled softly, accepting his fate. Despite the weight of defeat, a sense of relief washed over him; the relentless struggle was finally over, and in that stillness, he embraced the finality of it."


    "It seems like this is the end."


    "The voice was grasping and drying as the blood came out from the mouth, trying to speak clearly. Lawrence looked down at his opponent, who had slumped into a crumpled heap on the ground. There wasn''t much life left in his eyes anymore, but they still shone like stars, despite all that. His gaze was clear but distant."


    "Any words to say?"


    "Lawrence stood over the man, his heart a cold stone. Today marked the end of a relentless adversary who had blocked his every path and shattered his world by taking those he loved. As the man writhed in defeat, Lawrence felt a grim satisfaction. This slow, painful death was a fitting retribution, a reflection of the suffering he had caused. Years of struggle had culminated in this moment, and now, finally, his enemy was paying the price for the destruction he had wrought."


    "You killed many people for power, and now I will kill you to avenge the people you killed."


    "When he finally spoke, his words dripping with venomous intent gripping the hilt of his sword tightened, knuckles paling as he summoned every ounce of resolve within. He raised his hand toward the villain, the world around him fading into a blur as unshed tears welled in his eyes, obscuring the figure before him."


    "...."


    "The villain remained shrouded in a moment of oppressive silence, an unsettling stillness hanging heavily in the air, until at last, he broke the tension with a voice that cut through the atmosphere like a blade."


    "The real end has only just begun¡ª"


    Honk!


    The sharp blast of the train''s horn cut through the air like a knife, jarring Shin from his thoughts. He blinked rapidly, the words of the novel he had been immersed in fading into the background before it was followed by the announcement from the conductor.


    "Arriving at C3 Station, please proceed to exit onto platform 3."


    The rhythmic clatter of wheels against the tracks vibrated beneath him, a grounding reminder of the world outside the pages he had been lost in. As the train rolled into the station, the clamour of bustling passengers and the scent of the metallic rails filled the air, but it was the echoes of his dream that lingered stubbornly in his mind.


    ''That page of the novel is different from what I remember¡­''


    Before he could rethink it, Shin pulled himself from his seat and headed towards the doors leading out to the platform, pausing only briefly when his phone rang pulling it out of his pocket, he glanced at the screen¡ªit was from the Department Manager¡ªbefore pressing accept.


    "Hi, sorry, I just arrived at my place."


    ''I haven''t submitted my project yet''


    Shin worked in a government research lab, building futuristic devices to help people survive harsh conditions. It paid the bills, but the long hours left little time for anything else¡ªeven visiting his grandfather, the man who had raised him.


    The project that was supposed to be due tomorrow morning hasn''t been submitted yet because my grandpa asked me to clean his apartment and bring some things to my place in the meantime.


    "I''ll submit it when I get home"


    Shin ended the call with a short goodbye, placing the phone back in his pocket as he strode out of the train. The sun beat down on him with a fiery vengeance, the heat causing the back of Shin''s shirt to stick uncomfortably against his skin.


    The sky darkened further and the temperature dropped dramatically, causing the sweat gathering in Shin''s palms to bead up even more as he hurried down the sidewalk, his hands stuffed uncomfortably in his pockets.


    ''It''s Friday but, why does it feel is Monday, I still need to finish a lot of things today even on my day off''


    It made him wonder how long he''d have to work in the office to finish cleaning the apartment properly. It didn''t seem fair to spend hours away from home, and he already missed the familiar comfort of living alone.


    He changed his direction from the main street to the small side streets where he lived.


    His house was located on one of them, nestled between a restaurant and a bakery. Though he lived alone most of the year, he enjoyed having someone nearby.


    Listening to the sound of a busy street as the neighbourhood bustled with activity, while also having someone to talk to was nice too.


    Click¡ª


    Shin opens the door and steps inside his apartment, switching on the lights. Everything was spotless as expected, save for a few stray papers that he''d have to take care of soon. He put all his things on the table before going to the living room.


    Clicking on the switchboard to light up the room, he set about cleaning up the messes that he left in the living room before leaving for work later that morning.


    ''I wonder what Old man is doing now...''


    He thought with a frown. He had promised him that he would come visit every day, but due to being overworked in the office and lack of sleep, he had barely made it. Now that the week was coming to an end he was feeling guilty.


    ''After all, I wasn''t exactly rich, nor did I think that I ever would be.''


    As he tidied up, his eye caught the book lying next to him. It had fallen face up when he''d taken it out earlier, the cover facing toward him. He picked up the book and saw the title imprinted on the cover:


    ''The Seventh War''


    Is none other than the novel he found in his grandpa''s bookshelf. The one that reminded him of the old vivid dreams of his childhood memories. It is the story of a young main character, Lawrence Hill, who begins his journey when the antagonist destroys and kills his family, who is under the control of the villain. Lawrence trains and travels far, gaining followers and friends who help him defeat the villain.


    ''It''s been a long time since I saw this book again''


    It was the book that his grandfather had read to him during his childhood. Since he was a lost child, only the old man took care of him, making him not worry about seeing his parents again.


    The book was one that he''d always liked to read back when he was young, But when his parents found him they took Shin away from his grandparents and brought him back to their home to live with them.


    ''My grandfather became alone after my parents took me away, and lived with them along with my siblings, but. I still want to stay in that cosy warm fireplace with my grandpa rereading the novel''


    Shin promised to visit him every day to take care of him, and it was also the day that everything changed for him.


    After seeing the novel again he couldn''t help but feel a sense of nostalgia at seeing the cover again, although he hadn''t seen the book since he was 7 years old.


    Flop¡ª


    Sitting down in his chair next to the open glass window. He flipped through it, and he recalled something odd after reading it again. It was the same feeling when he reread it at his grandpa''s apartment. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    At first, he ignored it, believing that it was something insignificant, but the more he read the text on the page, the more he began to realise it was different than how he remembered it. The words felt wrong somehow.


    "I think it''s because it''s been a long time since I''ve read the plot¡­"


    Shin muttered absently, running a hand through his hair distractedly as he continued to read. The words on the page blurred together, and eventually, he stopped reading altogether. His thoughts trailed off as he stared blankly at nothing in particular.


    He turns to the side of his computer and clicks on the file where his project is currently laid out. His fingers hovered over the mouse as his eyes roamed around the files in front of him. He closed his eyes and leaned against the chair slightly.


    He had never given this matter much consideration until now, but looking at the current situation, it seems like it won''t be possible to finish the project before the deadline. Nonetheless, he needed to finish his work as soon as possible.


    If he finishes his work, then he can visit Grandpa, which will be a nice distraction.


    After finishing it, he took a deep breath; he exhaled deeply before leaning against the chair once more and opening his eyes. He felt like all of his thoughts were focused on today.


    ''I wonder if I''m forgetting them or just plain losing touch¡­''


    Shin glanced at the book resting beside him, staring down at it with an almost vacant look in his eyes¡ªhis gaze distant as the sun finally went down slowly the horizon turned deep red glowing in the distance.


    The red glowing light slowly covered Shin''s view as if it was going to swallow him whole and engulf everything in sight.


    He could feel the hot air surrounding him, and the smell of burning wood and ashes filling his nose. He couldn''t move or speak; the only movement was from his eyes flickering about and trying to keep his consciousness intact.


    "...¡ª!!!"


    Then he could hear voices calling from somewhere that he couldn''t hear clearly as he tried to breathe normally.


    They grew closer, he thought to himself before fading into darkness. Then a hand held onto him firmly, shaking him awake.


    "Wake up¡ª"


    Ah!


    Shin awoke with a startle from a nightmare, breathing heavily as he sat up on his bed, clutching his sheets and looking around wildly. Sweat dripped down from his forehead and cheeks as he tried to catch his breath, gasping for air. The nightmare he just had haunted him relentlessly.


    ''What the hell was that?!''


    He exclaimed as he rubbed at his eyes, feeling completely disoriented. He couldn''t shake off the fear that gripped his heart at that moment. His breathing started to grow irregular as his hands shook.


    ''That damn dream again!''


    He looked around the dark room frantically, desperately searching for the source of the dream. When he finally saw everything clearly when the bright moonlight fell through the curtains, his heart jumped out of his throat as he stood there frozen in place, staring dumbfounded at the mirror on the side of the bed.


    "Who is that?"


    ''And this isn''t my apartment looked like''


    Shin thought to himself as he stared at the reflection in the mirror. His hair colour is darker and has quite long strands, and his eyes were not black but deep purple hue, showing signs of fatigue and tiredness. It looked as if someone had attacked him during the night.


    His skin was pale white and his clothes consisted of simple white shirts and pants. After checking himself he looked back at the mirror again and pinched his cheek with the tips of his fingertips as he inspected himself in detail.


    "Ow¡­"


    He mumbled as he pulled his hand away, noticing how it hurt. Then that''s what hit him,that the person he sees in the mirror is actually him!. His mouth agape as his eyes widened.


    "Oh fuck¡­"


    His mind raced, processing his current situation. He''s sitting on his bed staring at himself in horror, unable to believe what''s in front of him.


    He doesn''t know why, but the fact that he''s able to recognize himself in the mirror scares him to no end.


    "This is me?."


    He didn''t remember anything of what happened to him;He thought that he had fallen asleep after finishing his work and then dreamed about the same dream that kept on repeating itself over again since his childhood,but that couldn''t have been real, right?.


    That must have been a nightmare!


    More importantly, Why did he wake up in somebody''s body!? This isn''t what happens to people who have nightmares!


    ''Alright, let''s calm down and figure it out everything¡ª"


    As Arlon blinked into the mirror, still not quite believing the face staring back at him, then he felt he touched a hard object and noticing that it felt strange to the touch, something strange happened.


    A faint glow emerged in the corner of his vision, drawing his attention away from the reflection.


    A shimmering golden screen floated in front of him, translucent yet vibrant, with letters slowly forming across its surface. The words it displayed were chillingly familiar¡ªhis own actions.


    ["Arlon Throndsen woke up and checked his reflection in the mirror. Confusion clouded his thoughts as he noticed the unfamiliar face staring back"]


    "Arlon Throndsen," Shin muttered under his breath, the name sending a chill through him. It couldn''t be. He was him¡ªthe ruthless heir manipulated by the Pry cult. The same Arlon whose tragic rise and fall he had read about countless times.


    He continued to read the words on the golden glowing screen.


    [¡ªHe keep looking back at his reflection ¡ªArlon was confused to find out what he realised¡ª]


    ''No way...''


    Shin continues until he reaches the end, but it keeps adding more and more words matching his actions,reactions, expressions,and thoughts.


    He continued to read on, but he suddenly noticed that the screen that looked like a page was shaking slightly and that the characters on the golden screen became distorted as if they were trying to make sense of whatever Shin was reading.


    As if he wasn''t supposed to read the words written on it. His heart started to pound rapidly against his ribcage.


    ["Arlon Thondsen is me¡ª"]


    Knock Knock Knock¡­


    He was about to take a deep breath to clear away his doubts, but he abruptly stopped when he heard a knock from the door that echoed throughout his entire flat dark shade room, he froze in place unable to let out the breath that had been stuck in his chest, his heart hammering violently in his chest as the door opened slowly, revealing a blurry figure standing at the entrance of the room.


    "My Lord, are you awake?"


    The figure walks toward Shin''s bed with footsteps that sound heavy and steady. Its outline grew clearer as the figure got closer, but the dark shade of the room prevented Shin from making out the person. However, the golden screen didn''t begin to stop flickering; the scene continued to write itself following every minute of the situation.


    [¡ª He approached Arlon, who didn''t answer him, ¡ª''It''s about time to wake him up''. Dimitri Miller stood next to Arlon''s bed¡ª]


    Shin''s hand instantly flew up to his chest and his mouth hung agape. In front of him, an unfamiliar male in a suit and glasses walked in with an indifferent expression on his face, making him look unbothered.


    ''Dimitri Miller''


    Shin gaped silently as the stranger stood in front of his bed. His lips parted, yet he couldn''t utter a single word due to the shock and panic that invaded his mind and caused his heartbeat to accelerate. But the longer he stayed silent, the stranger''s eyebrows furrowed as he took slow steps toward Shin.


    "It''s time to get up and get ready for today, My Lord"


    Dimitri Miller said quietly as he stood in front of Shin''s bed as if waiting for him to do something, but Shin just looked up with a blank stare; his mind was full of thoughts as he slowly understood everything.


    ''If I wake up as Arlon Thondsen, who I know as an antagonist of the novel The Seventh War, and then it''s clear that I transmigrate into his body!''


    It seems this is a good thing for all readers to be part of the world of fiction, but not for Shin¡ª I''m going to play the Antagonist who was destined to die at the hands of the Protagonist!.


    Arlon Throndsen was the eldest son of Grand Duke Ciel Throndsen and heir to the Grand Duchy of Throndsen family. However, everything changed when he encountered the evil organisation and the Sun Empire Crown Prince manipulated him.


    The Crown Prince was secretly part of an ancient, fallen cult called Pry, which worshipped a forbidden deity known as the Chained God, Celestia. Secretly an evil organisation.


    Under the Crown Prince''s influence, Arlon became ruthless under the cult''s control, Arlon became a ruthless killer, showing no compassion as he carried out their dark deeds. He was like a relentless hunting dog¡ªuntil fate led him to cross paths with Lawrence, altering the course of his life.


    And this man standing before me is Dimitri Miller, a side character woven into the fabric of my life as Arlon Throndsen. Known for his strict demeanour and enigmatic presence, he was more than just a servant; he was a powerful mage, his magical prowess whispered about among the nobility. With sharp features often set in a stoic expression, Dimitri exuded an air of authority that demanded respect.


    When Arlon finally rose as heir, Dimitri vanished without a trace, leaving the household to wonder if his loyalty was deeper¡ªor more complicated¡ªthan they thought.


    If only he got to transmigrate to a side character or someone who had no relation to the main protagonist, things would have been easier.


    ''Never mind, I don''t have a choice for now, this is just the first day and nothing bad will happen to me if I don''t act like Arlon''


    Dimitri was about to speak when Arlon didn''t answer him, then Arlon stood up from his bed and walked past Dimitri without saying anything to him as he headed toward the bathroom.


    Dimitri was taken aback by Arlon''s sudden change, watching him leave his side. He fixes his glasses on his nose bridge before heading toward the exit as well.


    Shhh-


    The soft hum of the shower filled the bathroom as Arlon let the warm water stream down, clearing his thoughts. He ran his fingers through his dark, the warm droplets cascaded over him, washing away the last traces of sleep. Stepping out, he wrapped himself in a towel and moved to the mirror, gripping the cool edge of the sink as he examined his reflection.


    As expected of a face of an Antagonist.


    he thought, a wry smile playing at the corners of his lips.


    Sunlight filtered in, casting his face in a soft, golden glow. His hair, still damp, fell over his forehead in loose strands that he carefully brushed back. His skin held a pale tone with hints of warmth from his daily training outdoors, a contrast that made his features look all the more striking.


    What drew his attention most were his eyes. Deep violet and intense, they seemed to hold the secrets of the world, swirling with emotions that ranged from determination to despair.


    ''But regardless of his backgrounds''


    Shin stared at his reflection, his violet eyes dark with emotion. This wasn''t a dream. This was his reality now.


    "From now on," he whispered, a wry smile tugging at his lips, "I''m Arlon Throndsen¡ªthe antagonist."


    And if the world wanted him to die? He''d rewrite the story himself.

 Chapter 2: The Noble鈥檚 Routine

    As the first light of dawn spread across the sky, the tranquil morning scene was bathed in a palette of soft pastel hues. The golden rays of the sun gently illuminated every corner of the villa and the surrounding landscape, casting a warm and ethereal glow.


    Arlon came out of the bathroom feeling refreshed after his bath wearing a robe. He walked to the window and looked around, noticing that the skies were starting to brighten up.


    It had been a long time since he woke up with such pleasant sensations in the morning. It seemed that the clouds and rain had left during the night, leaving only a beautiful blue sky filled with white fluffy clouds.


    Perched on the southern edge of the Throndsen estate, the villa had become Arlon''s gilded cage¡ªa place of exile disguised as luxury.


    It was his father''s property, nestled near the lake, far from the bustling capital. Arlon had been sent here to quarantine for five long months, exiled after causing trouble among the nobles. They could no longer tolerate his reckless behaviour, and the villa became a convenient solution to distance him from their affairs.


    The reason why Arlon act like that because of the pressure the nobles putting him after his father die, he was pressured into taking over the position of the Duke.


    Knock¡ªKnock


    "My Lord",a voice interrupted.


    Flutter¡ª


    ["Dimitri entered the room after he knocked at the door, seeing Arlon finished his bath waiting for him. He walk forward until he was behind Arlon,"]


    Suddenly, the golden screen flickered before Arlon''s eyes, capturing his attention. His thoughts froze. The screen¡ªan unnatural presence¡ªhad appeared again. He turned his gaze toward Dimitri, eyes wide with surprise.


    Dimitri, his loyal attendant, entered the room after knocking lightly on the door. He approached quietly, as he always did, his presence a comfort in the stillness of the villa. Dimitri''s sharp gaze fell on Arlon, who had finished his bath and stood silently by the window, lost in thought.


    "What''s wrong?" Dimitri asked, his voice laced with concern.


    "Nothing," Arlon replied quickly, masking his unease. But his heart raced, the words on the screen shifting once more, narrating from Dimitri''s perspective.


    So, it only shows a third-person viewpoint, Arlon thought, trying to make sense of the bizarre phenomenon.


    "Are you alright, My Lord?" Dimitri pressed, his voice soft but insistent. "You''ve been quiet since you arrived here. Are you not pleased with the awakening of your ability?"


    Arlon scoffed inwardly. His "ability"? The so-called power to control people was nothing but a facade¡ªa lie he had woven to maintain the image of strength. In this world, there were two types of powers that people could possess after their awakening: cursed and blessed gifts.


    The cursed awakener has incredible physical strength they could shift into any form into another person or animal and other that enchant their physical bodies, while the blessed awakener wielded magical abilities like manipulating elements, healing wounds, crafting potions and relics.


    As for Arlon Throndsen, as the son of a Grand Duke, was supposed to have inherited a cursed ability from his father. He had claimed that his eyes turned gold when his power activated, giving him the ability to cast a curse of anyone who looked into them. But it was all an act.


    He wore a mask, hiding the truth¡ªthere was no real power, only deception. He had never awakened anything. It was a clever performance that kept people at bay, kept them in fear of what he might do.


    "I''m fine," Arlon replied, but his voice was cold, distant.


    ["Dimitri''s frown deepened. "You''re sure? You''ve always been calm under pressure, but something feels off."he protest inwardly in passing didn''t want to urge his lord."]


    "..."


    Arlon found himself in a comical predicament, one he never signed up for. As he glanced at the golden screen flickering away like some video game glitch, he quickly snapped back to reality.


    Arlon Throndsen wouldn''t be caught dead gawking at an invisible screen, so Arlon swallowed the awkwardness and put on his best stoic face.


    "Dimitri, get me dressed," he ordered, trying to channel the cool, distant vibes of original Arlon Throndsen. Dimitri, as obedient as ever, didn''t question it and promptly began helping him into some ridiculously elegant casual clothes.


    "..."


    He kept a straight face, though. No one could know that under this mask was a guy who would rather be in pyjamas eating chips than playing noble heir.


    Dimitri handed over the black mask, and Arlon hesitated before putting it on.


    It felt... ridiculous. This is Arlon''s trademark?


    The golden screen flickered in the corner of his vision, the words forming before his eyes.


    ["Arlon hesitated before putting on the mask, his fingers trembling."]


    Trembling? Shin scowled. He wasn''t trembling! But as the words formed, his hands betrayed him, a faint quiver running through his fingertips. The screen wasn''t just recording him¡ªit was shaping him.


    He stared at the finely crafted piece in his hands before reluctantly fitting it onto his face. It didn''t help that he could barely see out of one eye now.


    ''Great, let''s make pretending to be an aristocrat even harder.''If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Arlon remained still throughout, maintaining the calm and distant demeanour that everyone had come to associate with him. This was the mask he wore in more ways than one¡ªthe mask of Arlon Throndsen, the son of Grand Duke Ciel, the troubled heir, now hardened by the pressures of the estate and the nobles'' expectations. He couldn''t afford to let anyone, even someone as loyal as Dimitri, see any cracks in that facade.


    Once fully dressed, Dimitri gave a respectful bow, gesturing toward the door. "My Lord, breakfast is ready."


    Ah, yes, breakfast, Arlon thought, his stomach growling. At least there''s food. Fancy food. But food.


    Arlon nodded wordlessly, following Dimitri through the villa''s familiar halls, their grandeur feeling more stifling than ever.


    As they descended the stairs, the soft clink of armour from guards stationed at key points echoed faintly, adding to the weight of formality that hung over the place. The villa was grand and luxurious, but it had always felt more like a gilded cage than a home.


    They arrived in the dining room, where a lavish breakfast awaited¡ªsilver platters of fruits, bread, and meats carefully prepared. The smell of freshly brewed tea and roasted coffee filled the air, tempting and rich.


    Flop¡ª


    Arlon sat down, silently taking in the scene before him. He forced himself to slow down, taking smaller bites. Each forkful felt like a tiny performance. He had to chew with purpose, like a noble.


    ''Alright, food! This''ll keep me sane for a bit. Fancy food does taste better¡ª.''


    Dimitri interrupted his thoughts. "After breakfast, your usual sword training awaits, My Lord."


    Arlon froze mid-bite. Sword training?.


    He took a deep breath, trying not to let his panic show. Alright, calm down. Just pretend. You''ve watched movies with sword fights. How hard could it be? I mean, you just... swing the sword, right?.


    This was all part of the daily routine he had perfected over the years. The ''original'' Arlon would have done the same¡ªwake up early, maintain discipline, act as though everything was under control.


    But for someone who had once been lazy, someone who avoided unnecessary physical activity like the plague, this lifestyle was suffocating. Sword training, endless study, morning routines¡ªit was exhausting.


    ''How did the original Arlon even manage this every single day?.''


    Flutter¡ª Flutter


    The breakfast did little to erase the creeping sense of dread that lingered from the golden screen fluttering, but he pushed those thoughts away as he ate in silence, keeping up the facade of stoicism. His mind wandered to the upcoming training session.


    As soon as he finished, he stood up, his mask firmly in place, and without a word, signalled to Dimitri that it was time to move on. Dimitri, ever obedient, led him out of the dining room and toward the training grounds outside the villa. The brisk morning air greeted him as they stepped outdoors, the sky now fully illuminated by the sun, casting long shadows across the courtyard.


    Arlon, despite his internal complaints, knew that maintaining this routine was necessary. The cool wind rustled his clothes, reminding him of the task ahead. It was time to put aside his laziness and step fully into Arlon''s role. The moment they arrived, Arlon eyed the wooden swords lined up against the wall with a sinking feeling in his gut.


    Dimitri, of course, said nothing, standing off to the side with an expectant look as if this were just another routine for the Lord. Arlon took a deep breath and picked up one of the wooden swords, the weight of it feeling both familiar and completely alien in his hand.


    He tightened his grip, ready to give it a half-hearted swing¡ªhe just needed to look competent enough to fool Dimitri. But as soon as the sword was in his hand, something bizarre happened.


    Shing¡ªClink


    His body moved like it had done this a thousand times before. Without even thinking, he swung the sword with such precision that it sliced through the air and smacked straight into the training dummy in front of him. The wooden figure rocked violently, as if it were personally offended by the blow.


    Arlon froze, eyes wide, staring at the dummy. Wait... what? How did I¡­


    He blinked in disbelief, his heart racing. He hadn''t expected this. Shin had always been more of a thinker than a fighter¡ªwell, more of a lazy couch potato, if he was being honest with himself. Yet here he was, handling the wooden sword as if he''d been training for years. His arms moved with surprising fluidity, striking the training dummies with the precision of a seasoned warrior.


    Slash¡ª


    His hands moved again, as if on autopilot, launching into a series of perfectly executed strikes. Each one landed with such force and accuracy that it felt like he was watching someone else control his body. The dummies didn''t stand a chance. One after another, they fell to the ground, defeated.


    ''Okay, am I secretly a sword prodigy? Or is this just Arlon''s muscle memory kicking in?. ''


    Huff¡ªHuff


    He paused for a moment, panting slightly as he looked around at the wreckage of dummies scattered on the ground. His gaze flickered over to the golden screen, hovering like a silent observer in the corner of his vision.


    ["He swung to the left ¡ªthen forward¡ªstep to the side and forward again."]


    Is this thing... guiding me? Recording me? Or am I just that amazing?,Arlon couldn''t tell. He glanced at the screen again, hoping for some kind of clue, but all it did was flicker, showing nothing but his own actions. It wasn''t making things any clearer.


    Dimitri, of course, watched from the sidelines without so much as a raised eyebrow. Of course he''s not surprised. Arlon probably does this every morning before breakfast, while I, meanwhile, feel like I''ve just unlocked the swordsmanship version of cheat codes.


    He paused, panting slightly as he wiped sweat from his brow.


    "Who knew pretending to be a nobleman with killer sword skills would be this exhausting?!"


    Arlon shook his head, trying to focus. After a while, he called it quits, not wanting to push his luck.


    "Alright, that''s enough for today," he said, trying to sound cool and casual, though inside he was still freaking out a little about what just happened.


    Dimitri stepped forward. "Very well, my Lord. Your study awaits."


    Arlon''s stomach sank. Study session? Of course. Being a noble meant you couldn''t just fight with swords all day. Nope, there had to be books involved. Always with the books. Arlon sighed inwardly but kept his cool demeanor, still processing his weirdly successful training session as they made their way to the study room. His legs felt a little shaky¡ªnot from exhaustion, but from the sheer weirdness of it all.


    ''If I keep this up, I might actually fool everyone. Or, you know, trip over my own feet tomorrow and blow the whole thing. ''


    "Lead the way," he said, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice.


    When they arrived at the study, Dimitri excused himself for a moment, leaving Arlon alone in the massive room lined with books. He wandered over to the shelves, scanning the spines without any real interest. His mind was still half-stuck on the golden screen and his newfound sword skills.


    He pulled a random book off the shelf, hoping to distract himself. The title read The Wolf and the Sheep. He raised an eyebrow. Children''s stories? Really?.


    Shrugging, Arlon sat down and opened the book. As he read, the story unfolded about a wolf who wanted to eat sheep but couldn''t because of a shepherd who kept protecting them.


    [¡ª"The wolf then disguised himself as a sheep, sneaked into the flock, and ate as many as he could until he became so fat and bloated that the shepherd mistook him for a sheep and cooked him for dinner."]


    Arlon closed the book and sighed. Well, that ended exactly how I thought it would. No surprises there. He chuckled to himself. The wolf thought he was clever, but in the end, he got himself roasted. Kind of feels like me right now, pretending to be Arlon Throndsen . Only, I hope I don''t end up cooked by the nobles.


    He glanced around the room, still waiting for Dimitri to return. The study was quiet, peaceful even, but Arlon couldn''t shake the growing feeling that the more he faked being Arlon, the more tangled he was going to get in this web.


    "Note to self," he muttered under his breath. "Don''t end up like that wolf."


    He leaned back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling, the weight of Arlon''s world pressing down on him. Sword training was hard enough, but now he had to survive a study session¡ªand whatever else this insane schedule threw at him.


    Please let it be something easy, like napping.

 Chapter 3: Experimentation

    Night had draped the villa in a heavy cloak of stillness, the only light spilling from the study''s grand chandelier. Outside, shadows stretched across the estate, wrapping the world in deep indigo as a crisp chill crept through the air.


    Arlon sat upright in a high-backed chair, posture regal and composed¡ªeverything a noble heir should be. Yet beneath the calm mask, Arlon was fighting a losing battle against the tide of boredom crashing over him.


    Across the room, Dimitri, ever the loyal butler, stood by a towering bookshelf, gesturing to an ancient scroll detailing the genealogy of noble families tied to the Throndsen line.


    "The House of Valenmore has long served as our most steadfast ally," Dimitri explained, his tone sharp with precision. "Their contributions to the estate''s military expansion have been invaluable, particularly during¡ª"


    Original Arlon might''ve soaked in every word. Arlon, however, was suffocating.


    ''Oh great. More noble names and alliances. Just what I need to make my night thrilling.''


    He nodded in all the right places, the perfect picture of attentiveness, but his thoughts drifted far from Dimitri''s meticulous lecture. A flicker of movement in the corner of his eye brought his attention back to the golden screen floating just above Dimitri''s head.


    ["Dimitri explains the long-standing alliances between the Throndsen family and the House of Valenmore. Arlon listens intently, his expression unreadable."]


    Arlon bit back a groan. ''Unreadable? Try dead inside.''


    Dimitri, perhaps sensing the need for a break, turned to a silver tea set on the table. With the same precision he brought to every task, he poured a steaming cup of tea and placed it before Arlon.


    The aroma hit first¡ªearthy, bitter, and faintly floral. Arlon eyed the cup with suspicion.


    "I''ve prepared a blend of Eldeflower and Ceylroot, my lord," Dimitri said with a subtle bow. "Its properties are known to invigorate the mind and body, particularly during late-night studies."


    Arlon barely held back a grimace. ''Invigorate the mind? This smells like a garden died in the pot.''


    The golden screen flickered again:


    ["Arlon calmly sips the tea, savoring the unique flavor."]


    ''Oh no. Savor? I know what that means, and I already don''t trust this.''


    He lifted the cup, forcing himself to channel the elegance of a noble. The liquid touched his tongue, and it took everything he had not to choke. It was like drinking liquefied bark with a sprinkle of regret.


    His face remained composed¡ªa picture of noble serenity¡ªbut inwardly, Arlon was screaming.


    ''What the hell is this?! Who willingly drinks this? Did the original Arlon like tasting dirt?''


    Clutching the cup like it was a weapon, Arlon endured. Sip by agonizing sip, he drained the cup, resisting the urge to hurl it across the room.


    "Thank you, Dimitri," he said smoothly, his voice betraying nothing.


    ''Thank you for the torture, you cruel, tea-loving sadist.''


    Dimitri nodded, clearly pleased. "Shall we continue?"


    Arlon bit back a sigh. ''Sure, why not? Let''s add "more boredom" to the list of tonight''s tortures.''


    He was doing everything he could to look the part of an attentive noble, but internally, he was plotting ways to never drink that tea again.


    Arlon shot a quick glance at the golden screen, which had now gone suspiciously quiet. Of course. It only jumps in when it thinks I need direction. You, if you''re going to do something, at least be helpful.


    Sigh¡ª


    Later, Dimitri led Arlon through the grand halls of the villa, introducing various maids, guards, and staff. Each name flew past him, barely registering as he nodded politely, all the while wondering how anyone could remember so many faces.


    The golden screen chimed in:


    ["Arlon acknowledges each servant with dignity, his commanding presence unshaken."]


    ''Commanding presence, my ass. I''ve already forgotten half their names.''


    ["Arlon nods respectfully to each of the villa''s staff, acknowledging their service."]


    ''Well, at least the screen isn''t judging me for forgetting their names.''


    After dinner¡ªmercifully free of any more questionable beverages¡ªArlon was treated to a luxurious bath. Arlon couldn''t help but marvel at how over-the-top everything was. From the softest towels to the shimmering water that practically sparkled in the candlelight, it was all so... decadent.


    "If I wasn''t stuck pretending to be a murderous noble, I might actually enjoy this lifestyle."


    Finally, he collapsed onto the lavish bed, the silken sheets practically hugging him in a cocoon of comfort. For a moment, Arlon let out a deep, satisfied sigh.


    "Okay, I admit, this is kind of nice. At least I get to sleep in style."


    The next morning, however, the routine started all over again. Arlon dressed, ate breakfast, and sat through more training¡ªall of which the golden screen made sure to narrate in its usual style.


    Flutter¡ª


    ["Arlon continues his daily routine, his swordsmanship precise, movements flawless."]


    Arlon almost rolled his eyes at the glowing description. Flawless? Let''s not get ahead of ourselves. I''ve barely survived this whole noble act so far.


    But over time, he couldn''t deny it¡ªhe was getting better at playing the part. The way Arlon moved, spoke, even how he ate... it was all starting to feel natural. Almost like he was the noble he pretended to be. Occasionally, though, Shin''s habits would slip in.


    He would grab a snack or absentmindedly study some random object in the villa. But no one seemed to notice.Not even Dimitri, who watched Arlon like a hawk.


    "I guess he thinks I''m just getting smarter. That''s good. Maybe I can nap in peace later."


    But amid all the studying, sword training, and tea-drinking disasters, something about the golden screen caught his attention. It had changed. At first, it merely recorded everything, like some kind of all-seeing diary. But now... now it was as if the screen was reacting to his choices.


    Flutter¡ª


    The screen flickered once again.


    ["Arlon continues his studies, deep in thought."]


    Whenever he deviated from what the original Arlon might''ve done, the screen didn''t seem to mind. It simply skipped those moments, continuing on without a hitch.


    ''Wait. Could it be? Does the screen... not care?You''re not even going to acknowledge that I did something off-script?''


    The realisation struck him like lightning. Maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªthis was his chance. He didn''t have to be exactly like the original Arlon. The plot, the story¡ªit could still unfold even if he made different choices.


    ''So... does this mean I can get away with stuff? It''ll let me do what I want?''


    Arlon smirked to himself, staring at the screen like it was an opponent he''d just outsmarted. "I''ll call you ''narrator.'' You may know my fate, but you have no idea who I really am. Let''s see how this goes!"


    If the golden screen didn''t care whether or not he followed the exact steps of the original Arlon Throndsen, then Shin who was now Arlon would use that to his advantage.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ªThe author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    The villa was quiet in the early morning hours, save for the faint rustling of trees swaying in the wind outside Arlon''s grand bedroom. The first light of dawn pierced through the heavy velvet curtains, casting a pale golden glow across the room. Lying in bed, Arlon Throndsen¡ªor rather, Shin, now inhabiting Arlon''s body¡ªblinked himself awake with a sigh.


    With a groggy sigh, he rubbed his eyes, muttering, "Right, another day of pretending to be Mr. Perfect Nobleman."


    The narrator screen shimmered into existence before him, its soft glow flickering at the edge of his vision. A faint hum echoed as it displayed a small text box, tracking his actions.


    ["Arlon Throndsen rises early, just as his routine demands."]


    The soft silk sheets slid off as he rose, stretching his borrowed limbs. This guy''s body really has no chill, Shin thought as he felt the natural tension in his muscles. "How does someone this young have a strict daily routine like these?!"


    The adjoining bath chamber was already prepared, steam curling lazily from the large, gilded tub. Arlon sank into the water, the warmth relaxing his muscles.Bathing was a ritual he hadn''t paid much attention to back in his old world, but now it was a necessity. As he eased into the tub, the warm water soothed his muscles, and his mind began to churn.


    "Sword training right after breakfast. Gotta be sharp today; that sparring match with the knights yesterday nearly exposed me." He frowned. "I still don''t fully know this body''s limits, but at least muscle memory does half the work."


    Once bathed and dressed in the dark training attire embroidered with the Throndsen crest, Arlon made his way to the dining hall. Breakfast was a feast: fresh bread, cured meats, sweet jams, and a fragrant herbal tea. As he ate, the staff moved silently around him, their footsteps barely audible.


    The nervous glances from the maids didn''t escape his notice. He tried offering a smile to one of them, but she quickly bowed her head and scurried away.


    "Do I really look that intimidating? Or was the original Arlon just that terrifying?" he wondered.


    He finished his meal quickly and stood, addressing the head maid as she approached to clear his plate.


    "Thank the chef for me," he said.


    The maid froze for a moment, then stammered, "O-of course, my lord."


    As she hurried off, Arlon sighed. "I need to work on my people skills."


    After a quick breakfast, Arlon strode out to the villa''s training grounds. The crisp morning air carried the faint scent of dew-soaked grass, and a line of guards was already stationed for morning drills.


    One of them, an older man with graying hair, saluted. "Good morning, my Lord. Shall I prepare the training dummies?"


    "Yes, but don''t hold back today," Arlon replied in the measured tone he''d perfected over the last few days.


    Arlon''s internal voice, however, snarked: "Don''t hold back, huh? Who talks like that? Oh, right¡ªArlon does. What a diva."


    As Arlon moved through his drills, his borrowed body began to flow naturally. Each swing of the sword, each pivot and strike, felt like a dance choreographed long ago. Yet there was still a disconnect.


    The narrator screen flickered again, tracking his movements as he assumed a fighting stance.


    ["Sword practice. Arlon''s technique is flawless, honed over years of battle and repetition. Yet today, the weight of his future hangs on each swing."]


    He paused mid-swing. "Again," he muttered, resetting his stance. The guards exchanged confused glances.


    Arlon grumbled internally, "If I''m going to survive what''s coming, I need to master all of this muscle memory. It''s like downloading a game but having to learn the controls manually."


    He practiced until the sun was high, sweat dripping down his face as he sharpened his movements. He could see Dimitri watching from a distance, as always, his eyes unreadable, but the faintest glimmer of approval in his gaze.


    Flutter¡ª


    ["Dimitri watches from the shadows. A silent observer, always present, ensuring Arlon''s training is never left to chance."]


    After the session, Arlon retreated to the study, a quiet sanctuary filled with shelves of leather-bound tomes and the faint scent of aged parchment. Scanning the rows, his gaze fell on a title: The Fundamentals of Mana and Its Applications.


    Flipping through its pages, he paused at an intricate diagram of a glowing crystal. "Mana stones," he murmured, tracing the image with his finger. "Powerful... and dangerous. If I can figure out how to use them, it might give me an edge."


    The thought lingered as curiosity stirred within him. Closing the book, he set out to explore the villa, searching for anything that could deepen his understanding of the mysterious stones.


    He wandered through the grand halls of the villa again, his footsteps echoing softly against the polished floors. The air was heavy with the faint scent of aged wood and fresh polish, a constant reminder of the estate''s meticulous upkeep.


    As he turned a corner, he spotted Dimitri, ever composed, standing near a row of gilded sconces, inspecting a faint scuff on the wall. The butler''s sharp lime-green eyes flicked up immediately, locking onto Arlon with his usual unreadable intensity.


    "My lord," Dimitri greeted, straightening as he offered a precise bow. His movements were fluid, almost mechanical, a testament to years of rigid discipline.


    Arlon hesitated for the briefest moment before speaking. "Dimitri," he said, keeping his tone casual yet measured. "I was just taking a walk and thought I''d check in. Everything running smoothly?"


    Dimitri''s gaze lingered on him, just a second too long. "As always, my lord. Is there something specific you wish to discuss?"


    Arlon forced a small, practiced smile. "No, nothing urgent. I just like to keep an eye on things personally. You know how it is."


    ''Nice save. Don''t overdo it. Just smile, nod, and walk away.''


    Dimitri tilted his head ever so slightly, the faintest crease forming between his brows. "Of course, my lord. Though I must say, it''s rare for you to patrol the villa unannounced. Your attention to detail is... refreshing."


    There it was¡ªsubtle, but sharp. A polite observation that was also a quiet test. Arlon could feel the weight of Dimitri''s scrutiny pressing against him, as though the butler were dissecting every word, every nuance of his behavior.


    Arlon let out a soft chuckle, stepping closer to inspect the scuff on the wall as though it had been his original intention. "Well, I figured it couldn''t hurt to be more hands-on. A leader should understand his surroundings, don''t you think?"


    Dimitri''s lips quirked ever so slightly, not quite a smile but not a frown either. "Indeed, my lord. A commendable philosophy."


    For a moment, the two stood in silence. Dimitri''s sharp gaze tracked Arlon''s every movement like a predator circling its prey. The golden screen flickered faintly in the corner of Arlon''s vision, but for once, it offered no guidance.


    ''Oh, great. Thanks for the help, narrator. Real useful.''


    With a practiced air of nonchalance, Arlon straightened and clasped his hands behind his back. "Good work, as always, Dimitri. I''ll leave you to it."


    Dimitri inclined his head again, though his eyes followed Arlon as he walked away. "As you wish, my lord."


    The moment Arlon turned the corner, out of Dimitri''s sight, he exhaled slowly, tension flooding out of his shoulders.


    ''That guy''s way too sharp. One slip-up, and he''ll see right through me.''


    He glanced briefly at the golden screen, still silent. "Yeah, thanks for nothing," he muttered under his breath before quickening his pace down the hallway.


    The next day, Arlon''s attention was drawn to a locked door he had overlooked in the study room. Its heavy wood was worn, its iron handle scratched from years of use.


    His curiosity flared, adrenaline sparking. "A locked door? This feels like a secret side quest. What are you hiding, Arlon?"


    He fished out the ornate key he had stumbled upon earlier and slid it into the lock. With a soft click, the door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit room cloaked in shadows.


    Stepping inside, Arlon froze, his breath catching in his throat. Shelves lined the walls, crammed with glimmering mana stones, stacks of gold coins, and artifacts that seemed to hum faintly with energy.


    "This is... incredible," he whispered, his eyes wide. He reached for a mana stone, its surface smooth and warm in his palm. A faint, rhythmic pulse coursed through it, like a heartbeat.


    Flutter¡ª


    The golden screen shimmered faintly at the edge of his vision:


    ["Arlon uncovers a hidden trove of power and wealth, remnants of his secret plans."]


    "So this is where you kept your secrets, huh?" Shin murmured, turning the stone over in his hand. "No wonder the original Arlon was so overpowered in the novel."


    But as he inspected the treasures, something stirred within him. Faint, fragmented memories¡ªnot his own¡ªbegan to surface. Images of Arlon hoarding these stones flashed through his mind, coupled with an ominous sense of purpose.


    "What were you planning?" Shin wondered, his heart pounding. "And why does it feel like I''ve just stumbled into something way bigger than I''m ready for?"


    The artifacts and coins faded into the background as his focus returned to the mana stones. Closing the door behind him, he set one on the desk, its faint glow illuminating the pages of an open tome.


    "Mana stones are nature''s lifeforce, capable of enhancing strength, agility, and perception. But improper use can result in volatile reactions..."


    The words rang in his mind as he stared at the glowing crystal. For a moment, he hesitated. The book had warned against misuse. One wrong move, and the energy within could backfire.


    "Dangerous... but worth it," he muttered.


    Placing the stone in his palm, Arlon took a deep breath and focused, recalling the book''s instructions. "Picture the result you want. Clarity is the key."


    He closed his eyes. "Just a spark," he whispered.


    At first, nothing happened. The stone remained cool and inert, its faint glow unchanged. Frustration bubbled up.


    "Focus," he muttered, sharper this time. "Come on."


    Flare¡ª


    Then it happened. The stone warmed in his hand, its glow intensifying. A flicker of light shot out, swirling like a tiny flame before vanishing into the air.


    Arlon''s eyes flew open, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. "I did it."


    Encouraged, he practiced in secret whenever Dimitri wasn''t nearby. Some attempts resulted in flickers of light; others flared wildly, forcing him to duck as sparks ricocheted across the room.


    One night, he decided to push further. Holding the stone tightly, he closed his eyes and imagined water¡ªa rushing torrent.


    "Flow," he murmured.


    Swish¡ª


    A moment later, a stream of water burst forth, splashing onto the floor. Arlon laughed, exhilarated. "I''m getting the hang of this."


    But keeping his experiments hidden wasn''t easy. Dimitri, with his hawk-like gaze, had an uncanny ability to appear at the worst possible moments.


    One afternoon, as Arlon carefully channeled energy into a stone, he heard Dimitri''s voice echo from the corridor.


    "My lord?"


    His heart jumped. The mana stone nearly slipped from his grasp as the butler''s footsteps drew closer. He shoved it into his pocket just as Dimitri entered, his green eyes narrowing in suspicion.


    "What are you doing?" Dimitri asked, his tone polite but laced with curiosity.


    "Research," Arlon replied smoothly, gesturing to the books scattered across the desk. He forced himself to meet Dimitri''s gaze, keeping his expression calm.


    The butler lingered, his sharp eyes scanning the room before nodding slowly. "Very well. Dinner will be served shortly."


    Arlon waited until the door clicked shut before releasing a shaky breath. Pulling the mana stone from his pocket, he stared at it, his thoughts racing.


    "That was way too close. I need to be more careful."


    But even as his pulse steadied, something tugged at the edge of his consciousness. A strange unease crept over him, the memory fragments resurfacing. He glanced back at the hoard of mana stones, a sense of foreboding settling in his chest.


    Then the golden screen flickered violently. New words appeared, jagged and fragmented:


    ["Beware. The chain tightens."]


    Arlon froze, his breath hitching.


    "What does that mean?" he muttered, but the screen remained silent, its faint glow fading once more.


    For the first time, a knot of fear twisted in his gut. Whatever Arlon''s original plan had been, it was far from simple¡ªand far more dangerous than Shin had realized.

 Chapter 4: Beneath the Hood

    A week passed, and Arlon''s mastery of mana stones grew. He could now summon bursts of light, streams of water, and even enhance his strength for short periods.


    Yet, every time he activated a stone, he felt the same thrill¡ªa rush of power and possibility. This wasn''t something the original Arlon Throndsen had ever delved into, and that gave him an edge.


    One day, he sat back in his chair, watching the stone''s glow fade after another successful test.


    "Not bad for a beginner," he said aloud, a smile tugging at his lips. "Who knows? Maybe I''ll be a pro at this before long."


    Another day arrive again, The vast oak desk was cluttered with open books, scattered parchment, and an array of quills and inkpots. Arlon leaned forward, his brow furrowed in concentration. Before him lay a large blank sheet of paper, the beginnings of a project that would consume his focus for days: study the world map.


    He flipped through another old tome, its yellowed pages filled with fragmented maps and disjointed sketches. Each page offered only a small piece of the world, a tantalizing glimpse of the grander picture that eluded him.


    The faint scent of aged parchment lingered in the air as he flipped through the pages of an old atlas. The frustration was beginning to mount.


    "Seriously?" he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. "Not a single book in this library has a full map?" Arlon thought as he scanned another page. "It''s like they want me to suffer."


    What he found instead were fragmented maps, each depicting portions of the world. Some showed mountain ranges, others highlighted key trade routes or isolated kingdoms, but none gave him the whole picture.


    "Alright, if they won''t give me a map, I''ll make one myself," he declared to the empty room. Determination burned in his purple eyes as he grabbed a large sheet of parchment, unrolled it across the desk, and anchored it down with paperweights.


    Carefully, he began copying each fragment from the book onto his blank canvas. It was slow, painstaking work. His hand cramped after hours of tracing rivers, mountains, and borders, but he didn''t stop. Each completed section brought the larger picture into focus.As Arlon carefully sketched out the pieces.


    By the end of the day, he had pieced together a crude but functional map of the known world. He sat back, rubbing his stiff neck as he surveyed his work.


    "There," he said, a sense of pride swelling in his chest. "Not bad for someone working with scraps."


    The map depicted the three great kingdoms of the world, along with their neighboring territories and uncharted lands. He reached for a red quill and began marking locations he recognized from the original novel.


    He paused over one particular region, his brow furrowing.


    "The Silver Woods¡­" he muttered. "Mentioned as a key battleground, but no one in the book ever explored it." He circled the area in red.


    One by one, he marked other significant locations¡ªthe Forest Cave, the Sunken Isles, and the Forgotten Spire.


    "Since the original Arlon Throndsen hasn''t traveled much, it''s better to be prepared for anything. Advanced knowledge is power," he thought, a determined gleam in his eyes.


    Arlon shifted his attention to a different pile of books, each one detailing the unique cultures of the kingdoms in this world. His goal this time was not geography but language. According to the novels and tomes he had studied, each kingdom had its own tongue, and mastering them could make the difference between survival and failure.


    The original Arlon Throndsen had no use for such knowledge, relying instead on his status and influence. But Shin¡ªnow inhabiting Arlon''s body¡ªknew better. Communication was a weapon, one he intended to wield.


    He discovered that the three dominant languages of this world were as follows


    Velican: The dominant language of the Sun Empire, known for its flowing script and poetic cadence. It was the language of nobility, diplomacy, and formal documentation.It was the most widely used and the one Arlon already knew.


    Kyrian: blends the lyrical flow of ancient eastern dialects with a dignified elegance.


    Its tone is melodic yet assertive, reflecting the harmony of its diverse heritage. It''s often associated with artistry, diplomacy, and the resilience of an island people who value tradition and innovation equally


    Mythralis: A rare, ancient language spoken in the secluded kingdom of Mythralis. It was the language of scholars, mages, and those who dealt with the arcane. Its complexity was unmatched, with intricate symbols that could double as spells.


    Arlon leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples as he studied the dense grammar charts and pronunciation guides.


    "Alright," he muttered. "Velican I already know,But Kyrian¡­ that''s going to take some practice."


    As for Mythralis, he felt a strange connection to its symbols. The way the lines flowed into each other reminded him of mana circuits, almost as if the language itself was alive.


    He flipped to a page that showed common Kyrian phrases. The script looked like angular and symbolic etched onto the paper, each symbol holding multiple layers of meaning depending on context and tone. He sounded out the words slowly, his voice rough and hesitant.


    "Tihren loush¡ª''May the winds guide you.'' He paused, furrowing his brow. "That... sounded horrible."


    Despite his frustration, he practiced the phrase again and again, his pronunciation improving with each attempt.


    Mythralis proved even more challenging. He struggled to maintain the rhythm of the sentences, often tripping over the complex rules.


    "Lethrei vara shuun¡ª''The waves carry us forward.''" His tone wavered awkwardly, prompting him to sigh.


    Hours passed as he jotted down notes, creating flashcards for key phrases and conjugation rules. He practiced aloud, sometimes laughing at his mistakes but determined to push forward.


    "If I''m going to travel or even survive outside the Empire''s Capital, I''ll need to speak like a local," he thought.


    His efforts paid off, little by little. Soon, he could manage basic sentences in Kyrian and Mythralis, though fluency remained a distant goal.


    As Arlon closed the final book for the night, he felt a sense of satisfaction. Learning these languages was a daunting task, but it was also a vital step toward understanding the world he now inhabited.


    "Knowledge is power," he reminded himself, his resolve firm. "And in this world, I''ll need all the power I can get."


    The next day, while searching through the study, he stumbled upon an old, unused door. Without thinking, he opened it and peered inside.


    As Arlon pushed open the unlocked door, a faint creak echoed through the air. He stepped into a dimly lit room, much smaller than he expected, with only a table and chair in the center.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    The light filtering through the half-closed window barely illuminated the sparse space. Old, tattered curtains swayed gently with the breeze, and the entire room had an air of neglect, but also... something else. A mystery hung thickly in the air.


    The room was devoid of bookshelves, paintings, or any d¨¦cor that a study might usually have. Arlon felt an odd sense of d¨¦j¨¤ vu, as if he had stepped into a familiar place¡ªsomething eerily similar to his small work area in his old apartment from his original world. For a brief second, it felt like he had returned home.


    He moved closer to the solitary table, spotting an old, worn-out book resting on it. The book''s cover was cracked with age, its pages yellowed, adding to the room''s ancient and forgotten atmosphere. As Arlon reached for the book, the golden screen¡ªno, the narrator¡ªflashed into view with sudden urgency.


    Flutter¡ª


    [Arlon left the room¡ª] Arlon ] left the room¡ª] Arlon left ] the room¡ª]


    The words blinked repeatedly on the screen, filling it with commanding phrases over and over again like a broken record.


    "Whoa!" Arlon exclaimed, stumbling back as the text multiplied before his eyes. His heart skipped a beat, and the book slipped from his hands, hitting the floor with a dull thud.


    ''What the heck?! Are you serious right now?! Arlon thought, staring wide-eyed at the screen. The narrator was glitching out, trying to force him to leave the room as if it couldn''t handle the situation.


    Just as he bent down to pick up the book again, the screen froze, glitching once more before going completely still. Arlon''s breath steadied as he noticed the sudden change. It felt like the narrator was trying to push him away from something... but what?


    He dusted off the cover of the book, curiosity outweighing his wariness. Opening the pages, his eyes skimmed through strange, forgotten titles:


    "The Ruin Mansion," "Ancient Dragons," "Magic Scrolls," "Record of the Sky," and "Maps of Cursed Treasures."


    Each title sparked a flicker of memory in his mind. ''Wait... I''ve read about these in the novel, but the story never went into detail... The excitement of discovery flooded him. This book was a trove of hidden information, things that should have existed in the plot but were either left unexplained or purposefully omitted.


    Flip¡ªFlip


    Arlon flipped through the pages with growing intensity, a fire of curiosity burning inside him. Why were these details left out? And more importantly, why are they here? He was about to delve deeper when¡ª


    "My Lord," Dimitri''s voice cut through the silence, making Arlon jump. Crap!


    Arlon hastily closed the book and returned it to its place on the table, his fingers brushing against its worn cover one last time. He turned on his heel and left the room without a backward glance, his mind already racing with plans.


    The moment he stepped out, the golden screen flickered faintly, as if acknowledging his departure, before resuming its usual rhythm.


    [Arlon left the room casually, answering his butler with calm authority.]


    "Yes?" Arlon answered, carefully masking any sign of panic in his voice.


    Dimitri stood at the entrance of the hallway, his expression as composed as ever. But there was something about him¡ªsomething subtle, yet distinct, that Arlon hadn''t noticed before. The narrator screen flashed with the text:


    [Dimitri is nervous¡ª.]


    Arlon narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the butler''s calm fa?ade. "What is it?"


    Dimitri hesitated for a split second before replying, "There is a visitor, my lord. A passing traveler, of sorts."


    Shin¡ªno, Arlon¡ªfelt a shift in the atmosphere. His instincts told him that this wasn''t just any visitor¡ª The first major event was about to unfold ¡ªit was someone important. Someone tied to the plot.


    It was time to meet the members of Pry, the mysterious group that would shape the path ahead.The tension in his chest tightened, but he smiled and nodded.


    "Well then, Dimitri," Arlon said, keeping his voice calm and in control, "let''s go meet our guest."


    He smirked inwardly. So, it''s finally time to play my part in the first arc.


    The game begins now¡­


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª


    As Arlon and Dimitri walked through the dimly lit corridors of the mansion, their footsteps echoed softly against the stone floors. The air felt heavy, thick with unspoken tension. Dimitri followed closely behind, his expression as unreadable as ever, though Arlon couldn''t help but notice the faint furrow in his brow.


    ''Why is Dimitri acting so oddly?'' Arlon wondered, stealing a glance at the man out of the corner of his eye. ''Does he know something about the Pry? Or the Celestia Clan? Does he know more than the original Arlon ever did?''


    They approached the mansion''s grand lobby, where a row of guards and maids stood at attention, their uniforms immaculate. Arlon descended the staircase with calm confidence, his gaze fixed on the figures waiting just beyond the line of servants.


    The Pry had finally made their move.


    The visitors were draped in long, dark robes that obscured their features, the deep hoods casting shadows over their faces. Only one stood apart, his hood pulled back to reveal a sharp, angular face marked by piercing red eyes and dark gray hair that fell in loose strands around his temples.


    The man stepped forward, his voice smooth and polished. "Greetings, my Lord. I apologize for disturbing your afternoon." He gestured vaguely toward the doors behind him. "We were passing through when one of our carriage wheels broke¡ªan unfortunate delay on our journey."


    Arlon''s lips twitched at the corners, suppressing a smirk. A "broken carriage"? How convenient.


    ''So, this is their excuse to get close to me,'' he thought, his mind already dissecting the man''s story. ''The Pry have finally decided to show their hand.''


    He glanced at Dimitri, catching the faintest twitch of the butler''s eyebrow. Dimitri''s composure was otherwise flawless, but Arlon could sense the undercurrent of tension in his silence. ''He''s angry. Or maybe suspicious. Either way, he knows something.''


    ["A faint trace of anger simmered beneath Dimitri''s composed exterior."]


    The golden screen''s quiet observation only confirmed Arlon''s suspicions.


    "Of course, you''re welcome to stay for a while," Arlon said, his tone smooth and noble, masking the amusement bubbling under the surface. "Perhaps a meal while your carriage is repaired?" He turned to Dimitri, adding, "Do help our guests with their¡­ predicament."


    For a fleeting moment, Dimitri''s emerald eyes betrayed a flicker of panic. "Of course, my Lord," he said, his voice tight with barely concealed urgency.


    Arlon bit back a laugh. ''Is he¡­ trusting me? Or just resigned to whatever madness I''m about to stir up?''


    The Dining Room


    The Pry members were seated at one end of the long, ornately decorated dining table, with Arlon at the other. The room was bathed in the warm glow of candlelight, the flicker of flames reflected in the polished silver platters piled high with glazed meats, delicate pastries, and fresh fruits.


    For a while, the only sounds were the soft clinking of silverware and murmured thanks as the Pry members dined. Arlon maintained his calm exterior, his gaze flicking occasionally toward their leader, who seemed far too comfortable.


    Finally, the robed man set down his fork and lifted his cup of tea. His red eyes locked onto Arlon''s with a gleam of calculated gratitude. "My Lord, your hospitality is truly remarkable. It''s rare to meet someone so gracious."


    He paused, his tone shifting ever so slightly. "As a token of our appreciation, allow me to offer you something in return."


    Arlon leaned back in his chair, feigning disinterest. ''Here it comes. The Pry''s pitch about Celestia¡­''


    The man''s voice took on a reverent quality as he continued, his words measured and deliberate. "We would like to share the story of our god, Celestia, and the legacy of the Soul Guardians."


    ''Wow, they''re really laying it on thick,'' Arlon thought, suppressing a yawn. He kept his face impassive, but his mind drifted briefly to the novel''s plot. This was exactly where the original Arlon had been drawn into the Pry''s schemes¡ªhooked by their tales of ancient gods and forbidden power.


    The man gestured with his hands as he spoke, his tone growing more fervent. "These four gods¡ªSky Dragon, Fire Phoenix, Water Serpent, and Earth Lion¡ªbestowed their powers upon chosen individuals, creating the Soul Guardians. They are the protectors of balance, wielding unimaginable power to shape the fate of the world."


    ''Guardians, huh? So anyone can inherit these powers? What a convenient recruitment pitch,'' Arlon thought wryly.


    As the man spoke, Arlon''s attention drifted briefly to Dimitri, who was brewing tea at a nearby side table. Dimitri''s movements were precise, but his sharp green eyes flicked toward the Pry members now and then, his distaste barely concealed.


    Flutter¡ª


    ["Complete nonsense! My Lord isn''t foolish enough to believe this drivel."¡ªDimitri''s ready to pounce if they try anything funny.]


    Arlon gave Dimitri a slight nod, silently signaling him to stay calm.


    The robed man pressed on, his voice taking on an almost theatrical cadence. "Celestia, one of these great gods, sacrificed herself to protect humanity from an ancient evil. Her powers were passed down through a sacred bloodline, ensuring that her descendants could continue her work."


    Dimitri''s jaw clenched as he poured tea for the guests, though his face remained impassive. Arlon caught the briefest flash of frustration in his eyes and almost laughed. ''Oh, I know that look. He''s seconds away from declaring this all a sham.''


    The man leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a great secret. "Your noble lineage, my Lord, is entwined with this legacy."


    Arlon arched an eyebrow, intrigued but skeptical. "Oh? And what does that mean exactly?"


    The man''s face lit up, his passion renewed. "With your lineage and the Pry''s guidance, you could become a guardian of unparalleled strength¡ªone who could rise above the nobles who seek to control you!"


    Before Arlon could respond, Dimitri interjected, his voice sharp. "I beg your pardon¡ª"


    Arlon raised a hand, cutting him off with a calm but icy look. "Dimitri. Let them finish."


    The robed man pressed on, undeterred. "With your power, my Lord, you could surpass even Grand Duke Ciel. You could become one with the Soul Sky Guardian and reshape this world."


    Arlon''s mind raced, recalling how the original Arlon had been swayed by this very speech. It felt so scripted, so predictable¡ªlike a poorly written plotline he already knew by heart.


    He leaned forward slightly, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Your proposal¡­" His tone dripped with sarcasm. "¡­is absolute bullst**"

 Chapter 5: Crossing Paths

    The room fell silent, every eye fixated on him, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief.


    The room froze, every eye on him as his words echoed through the chamber. The robed figures shifted uncomfortably, shock written on their faces. Dimitri''s gaze was hidden behind his lowered head, but Arlon could feel his approval radiating through the silence.


    "Wait, what?" the robed man stammered, clearly taken aback.


    The robed men stared at Arlon, their surprise palpable. The atmosphere in the dining room shifted, tension hanging in the air like an impending storm. Yet, instead of answering their question, Arlon merely remarked, "The weather has changed; it seems it''s going to rain¡­ very hard." His tone was casual, but a deeper meaning lay beneath his words, one that hinted at the brewing chaos he sensed.


    Before the guests could respond, a servant slipped into the room, whispering something to Dimitri before departing. Dimitri''s expression shifted slightly, a subtle sign of relief crossing his face.


    "The guests'' broken carriage has been fixed," he announced, his voice steady and formal. Both Arlon and Dimitri sighed in unison, the weight of the situation momentarily lifting.


    Arlon rose from his chair, his gaze cold and unyielding. "This conversation is over. Dimitri, see to it that our ''guests'' are escorted out once their carriage is repaired."


    The Pry leader didn''t falter. Instead, he rose as well, a faint, knowing smile tugging at his lips. "As you wish, my Lord. But remember this: even gods can only wait so long."


    The words lingered in the air, thick with hidden meaning. Arlon held his ground, his expression unreadable, though a flicker of unease stirred in his chest.


    As the Pry members left the dining hall, Dimitri stepped closer, his voice low. "My Lord, are you certain it was wise to let them leave so easily?"


    Arlon didn''t reply immediately. His eyes drifted to the golden screen, which had begun to flicker erratically in the corner of his vision. Words appeared, jagged and fractured:


    [¡ª"The chain tightens. The path splinters."]


    A chill ran down his spine. The game was changing, and he was no longer certain he understood the rules.


    "Don''t worry, Dimitri," he said at last, his voice steady. "I''ll deal with them when the time comes."


    But as he spoke, Arlon couldn''t shake the feeling that the Pry''s visit was only the beginning¡ªand that the first true test of his new life was already upon him.


    Arlon watch them leave the villa through the window, ''It''s time to get ready''.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª


    The night came, and Arlon was ready to sleep when Dimitri entered his room, holding another cup of black tea. Arlon blinked in surprise, wondering how he had managed to endure the bitter concoction for an entire day¡ªthis must be a new record.


    Before Arlon could voice his confusion, Dimitri set the cup down on the table with his usual calm demeanor. "I thought you might like some more, my lord," he said, his voice steady but laced with concern.


    Arlon opened his mouth to question him about it but paused when he noticed the serious look on Dimitri''s face.


    Arlon opened his mouth to question him about it but paused when he noticed the serious look on Dimitri''s face.


    "Are you going to accept the ''guest''s'' offer in the future?" Dimitri asked, clearly still wary of Arlon''s judgment.


    Flop¡ª


    Arlon chuckled lightly, shaking his head.


    "No, I''m not interested in joining a cult; that''s just not my style." His tone was a mix of seriousness and playfulness, which he emphasized by leaning back slightly in his chair.


    "I''m not going to rely on someone to gain what I want. It''s best to act on your own at times." He took a sip of his tea, trying to maintain an air of elegance despite the grimace threatening to break through.


    Dimitri raised an eyebrow, surprised by his young lord''s decisive response. He bowed his head respectfully, though a flicker of relief crossed his expression. "I see. Then have a good rest, young lord," he replied, his voice steady and formal.


    Before he left the room, Dimitri set the teacup down on the table with care, the steam curling up like a whisper of warning. He paused for a moment, as if contemplating whether to say more, but ultimately chose silence and stepped out, closing the door behind him.


    Once Dimitri was gone, Arlon couldn''t help but spill some of the tea on the table as he took another sip. The taste had changed even more strongly, like a bitter storm brewing inside the cup. He grimaced, shaking his head in disbelief.


    "What kind of sorcery is this?" he muttered, setting the cup down with a thud. "Does it get worse every time?"


    With a resigned huff, Arlon stood and swiftly changed out of his formal attire, slipping into a simple black long-sleeve shirt and fitted pants that allowed for easier movement. He pulled on a robe that draped around him comfortably, its fabric a dark shadow against the dim light of the room.


    "That''s right, Dimitri. Be more suspicious of me," he muttered to himself, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.


    "I''m not the type of person to sit around and do nothing." Arlon understood that Dimitri was still wary, unable to fully open up to him after everything that had happened, but he also recognized that his loyal servant would never betray or disobey him.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    He turned off the lights, casting the room into a soft twilight, then approached the balcony window. With a steadying breath, he opened it, the hinges creaking softly in the silence. He adjusted the robe to cover his head, creating a shadowy veil around his face as he stepped out onto the balcony.


    Step¡ªStep


    The villa''s silence was broken only by the faint rustle of Arlon''s robes as he slipped into the night. He moved with purpose, each step carrying him closer to his goal: Lawrence''s hometown. If the Pry were after the Soul Sky Guardian, he needed to act before it was too late.


    "Time to make my move," he thought, a surge of adrenaline coursing through him.


    Arlon stepped quietly into the cool night air, his heart racing with a mix of exhilaration and apprehension. The villa loomed behind him, its stone walls casting long shadows under the pale moonlight. Just like a scene from a story, right? he thought, a wry smile creeping across his face.


    Step¡ª Step


    With each careful step, he slipped from the confines of his home like a shadow, fully aware of the landscape around him. He recalled every inch of the villa and the meticulously arranged schedules of the guards patrolling the grounds.


    Woooosh¡ª


    The air was thick with anticipation as he navigated through the maze of shadows. It was a risky venture, but one he felt compelled to take. What would the real Arlon think of me right now?.


    Once clear of the villa, he broke into a swift, practiced run, dashing toward the thick line of trees bordering the property. The night air was cool against his skin as he entered the dense forest, his senses heightened. Branches snapped beneath his feet as he sprinted through the undergrowth, aiming for the river that he knew lay up ahead.


    The river was low at this hour, almost a mere trickle over its rocky bed. While the Pry members usually took the long way around, Arlon had another plan. He retrieved a small mana stone from his pocket¡ªa sharp, glimmering fragment infused with nature''s power.


    This particular stone had a speed enhancement, allowing him to cross swiftly over the shallow riverbed. With a faint glow, the mana stone thrummed to life in his hand, sending an exhilarating surge through his muscles. Arlon crossed in a blur, quick and silent, like a shadow flickering over water.


    Fwoosh¡ª


    He activated the stone, feeling a surge of energy course through him. In an instant, he was propelled forward, his movements becoming a blur as he dashed across the low tide river. The cool water splashed against his legs, but he felt no chill; the mana stone enveloped him in warmth, fueling his drive. ''This isn''t so bad! I could get used to this.


    Rush¡ªSplash¡ª


    As he closed in on his destination, an unsettling scent crept into his awareness. At first, it was subtle¡ªa wisp of smoke threading through the damp forest air.


    The forest burned in the distance, its eerie glow casting flickering shadows through the trees. Arlon froze, the metallic tang of blood sharp in his nostrils. His eyes locked onto the figure in the clearing¡ªa lone warrior cutting through Pry soldiers with relentless, brutal efficiency.


    "It''s him," Arlon murmured. "Lawrence Hill¡­"


    The protagonist of The Seventh War. Every swing of his sword was calculated yet ferocious, his opponents scattering like leaves before a storm. Lawrence''s broad shoulders heaved as he caught his breath, the fiery glow reflecting in his fierce, determined gaze.


    Arlon couldn''t look away. This was the man destined to become a legend.


    So transfixed was he that he didn''t notice the root beneath his foot until it was too late.


    Thud¡ª


    The sound wasn''t loud, but in the eerie stillness that followed the battle, it might as well have been a cannon blast. Arlon cursed under his breath as Lawrence''s head snapped toward him.


    ''Great. Just great.''


    Moments later, Lawrence loomed over him, sword drawn and pointed directly at his throat.


    "Who are you?" Lawrence demanded, his voice as sharp as the blade itself.


    Arlon raised his hands slowly, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible. "I... I''m just passing through," he said, forcing his voice to stay calm.


    Lawrence''s piercing gaze held no trace of mercy. Of course he''s suspicious, Arlon thought, his mind racing. Lawrence wasn''t the type to let anything slide. If I don''t convince him now, this could end badly.


    "I... I''m not one of them," Arlon said quickly, keeping his voice calm even as his heart pounded. He gestured toward the fallen Pry soldiers.


    "I''ve only just awakened my power," Arlon said, steadying his voice. "I can''t control it yet¡ªthat''s why I keep it hidden."He hoped the words sounded convincing, though he could feel Lawrence''s gaze assessing every inch of him.


    Lawrence''s eyes flicked to the mask covering Arlon''s face, his grip on the sword unyielding. Arlon forced himself to stay calm. This wasn''t the ideal first meeting, but he had to convince him.


    "Why are you here?" Lawrence pressed, his voice low, demanding.


    Arlon swallowed hard, carefully crafting his next words. "I was looking for¡­ something. I heard rumors about this place and thought I''d find answers here." He kept his tone steady, though his mind raced to fill in the gaps of his half-truths.


    Lawrence tilted his head slightly, as if weighing the sincerity of Arlon''s answer. His grip on the sword loosened ever so slightly, but the tension in his stance didn''t fade.


    "Rumors?" Lawrence asked, his voice laced with suspicion. "About what?"


    Arlon hesitated for the briefest moment, knowing the wrong answer could cost him. Then, he let out a small sigh, feigning reluctance. "About¡­ cursed artifacts. I thought they might help me stabilize my power."


    It wasn''t a complete lie¡ªhe was looking for something, after all.


    Lawrence narrowed his eyes, his expression unreadable. After a long, excruciating pause, he finally lowered his sword.


    "You''re not lying," he said, though his tone suggested he wasn''t entirely convinced either.


    Arlon breathed an internal sigh of relief, his mask hiding the flicker of nerves in his expression.


    He pushed down his nerves and trailed after Lawrence, keeping a careful distance. Despite his own unease, he was determined to follow the protagonist''s lead, wherever it might take him.


    Step¡ª Step¡ª


    As the two moved cautiously toward the smoldering ruins of the village, Arlon''s senses remained on high alert. The acrid scent of smoke and blood hung heavy in the air, and the distant cries of villagers echoed faintly through the trees.


    Lawrence moved among the survivors, his hardened expression softening as he offered quiet reassurances. Arlon kept his distance, watching the man who would one day become a hero.


    ''This is the Lawrence Hill I remember,'' he thought. Lawrence''s quiet strength drew people to him like moths to a flame.


    But then Lawrence paused, his gaze sweeping the smoldering remains of the village.


    "They were looking for it," he muttered, almost to himself. "The soul¡­"


    Arlon stiffened. The soul? Could he mean the Soul Sky Guardian?


    He forced his expression to remain neutral, though his mind raced. Nowhere in the novel had it mentioned that Lawrence knew about the Soul Sky Guardian. This was a deviation¡ªa crack in the story he thought he understood.


    "The soul," Arlon echoed softly, feigning curiosity. "You mean those Pry members were searching for something?"


    Lawrence''s sharp gaze cut back to him, as if weighing whether to answer.


    "You don''t need to know," he said curtly, his tone leaving no room for argument.


    ''Stubborn as ever,'' Arlon thought, suppressing a sigh. But he couldn''t shake the feeling that this was a vital clue¡ªone he couldn''t afford to ignore.


    As the survivors huddled around the makeshift fire Lawrence had built, Arlon stepped back, his mind spinning with possibilities.


    ''Lawrence knows more than he''s letting on. But why? How does he know about the Soul Sky Guardian?''


    Before he could dwell on it further, the golden screen flickered to life in the corner of his vision. Its text was erratic, pulsing with urgency:


    Flutter¡ª


    ["The chain tightens. The path diverges¡ª."]


    A chill ran down Arlon''s spine. He clenched his fists, feeling the weight of the moment settle over him.


    ''I''ve already changed the story, haven''t I?''


    His gaze drifted back to Lawrence, who stood tall and resolute against the backdrop of flames. For better or worse, Arlon''s actions had set something in motion. And as the night stretched on, he couldn''t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.

 Chapter 6: Echoes of Thunder

    Arlon''s gaze drifted up toward a distant, The mountain loomed ahead, dark clouds swirling at its peak. Lightning flashed, illuminating the jagged slopes, and the chill in the air sent a shiver through Arlon. It felt like the mountain itself was alive, angry at being disturbed


    Arlon glanced at the stormy peak, frowning. "The weather shifted suddenly. It was calm when I got here." Lawrence, still focused on the sweet potatoes, replied evenly, "The mountain doesn''t like disturbances. Those Pry attackers probably angered it."


    He lifted the pot''s lid, checking on the sweet potatoes before handing one to each of the villagers. Then, he offered one to Arlon as well.


    "The mountain¡­ You mean the soul?" Arlon asked, accepting the food with a polite nod and taking a bite. The sweet potato''s warmth spread through him, momentarily warding off the cold.''Here we go, story time.''


    "My father once told me that the mountain has a soul that controls the sky," Lawrence explained, his eyes focused on the flickering flames of the fire. "He said it''s better to leave it undisturbed. Let it sleep, and it won''t trouble anyone." He took a slow, thoughtful bite of his own sweet potato, his gaze distant, as though remembering something from long ago.


    "..."


    The silence that followed was peaceful, the crackling fire casting a soft glow on the faces around it. But that calmness was soon broken as Arlon spoke, his voice carrying a note of resolve.


    "No," Arlon murmured, his tone low and unyielding. "That can''t be helped."


    Lawrence looked up, frowning slightly as Arlon rose and started for the cave''s entrance, his pace steady and purposeful.


    "What are you planning to do?" Lawrence asked, following after him, his curiosity piqued by the sudden shift in Arlon''s demeanor.


    Arlon didn''t slow down, his gaze fixed on the path ahead, leading toward the storm-shrouded mountain.


    "Isn''t it obvious?" he replied, his tone cool, determined. He stopped in his tracks, turning just enough to glance back at Lawrence over his shoulder. There was a glint of challenge in his eyes.


    Lawrence stopped as well, his expression wary. "Are you going there¡­ to get it?" he asked, studying Arlon''s face closely.


    Arlon''s lips curved into a faint, confident smile. "Yup," he answered, nodding toward the mountain. "Are you coming too?"


    For a moment, Lawrence seemed to hesitate, as if weighing the risks of the path Arlon was suggesting. But there was something in Arlon''s gaze¡ªan undeniable spark of determination¡ªthat stirred his own sense of adventure.


    Lawrence regarded Arlon carefully, his gaze unwavering as he stepped forward, positioning himself in front of him. After a brief pause, he said, "Alright, I''ll help you, but in return, you have to help find those people who were responsible for my family''s losses."


    Arlon understood immediately¡ªLawrence sought revenge, and he knew that Arlon could help him achieve it. Arlon nodded, a steely resolve in his voice. "Alright, it''s a deal."


    They clasped hands in agreement, sealing their alliance. Lawrence then added, "I''m Lawrence Hill," formally introducing himself.


    "Arlon Throndsen," he replied simply.


    With the brief negotiation complete, the two turned their focus toward the stormy mountain looming ahead. Dark clouds swirl above it, flashing with occasional bursts of lightning, and the distant rumble of thunder filled the air. Arlon assessed the sheer cliff face and wondered how they could possibly reach the cave entrance, which lay high up the mountainside.


    Just then, Lawrence approached him, holding a coil of sturdy rope in his hands. "I know where the safest path is," he said, "but we''ll need to tie ourselves together with this rope to climb up."


    "Oh my god¡­" Arlon muttered under his breath, feeling a mix of anxiety and disbelief. ''Am I really about to risk my life on this journey?.''


    Lawrence quickly looped the rope around Arlon''s waist, tying it securely before fastening the other end around himself. With their preparations complete, they began the steep ascent. Arlon focused on Lawrence''s every move, carefully following each of his steps to avoid slipping. One wrong move on this treacherous path could send them tumbling down the mountain.


    Swoosh¡ª


    Arlon''s heart pounded as the wind roared around him. Each step felt more treacherous than the last, the sheer drop below pulling at his every movement.


    "Hey, Lawrence," he called out, his voice barely audible over the gale. "If you fall, how am I supposed to save you?"


    Lawrence didn''t even glance back. "Then don''t let me fall."


    "..."


    As they climbed higher, the wind grew stronger, howling around them with a fierce intensity. The rope tethered between them became a lifeline, keeping Arlon anchored as they struggled against the storm.


    They finally neared the other side of the mountain, the dark mouth of a cave visible just up ahead. Lawrence glanced back at Arlon, his expression unreadable. "By the way, how did you know about this place?."


    Arlon gritted his teeth.''Can we get to the entrance first before you ask?.


    Eventually, after a hard and grueling climb, they reached a narrow, rocky platform near the cave entrance. The wind here was relentless, battering them with almost supernatural force, but thanks to the rope secured around his waist and connected to Lawrence, Arlon was able to stand his ground.


    Arlon looked up and saw the cave entrance just ahead, wide and dark, like a hungry mouth swallowing the raging wind from outside.


    "I''ll stay here to hold the rope while you go inside the cave," Lawrence said, gripping the rope firmly in his hands. "Just give me a signal if something bad happens."


    Arlon nodded in agreement, bracing himself before stepping forward. The wind caught him almost immediately, pushing him towards the cave''s entrance. He allowed himself to be carried by it, moving steadily until he was swept into the cave.


    Inside, the air was thick with a powerful, swirling current. Arlon pressed forward, leaning against the wind that seemed to grow even stronger as he moved further inside. As he looked around, his eyes caught sight of something at the center of the cavern. It was a mass of black wind, spiraling like a dark vortex around a pulsating, dark purple orb.


    The orb floated in mid-air, exuding an ominous energy that filled the cave. Its presence seemed to generate the powerful wind that whipped around him and was likely the source of the thunderstorm raging outside.


    "Could it be¡­ the Sky Soul?" Arlon wondered, his voice barely audible against the roar of the wind. He inched closer, mesmerized by the swirling darkness. The orb reminded him of a black hole, a void capable of swallowing everything in its path.


    As he took another step, his foot landed on a loose rock, which shifted under his weight. The slight movement seemed to disturb the air, and the wind suddenly intensified, reacting violently to his approach. It howled with a ferocity that nearly pushed him back, as though the orb was aware of his presence and was warning him to stay away.


    Fsssh¡ª


    The cave''s wind howled like a living beast, growing fiercer with each step Arlon took. At the cavern''s center, a dark orb floated, surrounded by swirling black wind.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    The wind pushed against him, almost as if alive, warning him to stay away. But Arlon pressed on, each step sending loose stones skittering across the floor.


    A sudden roar filled the cavern. "WHO DARES TRESPASS ON MY DOMAIN?"


    "!!?"


    The shock made Arlon lose his footing, and he slipped, tumbling off the rock.


    ''Oh crap! I''m going to get swallowed by the orb!" he thought in panic.


    He braced himself for impact but was caught midair, the black wind surrounding the orb lifting him up, suspending him in an eerie float. "Huh? What''s going on??"


    As he hung there, bewildered, the voice spoke again, even louder and angrier. "You! The one who trespassed my territory! Who are you, and how did you get here!??" The wind around him whipped more violently with each word, its intensity mirroring the voice''s fury.


    ''This must be the Soul Sky Guardian, Arlon realized. But¡­ Why is it speaking fluent English? Shouldn''t it be using a language from this world?''


    The Soul Sky Guardian''s voice rumbled on, like a storm threatening to break. "How dare you set foot here!? Just look at you¡ªone strong gust would push you off this mountain, and you''d fall to your death! How did a weakling like you manage to get up here? You''re not even a gifted awakener!"


    Woooosh¡ª


    The winds grew fiercer, howling and shifting unpredictably, sending Arlon spinning through the air and his mask fell off unnoticed. Despite the chaos, he managed to steady himself, narrowly avoiding being slammed into the rocky walls. Realizing the Guardian wasn''t about to stop its tirade, Arlon felt his frustration boiling over.


    This thing is so annoying, he thought, gritting his teeth. Then he finally snapped, shouting, "Can you stop talking and calm down!!!!"


    His voice echoed in English, cutting through the noise. A tense silence fell over the cave as the winds stilled, the Guardian seemingly stunned into quiet. Breathing heavily, Arlon dropped safely to the ground, taking a moment to calm his racing heart.


    "Haaah... haaah¡­".


    Arlon finally landed safely on the rocky ground, clutching his chest as he steadied his breath and heartbeat. The silence felt unnaturally thick, and his pulse still raced from the close encounter with the Sky Soul''s fury.


    Then, from nowhere, came a voice laced with curiosity and command.


    "Who are you? How can you understand my words? Are you... a lost soul?"


    Arlon winced, still fighting for breath. The Sky Soul Guardian''s voice, almost like a thundercloud speaking, ignored his struggles, continuing to press its questions with that curious, scrutinizing tone. Despite lacking a true form, Arlon could somehow feel the Guardian''s presence, a shadowy dragon gaze boring into him as if he could see through every layer of his soul.


    As Arlon managed to regain his composure, he noticed a faint, dark, dragon-like figure in front of him, eyes gleaming red like embers in the dim cave. His mask had slipped without him realizing. The dragon spirit glared at him, eyes narrowed and posture assessing.


    It gave him a slow, up-and-down look before speaking again.


    "You don''t look like someone who could easily learn our language."


    The dragon shadow seemed to shift forward, a wave of dark energy rippling out, and Arlon''s heartbeat quickened. He could sense that the Guardian''s gaze was probing into him, digging for answers he wasn''t yet ready to reveal.


    Arlon met the intense gaze, attempting to play it cool, but he felt a strange stirring inside his own spirit. There was something about this creature''s red stare that unnerved him. The Guardian''s eyes flashed, clearly sensing something unusual.


    "What... are you?"


    Arlon forced himself to keep a steady expression. He couldn''t afford to answer that question¡ªnot here, not now. His mind raced, settling on something he hoped would satisfy the Guardian''s curiosity.


    "Why are you here?" The Guardian''s voice was sharper this time, its words almost vibrating in the air. Arlon felt a subtle threat within that question. If he didn''t respond correctly, he could feel the weight of the creature''s intent pressing down on him, its gaze practically aimed at his heart.


    With a deep breath, Arlon answered, "I''m here to make a deal with you... and to save you, as well." He kept his voice calm, controlled. Inside, he couldn''t shake the feeling that one wrong word might bring the Guardian''s wrath crashing down.


    Meanwhile, back at the villa, Dimitri Miller moved down the quiet hallway, his mind swirling with thoughts of the Pry members and their recent meeting. There was a certain smugness to them that unsettled him, and it left a bitter taste. He muttered to himself as he passed by each room.


    "Soon enough... Young Lord must be cautious before taking further action, but I''ll not let him face these snakes alone."


    Dimitri''s train of thought shifted to Arlon''s recent dedication to his studies. It seemed that lately, Arlon had spent more time in the study, his focus unwavering, his complaints almost nonexistent.


    Even the tea had gone untouched by criticism¡ªa rare feat in itself, as Arlon usually had some complaints, especially on his difficult days. Perhaps, Dimitri thought, the black tea with its rich nutrients was finally making a difference, helping him focus and think more clearly.


    With his young lord''s health improving, Dimitri felt a newfound pride. "They underestimate him," he muttered, "but they''ll regret it..."


    Just then, Dimitri''s eyes caught something by the window. A piece of paper lay on the floor, and an inexplicable sense of dread settled in his chest. "What¡­?" He snatched it up quickly, eyes scanning the note. His expression darkened, heart racing as he realized its implications.


    Without a moment''s hesitation, he rushed toward the study room, yanking open the door. His eyes darted around the room until he noticed it¡ªthe missing book on the table. His heart sank. "The book¡­"


    A new urgency gripped him, and he sprinted to Arlon''s chambers, Dimitri strode through the quiet villa, the faint smell of black tea still lingering in the air. Something felt... off.


    Throwing the door open without knocking. But the room was silent, and the bed untouched.


    Dimitri''s stomach twisted. "He''s not here... Could it be...?"


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Back in the stormy mountain cave, the atmosphere shifted. The wind steadied, the chaotic energy dissipating. The Soul Sky Guardian, still as a shadowy figure with piercing red eyes, stared at Arlon in utter disbelief.


    "Are you joking right now?" the Guardian questioned, his tone heavy with skepticism. The idea of this frail human claiming he could "save" him seemed laughable.


    "Huh? Um... Well, how about a 2-year contract, how about that?" Arlon offered, his voice tinged with a hint of surprise, as if realizing the words as he said them.


    The dragon shifted backward, eyeing Arlon with disbelief. Anger flickered in his gaze, this weak human daring to strike a deal¡ªthis one he could squash with a single blow. But Arlon''s offer lingered, making the Guardian pause in his frustration.


    The dragon''s voice rumbled like distant thunder. "A weakling like you dares to make demands? What can you offer that I would accept?"


    Arlon swallowed hard, meeting the glowing red eyes despite the fear twisting in his gut. "Freedom," he said firmly. "A way out of this mountain¡ªon your terms."


    The Guardian''s laughter was sharp and cold, like the crack of lightning. "Freedom? From a human?"


    "Not from me. From them," Arlon said, gesturing vaguely toward the stormy skies outside. "You know what''s coming. They won''t stop until they bind you to their will."


    The Guardian fell silent, its shadowy form rippling. "And you? You would be different?"


    Arlon smirked faintly. "I just want to survive. You need someone, and so do I. A contract isn''t submission¡ªit''s an alliance."


    The Guardian seemed to sense something genuine in Arlon''s resolve, but his suspicions held strong.


    "Tell me your true intentions before I agree," the Guardian demanded, his voice deep and commanding.


    Without a hint of hesitation, Arlon replied, "If that''s what it takes to make you agree, all right. I''ll tell you." His voice carried confidence, the resolve of someone determined to find a way to survive, no matter the cost.


    He knew the stakes¡ªwithout this pact, he''d return to the villa empty-handed, risking everything for a slim chance at escaping the entangling dangers of his fate. He began to explain, laying out his reasons, his needs, and his motives.


    The Guardian listened intently, his piercing gaze unwavering. He hadn''t expected this human to truly bear his intentions so fully, but he stayed silent, absorbing every word Arlon spoke.


    The cave remained cloaked in darkness, but the first light of dawn hinted at the cave''s mouth, casting a dim glow over Arlon and the dragon spirit. The Soul Sky Guardian, now thoroughly shocked, couldn''t believe the human standing before him. This mere mortal wanted a contract¡ªnot to harness his power, but simply to be by his side, to live a peaceful life despite the risks.


    He must be insane, the dragon thought.


    "I see," the Guardian finally spoke, his voice low. "So those people you spoke of, they''re truly as vile as you say. And they''re planning to make a contract with me to fight against the Empire."


    "Not only the Empire," Arlon replied, his tone steady.


    The dragon sighed, his voice thick with disbelief. "Fine, I''ll accept your deal."


    Arlon''s eyes widened. "Do you believe me now?" he asked, still uncertain if the Soul Sky Guardian thought his words were anything more than foolishness.


    The Guardian loomed closer, its crimson eyes narrowing. "You''re bold for a mortal," it said, its voice laced with mockery. "Most would grovel for power, but you¡­ You want my freedom?"


    Arlon nodded, keeping his voice steady. "It''s a fair deal. I help you; you help me. We survive together."


    Even if you have that attitude, I can''t let you go, Arlon thought. Not when others will come for you.


    The Guardian stared at him for what felt like an eternity. Then, with a low growl, it spoke. "Very well, human. But heed this¡ªI will not suffer fools lightly. Break our agreement, and I will destroy you."


    A surge of dark energy swirled around Arlon, sealing the pact. He grinned faintly, though his heart still raced. "Deal."


    Woooosh¡ª


    Suddenly, dark smoke began to spread around the cave. Arlon felt an ominous surge of power¡ªa raw, destructive energy, like the calamity of a storm brewing in the heavens. Is he going to attack me!? Arlon thought, taking a cautious step back. The ground trembled subtly beneath his feet.


    The Guardian''s form shimmered, its crimson gaze burning brighter. "Your name, human. Speak it, so our pact can begin."


    Arlon straightened, meeting the dragon''s glare with steady resolve. "Arlon Throndsen."


    As the Guardian roared its acceptance, the storm outside seemed to calm for just a moment.


    Arlon couldn''t help but smirk. "Let''s see if this gamble pays off."


    The dragon''s voice cut through the air. "Give me a name."

 Chapter 7: Name of the Storm

    "Give me a name."


    "Huh?" Arlon blinked, murmuring, "A name..." He repeated the words softly, letting the request sink in.


    Arlon''s expression shifted as he considered. This name had to be more than a title¡ªit had to capture the essence of this powerful being. It needed to be something unforgettable, something that symbolized the dragon''s strength and uniqueness.


    After a moment of thought, he said, "Ace."


    The dragon tilted its head, red eyes narrowing as the cave grew eerily silent.


    "Ace¡­ That will do," it said finally, its tone carrying faint approval.


    Swoosh¡ª


    A sudden gust filled the cave, but the wind wasn''t violent; it swirled gently around him as if wrapping him in the dragon''s essence. In the midst of it, a small purple light appeared, illuminating the cave with a soft yet intense glow.


    Arlon''s gaze fixed on the orb floating before him, its dark purple light casting ethereal shadows. "The Sky Dragon''s soul," he whispered, mesmerized by the mystical sight.


    The dragon''s voice resounded with gravity, filling the space. "I''ll be part of your soul once you accept me."


    The orb pulsed gently, as if alive, and Ace''s voice continued. "Once you accept the Sky Dragon Soul, you''ll carry its power¡ªcalamity from the skies. It''s a force of endless destruction, untamable unless you fully embrace it." The dark purple light moved closer, floating just within reach.


    As Arlon reached out, he felt Ace''s emotions through the bond forming between them¡ªa mixture of happiness and fear, both subtle but undeniable. He must be worried about something, Arlon thought, yet he could sense a strange warmth behind the Guardian''s stoic mask.


    Whoosh¡ªswoosh!


    The moment Arlon''s fingers brushed the orb, a searing light shot straight into his chest, spiraling into his heart. All the black winds in the cave twisted together, swirling around him before getting absorbed entirely.


    thump¡ªthump¡ªThump


    "Urk!¡ª" Arlon grunted, feeling the intense pulse of his own heartbeat as it throbbed in response to the Soul orb''s power. A hot, almost burning sensation hit his chest, and he sucked in a breath, trying to calm himself. With each slow inhale, something within him began to shift, filling an emptiness he hadn''t even realized was there since awakening as Arlon Throndsen.


    The hollow feeling in his body was easing, replaced by a strange vitality. It was disorienting¡ªone part of him felt exhausted, as though he''d fought a hundred battles, but another part buzzed with fresh energy, eager to be unleashed. With his eyes closed, he let himself sink into that renewed warmth, feeling just a trace of life filling what had once been an empty vessel.


    He opened his eyes, momentarily dazed, but was quickly jolted out of his thoughts by a voice echoing in his mind.


    "Because you can understand my language, I''ll use it to talk to you," Ace''s voice resounded in his mind, laced with a hint of amusement.


    Arlon''s eyebrows twitched. So he''s already finding ways to talk directly into my head. Ignoring the dragon''s sly tone, Arlon bent down, picking up his mask and adjusting it before heading for the cave exit.


    As he walked, Ace''s voice cut through his thoughts with a mocking edge. "You''re weaker than a chicken, to be honest. I doubt you''ll even be able to control the Sky''s power."


    "Don''t worry, I''ll avoid getting myself in dang¡ª" Arlon started, only to be interrupted.


    Flutter¡ª


    Suddenly, a series of text panels appeared in front of him, glowing softly as they floated in midair. The narrator screen, its words scrolling by on a page-like surface, caught Arlon off guard, making him pause mid-stride.


    ["After making a deal with the Sky Soul Guardian named Ace, Arlon Throndsen received the Sky Dragon''s Soul. Ace didn''t have any expectations from Arlon, assuming he''d become like the foolish past hosts who barely survived a week."]


    Arlon blinked, bewildered. The words flashed before him faster than he could process, revealing what Ace was thinking as if it were being narrated straight out of a book.


    ["Ace was already contemplating where to go after being confined in the mountain cave for five years. ''Where should I eat¡ªno, first figure out where to go, then think about the food I haven''t tasted yet.'' He was excited to explore."]


    Flutter¡ªFlutter


    More screens popped up, narrating Ace''s thoughts as though reading directly from his mind. Arlon glanced around, slightly irritated but intrigued, recalling how he''d forgotten the narrator was still present here. It''s been so quiet that I almost forgot it existed, he thought as he skimmed over the floating screens.


    Five years trapped in that cave? What about the other Soul Guardians? He remembered the book he''d found¡ªthe one with an entire section on Soul Guardians that the novel hadn''t focused on. There must be information on the others in there too.


    As he resumed his walk, Ace began explaining the dangers surrounding his power, describing various disasters that could kill him if he misused it¡ªor even if he didn''t.


    Arlon sighed, a faint smile tugging at his lips. What a life.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª


    The storm over the mountain range finally subsided, the dark clouds dispersing along with the thunder and wild winds. It was as if the mountain itself had calmed and drifted off to sleep.


    Drip¡ªdrip


    "The rain suddenly stops¡­" Lawrence murmured, still standing where he''d been since Arlon had entered the cave. His eyes stayed fixed on the cave''s entrance, hopeful yet tense. How long does he need to stay there? he wondered, thinking back to what Arlon had told him before they arrived.


    "The Celestial Clan is planning to fight against the Empire if they get the Dragon''s Soul, and that''s when a war will start," Arlon had explained, calm yet serious.


    "Why would they do that?" Lawrence had asked, frowning.


    "It''s to gain control of the Empire''s throne for the Crown Prince. The Pry Clan has allied with the Crown Prince, so if they kill the Emperor, the Crown Prince will be authorized to take the throne without question in return for supporting the Celestial Clan," Arlon had explained in detail. "If we successfully get the Dragon''s Soul, we can stop that from happening. Plus, we can use it against them."


    That had made Lawrence stop and look at Arlon with a renewed determination. "Are you going to help me to avenge my people?" he''d asked.


    "Of course, and to make you stronger than them." Arlon had replied with conviction.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Lawrence had never had close friends or family; he''d always been on his own. But hearing Arlon''s words had ignited something in him, a drive to protect others, to keep others from facing loss as he had.


    "I can''t lose another life¡­" he''d mumbled quietly to himself, resolute.


    Step¡ªstep


    The sound of footsteps echoed out of the cave, snapping Lawrence from his thoughts. He looked up to see Arlon emerging slowly, his form weary and disheveled, as if he''d been inside for an eternity.


    "Arlon," Lawrence called, hurrying over to him. Arlon looked drained, his pale face and dusty appearance showing just how much he''d endured. "What happened? Are you alright?" he asked, worrying, lacing his tone as he looked Arlon over.


    "Yeah¡­ I''m good," Arlon replied, giving a calm but slightly awkward smile, absently scratching his head.


    He looks even paler than last time, Lawrence thought, his concern deepening. He quickly helped Arlon sit down, handing him a bottle of water. Arlon was a mess, covered in dust and with his hair in wild disarray. Whatever had happened in that cave must have taken a toll on him, yet Lawrence could sense something different, something stronger in him now.


    Arlon looked up, dust still clinging to his cloak and hair, only to find Lawrence staring at him with a mix of admiration and something¡­ closer to pity. Beside him, Ace''s voice echoed in his mind, laced with a half-amused, half-skeptical tone.


    "You look stronger," Lawrence said with a small, approving smile.


    "And you look¡­ pity," Ace murmured, his voice dripping with mock concern.


    Arlon blinked, momentarily thrown by their reactions. "What the¡­ what are you two looking at?" he muttered, realizing he was caught between admiration on one side and pure judgment on the other. He shook his head and turned to Lawrence, noticing the dirt and exhaustion on his face.


    He must''ve been standing here the whole time, waiting for me to return.


    "Why did you wait here, anyway?" Arlon asked, trying to brush off the awkwardness. He raised an eyebrow, but there was a faint gratitude in his gaze.


    Lawrence''s expression softened as he shifted his stance. "I¡­ I was worried you wouldn''t come back alive," he admitted, his voice sincere.


    Ace huffed with an air of disbelief. "Worried? This weakling?" The dragon''s voice held a slight sneer, but then, almost as if in spite of himself, Ace added thoughtfully, "Though, I guess, he could probably split a mountain in two if he tried hard enough."


    Arlon''s shoulders stiffened. Split a mountain in two? he thought, wondering just what Ace saw in him that he didn''t see himself.


    He reached out and patted Lawrence''s shoulder, a rare, awkward gesture of gratitude. "It''s alright," he said quietly. "But thanks¡­ for waiting."


    Lawrence''s face softened, a brief but genuine smile passing over his features. He bent down, dusting off his cloak as he prepared to descend the mountain path. But before he could pull it over his shoulders, Arlon stopped him, yanking the robe out of his hands and casting it aside.


    "We don''t need that," Arlon said simply, his expression calm.


    Lawrence looked puzzled. "What? Then¡­ how exactly are we supposed to get down?" he asked, his eyes widening as he glanced at the sheer cliff that dropped off beside them. "Are we just gonna¡­ roll down the mountain?"


    Arlon sighed, rubbing his temples. "Are you insane?" He turned, his gaze focused beyond Lawrence as he called out, "Ace, get us out of here."


    Whoosh¡ª


    A gust of wind whirled around them, and suddenly a bright purple glow appeared at their feet. Lawrence stumbled slightly as he felt the ground lift beneath him.


    "Wha¡ª!"


    But instead of falling, they began to float downward, carried by the same violet light that glowed in the depths of the mountain cave. Lawrence''s amazement grew as they glided through the mist. "Is¡­ is this¡­ the power of the Dragon Soul?"


    Arlon nodded. "Yes," he replied curtly, watching Lawrence''s awed expression.


    In truth, he hadn''t actually learned to control Ace''s power¡ªhe hadn''t even tried yet. This was all Ace''s doing. Arlon had barely wanted the dragon soul, but now it had merged with him, and there was no turning back. In his mind, he heard Ace''s voice.


    "I''ll get you down the mountain this time," Ace''s voice echoed coolly. "But be warned¡ªthe mountain may react to my absence. It was my prison, after all, and¡­ well, let''s just say things are bound to get a bit chaotic without me there."


    Arlon smirked a little, understanding the threat yet finding it oddly satisfying.


    "I think we''ll manage," he murmured, watching as Ace carried them toward the forest at the base of the mountain.


    They touched down at last, and as soon as Arlon''s feet met the ground, Lawrence let out a small, almost reverent exhale.


    "I never thought I''d see it¡­ the power of a Dragon Soul, right in front of me."


    "Not just any Dragon Soul," Arlon corrected, though he tried to keep his tone light. "This is Ace."


    Lawrence tilted his head, curiosity shining in his eyes. "Ace? That''s¡­ his name?"


    Arlon gave a nod, glancing briefly at the purple light that floated beside him.The purple light grew brighter for a moment, as if responding to Lawrence''s words, and then drifted closer, almost inspecting him.


    Ace''s voice spoke within Arlon''s mind, though Arlon could sense it wasn''t entirely directed at him.


    "This kid¡­ he hides his true strength, you know." Ace''s tone was thoughtful. "It''s like he''s holding back. But why? What is he afraid of?"


    Arlon glanced at Lawrence as they began their walk back toward the village. Why indeed? he thought, curiosity growing.


    Ace wasn''t finished. "Hey, kid. That human there," Ace remarked with a hint of challenge in his voice, "he looks stronger than you right now."


    Arlon''s mouth twitched into a faint smirk. Of course he does, he''s the main character, after all.


    As they walked through the forest edge, Arlon glanced at the glowing purple orb that floated beside him, pondering how best to introduce Ace without completely shocking Lawrence.


    Maybe this will do, he thought, extending his hand toward the light. "Ace," he murmured quietly, "could you, uh, appear in a¡­ less intimidating form?"


    "... Sigh"


    The orb hovered, pulsing in what seemed like silent protest. Then, with a faint, dramatic sigh, it began to swirl, shifting colors from purple to an inky black, its shape compressing and morphing until a small black cat with piercing red eyes appeared in front of them.


    Lawrence blinked, taken aback. "Wait, that''s¡­ Ace?"


    "Yes," Ace''s voice echoed from the tiny form, his tone a mix of disdain and annoyance. "Thanks to you, I''ve been forced into this ridiculous shape. If your body weren''t such a weak vessel, I could have appeared in my full dragon form. But no¡­ instead, I have to walk on this little four legs," he finished, casting an indignant look at Arlon as he sat down and curled his tail around his paws.


    Arlon held back a grin, eyeing the dragon-now-cat with mild amusement. "I''d say it suits you."


    Ace flicked his tail, his red eyes narrowing. "If it weren''t for the fact that I don''t want to completely drain your pitiful reserves of energy, I wouldn''t be here, like this. But," he sighed dramatically, glancing up at Lawrence, "I suppose introductions are in order."


    Lawrence''s eyes narrowed as he studied the black cat pacing beside them. "So this is the Sky Dragon''s Soul?" he asked cautiously.


    "It''s¡­ not what I expected."


    "I assure you, human, I''m not thrilled about this either," Ace replied, flicking his tail. "But I''ll make do¡ªfor now."


    Lawrence shot a wary glance at Arlon. "Can you really control him?"


    Arlon hesitated. "Let''s just say¡­ we''re figuring that out."


    "I think it''s¡­ kind of fitting. You''re certainly¡­ memorable this way."


    Ace scoffed, flicking his tail. "Memorable? I was legendary. I''ve split mountains, summoned storms, brought kingdoms to ruin. Now I''m¡ª"


    "¡ªadorable," Arlon interrupted with a smirk, and Lawrence actually chuckled this time, unable to hold it back.


    Ace shot Arlon a look that would have been deadly if he weren''t, in fact, an unimposing black cat. "Laugh all you like, but remember that I hold the power of calamity, mortal."


    Arlon raised an eyebrow. "So you say."


    Clearing his throat, Arlon returned his focus to Lawrence. "In any case, Lawrence, no one can know about Ace. His presence, his form¡ªeverything has to stay secret."


    Lawrence nodded seriously, though he kept glancing back at Ace, his expression a mix of awe and amusement. "I promise," he said finally. "But¡­ Ace, right? Can you¡­ turn into anything else?"


    Ace bristled. "Anything? Not with this frail vessel I''m bound to," he muttered, shooting Arlon an irritated glare. "Just be thankful I don''t have to wear a collar."


    Arlon snorted. "Noted. Shall we move on?"


    The unlikely trio resumed their walk down the mountain path, with Ace muttering under his breath about the indignity of it all as he prowled gracefully beside them.


    Lawrence followed, still stealing glances at the now-small, now-temporary "Dragon Soul" as they made their way back to the village, all three bound by their secret¡ªhowever absurd it may have seemed.


    Arlon pulled his hood over his face as they approached the village, the shadows from his cloak shielding his identity. Only Lawrence and Ace could see his face now.


    There''s still time, he thought. But deep down, Arlon knew it wouldn''t be long before they were drawn into the struggle he''d hoped to escape. And as he walked forward, he wondered just how many more secrets Ace was hiding¡ªand if he could survive the price they''d both have to pay.


    "Let''s wait and see how it goes¡­"


    The group reached the village center just as dawn was breaking, casting soft pink and orange hues over the makeshift camp. Villagers stirred, slowly waking from their rest, and a murmur of relief passed through the crowd as they noticed Lawrence and Arlon had returned.


    Although Arlon kept his face concealed, the villagers were grateful for any help they could get in these troubled times.


    Arlon was still processing the fatigue from the night''s events when a loud, desperate cry broke through the morning calm.


    "Help! Please help us!"


    He turned to see a woman stumbling out of the forest, her face pale and frantic, followed by a tall man who bore a massive sword on his back.

 Chapter 8: The Moon Mage

    Flutter¡ª


    ["¡ªThe woman had striking blonde hair with a faint orange-yellow tint that glinted in the early morning light.]


    [Her robes, emblazoned with faint mystical symbols, marked her as a mage of considerable skill. Beside her, the man had the same bright hair, with intense green eyes that scanned the surroundings, alert and ready¡ª]


    Arlon felt a pang of dread. No way¡­ it''s them, he thought, his mind racing. He had expected to encounter these two much later in the story¡ªif he was following the original plot at all.


    Ace, perched on Arlon''s shoulder, glanced down at him, sensing his unease. "Looks like fate didn''t get the memo about your plans to keep things simple," the cat muttered dryly, his tail flicking in amusement.


    Lawrence, already stepping forward to assess the situation, didn''t seem to notice Arlon''s hesitation. "What''s happened?" he asked, his tone calm but urgent.


    The woman caught her breath, clutching her chest as if reliving the horrors. "They came out of nowhere¡ªblack-robed figures with magic that twisted the air. They took the children, caging them like animals. We barely escaped with our lives as the village burned behind us!"


    The tall man, who had been silent, lowered his head and spoke with a gravelly voice. "Please¡­ we need help. They were using some sort of ritual magic¡­ the village was burning when we left."


    Arlon clenched his fists, forcing himself to focus. He remembered these two¡ªAlice, the mage blessed the next guardian of the World Tree, and her brother, Anthony, the first blessed mage knight who wielded mana stone in battle. According to the novel, they were supposed to meet Lawrence much later, while he was en route to the Empire. Their sudden appearance here was unsettling.


    Am I throwing everything out of balance? Arlon thought, feeling a slight chill. He knew Alice and Anthony played a vital role in aiding the villagers during the war, guiding them to safety while Lawrence and the second prince forces fought against the Celestial Clan. And now¡­ they were standing in front of him, way ahead of schedule.


    Lawrence glanced at Arlon and nodded. "We''ll help," he said with a grim determination, and Arlon felt his stomach twist at the thought.


    Ace, still on his shoulder, huffed in annoyance, his tail swishing. "What did you expect? Fate''s not about to go easy on you."


    Arlon shot him a look, muttering, "You could at least sound supportive."


    The siblings, visibly relieved, quickly explained more details to Lawrence. "They had children¡­ in cages," Alice whispered, her voice shaking. "I think they were setting up a ritual. They mean to use them as¡­ sacrifices."


    Lawrence''s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening with a cold resolve that Arlon rarely saw. "Then we need to act quickly," he said, motioning to Arlon. "Let''s go."


    Arlon winced internally. His role had become inevitable, whether he liked it or not. Despite his inner resistance, he nodded reluctantly, glancing back at Ace.


    "Can''t you help me get through this?"


    Ace''s voice echoed in his mind. "I''m not holding your hand. But I''ll allow a fraction of my power¡ªif you bring me to somewhere interesting, that is," he purred. "Or, maybe, I''ll even teach you a trick or two. Let''s see if you''re worthy."


    Suppressing an eyeroll, Arlon sighed. "Fine. Let''s do this."


    Alice approached him at that moment, bowing with a grateful expression. "Thank you¡­ I''m Alice, and this is my brother, Anthony. We owe you so much for this."


    Lawrence introduces. "I''m Lawrence Hill and this is Arlon Throndsen."


    Alice stiffened, her eyes widening momentarily. Arlon noticed the slight flinch and held his breath, wondering if she had recognized his family name. But after a moment, she looked away, brushing it off, likely dismissing it as coincidence.


    Once reassured that the villagers would be safe, they set off, following the path through the woods toward the wolf village. As they reached a clearing, Alice raised her hand, whispering an incantation. A portal began to form, its light swirling with faint sparks.


    Arlon felt a rush of relief. No need to walk the whole way? Finally, something''s going right. But as they stepped into the portal, a strange sensation washed over him, making his vision blur.


    The light surrounding them was almost overwhelming, and he felt himself momentarily losing his balance, grasping at nothing as they shifted across space.


    Shoom¡ª


    The light finally faded, and they stumbled out onto the edge of the wolf village, where smoke curled into the sky, thickening the air with an acrid smell. Cries echoed faintly through the trees, and the distant clanging of weapons could be heard.


    Arlon''s mind raced as he took in the scene. The village lay in partial ruins, its houses crumbling under the weight of the flames. Villagers scattered in a desperate attempt to escape, their fear palpable as the dark figures in robes pursued them.


    Anthony unsheathed his sword with a steely determination, mana shimmering along its edge. "We''ll distract them and keep them away from the villagers. Lawrence, take Arlon help them escape to safety," he instructed, before plunging forward with Alice by his side.


    Lawrence glanced at Arlon, the fierce determination in his gaze unyielding. "Let''s move," he said, already leading the way.


    Arlon felt a spark of adrenaline as he followed, urging himself to stay focused. He wasn''t a hero, but for now, survival and escape were the only things that mattered.


    As the battle raged around them, Lawrence and Anthony were deep in combat, cutting through the black-robed cultists with deadly precision. Alice, standing back-to-back with her brother, cast defensive spells to shield the villagers who fled from the chaos.


    Dooom¡ª


    Explosions of light and waves of energy pulsed across the village, clashing with the dark magic emanating from their enemies.


    Fwooosh¡ª


    Her fingers wove intricate patterns, and radiant beams erupted from her palm, piercing through the ranks of enemies. Her face was fierce, her jaw clenched with resolve as she focused on keeping the villagers safe amidst the chaos.


    Anthony and Lawrence tore into the heart of the enemy lines, leading the charge with brutal efficiency. Anthony swung his sword, its mana-charged edge cutting through robed figures as if they were nothing but air, while Lawrence moved like a shadow, every strike precise and lethal. The figures in black robes, Pry members, scattered in their path, struggling to regroup.


    The cultists retaliated, chanting spells in low, guttural voices as they raised twisted staves, but Lawrence and the siblings held them at bay. They chanted in deep, guttural tones, their staves crackling with dark energy as they unleashed spells into the fray.


    They attacked with relentless savagery, launching cursed projectiles and summoning shadowy creatures to harry the defenders. Explosions of light clashed with waves of dark energy, filling the air with the smell of scorched earth and the bitter tang of burnt magic.


    The cultists'' eyes glowed beneath their hoods, driven by a twisted zeal as they raised their staves again and again, attacking with dark determination.


    "Push forward!" Lawrence commanded, his voice strong above the chaos. He sidestepped a cultist''s thrust, driving his sword into his opponent''s chest before whirling to parry another attack from behind.


    Anthony was a step ahead, his sword ablaze with mana energy as he cut down two cultists in a single stroke. The two moved in unison, a coordinated wave of lethal force as they tore through the heart of the enemy ranks.


    Meanwhile, Arlon and Ace slipped through the chaos, moving toward the cages at the far end of the camp. Ace, in his black cat form, perched lightly on Arlon''s shoulder, his sharp eyes surveying their surroundings as they approached the metal cages lined up in grim rows. Each cage was battered and small, clearly meant to hold the young wolf villagers, their small forms huddled together or lying limp.


    Arlon''s stomach twisted as he opened the first cage, the acrid stench of burnt fur and blood hitting him like a physical blow. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at the lifeless bodies inside, their small forms huddled together, singed fur clinging to thin frames. With each cage he opened, his chest grew tighter, the weight of helplessness pressing down on him.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    All dead? His stomach twisted with a wave of guilt and frustration. They were too late.''Just like in the novel, no gray wolf is alive in this accident''


    Ace growled softly beside him, sensing his distress. "Focus," he muttered. "There may still be hope."


    Just as Arlon opened the last cage, Ace''s ears perked up, and he lifted his head, sniffing the air. "Wait¡­ there''s one more. Still breathing," he whispered.


    Arlon scanned the area, his eyes darting over the cages, and then he spotted it¡ªa small cage almost hidden by debris, where a little gray wolf boy lay crumpled, barely visible. Rushing over, he dropped to his knees, fingers fumbling with the rusty chains binding the boy.


    The child''s clothes was covered in ash and grime, and the faint rise and fall of his chest told Arlon that he was alive, though only barely.


    Arlon carefully pried away the chains, wincing at the rough iron biting into the boy''s skin. But as he worked, a sudden chill ran down his spine¡ªa presence was nearby, one that felt dark, twisted, and overpowering.


    He glanced up, and his blood went cold.


    A figure emerged from the shadows, the edges of his tattered black robe dripping with blood that soaked into the scorched earth beneath him. His hood obscured most of his face, but as he stepped closer, the flickering flames illuminated his features¡ªa pale visage marred by two piercing eyes, one burning crimson, the other a sickly gold that gleamed like rotting sunlight.


    The Moon Mage, he realized, dread pooling in his stomach. According to the novel, this was one of the infamous half-blood twin mages¡ªa Moon Mage, whose power over dark magic was rivaled only by the Sun Mage, his equally deadly sibling.


    The Moon Mage was known for ruthlessly using forbidden spells, sacrifices, and an insatiable thirst for blood.


    Ace, now fully alert, leaped from Arlon''s shoulder, landing beside him with a low, guttural growl. "Is that a half blood cursed Mage. We can take him down if you want."


    Arlon froze, his breath catching as his heart hammered in his chest. "Ace, are you out of your mind?" he hissed, his voice barely audible over the roaring flames. "That''s the Moon Mage. One of the strongest mages alive. I wouldn''t stand a chance even if I knew how to use your power!"


    The Moon Mage was already moving closer, his gaze piercing, a dark energy gathering around his hands as he muttered a quiet incantation.He''s lips twisted into a cruel smile as his gaze landed on Arlon.


    Step¡ªstep


    He took a step forward, his crimson and golden eyes gleaming with an unholy light, as though he sensed Arlon''s fear and was relishing it.


    "Ah, the hero arrives," the Moon Mage sneered, his voice laced with mocking disdain. "Do you think this is your moment of glory? How quaint. You''re nothing more than a gnat buzzing in my way."


    Arlon''s mind raced. He had to protect the boy, but standing against the Moon Mage was suicide. He could barely keep his hands from trembling as he backed away, keeping the wolf boy shielded behind him.


    Anger flared in Arlon''s chest, but he forced himself to stay calm. "Ace," he whispered, "Let me use your power."


    Ace''s eyes gleamed with a fierce intensity. "Alright, I''ll hold him off, even if it''s just for a few moments, then you draw him away from the boy."


    The Moon Mage''s twisted smile widened, the crimson and gold of his eyes gleaming with sadistic delight. "How charming. You really think you can stand against me?" With a casual flick of his wrist, dark tendrils of energy unfurled like snakes, surging toward Arlon with a suffocating, heavy force that bent the air around them.


    Arlon dodged, barely managing to pull the wolf boy out of the line of attack, and Ace darted forward, shifting into a shadowy form to swipe at the mage. Though the attack barely scratched him, it forced the Moon Mage to step back, his red and gold eyes narrowing in irritation.


    Taking advantage of the moment, Arlon backed away, clutching the wolf boy to his chest. He could feel the boy''s faint heartbeat, the fragile life within him barely hanging on.


    Plop¡ª


    As another cultist fell, Lawrence stole a glance around, his thoughts momentarily flickering to Arlon. The last he had seen of him, Arlon had been dealing with the cages, and he hadn''t had time to follow.


    Worry pricked at Lawrence''s mind. Is he holding up? he wondered. Despite their overwhelming numbers, he knew how relentless the Pry cultists could be.


    Lawrence tightened his grip on his sword, his unease sharpening with every moment that passed. "I''m going to find Arlon," he said firmly, his voice low but resolute. Anthony gave him a quick nod, trusting him without question as Lawrence broke away from the battle, his sharp eyes scanning the burning ruins.


    The fighting intensified as Lawrence scanned the area, looking for Arlon amidst the rubble and smoke.


    Thump¡ª Thump¡ª


    Arlon''s heart pounded as he found a small sheltered nook among the roots of a massive tree, gently placing the unconscious wolf boy there, hidden from sight. He brushed a strand of hair from the boy''s face, murmuring, "Stay here. I''ll come back for you." But as he straightened up, his resolve turned into an iron determination.


    Turning back, Arlon''s mind raced through every encounter from the novel he could remember about the Moon Mage¡ªhis power, his style, his merciless nature. This wasn''t just a fight for survival; it was a test of everything Arlon knew, everything he could muster.


    "Alright, Ace," Arlon whispered, swallowing hard as he returned to the open area. "Let''s hold him off."


    Ace flicked his tail, his red eyes gleaming with a fierce light as he shifted back to his small, cat-like form. "Are you ready to accept the power of the Sky Soul Dragon?" Ace asked, his voice quiet yet charged with intensity.


    The Moon Mage had been waiting, a twisted smile of amusement on his face as Arlon approached. His voice was calm, mocking. "Coming back alone? Do you think that little show of defiance will make a difference?" He raised his hand, and dark tendrils of energy gathered around it, twisting and coiling like living serpents.


    Arlon took a steadying breath and nodded, a determined fire igniting within him. "I''m ready."


    "Let''s see what you''re made of." His voice dripped with disdain as he unleashed the tendrils, sending them slithering through the air toward Arlon with terrifying speed.


    Arlon sidestepped, feeling the dark magic slice through the space where he''d stood a heartbeat ago. He dodged another set of attacks, barely managing to keep himself out of harm''s way, but he knew he couldn''t just keep running.


    Ace leapt onto Arlon''s shoulder, his form melding into the shadows curling around Arlon''s neck. A sharp, searing pulse struck Arlon''s chest as his heart thundered against his ribs. He gasped, his senses overwhelmed as raw, electric power coursed through his veins, hot and volatile, as though lightning itself had chosen him as its vessel.


    A raw, untamed force surged through him, scorching his veins with an intensity that felt like molten fire and crackling thunder. It wasn''t just power¡ªit was chaos, a force too vast for his body to contain.


    Shook¡ª


    Dark, swirling energy began to surround them, forming a vortex of black and dark purple mist, crackling with raw, untamed energy. It spiraled upward, forming a faint hurricane that tore through the air, casting an ominous shadow across the forest.


    Fsssh¡ª


    Above them, dark clouds gathered, thickening and swirling, streaked with flashes of lightning that illuminated the sky with bursts of violet and silver.


    Meanwhile, not far from the scene, Lawrence was combing through the battlefield, searching for Arlon and Ace. He looked up, his eyes narrowing as he saw the stormy clouds gathering, the familiar chaotic energy crackling through the air. It reminded him of the stormy mountain, a place known for the fierce and unpredictable power of the Sky Soul Dragon.


    "Arlon¡­" he murmured, realizing that Arlon was drawing on Ace''s power. His urgency spiked, and he quickened his pace, determination etched into his face.


    As he sprinted through the scorched remains of the battlefield, Lawrence''s sharp eyes caught a faint movement among the roots of a massive tree. His breath hitched as he knelt, his hands brushing away ash and dirt to reveal the unconscious wolf boy. Relief surged through him as he pressed two fingers to the boy''s neck, feeling the faint but steady pulse beneath his fingertips.


    "You''re alive," Lawrence murmured, his voice tinged with quiet determination. "And I''ll make sure you stay that way."


    As he carefully lifted the boy into his arms, the child''s eyes fluttered open, a faint, searching expression in his gaze. The wolf boy''s gaze scanned the battlefield, as if looking for the person who had saved him, who now stood facing the Moon Mage in the heart of the storm.


    Lawrence tightened his hold, his voice soft but firm. "Don''t worry. He''s still out there." With that, Lawrence turned and began making his way toward the swirling, stormy clouds ahead, driven by a fierce determination to find Arlon and Ace.


    Back in the clearing, Arlon felt the power surging through him, fueling his muscles, sharpening his senses, as the storm around him grew wild. He felt like he was standing at the edge of a precipice, staring into the vast, dark abyss of Ace''s strength.


    The Moon Mage''s eyes flickered with intrigue, a slight smile playing on his lips as he watched Arlon with a twisted fascination. "So you''re drawing on that dragon''s power? Interesting. But you''re still just a child playing with forces beyond your control."


    Arlon clenched his fists, feeling the energy pulse in his veins. He forced himself to focus, centering his mind on the battle, the need to hold this mage at bay for as long as possible. "We''ll see if you can still call me a child after this."


    Woooosh¡ª


    The Moon Mage''s hand shot forward, and dark energy erupted like a tidal wave, rushing toward Arlon with the force of an avalanche. But this time, Arlon didn''t flinch. Gritting his teeth, he raised his hand, summoning the storm''s fury. Violet lightning erupted from his palm, crashing against the dark wave with a deafening roar. The resulting shockwave tore through the clearing, shaking the earth and scattering sparks into the air like shattered stars.


    The mage''s smile faltered, his glowing eyes narrowing with cold calculation. "So, the weakling has teeth after all," he murmured, his tone mocking yet laced with intrigue. He stepped closer, his movements deliberate, almost predatory. "Let''s see how long that spark of yours can hold out before I snuff it out."


    The battlefield erupted in chaos as dark energy and violet lightning collided in midair, spiraling together in a violent storm of destruction. Each clash sent shockwaves rippling outward, shattering nearby trees and scorching the earth. The air crackled with power, each strike brighter, louder, more desperate as the storm consumed the clearing.


    But the Moon Mage was relentless, adapting to Arlon''s rhythm, his attacks growing sharper, more focused. In a swift movement, he summoned a vortex of dark flames that spiraled around him, the heat searing through the air as he directed it toward Arlon.


    Arlon planted his feet, every muscle in his body trembling as he summoned the storm''s energy. His hands crackled with lightning, the air around him rippling with wind and fury. With a roar, he thrust his arms forward, the tempest colliding with the dark flames in a dazzling explosion of violet light.


    Fsssh¡ª


    Panting, Arlon steadied himself, his eyes meeting the mage''s.


    Arlon''s breaths came in ragged gasps, his limbs trembling as the weight of Ace''s power bore down on him. Every move felt like dragging a storm through his veins¡ªpotent but heavy, unyielding. The strength it gave him was exhilarating, but the toll was unbearable, like a fire threatening to burn him alive from the inside out.


    "Is this what you call power?" the Moon Mage sneered, his mismatched eyes glinting with cruel amusement. "You''re nothing but a vessel¡ªfragile, trembling, and barely holding together. Shall we see how long you last before you shatter?"


    Arlon gritted his teeth, his mind racing. He glanced at Ace, who had perched back on his shoulder, eyes fixed on the mage. "Ace, we have to give it everything we''ve got. One final push."


    Ace''s red eyes gleamed, his tone sharper than usual. "You''ve got one chance, kid. Don''t waste it. Or do¡ªand I''ll be free of this mess sooner than later."

 Chapter 9: Storms Within and Without

    Arlon surged forward, every nerve alight with the raw power of the storm coursing through him. Crackling streaks of violet and silver lightning tore through the air, converging with the Moon Mage''s dark orb in a brilliant, fiery clash.


    The resulting explosion rocked the battlefield, the force rippling outward in a wave that scorched the ground beneath them


    For a heartbeat, time seemed to stand still, the air thick with the raw clash of their powers. Then, with a final surge of energy, Arlon broke through, his lightning slicing through the mage''s attack, forcing the dark figure to stagger back.


    Arlon felt the weight of the fight crashing down on him, his muscles aching and breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. Despite his exhaustion, he kept his gaze steady on the Moon Mage, who was visibly furious, his mismatched red and gold eyes gleaming with both anger and dark curiosity.


    "Who are you?" the mage snarled, his voice barely a whisper but laced with venom.


    His gaze flicked to Ace, perched protectively on Arlon''s shoulder. "The Soul Sky Guardian should have been bound to a warrior of great renown. How did you¡­a mere child¡­come to possess it?"


    Arlon''s lips pressed into a thin line. He didn''t have an answer that would satisfy the mage, nor did he want to. His silence only seemed to enrage the Moon Mage further, his dark aura growing heavier, more lethal.


    "Answer me, boy," the mage sneered. "Or I''ll strip the dragon from you myself and claim it as my own."


    "Oh yeah,then come a get it! " Arlon shot back, his voice defiant even as he struggled to stay on his feet.


    "Then that''s what it will be."


    The Moon Mage raised his hands, a dark, writhing mass of energy forming between his palms, growing into a dense sphere that pulsed with malice.


    But before the mage could strike again, Lawrence appeared behind him, his sword glinting with a deadly light.


    "You''re done,"he said coldly, slashing at the mage with a swift, decisive strike that forced the dark figure to retreat.


    Lawrence moved like a shadow, his blade gleaming with an unrelenting light as he emerged behind the Moon Mage. "Your game ends here," he declared, his voice a cold blade of its own. With a swift, precise strike, his sword cut through the mage''s defenses, forcing the dark figure to stumble back in a rare show of weakness


    The mage smirked, attempting to summon another dark spell, but Lawrence was faster, his blade flashing as he struck again, delivering a powerful blow that knocked the mage to the ground. He landed hard, struggling to rise, his breaths coming fast and labored.


    Arlon watched, awe-struck as Lawrence loomed over the mage, his gaze as unyielding as iron.


    Lawrence''s voice was cold, almost taunting as he spoke, "It must be hard¡­seeing the Soul Sky Guardian bound to someone else. I suppose it wasn''t meant for someone with a fractured heart."


    The words cut deeper than any sword, the mage''s defiant sneer faltered, his mismatched eyes clouding with something almost human¡ªshame? Regret? It flickered only for a moment before anger reclaimed his features, though his trembling hands betrayed him


    The mention of a "fractured heart" struck a nerve, and his grip faltered, his hands trembling as he tried to summon the power to retaliate.


    Lawrence seized the moment, his sword striking with a forceful blow to the mage''s chest. The dark magic in the mage''s hands fizzled, his entire body going slack as he collapsed, unconscious and motionless, his breathing shallow.


    Thud¡ª


    Arlon stood frozen, watching the mage''s form lying still on the ground. The storm clouds above began to clear, and a tense silence settled over the battlefield, the once-relentless force of the Moon Mage now reduced to nothing.


    Arlon''s legs buckled, the last of his strength draining as he collapsed onto the scorched earth. His chest heaved with ragged breaths, every muscle trembling from the strain. Before he could fully hit the ground, Lawrence was there, steadying him with an arm around his shoulder.


    "You held your ground, Arlon," Lawrence said, his voice low but carrying a rare note of pride


    Arlon managed a faint, weary smile, glancing down at Ace, who purred in approval. "I¡­ survived," he murmured, the weight of the battle finally sinking in.


    Lawrence placed a reassuring hand on Arlon''s shoulder. "You did more than that," he said firmly, his voice carrying a rare note of pride. "You protected him." He gestured to the wolf boy, now safe in the arms of a nearby villager, who watched Arlon with a quiet, reverent awe.


    Arlon met the boy''s gaze, feeling a spark of hope rekindle in his chest. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to savor this small victory. They had won this battle, but he knew the larger war was far from over.


    As he caught his breath, Arlon sensed movement behind him. He turned to see Alice and Anthony hurrying toward them, their faces etched with worry. Relief flooded their expressions as they took in the sight of Arlon, Lawrence, and the others standing amidst the aftermath of the battle.


    "We were starting to think¡­" Alice''s voice trailed off, her shoulders visibly relaxing. "When the robed men fell to the ground, we feared the worst."


    Anthony nodded, glancing around at the defeated cultists. "They collapsed so suddenly. We didn''t understand why."


    Arlon exchanged a knowing look with Ace, realization dawned on him. The Moon Mage must have held a controlling bond over the cultists, a dark connection that linked their fates to his own. With the mage defeated, his servants'' lives had likely been snuffed out along with his influence.


    But rather than reveal this detail, Arlon simply said, "Their power was tied to something¡­unstable. Once that was broken, they had nothing left to hold them."


    Alice looked at him, studying his face. She seemed satisfied with his answer and nodded. "Regardless, we have survivors here who need refuge."


    "We''ll take them to my home village," Lawrence interjected, a determined edge to his tone. "They''ll be safe there."


    Arlon agreed, gesturing toward the shaken villagers. "Let''s not waste any time. We need to get them out of here while we still have daylight."


    Alice immediately prepared a teleportation circle, her hands moving gracefully as she drew complex symbols in the air. With each gesture, the air shimmered and crackled, a faint blue glow forming beneath her fingertips.


    Meanwhile, Lawrence and Anthony moved through the survivors, ushering them toward the circle with calm, reassuring words.


    Once everyone was gathered, Alice raised her hands, channeling her magic as the teleportation circle pulsed with a vibrant energy. She glanced back, ensuring everyone was safely within the boundary, then nodded. "Hold on¡ªit may be a little rough."


    Fwooosh¡ª


    In a flash of light, the landscape shifted, and Arlon felt his stomach lurch as they reappeared on the outskirts of Lawrence''s home village. The familiar sight of the quiet village, surrounded by rolling fields and bordered by thick forest, brought a sense of peace over the group.


    Villagers emerged from their homes, curious and ready to help, as Lawrence explained the situation and organized a safe shelter for the weary survivors.


    As the last of the survivors were settled in, Arlon caught sight of the wolf boy again, now seated near a small fire with a warm blanket draped over his shoulders. The boy looked up and met Arlon''s gaze, his eyes filled with gratitude.


    Suddenly, Alice approached Arlon, her eyes lighting up as she spotted the black cat on his shoulder which was now visible to anyone.


    "Is that¡­ a Soul Guardian?".Alice gasped, her voice trembling with a mix of awe and disbelief. She leaned closer, her eyes wide with wonder as they fixed on the sleek black cat perched on Arlon''s shoulder. ''I never thought I''d see one with my own eyes.''"


    Arlon blinked, momentarily taken aback by her enthusiasm. "Uh, yes, actually," he replied, glancing at the cat. "This is Ace, the Soul Sky Guardian."


    Alice''s face lit up with wonder. "I''ve only read about Soul Sky Guardians in old tales! I never thought I''d actually see one!" She leaned in a bit closer, her gaze filled with fascination.


    Ace, clearly pleased by her reaction, dipped his head graciously. "It''s nice to meet someone who appreciates my¡­ legendary presence," he said, giving a playful flick of his tail. "And you must be Alice¡ªand that must be Anthony." He gestured toward Anthony, who was now watching with interest.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    Anthony nodded, smiling. "Yes, and it''s a pleasure to meet you, Ace. Arlon really managed to find a Soul Sky Guardian, That''s impressive."


    Alice turned back to Arlon, her eyes wide. "To think that you can wield the power of the Sky Soul¡­ it''s incredible."


    Arlon offered them a humble smile. "Thank you. It''s been a challenge, but I''m glad I can put it to good use."


    "Well, we''ll leave you to it," Alice said, still smiling. "We''re off to check on the villagers again, but thank you for letting us meet Ace."


    "Anytime," Arlon replied, nodding. As Alice and Anthony turned to leave, he called out, "And thank you¡ªfor everything you both did for the villagers."


    Alice glanced back, a warm smile on her face. "We''re all in this together, Arlon."


    With that, Alice and Anthony headed off to continue their work, leaving Arlon and Ace to share a brief, satisfied look.


    "Thank you," Arlon whispered, barely audible, more to himself than to anyone around.


    A quiet voice at his side broke his reverie. "This is just the beginning," Ace murmured, a knowing glint in his eyes. But before Arlon could fully process Ace''s words, a sudden chill crept up his spine¡ªa sense that something was amiss, a new threat on the horizon.


    This feels like a bad news.


    Just as Arlon turned to speak with Lawrence, a group of armored men with swords entered the village, their presence causing a ripple of alarm among the villagers. A murmur spread through the crowd as Alice, Anthony, and Lawrence instinctively stepped forward, preparing to defend against the unknown threat.


    Arlon stiffened as the air around him shifted, a familiar weight pressing against his senses. Dimitri Miller. Of course. His presence was as commanding as ever, even from a distance, and Arlon couldn''t suppress a pang of guilt as the armored entourage approached.


    Dimitri''s expression, a mix of worry and restrained fury, was enough to make Arlon brace himself for the storm to come


    As the armored group drew nearer, Arlon saw Dimitri''s unmistakable form at the front, his expression twisted with worry and determination.


    Arlon quickly raised a hand to stop the trio, moving forward himself, sensing that there was more to this arrival than it seemed.


    Ace, perched on his shoulder, tilted his head in confusion. "What are you doing? We don''t know if they''re hostile," he questioned.


    But before Arlon could respond, a familiar voice cut through the tense air.


    "My Lord!"


    The moment Dimitri spotted Arlon, he broke into a sprint, his voice laden with relief and reprimand.


    "My Lord!". Dimitri''s voice boomed across the clearing as he closed the distance with long, purposeful strides. "Do you have any idea what you''ve put me through!?" His words, sharp with both relief and reprimand, spilled out as he grasped Arlon by the shoulders. "I thought the worst¡ªI thought someone had taken you!"


    Dimitri Miller, his fiercely loyal butler, known for his relentless dedication and, at times, overwhelming concern. As Dimitri''s voice wavered, his eyes nearly watering, he shook Arlon slightly, almost demanding reassurance that his lord wouldn''t wander off without notifying him ever again.


    "..."


    Arlon was momentarily stunned, struggling to respond as Dimitri''s hold on him tightened. He couldn''t help but feel a mix of guilt and embarrassment, glancing around to see the villagers and the trio watching them in bewilderment.


    Lawrence''s eyebrows rose in surprise, while Alice and Anthony exchanged curious looks. The entire village was now silent, taken aback by the sight of the noble-looking servant scolding a masked traveller man.


    Ace, however, seemed rather entertained, letting out a low chuckle. "So¡­this is your keeper, huh?" he teased, his red eyes glinting with amusement as he watched Dimitri''s stern reprimand.


    Realizing he had to say something to defuse the situation, Arlon placed a hand on Dimitri''s shoulder, speaking with as much composure as he could muster. "Dimitri¡­ I didn''t mean to worry you. I just¡ªthings got a bit out of hand here, that''s all."


    Dimitri''s expression softened, though he still looked deeply troubled. "Out of hand? My lord, you have no idea the lengths I went to find you. I''ll not let this happen again. I will accompany you at all times if I must!"


    "..."


    Ace snickered, his voice barely a murmur in Arlon''s ear. "You? A nobleman? Doesn''t seem the type to me," he teased, flicking his tail in amusement. "I mean, if it weren''t for him calling you ''my lord,'' I''d think you were just¡­ you know, some runaway."


    "..."


    Arlon shot Ace a brief, exasperated look before focusing on calming Dimitri down. "Dimitri, listen," he said, his tone firm but reassuring.


    "I had a reason for going off. I followed a group of Pry members¡ªI had to find out what they were up to." He gestured to the surrounding village, still bearing scars from the recent attack.


    "When I saw they were targeting this place, I couldn''t turn back."


    The tension in Dimitri''s shoulders eased as he took in the scene, his eyes softening. For a brief moment, he seemed almost proud. "You''re¡­starting to sound like your father, my lord," Dimitri murmured, a note of approval in his voice,But it didn''t escape from Arlon''s view.


    Sigh¡ª


    With a sigh he turn to the gathered villagers and his companions, Arlon took a deep breath, preparing to introduce himself with the weight of his family name.With a deliberate motion, he reached up and pulled back the hood of his robe. The fabric fell away, revealing his face to the crowd.


    "I am Arlon Throndsen," he declared, his voice carrying the weight of his lineage. Pulling back his hood, he revealed his face to the gathered crowd, his eyes steady as they met theirs. "Firstborn son of Duke Ciel Throndsen. It is my duty, as a member of the House of Throndsen, to serve and protect those in need. Whatever hardships you face now, know that you will not face them alone."


    The words left his mouth confidently, though he could feel a slight flush of embarrassment creeping into his cheeks. It felt almost surreal to speak with such formality and weight, but the reactions around him reminded him it was the right choice.


    It still feels overwhelming, even though this isn''t my first time speaking in public.


    Dimitri, having collected himself, stood a little straighter as Arlon issued his next orders. "Dimitri, I need you to lead the villagers to the villa," he said firmly. "They''ll need a place to stay while we work to rebuild what''s been lost here."


    Dimitri''s eyes widened briefly, but he nodded, understanding. "Yes, my lord," he replied, his voice filled with newfound respect. Without another question, he began organizing the villagers, guiding them with the natural authority he had honed over years of service.


    As the villagers followed Dimitri''s lead, Arlon let out a quiet sigh of relief. Ace, however, wasn''t about to let him off the hook just yet. "Look at you," he purred, eyes glinting with mischief. "Lord of the land, protector of the people. If I didn''t know better, I''d say you were getting the hang of this."


    Arlon merely rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª


    By noon, the villa had settled into a calm, almost peaceful atmosphere. After all the chaos, the serene quiet was a welcome relief.


    Arlon stood by the gates of the villa, addressing the guards who had gathered before him. His commanding yet calm voice carried authority as he gave clear instructions.


    "Patrol the area thoroughly. Ensure the villa and its surroundings are secure," Arlon said. "And assist the villagers in settling into the villa grounds. Their recovery is a priority."


    The guards nodded in unison and dispersed to carry out their duties. As Arlon turned back toward the villa, he noticed Alice and Anthony hesitantly approaching.


    The siblings exchanged uncertain glances, their steps slow and cautious. It was clear they were unsure how to address him now that they had learned of his true identity.


    Stopping a few steps away, Alice spoke first, her tone overly polite. "Lord Throndsen... we came to¡ª"


    "Arlon is fine," he interrupted gently, a small smile playing on his lips. He gestured for them to relax. "There''s no need to act differently. Approach me as you did before. I appreciate your help with the villagers."


    "..."


    "..."


    Alice and Anthony both blinked in surprise but nodded, their unease fading slightly. After exchanging a quick glance, Anthony added, "We wanted to assist further. Perhaps by checking on the villagers and their conditions."


    Arlon''s smile grew a fraction warmer. "That would be helpful. Thank you. Your support means a lot."


    The siblings bowed their heads slightly, visibly relieved, and left to join the other helpers. Watching them walk away, Arlon turned to Dimitri, who was standing nearby.


    "Dimitri," he called, his tone shifting back to one of authority. "Have the maids and servants provide the villagers with anything they need. Prioritize food, clothing, and medical supplies."


    "As you wish, my lord," Dimitri replied with a slight bow before departing to carry out the orders.


    Satisfied, Arlon made his way inside the villa.


    Arlon stepped through the grand entrance of the villa, the sound of his boots echoing faintly against the polished marble floor. He paused briefly, letting his gaze sweep over the familiar interior¡ªthe high ceilings, intricate carvings on the columns, and the soft glow of the afternoon light filtering through stained-glass windows. It was a place that spoke of prestige, though its emptiness made it feel hollow.


    I hope the villagers don''t get overwhelmed by this place.


    Ace, perched comfortably on Arlon''s shoulder, stretched his tiny legs and yawned. "This place is massive," the black cat commented, his red eyes gleaming with curiosity. "I think I''ll go explore for a bit."


    Arlon glanced at him, one brow raised. "Explore?" he asked, his tone calm yet carrying a hint of warning. "Fine, but don''t get lost. And if you''re going to wander off, remember¡ªmy room is at the end of the corridor on the second floor. Go there there when you''re done."


    Ace tilted his head, his tail flicking playfully. "What do you take me for, I never get lost. I''m an excellent navigator."


    Arlon smirked faintly but didn''t reply, simply giving a small nod before continuing deeper into the villa. Ace leapt gracefully from Arlon''s shoulder to the floor, landing silently. The cat stretched again, his sleek black fur shimmering in the soft light, and then padded off down the corridor.


    "And don''t break anything!" Arlon called over his shoulder. Ace paused mid-step, turning to glance back with a sly flick of his tail. "Me? Break something? Perish the thought," he said smoothly, though the mischievous glint in his crimson eyes told a different story.


    Arlon sighed softly, shaking his head. "He''s becoming more like a real cat now," he muttered under his breath, though there was a trace of amusement in his tone.


    He adjusted the cuffs of his coat and moved further into the villa, his mind already shifting to the tasks at hand. As much as he trusted Ace to keep himself entertained, Arlon couldn''t shake the feeling that trouble tended to follow the little feline wherever he went.


    Let''s just hope that he behave.


    As he walked through the hallway,he came across Lawrence struggling to carry several bags and boxes at once. Without hesitation, Arlon approached.


    "Lawrence," he called out, causing the young man to flinch slightly. "Do you need help with that?"


    Lawrence glanced at him, his eyes widening with panic. His grip on the items tightened as he shook his head quickly. "Ah, no, I can handle it. Thank you."


    Arlon tilted his head, not noticing Lawrence''s unease. "If you''re sure. But don''t hesitate to ask if you need assistance."


    Before Lawrence could respond further, a maid approached, her expression flustered. "My lord, we have a problem," she said. "There aren''t enough rooms for all the villagers to stay in."


    Arlon turned to her immediately, his brows furrowing. "Where is Dimitri? He should be coordinating this."


    "He''s in the lobby, my lord," the maid replied.


    Nodding, Arlon glanced back at Lawrence. "We''ll speak later," he said, his tone calm but firm. Lawrence nodded silently, watching as Arlon followed the maid down the hallway.


    As Arlon disappeared around the corner, Lawrence stood motionless for a moment, his eyes fixed on the space where Arlon had disappeared. A flicker of self-doubt crossed his features before he squared his shoulders, clutching the boxes tighter.


    "I''ll prove myself," he murmured, the resolve in his voice quiet but unshakable


    Then, with renewed determination, he continued on his way.

 Chapter 10: Secrets in the Shadows

    In the lobby, Dimitri stood at attention as Arlon approached. The maids hovered nearby, awaiting instructions. Without hesitation, Arlon began issuing orders.


    "Dimitri," he said, his voice firm but even. "Open the unused rooms on the east wing and clear out any unnecessary furniture. Move the excess to the basement for storage."


    Dimitri inclined his head. "As you wish, my lord."


    "These rooms have been left to gather dust for far too long," Arlon continued. "The villa holds no valuables worth protecting in them. It''s better to use the space for the villagers than to let it go to waste."


    "As you command," Dimitri replied without hesitation, immediately turning to the maids. "Prepare the cleaning supplies and begin clearing the rooms. I''ll oversee the arrangements myself."


    The maids curtsied and hurried off to follow his instructions. Dimitri, with his usual efficiency, led the effort, ensuring everything proceeded smoothly. Arlon lingered for a moment, watching as the staff began their work before he turned on his heel and left the lobby.


    Arlon walked toward his room, intending to rest, but his feet carried him elsewhere. Instead of stopping at his chambers, he found himself heading toward the study.


    Step¡ªStep¡ª


    The room was quiet and dimly lit, the faint scent of old parchment filling the air. Arlon''s gaze drifted to the corner where the hidden compartment lay. His steps slowed as he approached, a faint sense of anticipation rising within him.


    Click¡ª


    The room was quiet¡ªtoo quiet. As Arlon stepped inside, his sharp eyes immediately landed on the desk where the book had been. His pulse quickened. The space was empty.


    He approached slowly, his boots making faint echoes on the cold stone floor. The faint layer of dust around the desk had been disturbed, streaked with the faint impression of fingers.


    His jaw tightened. Someone had been here.


    He crouched to inspect the lower shelves, his fingers brushing over the edges of the books. None of them matched the one he was searching for. Rising to his full height, Arlon''s mind raced. The symbols in that book could''ve held the answers he needed¡ªanswers that, in the wrong hands, might spell disaster.


    His fists clenched. "Whoever took it... will regret it."


    He immediately left the hidden room, closing the door behind him. His calm demeanor had shifted slightly, a hint of tension now evident in his movements as he walked out of the study.


    Whoever had taken the book would need to be found¡ªand soon.


    As Arlon walked through the dimly lit corridors toward his chamber, his thoughts lingered on the missing book.


    Who could have taken it? he wondered, his brows knitting in concentration. The first suspect that came to mind was Dimitri. But why would he take it now? he thought. Then again, it could have been someone else entirely.


    His pace slowed as his thoughts deepened. Arlon sifted through his memories, recalling the first time he had seen the book. The complete titles and symbols etched inside its pages flashed in his mind¡ªstrange, intricate marks that might have been an ancient language.


    He had read once in a historical record that certain languages had been lost after the war, pushed into obscurity by time. Could this book be tied to that lost history?


    Arlon''s curiosity grew with every step. He resolved to investigate further, piecing together what he could from memory until he had a clearer idea of its significance.


    Click¡ª


    When he pushed open the door to his chamber, he froze at the sight of Ace lounging on his bed. The sleek black cat was stretched out lazily, his red eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.


    "You look troubled," Ace said, his voice smooth and mildly amused. He didn''t bother to move, simply flicking his tail as if mocking Arlon''s tense demeanor.


    Arlon closed the door behind him and walked to his desk without replying. Opening the drawer, he retrieved a notebook and pen.


    "It''s about the book, isn''t it?" Ace continued, rolling onto his side to face him.


    As Arlon jotted notes on the symbols from memory, a faint prickle of awareness crept up his spine. He glanced at Ace, who lounged on the desk, red eyes gleaming with quiet amusement.


    The realization hit him: Ace wasn''t just a companion¡ªhe could sense Arlon''s thoughts. The bond between them ran deeper than he''d first understood.


    "You''re doing it again," Ace said suddenly, his tail flicking lazily.


    Arlon froze, pen hovering above the page. "Doing what?"


    "Overthinking," Ace replied with a sly grin. "I can feel it¡ªyour doubt, your frustration. It''s exhausting."


    Arlon scowled, shifting uncomfortably. He hated the idea of someone, even Ace, prying into his inner thoughts. "Can''t you stay out of my head?"


    Ace yawned, curling his tail around his paws. "Not when your emotions are this loud. You''re practically shouting."


    if Ace could read everything. The black cat didn''t know all of his private thoughts or plans. Only when Arlon was in trouble or under stress did Ace seem to pick up on his emotions, his state of mind.


    Just like earlier when I was in trouble to look for survivors in the village.


    It was as if Ace could feel the weight of his thoughts through some invisible thread.


    Arlon leaned back in his chair, his pen still in his hand. Why is that?


    Then it hit him. They both carried the power of the Sky Soul, that ancient and rare force that linked their fates together. Ace, as the Guardian, and Arlon, as the Host. It was a delicate balance of power. In a way, they were two halves of a whole. The connection between them wasn''t just physical¡ªit was spiritual, a bond formed by their shared power.


    It was no surprise that Ace could sense his unease, his thoughts when his emotions were high. The Guardian was attuned to the Host in ways Arlon hadn''t fully understood until now. The Sky Soul power created a link between them, a tether that allowed Ace to pick up on Arlon''s inner turmoil.


    Arlon flips the notebook open to a blank page. "It''s gone," he said simply, his tone calm but his jaw tight.


    Ace tilted his head. "Gone? Hm. Maybe it''s hiding."


    "Books don''t hide," Arlon said dryly, beginning to jot down notes. His pen scratched against the paper as he wrote, recording everything he could remember about the book¡ªthe symbols, their arrangement, even the faint scent of old parchment.


    Ace leapt gracefully off the bed and onto the desk, sitting beside the notebook. "Are you sure about that? Strange books like that one have a way of vanishing when they don''t want to be found."


    Arlon paused, glancing at the cat. "Are you suggesting the book disappeared on its own?"


    Ace licked his paw casually. "Not quite. But it''s more fun to imagine, isn''t it?"


    Arlon sighed and resumed writing. "If you''re not going to be helpful, at least stay out of my way."


    "Who says I''m not helping?" Ace purred, hopping onto the windowsill. "I''m just saying you shouldn''t rule out the possibility that someone¡ªor something¡ªwants that book more than you do."


    "..."


    Arlon didn''t respond. He continued to write, his focus returning to the page. In the corner of his eye, he saw Ace settle on the windowsill, watching him with an unreadable expression.


    I had this feeling that it''s better to keep on track than getting distracted.


    When Arlon finished writing, he leaned back in his chair, tapping the quill against the edge of the desk as his thoughts wandered. His gaze drifted to the faint glow of the lamp, the flickering light mirroring the ideas stirring in his mind.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    What should I do next?


    As the silence of the room wrapped around him, a memory surfaced¡ªhe had a box of healing mana stones stored away, powerful enough to assist Alice and Anthony in healing the villagers. His eyes lit up with determination.


    Rising from his chair, Arlon crossed the room with purpose, his footsteps muffled by the plush rug beneath him. He approached a sturdy cabinet nestled against the far wall. The smooth wood bore intricate carvings, a testament to its craftsmanship, but Arlon barely spared it a glance as he pulled open the doors.


    Inside the cabinet, shelves were lined with rare and intricate objects: glass vials filled with herbs, arcane tools crafted from mana steel, and neatly rolled scrolls yellowed with age. Arlon''s fingers paused on a small wooden chest tucked into the corner.


    He carefully lifted the chest, its brass edges cool beneath his fingertips, and placed it on the table. When he opened the lid, a faint light spilled out, illuminating the room in shades of blue and green.


    The mana stones inside shimmered, their surfaces smooth and crystalline, pulsing gently with a quiet energy. Arlon let out a breath as he ran his thumb over the largest stone, its glow steady and reassuring. Healing mana stones were rare, their restorative power capable of saving lives when used correctly.


    "Perfect," he murmured. Closing the lid, Arlon turned with renewed determination.


    "Dimitri, take these to Alice and Anthony. Tell them to use them on the injured villagers¡ªthey''ll be far more effective than burning through their own mana reserves."


    Click¡ª


    Just then, Dimitri entered, only to halt in his tracks at the sight of Arlon, still in his dusty, battle-stained clothes. He let out a sigh of exasperation. "My lord, you haven''t changed or even bathed yet?"


    Arlon glanced up briefly as he handed the box of mana stones to Dimitri, his expression calm and composed. "Take this to Alice and Anthony," he instructed, his voice steady but purposeful. "Tell them to use these to heal the villagers. It''ll be far better than exhausting their own energy."


    "And," Arlon continued, his gaze sharp as he added, "if they require anything else, tell them they can ask the maids or come directly to you."


    Dimitri took the box from him with a nod of approval, the faint glint of his glasses catching the light. "I will see to it that they receive these immediately.But please, take a bath and clean up¡ªI''ll bring you some tea and snacks once you''re finished."


    With that, Dimitri turned and left the room, moving with the precision and grace of someone long accustomed to carrying out his lord''s orders without delay.


    Arlon sighed, finally peeling off his grimy robe and clothes before heading into the bathroom.


    Meanwhile, Ace, settled gracefully on the windowsill, observed the room with a curious gleam in his sharp red eyes. His attention was caught back by a piece of paper lying on the desk¡ªa piece of paper Arlon had been working on earlier.


    Intrigued, Ace tilted his head and leaned closer, his whiskers twitching as he attempted to decipher the unfamiliar writing.


    The black cat''s gaze narrowed in concentration. I know this language... or at least, it feels familiar. But why can''t I place it?. Frustration flickered in Ace''s crimson eyes as he flicked his tail, unable to make sense of the text.


    Moments later, Arlon stepped back into the room, freshly dressed in a simple yet elegant outfit. His hair, still slightly damp, framed his face as his sharp purple eyes under his mask immediately caught sight of Ace, who was now sprawled on the desk, scrutinizing the notes.


    "What are you doing, Ace?" Arlon asked, his tone somewhere between curiosity and mild exasperation.


    Ace flicked his tail and glanced over his shoulder. "Just trying to make sense of this gibberish you''ve written," he replied nonchalantly. "It feels familiar, but I can''t quite remember what it is."


    Arlon raised an eyebrow as he walked over and retrieved the paper. "You don''t recognize it?"


    Ace shook his head, his ears twitching. "No, but I know it''s an old language. I''ve seen it before¡ªjust don''t ask me when or where."


    "Do you know any old languages?" Arlon pressed, setting the paper back on the desk.


    "Some," Ace admitted, sitting upright now. "But not all of them. This one''s strange¡ªlike it''s on the tip of my tongue, but I can''t recall it fully."


    Arlon hummed in thought, his hand resting on his chin. "Then maybe I can try translating it step by step," he mused aloud. "From one old language to another, until I can match it to Velican."


    Turning towards the bookshelf, Arlon reached for a tome on linguistic history, his fingers brushing against its well-worn spine. Just as he pulled it out, there was a soft knock on the door


    Dimitri entered with impeccable timing, balancing a silver tray laden with a teapot, porcelain cups, and an assortment of light snacks.


    "Here you are, my lord," Dimitri said, setting the tray on a small table near the window. "I trust you''ve finally refreshed yourself?"


    "Yes, thank you, Dimitri," Arlon replied, his voice steady, though his thoughts were elsewhere. The strange book lingered in his mind, tempting him to look deeper into this mystery. But as he lifted the teacup to his lips, the taste hit him, yanking him out of his musings.


    I almost forgot this tea even existed.


    Arlon took a cautious sip of the tea and immediately regretted it. The bitter, earthy flavor hit his tongue like a slap, the aftertaste lingering unpleasantly. He set the cup down slowly, resisting the urge to grimace.


    "Dimitri," he began carefully, "this tea is... unique."


    Dimitri''s face lit up with pride. "I brewed it myself, my lord, just the way you like it."


    Ace let out a low chuckle. "Unique isn''t the word I''d use. You look like you''ve just swallowed a handful of dirt." he teased, nudging Arlon''s elbow.


    Arlon sighed, forcing a calm expression as he reached for a pastry to chase away the taste. "It''s fine," he muttered. "It''s... an acquired taste."


    Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to take another sip, swallowing hard.


    Arlon delicately picked up a pastry, using it to chase away the taste of the tea, maintaining his noble fa?ade as best he could. He caught Dimitri''s glance lingering on Ace, whose red eyes and calm, feline posture were impossible to ignore.


    "By the way, my lord, why do you have a black cat with you?" Dimitri asked, looking at Ace with a hint of suspicion.


    Arlon set the pastry down and leaned back in his chair, deciding it was time to let Dimitri in on at least part of what had transpired. "Since you''re here, I suppose it''s a good time to fill you in on the rest of what I started explaining earlier," he said with a casual wave of his hand.


    Dimitri raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "What do you mean, my lord?"


    Arlon met his gaze evenly. "We both know the Pry members came here to get me to join their little cult, hoping I''d hand over the Soul Sky Guardian in the process." He paused, picking up another pastry with an air of calm. "I don''t trust them, Dimitri. They''re not exactly known for their... goodwill."


    Dimitri nodded in agreement, his eyes narrowing. "Yes, of course, my lord. They''re dangerous."


    Arlon leaned in, dropping his voice as if sharing a scandalous secret. "So¡­ I decided to beat them to it," he said with a faint, mischievous smile. "I got the Soul Sky Guardian myself."


    "..."


    The silence that followed was thick with shock as Dimitri''s jaw practically dropped, his composure slipping as the realization struck him. "You¡­ you actually did it. You claimed the Soul Sky Guardian?" His voice wavered between disbelief and awe.


    Arlon gave a nonchalant nod, trying to hold back a smirk as he basked in Dimitri''s reaction. "It wasn''t easy, but yes," he replied, aiming for an air of practiced ease. "Now," he said, gesturing to Ace, "I have the guardian with me."


    "..."


    Dimitri blinked several times, trying to absorb the information. His mouth opened as if to say something, but no words came out. Finally, he managed, "You truly are your father''s son," Dimitri murmured, his voice soft with reverence.


    "...?"


    "This power¡­ it will draw enemies, my lord. You must be careful."


    "That''s the plan," Arlon replied, though his faint smirk hinted at his lingering unease


    "Let''s just say," he said, glancing back at Dimitri, "things are about to get a lot more interesting."


    "..."


    Arlon couldn''t help but grin at Dimitri''s stunned expression, his usual calm demeanor temporarily shattered. As Dimitri continued to gape, Arlon decided it was time to address Ace properly¡ªafter all, Dimitri hadn''t even been formally introduced to the mysterious feline.


    "Ah, yes," Arlon said with a teasing glint in his eyes, setting his cup down. "I suppose I should formally introduce you two."


    He turned to Ace, who was lazily lounging on the edge of the chair, giving Dimitri an unimpressed glance. "Dimitri," Arlon began with a smirk, "This is Ace, my... well, companion." He hesitated for a moment, enjoying the look of confusion on Dimitri''s face. "Though, right now, he''s in the form of a cat."


    Ace flicked his tail in annoyance at the way Arlon emphasized the "cat" part, his red eyes narrowing. "I''m not just a cat," he muttered, almost defensively. "I''m an incredibly powerful being who''s been forced into this form by circumstances beyond my control." He added, puffing his chest out, "But for now, I suppose I can tolerate this."


    Dimitri raised an eyebrow, momentarily taken aback by Ace''s sudden retort.


    Arlon chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter. "Oh, don''t mind him, Dimitri," he said with a wink. "He might act like he''s above all this, but he''s quite the noble creature... even if he''s stuck in a cat''s body."


    Dimitri, still recovering from the shock of the Soul Sky Guardian news, now turned his attention to the cat with a skeptical look. "A powerful being... in a cat''s body?" He repeated, clearly unsure if he''d heard correctly.


    Ace, sensing Dimitri''s skepticism, gave a dramatic sigh. "Yes, yes. The things I endure. Imagine being stuck in such a small form," he said with exaggerated grief. "I''ll have to get used to it, I suppose."


    Arlon couldn''t resist. "I think you wear it well, Ace. You''re almost too cute for your own good." He grinned, clearly teasing his companion.


    Ace shot him a narrow-eyed glare but said nothing. Instead, he leapt off the chair and curled up on the armrest, looking rather pleased with himself. "If you say so," he murmured, clearly playing along with the teasing.


    Dimitri watched the entire exchange with a mix of disbelief and bewilderment, his mouth slightly agape as he tried to piece together what he''d just learned. "I... I see," he said, his voice shaky with the absurdity of it all. "So, this cat is... Ace"


    Arlon nodded, his tone light. "Yes, this cat," he said with a grin. "The same Ace who''s been with me for quite some time. Though, I do have to warn you, Dimitri¡ªhe can be a little... temperamental."


    Ace''s ears twitched in annoyance, but he said nothing, preferring to let Arlon have the final word in the conversation.


    Dimitri''s expression shifted from confusion to a tentative smile. "I see," he said again, though it was clear he was still trying to process everything. "Well, it''s a pleasure to meet you... Ace."


    Ace lazily opened one eye, flicking his tail in acknowledgment. "The pleasure''s mine, human," he said with a drawl, as though he had all the time in the world to humor this interaction.


    Arlon chuckled at the exchange. "Alright, enough introductions for now," he said, his smile fading slightly as he became more serious. "There are other matters we need to discuss. But first, Dimitri, I think we should go over the details of the next steps.He can''t be seen by anyone else. Things are... complicated."


    Dimitri nodded, now trying to focus as he came to terms with the strange world he''d stepped into. "Understood, my lord," he said, straightening up. "I''ll make sure everything is in order."


    As Dimitri left the room to attend to his tasks, Arlon turned his attention back to Ace, who had finally curled up comfortably in his usual spot.


    "Are you sure you''re okay with this?" Arlon asked quietly, his eyes narrowing. "I know it''s a bit much, being in a cat form and all."


    Ace opened one eye lazily. "It''s not ideal," he said, stretching his limbs before settling back down. "But I''ll endure it. For now."

 Chapter 11: A Noble鈥檚 Resolve

    Arlon chuckled, then returned his focus to the task at hand. The storm was far from over, and he knew this was just the beginning of a much larger conflict ahead.


    Arlon tapped the edge of this sit and gaze the paper on the desk thoughtfully, his thoughts lingering on the cryptic symbols he had been attempting to decipher. With a sigh, he straightened and glanced at Ace, who was perched on the table, tail swaying lazily.


    "Let''s resume translating tomorrow, I might need your help with it."


    Ace tilted his head, his crimson eyes narrowing as if weighing the request. "My help? Are you sure? I''m not exactly fluent in ancient gibberish," he replied, his tone laced with playful sarcasm.


    Arlon chuckled softly. "You recognized parts of it earlier. That''s more than most could manage. Besides, I think your memory might surprise you."


    Ace purred, a sound that was equal parts smug and amused. "Flattery will get you everywhere,noble Arlon. Fine, I''ll help¡ªbut only if you promise to reward me with extra snacks afterward."


    "Deal," Arlon replied with a faint smile. He gathered the papers and carefully tucked them away in a drawer. "For now, though, let''s call it a night."


    Ace hopped off the table and stretched, his claws briefly scratching against the floor. "Fair enough. You look like you could use some rest anyway. Don''t forget¡ªbrains work better after sleep."


    Shaking his head in mild amusement,Arlon stood up, stretching as he prepared for bed. With a practiced motion, he reached up and removed the mask that had become a part of his daily life. Placing it on the desk nearby, he let out a soft sigh.


    As he lay down on the bed, the rustle of sheets broke the quiet. Ace, who had been observing him with his ever-curious red eyes, padded over and leapt up onto the bed. The sleek black cat settled comfortably beside him, tail curling lazily.


    "Why do you even wear that mask?" Ace''s voice was casual, but his piercing gaze betrayed genuine curiosity.


    Arlon turned his head slightly, meeting the cat''s eyes. He considered dodging the question, but the bond they shared made it feel pointless. With a deep breath, he answered honestly.


    "I''m pretending," he said quietly. "Pretending that I''ve awakened a cursed gift. That I have the ability to curse someone just by looking at them."


    Ace blinked, his tail flicking once. "You''re pretending?"


    "Yes." Arlon''s tone was calm, almost resigned. "People fear what they don''t understand. If they think I can''t control my supposed ''ability,'' they''re less likely to challenge me. The mask makes it believable. It''s a tool, nothing more."


    Ace tilted his head, his ears twitching. "So, you''re telling me you''ve been acting this whole time? Not bad, I must admit." He gave a low purr, then asked, "But don''t you get tired of it?"


    Arlon chuckled faintly, his gaze drifting to the ceiling. "Of course I do. But it''s necessary."


    Ace''s tail tapped the bed as he processed this, and then, as if unable to resist, he asked another question. "What if someone finds out? What then?"


    "I''ll deal with it when the time comes," Arlon replied simply, his tone steady.


    Satisfied for a moment, Ace lay his head on his paws. But only a moment passed before his voice broke the silence again. "And how do you feel about¡ª"


    Arlon groaned softly, turning to face him. "Ace, do you ever stop asking questions?"


    The cat''s whiskers twitched in amusement. "I''m just trying to understand. You''re more interesting than most humans, after all."


    Ace continued, firing off question after question¡ªabout the mask, Dimitri, the Throndsen family, and the strange choices Arlon had made since they met.


    "You ask too many questions for a cat," Arlon said, shaking his head, though a faint smile tugged at his lips.


    "I could stop," Ace replied, his crimson eyes narrowing. "But why would I? You''re far more complicated than most humans I''ve met. It''s almost fun."


    Arlon''s smile faltered slightly as he leaned back into the pillows. "If you think I''m complicated now, you''d be even more curious about the real Throndsen heir. That mask? It''s nothing compared to what''s underneath."


    Ace flicked his tail, studying him. "I''ll find out eventually," he murmured, his voice quiet but assured.


    Arlon sighed and turned to face the ceiling. The moonlight filtered through the window, washing the room in silver. "This is going to be a long night," he muttered, already resigned to the endless stream of questions.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª


    The sun had only just begun to rise, casting a gentle glow over the estate as it stirred to life. Dimitri moved with quiet efficiency, orchestrating the morning''s preparations. He oversaw the maids arranging breakfast in the grand hall, giving quick nods of approval as they arranged platters and poured fresh tea.


    Servants bustled about, tidying up after the previous evening''s events, while outside, villagers gathered with hopeful determination, ready to return to their lands and begin rebuilding.


    In the midst of this activity, a guard approached, pausing respectfully before Dimitri. With a slight bow, the guard extended a sealed envelope. "Sir, a letter from the Grand Duchy for the Lord," he reported, his voice steady.


    Dimitri accepted the letter, inclining his head in thanks. He studied the insignia pressed into the wax seal, a familiar mark of authority. Dimitri''s expression remained unreadable, though his grip on the letter tightened ever so slightly, as if he could already sense the weight of its contents.


    Meanwhile, Arlon and Ace were enjoying a late breakfast in a quiet room. Arlon was in the middle of explaining the details of the Celestial Clan history and the Pry members to Ace. The conversation was intense, and Ace seemed particularly curious, firing off questions that kept Arlon awake until late the previous night.


    As they were talking, the door creaked open, and Alice entered with the gray wolf boy by her side.


    Arlon looked up and gestured for them to join. "Come, sit with us," he invited, motioning to the empty seats. "We could use some more company to wake us up."


    Alice shook her head with a polite smile. "We''ve already had breakfast, but thank you," she replied, a hint of amusement flickering in her eyes as she took in their groggy expressions. "I take it you both had a late night?"


    Ace let out a small laugh, rubbing his tired eyes. "You could say that. Turns out Arlon knows a ridiculous amount about ancient clans and curses. I just wanted a few answers, but he practically gave me a whole history lesson."


    Arlon shot him a mock glare. "If you hadn''t kept asking questions, we might have actually gotten some sleep."


    Alice chuckled, then turned to Arlon, her tone softening. "Well, I won''t keep you. I actually just wanted to thank you for the mana stones you gave us last night," she said. "They were invaluable in treating the villagers. Anthony and I were able to do a lot of good with them."


    Arlon nodded, pleased. "I''m glad they were helpful. How is everyone recovering?"


    "Most are doing well," Alice replied, though a note of concern entered her voice. "Though Eric¡­ because he''s a gray wolf, the mana stones don''t work on him quite the same way. Thankfully, his injuries aren''t too severe, so he should recover with some rest."


    Arlon''s face softened with understanding. "I''m sorry we couldn''t do more for him specifically," he said. "If there''s anything else you need, let me know."


    Alice offered a small smile. "Thank you. Honestly, just your support has been a great help. We''ll manage the rest, but you two should make sure to get some proper rest as well."Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Ace let out a groan. "If only I could keep my curiosity under control."


    Arlon laughed. "Lesson learned, then. We''ll make sure to cut off the questions next time¡­ hopefully."


    The wolf boy walked forward shyly, his gray hair and wolf-like ears and tail standing out, with red eyes peering up at Arlon.


    The wolf boy walked forward shyly, his gray hair and wolf-like ears and tail standing out, with golden eyes peering up at Arlon.


    He was dressed neatly, though his arms and legs were wrapped in bandages. He hesitated for a moment, then spoke up in a soft voice.


    "Um¡­ Hello, Master Arlon," he said, bowing his head respectfully. Eric''s small hands trembled as he clutched the hem of his bandaged arm.


    "My name is Eric. Thank you for saving me from that evil mage. I was so scared¡­ "I¡­ I thought he''d take me too. Like the others. I was so scared." His voice wavered, the words barely audible.


    Alice stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on Eric''s shoulder. "Eric''s been wanting to meet you since he woke up," she explained. "I suggested he rest, but he was determined to thank you personally."


    Arlon smiled gently at the young wolf. "There''s no need to thank me, Eric," he said kindly. "I''m just glad you''re safe. You should be thanking Alice and Anthony as well¡ªthey''re the ones who came to me for help. We couldn''t have done this without them."


    I''m not used to this kind of gratitude. The original Arlon wouldn''t have cared about any of this. But if I can make even a small difference, maybe this life doesn''t have to follow the same path.


    Eric looked over at Alice, his yellow eyes full of gratitude. "Thank you, Miss Alice. And Master Arlon¡­ I owe you my life. I was sure¡­ I''d end up like the others." His voice wavered, and his ears drooped slightly, recalling the trauma he''d faced.


    Alice gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You''re safe now, Eric. We''ll make sure of it."


    Ace, who had been silently observing from his spot on the table, flicked his tail, catching Eric''s eye. "Don''t forget, kid, there''s more than just people around here looking out for you," he said with a smirk.


    Eric''s eyes widened as he took in the talking cat, his initial fear melting into fascination. "You''re¡­ you''re the Soul Guardian, right?" he asked, his voice filled with awe.


    Ace puffed up proudly. "The one and only. But don''t get too attached. I''m not here to babysit."


    Arlon chuckled at Ace''s usual gruffness. "He may act tough, but he''s not as scary as he seems," he assured Eric, leaning forward to ruffle the boy''s hair. "We''re all on the same side here."


    Eric gave a small, shy smile, looking between Arlon, Alice, and Ace. For the first time, he seemed to relax, sensing he was truly safe among friends.


    After a few moments, Alice spoke up. "We should probably let you get some rest, Master Arlon. Eric, I''ll take you to meet Anthony. He''s been asking how you''re doing, too."


    Eric nodded, but as they turned to leave, he hesitated and looked back at Arlon. "I want to¡­ I want to grow strong, like you, Master Arlon. So I can protect people too."


    Arlon felt a warmth in his chest at the boy''s earnest words. "You''ve got a brave heart, Eric. And if you keep that spirit, I have no doubt you''ll grow strong someday."


    With a final nod, Eric followed Alice out, leaving Arlon and Ace alone once more. Ace glanced up at Arlon, an uncharacteristic softness in his eyes. "You know, you didn''t have to make that kid''s day."


    Arlon shrugged, feeling a strange sense of purpose he hadn''t before. "Maybe not. But if I can give him a little hope, maybe that''s enough for now."


    After Alice and Eric left, Arlon sank back into his chair, letting out a long sigh. He glanced at Ace, who was now stretched out lazily on the table, his red eyes half-lidded but observant.


    "So," Ace began, his tone teasing, "you''re really getting the hang of this ''noble protector'' role, aren''t you?"


    Great, even the cat''s starting to notice.


    Arlon rolled his eyes but couldn''t help smirking. "I''m just trying to do what needs to be done. Don''t get used to it."


    Ace flicked his tail. "Oh, trust me, I won''t. But you''ve got to admit, you''re getting pretty good at it." He raised his paw as if to high-five, then quickly retracted it. "Not that I''d ever compliment you seriously."


    Arlon chuckled, reaching for his tea¡ªonly to remember its less-than-pleasant taste from yesterday. He set it down, eyeing Ace. "Anyway, you owe me for keeping me up all night with those questions."


    "Just keeping you sharp, ''my Lord,''" Ace replied with a smirk. He leaped from the table to the windowsill, glancing outside as the morning sun cast its warm glow over the gardens. "Looks like another busy day for our little house of refuge here."


    Arlon followed his gaze. The courtyard below was bustling with villagers who had come to help rebuild their community. They were smiling, working together, and offering each other encouragement¡ªa rare sight that lifted his spirits.


    Knock¡ª Knock


    Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Dimitri entered, carrying a stack of documents and a slightly flustered look. "My lord, I''ve compiled the list of supplies we''ll need for the rebuilding efforts," he said, setting the papers on the table.


    "Good work, Dimitri," Arlon replied, nodding appreciatively. "Have we heard any news about other attacks or Pry members in the area?"


    "Not yet, but I''m keeping an ear to the ground. Our network will alert us if they catch any whispers," Dimitri assured him. Then, casting a suspicious glance at Ace, he added, "Are you sure that¡­ creature won''t cause trouble?"


    Ace scoffed. "''Creature''? Please, I''m the reason you''re even standing here in one piece."


    Arlon laughed, patting Ace on the head to defuse the tension. "Ace is here to help, Dimitri. Strange as it may seem, he''s one of the best allies we could ask for."


    Dimitri sighed, clearly not convinced but unwilling to argue. "As you say, my lord. Just be cautious."


    Just as Dimitri was about to leave, he paused, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a finely sealed envelope. "My lord," he said, holding it out with a solemn expression. "This arrived this morning. It''s a summons from the Duchess¡ªshe requests your presence back at the estate for an important meeting with the nobles who support the family."


    Arlon''s hand paused just as he was about to reach for the letter, a surge of recognition jolting through him.


    The moment Arlon saw the seal, a chill ran down his spine. His grip tightened around the letter as his mind pulled him back to a memory he hadn''t lived¡ªbut one he remembered too well.


    He could see it now: the crowded council room, the sneers of the nobles as they hurled insults like daggers, their words cutting deeper than any blade. Incompetent. Childish. A fool unworthy of his name. He remembered the original Arlon''s fists clenching, his voice shaking as he tried and failed to defend himself. The laughter still echoed in his ears.


    Arlon exhaled slowly, grounding himself in the present. His fingers brushed the edges of the letter as he reminded himself: This time, I know better. I''m not that boy. Not anymore.


    He took a deep breath, a determined gleam in his eyes as he looked up at Dimitri. "Thank you, Dimitri. I''ll read it in detail, but for now, prepare for our departure."


    Dimitri nodded, his eyes sharp as he observed the shift in Arlon''s expression. "Of course, my lord. I''ll have everything ready for you by tomorrow morning."


    Once Dimitri had left the room, Arlon opened the letter, scanning the formal words of the summons with a calm resolve. This time, he thought, the nobles wouldn''t find the timid, short-tempered young lord they expected.


    No, he would show them a different Arlon¡ªone who wouldn''t be so easily baited or intimidated.


    As he folded the letter, a smirk crossed his face. "They want a meeting? Then let''s give them a performance they''ll never forget."


    Ace stretched lazily on the table, watching him with a hint of amusement. "So¡­ we''re going to pay the nobles a visit, are we?"


    "Yes," Arlon replied, his voice filled with purpose. "And this time, I''ll be ready for them."


    The two shared a peaceful silence, the tension of the previous days gradually melting away. The aroma of freshly baked pastries and warm sunlight filled the room, mingling with the quiet sounds of the estate.


    Ace sat comfortably on a cushion, his tail curled around his paws. The black cat''s eyes gleamed as he took small, delicate bites of a piece of fish from the tray. His red eyes never left Arlon, who was carefully cutting a croissant, taking his time to savor each bite.


    Ace, as usual, was curious about every little detail of Arlon''s life, but for now, even the cat seemed content with the calm atmosphere.


    "You know," Ace began between bites, his voice soft and almost casual, "you have a strange way of eating for someone with... all that power."


    Arlon glanced at the cat, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Is that so?" he replied, taking another bite. "I don''t think there''s anything strange about enjoying a simple breakfast."


    Ace flicked his tail in amusement. "I suppose not. But you could at least eat faster¡ªdon''t want to waste all that time when you''re busy with more important matters, right?"


    Arlon chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "Not everything has to be rushed, Ace. Sometimes it''s the little things¡ªlike this breakfast¡ªthat make the day worthwhile."


    Ace gave a soft, almost inaudible huff, settling down further. "Maybe. But I still think you could speed up a little."


    "Maybe later," Arlon said, his tone affectionate as he reached for another pastry, and Ace immediately perked up, his eyes narrowing in a playful challenge. "What? You want some of this too?"


    Ace didn''t respond with words, but the way he stared at the pastry¡ªhis eyes fixed and intense¡ªwas answer enough.


    Does he even realize how obvious he''s being?


    Arlon laughed again, shaking his head. "Alright, alright. You''re worse than a spoiled child."


    Ace flicked his tail in mock annoyance. "I''m not spoiled, I just know what''s worth enjoying."


    Arlon smiled as he handed the cat a small piece of pastry. "I suppose you do. We both know how to appreciate the good things."


    And for a while, the two of them simply sat there¡ªenjoying the quiet, their bond unspoken but felt all the same.


    After finishing breakfast, Arlon stood up from the table, his thoughts already turning toward the day''s duties. There was something soothing about the rhythm of sword training, and he knew it was time to carry on with his daily routine. He had to keep his skills sharp¡ªboth for the sake of his duties and for the unpredictable nature of the world he now found himself in.


    He made his way to the training ground, the familiar sounds of the estate falling behind him as he walked. The air was crisp, and the morning sun cast long shadows across the field. The training ground was quiet, save for the faint rustling of leaves and the soft clang of metal that occasionally echoed from the nearby armory.


    As he neared the dummies set up for practice, he noticed someone standing near them. It was Lawrence, holding a wooden sword in his hands. His posture was stiff, and he was staring at the dummies as if trying to decide whether to strike them or not. Arlon could see the hesitation in the way Lawrence held the sword, the uncertainty in his stance.


    Lawrence stood stiffly by the dummies, gripping the wooden sword in his hands as if it might slip away. His eyes darted toward the edges of the training ground, lingering on the villa''s towering walls. Every movement seemed hesitant¡ªan awkward shift of his feet, a quick glance over his shoulder, as though expecting someone to tell him he didn''t belong.


    Arlon approached quietly, his steps deliberate but light. "You''re up early, Lawrence," he said, his voice breaking the stillness. "Planning to train as well?"

 Chapter 12: The Weight of Loyalty

    "..!"


    Lawrence flinched at Arlon''s approach, his grip tightening on the wooden sword. His wide-eyed surprise betrayed his unease. Despite his capable demeanor during the Pry attack, he still wrestled with the strange new dynamic here¡ªuncertain of how to address a man who had so easily stepped into authority over this place.


    The man who had once been a stranger to him now seemed like a figure of authority, someone who commanded the space with an effortless air of power. It was a challenge for Lawrence, who had spent much of his life learning to be independent and strong on his own terms.


    "I¡ªuh¡ªI wasn''t sure if¡­ if it was alright for me to train here," Lawrence stammered, his words tumbling out in an almost nervous blur. He gripped the wooden sword tighter, as if it would help calm his nerves. "I didn''t want to overstep, seeing as this isn''t really¡­ my place."


    Arlon raised an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He could tell Lawrence was feeling more than a little uncomfortable, and it reminded him of his earlier days¡ªof when he was the one unsure of his role in someone else''s world.


    "Don''t worry about overstepping," Arlon said with an easy smile, his tone cutting through Lawrence''s hesitation. "This is your home for now. You''re free to train whenever you''d like." His words carried an effortless confidence, putting just enough weight behind the offer to make it sound genuine.


    "..."


    Lawrence blinked at the words, still unsure how to react to the casual, almost nonchalant way Arlon spoke. It didn''t quite match the air of formality that he had initially expected from the man who had been thrust into the role of heir and leader of the villa. There was a sense of warmth to Arlon that caught Lawrence off guard.


    "Go ahead, Lawrence. I''m sure we can both use the practice," Arlon said, giving him a reassuring nod.


    Lawrence''s anxiety didn''t fully subside, but he at least seemed more relaxed now. He nodded stiffly, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Right¡­ I¡ªthank you."


    Arlon''s gaze shifted to the wooden training swords in their hands and the dummies ahead. "I see you''re using the wooden sword. You can practice your form with that for now, but if you want, we can step it up once you''re comfortable."


    Lawrence gave a quick nod, trying to shake off the awkwardness. "I''ll stick to the wooden sword for now, if that''s alright," he replied, his voice still a bit hesitant. He wasn''t quite ready to push his limits yet, but he also didn''t want to appear weak.


    Arlon smiled again, this time a bit more genuinely. "That''s good. You''ve got to build the foundation before you can move to more advanced things." He stepped back slightly, giving Lawrence space. "I''ll be here if you need a sparring partner."


    Lawrence, though still unsure, felt a slight weight lift off his shoulders. The pressure he had been feeling seemed to ease just a little as he began to focus on the task at hand. He raised his sword in a defensive stance, glancing over at Arlon to gauge his reaction.


    Arlon, with his usual calm demeanor, leaned casually against one of the wooden posts nearby, his arms crossed as he observed Lawrence.


    The younger man''s movements were sharp but lacked the refinement of someone with consistent training. Arlon saw potential, raw talent waiting to be shaped.


    Though Lawrence had already proven his abilities¡ªprotecting the village and defeating a powerful half-blood curse mage¡ªhe couldn''t yet see the value of his achievements, thinking he was still improving.


    He underestimated his own confidence.


    While not yet a master, Lawrence had the potential to become a skilled fighter with time, just like in the novel. He would grow stronger, but never invincible. Strength came from balance¡ªskill, experience, and the will to push beyond limits. That would come with time.


    "Don''t worry," Arlon called out, his voice light. "We all start somewhere."


    Lawrence''s lips twitched into a small, awkward smile at that, his shoulders relaxing a bit more. He could feel the faintest hint of camaraderie beginning to grow between them¡ªsomething he hadn''t expected when he first arrived.


    And so, with each swing of their swords, the two trained in the morning sun, the unspoken tension between them slowly dissipating, even as Arlon''s mind kept turning over the day''s tasks and challenges.


    When they concluded their session, Lawrence lowered his sword, beads of sweat glistening on his brow. He hesitated briefly before saying, "I''ll head to the forest and help the villagers collect wood for rebuilding their homes."


    Arlon wiped his own forehead with a cloth and nodded. "That''s a good idea, but don''t overexert yourself. It''s not your responsibility to shoulder everything alone. Ask for help if you need it."


    Lawrence blinked, slightly surprised at the concern, then offered a small, appreciative smile. "I will. Thank you." With a respectful nod, he turned and made his way toward the forest.


    Arlon watched him leave for a moment, then turned toward the villa. He decided to head to the study room to continue his work, but as he walked through the quiet halls, a flicker of golden light caught his eye.


    Arlon paused for a moment, his curiosity piqued. What was that? he thought, his gaze following the flicker of light.


    The light seeped through the slight gap of a partially open door. Pausing, Arlon frowned and approached, peering inside.


    Through the crack, he saw Alice standing in the middle of the room, her hands glowing faintly as she held a used mana stone. The golden energy swirled around her fingers, but each time she tried to channel it into the stone, the light sputtered out, leaving the mana stone unchanged.


    "You''re wasting your time," Dimitri''s cool, composed voice came from somewhere inside the room. He stood nearby, arms crossed, his piercing green eyes fixed on Alice.


    "Restoration of a used mana stone is a theory at best¡ªan unproven one, at that. You''ll achieve nothing but exhausting yourself."


    Alice''s lips pressed into a firm line, determination lighting her features. "It''s still worth trying. Just because it''s a theory doesn''t mean it''s impossible. If I can get it to work, it could save so many resources and help the villagers or the other mages."


    Dimitri sighed, his stern tone softening just slightly. "Your determination is admirable," he admitted. "But even a Blessed Mage like yourself has limits. Don''t let your ambition blind you to them."


    The exchange between them intrigued Arlon. Despite Dimitri''s usual cold and reserved demeanor, he seemed genuinely invested in Alice''s efforts, even if his concern was cloaked in his usual stoicism. Their shared status as Blessed Mages appeared to foster an understanding between them.


    Arlon decided it was time to intervene. Pushing the door open, he stepped into the room. Both Alice and Dimitri turned to him, their conversation halting mid-sentence.


    "Interesting experiment," Arlon said calmly, his gaze shifting from Alice''s determined expression to the mana stone in her hand. "But Dimitri''s right¡ªoverexerting yourself won''t help anyone."


    Alice flushed, lowering her hands but keeping the mana stone cradled between her fingers. "Even if it''s a long shot," she argued quietly, determination gleaming in her eyes, "isn''t it worth trying? If there''s even a small chance to make it work, it could help so many people."


    Arlon nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "It is. But even experiments need balance and rest. If this method fails, we can always explore alternatives together. No need to tackle it alone."


    Dimitri inclined his head slightly, a rare flicker of approval crossing his face. "Wise words."


    Alice sighed, reluctantly setting the mana stone on the nearby table. "Fine. I''ll take a break for now."The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    "Good," Arlon replied. "There''s plenty of work to be done, but it''s best if we approach it all with clear minds and steady hands. Let''s revisit this idea later."


    Both Alice and Dimitri nodded in agreement with Arlon''s words. Shortly after, Dimitri excused himself, saying, "I''ll fetch some snacks to keep our energy up," before leaving the room with his usual composed demeanor.


    As the door closed behind him, Arlon turned to Alice. "So, if this theory about restoring used mana stones turns out to be true, what would it actually accomplish?"


    Alice leaned forward, her green eyes practically glowing with excitement. "Restoring mana stones would let mages manage their power more effectively. Imagine being able to recharge a used stone instead of exhausting yourself during emergencies. It would revolutionize how we approach spellcasting in critical moments."


    She paused, her expression turning somber. "But mana stones have become increasingly rare these days. That''s why many mages are desperate to find a solution like this, even if it''s based on an unproven theory."


    Arlon leaned back, arms crossed, his gaze thoughtful. The concept struck a chord, reminding him of something familiar from his past life. "It''s like a¡­ rechargeable battery," he murmured, more to himself than to Alice.


    "A¡­ battery?" Alice echoed, her brows knitting in confusion. "What''s that?"


    Arlon waved it off with a faint smile. "Never mind¡ªjust an old idea. The comparison isn''t important."


    "What''s important is that it''s a tool that could be incredibly useful in emergencies, even if it only works temporarily."


    Alice''s eyes lit up, her voice gaining momentum. "Exactly! If we can figure this out, it could change everything. Mages wouldn''t have to burn through their reserves so quickly¡ªwe''d finally have a way to share the burden when spells are needed most."


    Arlon''s gaze shifted toward the mana stone sitting on the table. "And how does the theory suggest restoring a used mana stone?"


    "It says that you need to channel your magical energy directly into the stone," Alice explained. "The idea is to recharge the mana stone with your power, but no one''s been able to succeed. Every attempt so far has failed, leading most mages to dismiss the theory as a lie or incomplete."


    Arlon rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm¡­ if so many have tried and failed, maybe it''s not the theory itself that''s wrong, but how it''s being applied. ''Channeling your energy directly into it'' might not be the full story."


    Alice frowned, considering his words. "What do you mean?"


    "Think about it," Arlon began, his tone measured. "What if the theory isn''t wrong, but it''s incomplete? Channeling energy might not be enough. Maybe it requires aligning the mana flow in a precise way¡ªor pairing it with something else entirely. Something the theory didn''t account for"


    Alice''s eyes widened. "That¡­ actually makes sense. Maybe I''ve been going about this the wrong way."


    Arlon picked up a used mana stone in one hand and a regular, pristine mana stone in the other. He studied them carefully, his brows furrowing in thought. Taking a moment, he activated the regular mana stone, which immediately began to glow with a soft light. Its light blue hue indicated that it was a water mana stone.


    Holding both stones, Arlon pondered how he might transfer the energy from the active mana stone into the used one. The process wasn''t described in the theory Alice had mentioned, but there had to be a way.


    Alice watched him intently, her eyes wide with astonishment. "I can''t believe you activated a mana stone so easily," she said, breaking the silence. "Even though you''re not an awakener."


    "...!"


    Her words made Arlon freeze, his thoughts grinding to a halt. Slowly, he turned to look at her, his calm expression hiding the unease rising inside him. "Not an awakener?" he repeated, feigning ignorance. "What makes you say that?"


    Alice tilted her head, confused by his reaction. "It''s not something ordinary people can do. Activating a mana stone requires a certain finesse that only awakeners can master easily. But in your case... It''s probably because of the Sky Soul power. Even without awakening, it gives you the ability to connect with mana."


    But I had already mastered it before I got Ace,


    Arlon''s grip tightened slightly on the stones. He forced a small smile. "I see... so mages like you can tell who''s an awakener and who isn''t?"


    Alice nodded without hesitation. "It''s instinct for mages¡ªwe can always sense who''s awakened and who isn''t."


    Arlon''s thoughts spiraled. If that''s true, then Dimitri must have known all along. The original Arlon Throndsen''s pretense of awakening couldn''t have fooled someone like him.


    This realization sent a chill down his spine. Dimitri, loyal to a fault, had always served the original Arlon without question. But why? Why would he remain loyal to someone who had been deceiving the world about his fake ability?


    Arlon''s thoughts spiraled deeper. Could that be why Dimitri vanished when Arlon became the heir to the family? Did he know something that made him leave¡ªor was his disappearance part of some larger plan?


    Alice interrupted his thoughts, oblivious to the storm brewing in his mind. "It''s incredible, though," she said, leaning closer to inspect the glowing mana stone. "You make it look so simple. Maybe you''ll be the first to figure out how to restore a used mana stone."


    Arlon gave a distracted nod, his focus still on the puzzle Dimitri''s loyalty posed. If Dimitri knew the truth, then he''s far more calculating than I gave him credit for. And if he stayed loyal despite that knowledge... what''s his real goal?


    The glow from the mana stone flickered slightly as Arlon''s concentration wavered. He quickly steadied himself, pushing his doubts aside for now. There was too much to do, and the mystery of Dimitri''s actions would have to wait.


    "Well," he said, breaking the silence. "Let''s see if I can figure out this mana stone restoration theory. I''ve got nothing to lose by trying."


    Alice smiled, her faith in him evident. "If anyone can figure it out, it''s you."


    But as Arlon turned his attention back to the mana stones, a lingering unease remained in the back of his mind¡ªa shadow of doubt that refused to fade.


    Dimitri''s loyalty, the original Arlon''s secrets, and the strange gaps in the story''s history... I''ll need answers. And he intended to find them.


    Just then, Dimitri returned, carrying a tray laden with an assortment of snacks and a fresh pot of tea. He placed the tray on the table with his usual precision, his demeanor unruffled.


    "Lady Alice," he said with a slight bow, "your brother Anthony is looking for you. He said it''s important."


    Alice''s eyes widened slightly, and she quickly gathered her things. "I should go then. Thank you for letting me know, Sir Dimitri." She turned to Arlon with a smile. "Good luck with your experiments,I''ll see you later."


    Arlon gave her a small nod. "Take care."


    With a quick wave, Alice left the room, leaving Arlon alone with Dimitri.


    Arlon picked up the cup of black tea Dimitri had poured for him, his expression neutral as he stared at the dark liquid. He took a measured sip, suppressing the grimace that threatened to surface.


    This tea again,he thought, the familiar taste lingering on his tongue.


    He didn''t hate it as much as he initially had, but it wasn''t growing on him either. Still, enduring it had become part of his routine. Just like enduring this act.


    Setting the cup back on the saucer, he straightened in his chair and fixed his gaze on Dimitri, who stood by the side of the room, ever the composed butler.


    "Dimitri," Arlon began, his tone calm but carrying an unmistakable weight, "you''ve always known, haven''t you?"


    Dimitri''s green eyes flickered with a faint trace of recognition, though his expression remained stoic. "Known what, my lord?"


    "That I''ve been pretending to be an awakener," Arlon said bluntly, leaning back slightly as he picked up the tea cup again. "How long have you known? And how long do you plan to keep quiet about it?"


    The room fell silent, save for the faint sound of the tea swirling in the cup as Arlon took another sip, his calm demeanor a sharp contrast to the weight of his words.


    Dimitri didn''t respond immediately. Instead, he adjusted his glasses with a deliberate motion, his gaze steady and unreadable.


    "You''re unusually bold today, my lord," Dimitri remarked, his smooth voice betraying no surprise. "It''s rare for you to broach such¡­ delicate topics so openly.


    Arlon set the cup down with a quiet clink. "I''m not in the mood for games, Dimitri. You''ve served me long enough to know everything about me. So, tell me¡ªhow long have you known, and why haven''t you said anything?"


    Dimitri''s lips curved into the faintest smile, though it wasn''t one of amusement. "If I may be honest, my lord, I''ve known from the beginning."


    Arlon raised an eyebrow but didn''t seem surprised. "From the beginning, you say?"


    "Yes," Dimitri said with a slight incline of his head. "It wasn''t difficult to discern. After all, an awakener''s aura is unmistakable, and yours has always been... absent."


    Arlon tapped his fingers lightly against the table, processing the confirmation. "And yet, you''ve stayed loyal. Why? Surely someone like you would have had plenty of opportunities to expose me¡ªor to leave entirely."


    Dimitri''s expression shifted, a faint glimmer of something unspoken crossing his sharp gaze. "Loyalty isn''t always tied to truth, my lord. Sometimes, it''s rooted in belief¡ªin the potential of someone, or the vision they may yet realize. That''s why I stayed."


    "..."


    Arlon studied him carefully, his calm facade unbroken, though his mind was anything but. Belief in potential? Or something else entirely? What are you really hiding, Dimitri?


    "I see," Arlon said finally, picking up the tea cup once more. "But I''ll warn you, Dimitri¡ªI don''t intend to keep this charade up forever. There will come a time when the truth will need to come out. And when that happens..."


    "You will have my support," Dimitri interjected smoothly, his tone unwavering. "As always."


    Arlon stared at him for a long moment before taking another sip of tea. He hated the taste, but this time, it seemed easier to bear.


    "Good," Arlon said at last, setting the cup down. "Let''s keep it that way."


    Dimitri inclined his head once more, his composed demeanor intact. "Of course, my lord."


    As the silence settled between them, Arlon couldn''t shake the feeling that Dimitri''s loyalty ran deeper than he''d admitted¡ªand that there were layers to this man''s motives he had yet to uncover.


    As the afternoon sun cast a warm glow across the villa, Arlon invited Lawrence, Alice, Anthony, and the young wolf boy Eric into a spacious sitting room.


    The room was filled with comfortable chairs and a low table with refreshments, creating a peaceful atmosphere amid the recent chaos. Lawrence, Alice, and Anthony took their seats, already sensing the weight of what Arlon was about to say.


    Once they had settled, Arlon took a deep breath and began, "I''ll be heading back to the Grand Duchy tomorrow. The Duchess has summoned me to attend a meeting with the noble families who support our house. I''ll likely be away for three days."


    Alice and Anthony nodded thoughtfully, glancing at each other. Arlon leaned forward, his gaze moving from each of them to Eric, who sat close to Alice, looking up at Arlon with quiet excitement.


    "I wanted to know what your plans are. Will you stay here, or do you have other intentions?"


    Though he appeared calm on the surface, Arlon''s thoughts churned beneath¡ªthe Duchess''s summons, Dimitri''s calculated loyalty, and the mystery of his borrowed power¡­ all demanded answers.

 Chapter 13: Six in a Carriage

    Alice spoke up first. "Actually, we''d like to bring Eric back to his home," she said, giving the wolf boy a gentle smile. "He remembers where his village is, and he''s been eager to return."


    Arlon nodded, recalling the disturbing events he''d read about in the original novel. He had assumed the Pry members kidnapped wolf children for a dark ritual, using their blood to empower the Moon Mage. But seeing the reality, with the mage outright killing the children, left Arlon wondering if there was more to the story than he understood.


    Why was the Moon Mage only killing them? Was he fulfilling a direct order rather than following some ritualistic purpose?


    Shaking off his unease, Arlon met Alice''s gaze. "It''s strange," he admitted. "I thought their intentions were to sacrifice blood to strengthen their power. But if he was just... slaughtering them, that''s a different kind of evil." He shook his head. "Well, I''ll help you however I can. We''ll travel together back to the Grand Duchy, and from there, you can take Eric home."


    Hearing this, Eric''s ears perked up, and his golden eyes gleamed with hope. "Really? I get to go home?".His voice trembled with excitement, and he bowed deeply to Arlon. "Thank you, Master Arlon. I''ll never forget this!."


    While the trio chatted with Eric, Arlon turned to Lawrence, and the two of them began discussing the village''s reconstruction efforts.


    Lawrence''s gratitude was clear. "I''m in your debt for what you''ve done. The village and everyone in it owes you."


    As the conversation continued, Lawrence suddenly leaned forward, his voice warm with gratitude.


    "Master Arlon," Lawrence said suddenly, his voice earnest. ''I can''t thank you enough for everything you''ve done.''


    Arlon nearly choked on his tea, coughing as he set the cup down. Master Arlon? Since when does he call me that? His eyes flicked to Lawrence, half-expecting a smirk, but all he saw was sincerity. What''s next¡ªbowing and calling me ''Your Grace''?"


    Where did that come from? Arlon thought, caught off guard. Did he hear Alice or Eric calling me that? Or was he just trying to be polite?.


    He had noticed that Lawrence is acting weird when he found out who Arlon is, could be that he was still struggling on how to address me.


    He felt a strange rush of both amusement and discomfort at the title. Master Arlon... I could get used to that, I suppose, he mused, though the thought was quickly followed by an inward chuckle. I mean, as long as Lawrence isn''t planning to start bowing and calling me ''my lord''...


    Quickly, he shrugged it off and returned Lawrence''s gratitude with a slight nod, trying to maintain his usual poise.


    "There''s no need to thank me, Lawrence. I should be thanking you for your trust, even though I haven''t been completely honest about who I am."


    Lawrence''s understanding gaze softened. "You don''t have to explain. Trust is earned through actions, and you''ve proven yourself time and time again."


    Taking a deep breath, Lawrence continued, "If you''re willing, though, I could use your help with something bigger. I need to understand the Pry members and their organization, the Celestia Clan. They''re dangerous, and I can''t fight them alone."


    Arlon considered his request. He had intended to lay low, avoiding the path of conflict and intrigue. But he knew well enough that the Celestia Clan''s influence ran deep and far. If left unchecked, their pursuit of dark power would threaten everything and everyone.


    The only way to secure peace is to confront them head-on, he realized. If I don''t cut the head off this organization, they''ll only keep spreading, like a plague across the land.


    He looked at Lawrence and gave a determined nod. "You have my word. If I uncover any information about the Celestia Clan, I''ll let you know."


    Inwardly, Arlon felt an odd frustration. In the novel, the Celestia Clan was portrayed as a shadowy organization bent on reviving their god to unleash ruin upon the world. But beyond that, he knew little. If I knew more, I could truly end this, he thought, clenching his fist. I could bring peace and live quietly.


    Lost in his musings, a thought surfaced. The ''narrator'' ¡ª the mysterious force that had offered him glimpses into others'' inner thoughts ¡ª had been strangely silent recently. Usually, it would present insights at pivotal moments or display the thoughts of key characters. But now, it was as if it had vanished entirely.


    "Where''s the narrator now?". Arlon frowned, a mix of relief and irritation bubbling inside him. It had been so useful before, revealing others'' thoughts when he needed them most.


    But now, it was like a broken tool¡ªsilent at the worst time.Glancing around, he focused on Alice, Anthony, and Eric, hoping to prompt the ''narrator'' back into action.


    Sure enough, a faint screen appeared in his mind''s eye:


    Flutter¡ª


    ["Alice suggested to Eric to eat and rest more to fully recover."]


    ["Eric was overjoyed at the thought of reuniting with his family, recalling Alice''s comforting words."I can''t wait to see my family again¡ªespecially after everything that''s happened. I''m sure they''ll be happy to see I''m doing better"]


    ["Anthony pondered ways they might repay Arlon for his kindness."Master Arlon has been so kind to us. I''ve been thinking¡­ how can we repay him for everything he''s done? We owe him so much for his generosity."]


    Good, at least it still works on some of them, Arlon thought, slightly relieved. Then, he looked toward Lawrence, hoping to catch a glimpse of his inner thoughts as well. But no screen appeared. He focused harder, silently willing the narrator to reveal something about Lawrence.


    "..."


    Noticing Arlon''s intense stare, Lawrence tilted his head with a curious smile. "Do you need something,master Arlon? You''ve been looking at me for quite a while."


    Startled, Arlon looked away quickly, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Ah, no. Just... thinking about where the villagers might stay while their homes are rebuilt."


    Lawrence''s eyes lit up in understanding. "If you''re suggesting they stay here at the villa, that would be incredibly helpful. Thank you for the offer," he replied, his gratitude evident.


    Arlon forced a small smile, nodding as if he had planned it all along. So, the narrator can''t access Lawrence''s thoughts, he mused, silently frustrated. Why only him?


    As they continued talking, Arlon''s mind was already spinning, preparing for the journey and for the coming challenges at the Grand Duchy. The thought of the nobles waiting for him didn''t make him nervous ¡ª it made him eager. This time, he was ready. This time, he would show them who he truly was.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Arlon sat alone in his room, fresh from his meeting with Lawrence and the trio, trying to piece together the strange puzzle of his situation. As he unbuttoned his shirt and prepared for a bath, his mind returned to a recurring mystery: the narrator.


    ''Despite all its appearances and helpful, almost automated commentary, it seemed to avoid offering any insights into Lawrence''s thoughts.''


    It was a strange limitation, and Arlon couldn''t shake the feeling that there was more to the narrator than mere tracking. If it could track his every move and note every thought, why was it suddenly so selective?


    Lost in thought, Arlon slipped into the bath, relaxing in the warm water as his mind continued to probe the edges of this mystery. "It''s like it''s watching me¡­ not just narrating¡­ like it''s hiding something, panicking whenever I come across something unknown," he mused. "Could it be possible to manipulate it? What if I kept digging, uncovering untold knowledge in this world?"If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    He thought back to stories he''d read about other characters who transmigrated, tales of individuals who managed to find a way back to their original world¡ªthough the odds were never in their favor.


    Most of them had either stayed or failed because they became tied to their new life or purpose here. If anything, Arlon decided, he was going to use every piece of knowledge from his world and this one to find out whether going home was even possible.


    "One percent chance¡­ it might be slim, but it''s enough."


    After his bath, Arlon slipped into his nightwear and sat down to write a few notes.This record wasn''t for anyone else; it was his way of keeping track of anything that might point toward his way home.His quiet routine was interrupted as Ace, sprawled lazily across his bed, lifted his head with a curious look.


    "Writing a plan or something?" Ace asked, scratching his head.


    Arlon gave him a sly smile. "Maybe. Let''s see where it goes."


    Ace raised a brow, looking mildly baffled by Arlon''s response.


    But before he could question further, Arlon pulled out a book of ancient language he''d found in the study room. He turned to Ace, holding it open. "Can you tell me what you see in this book again?"


    Ace glanced at the book and blinked. "It''s got some of those ancient scribbles¡­ the kind only an ancient being could read. Ancient mages, elves, or maybe a Dragon could handle this sort of thing. They''ve been around long enough to know it all."


    Arlon chuckled. "You''re a dragon, aren''t you?"


    For a moment, Ace''s usual energy seemed to drain away. "I was the first Sky Soul Guardian. They¡­ kept me away from the others, unsure of what to do with me. I was the very first dragon in my kin to receive it."


    Arlon''s eyes softened as he considered this revelation. Ace had been set apart, isolated because of his unique power, growing up without his kin guidance. Curious, Arlon activated the narrator to see Ace''s thoughts.


    [¡ª"He''d been alone as long as he could remember, uncertain if his family even survived, regretting thoughts of them¡ª]


    [¡ª"They were the reason he was alone for so long. He doesn''t care if they live or die, as long as he has his freedom now."]


    Arlon studied Ace thoughtfully before turning back to the book. "It says here that some ancient dragons still live, hiding in remote places," he said aloud. "Maybe there''s still a chance¡ª"


    Ace''s eyes lit up. "Are you sure? That might just be a legend."


    "Perhaps," Arlon shrugged. "But sometimes, legends carry a hint of truth. Someone believed in it enough to write it down, after all. And sometimes records like these¡­ they just need someone willing to find the proof."


    Ace''s gaze brightened at this encouragement, and Arlon continued to read, his eyes drifting across the ancient text. "This part here mentions a god who was once human¡­ someone who left marks across the world to show control over the sky and beyond."


    "A human who became a god?" Arlon''s curiosity grew. If the power existed to transcend humanity, could it also work in reverse? What if he could find some path back to his original life?


    Before he could delve further, Dimitri knocked on the door, his tone impatient. "My lord, you should be resting for the journey tomorrow."


    Arlon exhaled, reluctantly closing the book. "Fine, Dimitri, I''ll sleep."


    As he lay in bed, his thoughts wandered back to the mystery of the god mentioned in the book¡ªa god beyond the novel''s familiar lore. Could this be another hint, something pointing to the possibility of breaking out of this world? He''d never been so certain that the narrator was hiding something¡­ or that he was so close to discovering a path he wasn''t supposed to see.


    The next day arrived brightlyafternoon, and the group prepared to leave the villa. The carriage waited, its dark wood and polished brass trim gleaming in the morning sun.


    Dimitri gave the carriage a skeptical glance as he approached Arlon, who was overseeing the preparations.


    "My Lord," Dimitri began, raising a brow. "Are you certain you want all six of us to travel in this carriage? It was originally meant for just the two of us."


    Arlon waved off Dimitri''s concerns with a slight smile. "It''ll be fine, Dimitri. The carriage is large enough. Besides, it''s better if we all stick together."


    Dimitri looked back at the carriage, then at the group, his expression dubious. "As you wish, my Lord. But don''t blame me if there''s barely room to stretch your legs."


    Ace, currently in his cat form, leapt up onto Arlon''s shoulder, curling his tail around Arlon''s neck with a purr. "Don''t worry, Dimitri! We''ll fit just fine," he said with a playful flick of his tail. "And with me on Arlon''s shoulder, I''m barely taking up any space at all."


    Alice laughed as she gathered her belongings. "Well, Ace certainly has a point. Plus, Eric''s already claimed the window seat," she added, nodding toward the young gray wolf, who was practically bouncing with excitement.


    Eric looked up eagerly, his bright eyes sparkling. "I want to see everything on the road! Please, can I sit by the window?"


    Arlon smiled warmly. "Of course, Eric. You can have the window seat."


    Lawrence stepped forward with a polite smile. "Don''t worry, Sir Dimitri, we''ll be careful not to crowd."


    Dimitri shot him a look, raising an eyebrow but then sighing in resignation. "Fine," he said, relenting with a slight nod, "but I reserve the right to take the corner seat."


    With everyone settled, they climbed aboard. Arlon took his seat with Ace comfortably perched on his lap, his small paws kneading into Arlon''s knee as he purred contentedly. Eric took his spot by the window, while Alice and Anthony sat opposite Arlon, and Lawrence lounged on the other side, next to Dimitri.


    As the carriage began to roll forward, Ace stretched, glancing around the group. "Alright, so, who''s up for some storytelling to pass the time?" he asked, his feline voice full of excitement.


    Arlon chuckled, giving Ace a fond scratch behind the ears. "Only if you promise to keep the stories under five minutes, Ace. We don''t want you running out of energy before we even reach our destination."


    Ace feigned offense, his whiskers twitching. "I would never! My stories are concise and captivating, thank you very much."


    Eric, still glued to the window, turned his head briefly. "Can I tell a story too?" he asked, his voice muffled against the glass.


    Alice reached over and tousled Eric''s hair. "Of course, Eric. You can be our storyteller too."


    The carriage buzzed with laughter and warmth as each member took turns sharing stories. Ace, true to form, spun wildly exaggerated tales of his supposed heroics, drawing groans and chuckles alike. Eric, nervous at first, shared a tender story about saving an injured bird, his words growing steadier with encouragement from Alice. Even Lawrence, who usually kept to himself, surprised everyone with a humorous tale of a merchant''s ''magic potion'' gone wrong


    Then, it was Lawrence''s turn. He had been quiet up until now, leaning back in his seat, but at the mention of stories, his interest piqued. "Alright, I suppose I can share one," he said with a grin, looking around at the others with a playful glint in his eyes.


    The story was filled with humor and slight absurdity, and as he told it, the entire carriage erupted into laughter.Ace, as animated as ever, leaned back into Arlon''s lap, clearly basking in the attention his tale had earned. Even Lawrence, who usually remained stoic, allowed himself a rare chuckle.


    Arlon''s gaze, however, drifted back to the window, the laughter in the carriage fading into background noise as he took in the view. The warm wind swept through the open window, carrying the faint scents of wildflowers and freshly tilled soil. The carriage was traveling along the side of a mountain path, offering an unobstructed view of the vast expanse of the Throndsen Duchy''s lands below.


    It was breathtaking.


    The Throndsen estate had no walls or boundaries around Falcon, the state city. Without the confines of walls, every side of the city stretched out seamlessly into sprawling fields, bustling markets, and residential areas. The lack of barriers gave the land an open, free-flowing beauty, and its sheer scale was immense.


    Arlon leaned closer to the window, his purple eyes under the mask scanning the horizon.


    No wonder they called this land a kingdom once, Arlon mused. Even now, the Throndsen Duchy felt like royalty disguised as nobility. The sprawling fields, bustling markets, and golden farmland blended seamlessly into the horizon, as if the land itself breathed with life and purpose.


    He remembered reading in the original story that the family''s position had shifted when Ciel Throndsen, the previous head of the family, had become a close ally to the other kingdoms. To maintain balance and peace, Ciel had willingly lowered the family''s status from royalty to nobility, transforming the Throndsen Kingdom into the Throndsen Duchy.


    "It''s still like a kingdom, though," Arlon muttered under his breath, his gaze moving from the distant market stalls to the golden fields beyond and then to the bustling port. The lands were alive with activity, people moving like tiny ants in the distance, each contributing to the Duchy''s vibrance.


    His eyes finally landed on the Throndsen castle, perched near Falcon city like a silent guardian overlooking the land. The castle was massive, its towers reaching skyward and casting long shadows over the nearby city. It''s just like something out of those fantasy books, he thought, a mix of awe and anxiety stirring in his chest.


    For a moment, excitement bubbled up inside him. This was an entirely different world from the one he had come from, and yet here he was, part of it¡ªliving it. But then, that excitement twisted into a knot of nervousness. The weight of being Arlon Throndsen settled heavily on his shoulders again.


    Suddenly, Ace''s voice broke through his thoughts. "Hey, noble Arlon, you''re not ignoring me, are you?" The cat''s tone was teasing, but his golden eyes narrowed slightly.


    "Just... thinking," Arlon replied, his voice calm as he leaned back in his seat.


    "Thinking about what?" Lawrence asked from across the carriage, his emerald eyes catching Arlon''s.


    "About how ridiculous this place is," Arlon said lightly, though there was a trace of honesty in his tone. "A ''duchy'' that looks and feels like a kingdom. It''s as if father wanted the best of all kingdoms."


    Lawrence tilted his head, intrigued. "It does seem excessive, doesn''t it? I wonder why he made that choice."


    "To keep the peace," Dimitri interjected from his corner, his voice smooth and even. "Ciel Throndsen was a visionary. He understood that power, if unchecked, breeds unrest. By lowering the family''s status, he ensured stability and alliances. It was a calculated move."


    Ace scoffed, flicking his tail. "Sounds dull. If I had that kind of power, I''d let everyone know it. Towers of gold, lightning storms on command¡ªthe works. Holding back is for cowards."


    Arlon gave him a sideways glance. "And that''s why you''re sitting on my lap and not running a kingdom, Ace."


    The carriage erupted into laughter again, the tension lifting for a moment.


    But as Arlon leaned back against the cushioned seat, his eyes drifting back to the castle on the horizon, the knot of nervousness in his chest didn''t go away.


    Soon, I''ll have to step into that castle, into the world of nobles and politics¡ªand into the role of someone I''m still figuring out how to be.


    He took a deep breath, letting the warm wind calm his racing thoughts. One step at a time, Shin. You''ve got this.

 Chapter 14: The Weight of Legacy

    The journey through the Throndsen lands finally brought them to the grand entrance of Falcon. Arlon leaned slightly out of the carriage window, catching his first glimpse of the massive stone bridge ahead. It stretched across a deep ravine, with shimmering water far below reflecting the afternoon sun.


    The water wrapped around the city like a natural moat, its presence both elegant and imposing.


    At the far end of the bridge stood a gatehouse carved into the cliffside, with tall watchtowers flanking the entrance. The guards stationed there squinted at the approaching carriage, their gazes narrowing as they spotted the Throndsen family crest emblazoned on its side.


    "Open the gate! It''s the Throndsen family carriage!" one guard shouted, his voice carrying over the bustle of the area.


    Creak¡ª


    The massive iron gates creaked as they were pulled open, revealing the road leading directly into the city. Guards lined up in perfect formation, bowing deeply in respect as the carriage passed through.


    Inside the carriage, Arlon sat stiffly, observing the scene with mixed emotions.


    The heavy gates gave way to the sprawling city of Falcon beyond. Arlon couldn''t help but admire the view¡ªthe city had no enclosing walls, yet it was breathtaking. The open landscape flowed like a painting, with bustling markets, sprawling fields, and neatly arranged homes stretching out in all directions.


    In the distance, Throndsen Castle rose atop a hill, its silhouette commanding attention against the blue sky.


    "This is too much," Arlon muttered under his breath, his gaze flickering between the guards and the city that now stretched before them. "I told Dimitri to take a quieter route, but here we are parading through the main road like we''re announcing a festival."


    Ace, lounging lazily on Arlon''s lap, tilted his head with amusement. "What''s with the face? You look like you just swallowed that tea you hate so much."


    Arlon shot the cat with a tired look. "I''m not fond of unnecessary attention," he replied, his voice even but tinged with irritation.


    Ace smirked. "You''re the heir to the Throndsen family. Attention is basically your middle name."


    As they entered the city proper, Arlon noticed the way people stopped in their tracks. Conversations halted mid-sentence. Merchants froze, their wares halfway raised to customers, and parents pulled their children aside as they pointed at the passing carriage.


    The crowd parted instinctively, forming a wide path for the vehicle. Guards flanked the carriage, ensuring no one got too close.


    "So much for going unnoticed," Arlon thought, his lips pressing into a thin line. He leaned slightly out of the window, listening to the murmurs of the crowd.


    "Lord Arlon is here? It''s been so long!"


    "Look at that crest. The Throndsen heir must be inside."


    "I heard he''s as powerful as his father, Duke Ceil. Could it be true?"


    The whispers reached his ears, making him feel even more self-conscious.


    "My Lord," Dimitri''s calm voice cut through his thoughts. "Your discomfort is unnecessary. This level of respect is the norm for someone in your position. Embrace it."


    Arlon sighed, shifting in his seat. "Norm or not, I''d rather avoid this circus."


    Ace yawned dramatically, flicking his tail. "If you want, I can jump out and tell everyone to go home. Might make things worse, though."


    "Don''t you dare," Arlon replied flatly, though a hint of humor crept into his tone.


    Clip-Clop Clip-Clop ¨C


    As the carriage moved deeper into the city, Throndsen Castle came into view, its pristine white walls veined with silver and gold commanding the skyline. The towering spires shimmered in the sunlight, their carvings and gargoyles casting long shadows.


    In the immaculate courtyard, a fountain of a falcon in flight stood at the center, surrounded by blooming flowers and perfectly trimmed hedges, softening the castle''s imposing grandeur.


    Screech¡ª


    The carriage slowed to a halt at the courtyard''s center, and Arlon took a deep breath. The guards and servants lined up on either side of the path, their heads bowed low in unison.


    As silence settled, memories surfaced unbidden. Arlon thought of his mother''s death during the war and the void it left in his heart. He remembered his father, Ceil Throndsen, his anchor through those times, until illness struck him while caring for the Duchess''s twin daughters, claiming all their lives.


    Ceil had fought desperately to save them, but in the end, it had cost him his own life.


    Arlon''s chest tightened at the memory. The loss of his father had forever changed him, leaving a void that even time had failed to heal. And though he understood the Duchess''s grief over losing her daughters, he couldn''t shake the resentment he felt toward her.


    Now, as he stood before the castle that symbolized his family''s legacy, he couldn''t ignore the reality of his situation. His stepmother was still a part of his life, and whether he liked it or not, he would have to face her.


    Step¡ª


    The sound of footsteps drew Arlon from his thoughts. Dimitri stepped out of the carriage first, moving with quiet precision. He turned back toward Arlon, gesturing for him to follow.


    Taking another breath, Arlon stepped out, his polished boots meeting the cobblestones with a soft thud. The warm breeze carried the faint scent of blooming flowers and freshly tilled earth.


    His gaze immediately sought the figure descending the grand staircase that led from the castle''s main entrance.


    And there she was¡ªthe Duchess,Emilia Throndsen.


    She was a striking woman with quiet authority. Her faded blonde hair fell in soft waves, framing graceful features. Sky-blue eyes sparkled with warmth as she approached, her long gown flowing elegantly. Despite her poise, her genuine smile softened the formality of the moment.


    Arlon stood still, his hands clasped behind his back, as she stopped a few feet before him. His mind buzzed with thoughts. She''s¡­ so welcoming. I thought there''d be more coldness or distance. This is almost too warm.


    "Arlon," she greeted, her voice soft yet steady, carrying a motherly warmth. "You''ve arrived safely. I''m so glad."


    Arlon inclined his head slightly, masking the unease bubbling beneath his calm exterior. "The journey was smooth," he replied evenly, his tone betraying none of his conflicted feelings.


    Her smile widened as she stepped closer. "You must be tired from such a long trip. I trust Dimitri ensured everything was to your liking?"


    "Of course, Your Grace," Dimitri answered smoothly, bowing slightly. "Lord Arlon was well cared for."


    Emilia chuckled lightly. "That''s good to hear. I know how diligent you are, Dimitri." Her gaze returned to Arlon, her expression softening even further.


    Her eyes flicked to the four individuals who had stepped out of the carriage with him: Lawrence, Alice, Anthony, and the young wolf boy Eric. Her sky-blue eyes sparkled with curiosity as she addressed Arlon.


    "It seems you''ve brought guests with you," she said warmly. "I hadn''t expected company, but I''m delighted to welcome them."


    Before Arlon could respond, Dimitri stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Your Grace, I will explain their presence in due time."


    Emilia gave a gracious nod. "Very well, Dimitri. Please, all of you, come inside," she said, gesturing toward the grand doors behind her. Her voice was as warm and inviting as the sunlight streaming across the courtyard.


    The group murmured their thanks and followed her lead. Servants bustled about at her command, preparing rooms for the guests and arranging for dinner. As they walked through the castle''s elegantly decorated hallways, Arlon moved with quiet detachment, his gaze taking in the intricate details surrounding him.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    The marble columns were carved with scenes of valor, while tapestries hung heavy with gold embroidery, each one telling a story of the Throndsen family''s long history. The soft glow of chandeliers illuminated the corridors, casting warm light on the polished floors. The castle was a testament to the Throndsen legacy¡ªgrand, imposing, and suffused with history.


    As they continued down the hallway, Arlon''s attention was caught by movement near one of the grand pillars. Two slender figures peeked out cautiously, their pale blonde hair catching the light. His chest tightened as he immediately recognized them¡ªhis younger half-sisters, the twins.


    The two girls, now in their early teens, peeked cautiously from behind the pillar. They froze under his gaze, their wide eyes hesitant. Though older, their fragile demeanor and nervous glances made them seem younger, their delicate features a mirror of their mother''s.


    They''re just children, Arlon thought, his heart constricting at the sight. Yet, the memories of his resentment toward their mother¡ªthe pain of his father''s death and the years of emotional distance¡ªclouded his feelings. He didn''t know how to reconcile the mix of guilt, anger, and uncertainty swirling inside him.


    Still, in their eyes, there was no malice, only a quiet yearning for connection.


    The twins quickly disappeared behind the pillar, leaving Arlon to wrestle with his thoughts in silence. They want to talk to me, he realized. But they''re afraid. The weight of their expectations lingered, an unspoken pressure he didn''t know how to face.


    Ahead of him, Emilia remained oblivious to the fleeting interaction. She gestured toward a set of ornate doors leading to the guest rooms. "You''ll find everything you need here," she said, her voice as warm as ever.


    Arlon followed her lead, keeping his face composed, though the image of the twins'' hopeful eyes stayed with him.


    Later that evening, Arlon found himself walking through the castle''s quiet halls with Dimitri at his side. The butler''s movements were as precise as ever, his silver-blue hair catching the flickering torchlight as they approached Arlon''s chambers.


    Coming to a halt outside the door, Dimitri turned to face Arlon, his sharp green eyes as unreadable as always.


    "Dimitri," Arlon began, his voice low but firm. "Do not mention anything about me receiving the Sky Soul to the Duchess or anyone else in the household. The decision on how to proceed with it will remain mine."


    Dimitri''s expression didn''t falter, though his gaze flickered faintly with understanding. He inclined his head. "As you wish, my lord," he replied, his voice a touch colder than usual. There was no question in his tone, only obedience.


    Arlon''s gaze softened for a brief moment as he studied Dimitri, but it wasn''t trust that passed between them¡ªit never had been. Instead, it was an unspoken understanding.


    Without another word, Arlon turned toward his chamber and entered, the heavy door closing behind him with a soft thud.


    Creak¡ª


    The room was bathed in pale moonlight, its polished floors reflecting the faint glow. The familiar scent of lavender lingered in the air, a distant echo of a life Arlon no longer recognized.


    Sinking into a chair by the fireplace, he stared at the flickering flames, his thoughts a tangled web of duty, power, and the looming nobles'' meeting. The Sky Soul and the weight of his family''s legacy pressed heavily on him.


    His mind wandered to the twins¡ªthe hesitant hopefulness in their eyes. Should I reach out? Or will I only let them down? He leaned back, letting the fire''s warmth soothe him, though his thoughts drifted far beyond the room.


    Eventually, unable to shake his restlessness, Arlon stood and crossed the room, his steps muffled by the thick carpet beneath his boots. He made his way to the arched window and stopped, his gaze falling on the sprawling city of Falcon below. From this vantage point, perched on the cliffside, the entire duchy stretched out before him like a living map.


    Whoosh¡ª


    The chamber was vast and elegantly designed, with tapestries depicting the family''s history and falcon carvings lining the high ceiling. A royal blue and silver canopy bed stood in one corner, while shelves of books and relics hinted at its former occupant''s refined taste.


    The circular balcony offered a sweeping view of the land. The hum of the city and the rustle of the wind created a quiet melody as Arlon stepped out, resting his hands on the stone railing and scanning the horizon with sharp purple eyes.


    The view was breathtaking¡ªfields of gold stretched endlessly into the distance, dotted with bustling markets, quiet villages, and the shimmering blue of the harbor in the far east. Yet, despite the serenity of the scene, his thoughts churned with unease.


    This had been the original Arlon''s room, his haven. The realization settled heavily on him. So, this is where he stood. How many times did he look out at this same view, burdened by his guilt and ambition?.


    His gaze drifted toward the lively streets of Falcon below. Despite the city''s openness and charm, there was an undeniable weight in its history¡ªa legacy shaped by power and sacrifice.


    Father ruled all this with his ideals of peace and balance, Arlon thought, his grip tightening on the railing. But it had come at a cost. The memories of Ceil Throndsen''s death rose unbidden: the illness that struck his younger half-sisters, the endless nights his father spent searching for a cure, and, finally, the sickness that claimed Ceil''s own life.


    For so long, Arlon had blamed the Duchess and her daughters for his father''s death, channeling his grief into resentment. Yet, now¡­ now, he wasn''t so sure.


    They suffered too, he realized, recalling the timid, hesitant glances of the twins earlier.


    They''re just children. Arlon blamed them for so long... but they were only victims, like the rest of us.


    The wind picked up, carrying with it the distant sounds of life from the city below. Taking a deep breath, Arlon closed his eyes for a moment.


    This is my life now. My family. My people. Whether I like it or not, I''ll have to face them all¡ªand soon.


    Fwoosh!¡ª


    The faint shimmer of purple light broke Arlon''s thoughts. Without turning, he spoke. "You''ve been invisible this entire time, haven''t you?"


    With a flicker, Ace materialized on the balcony railing, his trademark smirk firmly in place. "Had to make sure you weren''t being followed," he said, stretching lazily. His crimson eyes sparkled mischievously as he added, "Oh, and I noticed those two twin girls shadowing you since you entered the castle."


    Arlon frowned, straightening slightly. "The twins?"


    Ace nodded, leaping down from the railing and onto the smooth stone floor. "They''ve been glued to you like shadows. Cute, really. Guess they''re curious about their big brother."


    Arlon sighed, his mind racing. He had noticed the twins earlier but assumed their curiosity was fleeting. Now, it seemed more deliberate.


    "They must be trying to figure me out," he muttered. "They''ve probably heard stories. I doubt they''d approach me directly, though."


    Ace settled onto the canopy bed, sprawling out as though it were his personal throne. "You''ve got time to deal with them. No need to rush."


    Arlon crossed his arms, leaning back against the railing. "No need, but avoiding them isn''t the answer either. I''ll figure out how to approach them. When the time is right."


    Ace yawned theatrically, waving a paw. "Fine, fine. Now, what''s for lunch? Roast beef? Maybe soup? Something decent, for once."


    Ignoring Ace''s playful musings, Arlon turned away from the balcony, the cool wind still brushing against his back. Crossing the room, he paused by his desk, his fingers lightly brushing its polished surface.


    His thoughts churned with the weight of his next steps¡ªstrategizing his role in a family filled with unspoken expectations while preparing to navigate the treacherous web of Throndsen politics


    After a moment, he decided he needed to take action rather than lose himself in thought. Rising from his seat, Arlon exited his chamber and stepped into the grand hallways of the castle.


    As Arlon stepped into the grand hallways, the air shifted. Servants hurried past him, their movements stiff with a practiced deference that bordered on fear. Each bow was low, each gaze averted, but the tension in their presence was unmistakable.


    It mirrored the villa staff''s unease, though here it felt sharper¡ªetched into the very fabric of the castle. For a moment, Arlon wondered if it was the Throndsen name that weighed on them, or something else entirely.


    The castle''s labyrinthine layout didn''t make things any easier, and for a moment, Arlon worried he might get lost. Fortunately, he remembered the path Dimitri had led him through earlier. After a few turns, he arrived at a massive, ornate door.


    Arlon pushed open the ornate door to the library, a quiet haven of knowledge. Towering shelves lined the space, filled with leather-bound tomes and faded parchments. The air carried the scent of aged paper and polished wood, calm yet weighty. In the distance, the faint rustle of pages hinted at life within the stillness, sparking a flicker of curiosity in him for the first time in hours.


    Wandering the aisles, he scanned the spines for anything useful. His fingers brushed over a section labeled Ancient Languages and Histories, and he selected a thick tome. Turning its pages, he muttered, "It''s better to focus on one comprehensive book than waste time on scattered volumes."


    Rustle Rustle¡ª


    As he reached for another book, a faint sound of rustling caught his attention. He froze, listening intently. The noise came from the other side of the shelves. Moving quietly, he rounded the corner and stopped short.


    A small girl sat cross-legged on the floor, her pale blonde hair catching the soft light streaming through the window. She was engrossed in her book, her small frame almost blending into the shadows of the towering shelves.


    Irien, Arlon realized instantly. One of his twin half-sisters.


    For a moment, he debated leaving. But before he could retreat, Irien abruptly closed her book with a soft thud.


    "Irish? Is that you?" she called, turning her head slightly.


    Arlon froze, holding his breath. He shifted to leave, but she stood and began walking in his direction.


    Step¡ª Step¡ª


    "Is someone there?" Irien asked again, her small footsteps growing louder.


    Irien rounded the corner and froze. Her wide, curious eyes locked onto his masked face, her steps faltering as though she hadn''t expected to find him there. For a moment, the silence stretched between them, her small frame stiff under the weight of his gaze. The flicker of hesitation in her eyes was unmistakable¡ªequal parts awe and fear.


    "You''re¡­" Her voice trailed off as recognition dawned on her face.


    Arlon tilted his head slightly, waiting. Irien fidgeted, glancing down at her hands nervously.


    ....


    The silence stretched unbearably, and Arlon found himself grasping for words. "Do you like reading?" he asked, his voice steady but tinged with a hesitation that betrayed his discomfort. The question felt clumsy, but it was all he could muster.


    Irien''s head shot up, her nervous expression softening. "Yes!" she replied eagerly, her voice filled with quiet enthusiasm.


    "That''s good," Arlon said, allowing a faint smile to touch his lips beneath the mask. "It''s a useful habit to have."


    Irien shuffled her feet, looking at him shyly. "Are you here alone?"


    She shook her head. "No¡­ Irish was with me, but she went back to our room to grab her things."


    "I see," Arlon replied, his tone neutral. An awkward silence settled between them, and he struggled to find the right words.


    Finally, he stepped back and nodded slightly. "I won''t disturb you any further. Enjoy your reading."


    Irien''s eyes widened slightly, as though she wanted to say more. Instead, she gave a small nod and murmured," T-Thank you¡­," she said, her voice soft but uneven, as though still unsure how to bridge the gap.


    Arlon paused briefly before turning and walking away, his cape trailing behind him. As he disappeared around the corner, Irien clutched her book to her chest, staring at the space where he had been.


    He''s not as cold as I thought, she mused, a faint warmth settling in her chest. For the first time in a long while, the weight of her nervousness seemed to ease.


    Step¡ª Step¡ª


    Meanwhile, Arlon moved deeper into the library, his thoughts a mix of relief and frustration. This isn''t going to be easy, he thought, scanning the shelves for his book. But maybe it doesn''t have to be impossible.

 Chapter 15: Bridging the Distance

    Emilia sat behind her polished mahogany desk, her expression thoughtful as Dimitri stood before her, delivering his report with calm precision. The faint scent of lavender lingered in the air, but the weight of their conversation pressed heavily in the room.


    Dimitri''s steady voice broke the silence. "The Celestial Clan has shown more interest in Arlon than anticipated. They''ve begun targeting him through their group, the Pry. Their motives are clear¡ªthey seek to manipulate him into their fold."


    Emilia sighed softly, her fingers brushing against the desk. "I expected this. The Pry have always been drawn to power, and Arlon, as the next heir, is an obvious target." Her sky-blue eyes hardened. "But I won''t let them use him. No matter what."


    Dimitri paused briefly, measuring his words. "Arlon rejected their offer."


    Emilia blinked, her surprise evident. "He rejected them?" she repeated, her tone laced with confusion.


    "Yes," Dimitri confirmed, his expression neutral. "He chose a safer path."


    Emilia leaned back in her chair, her mind racing. Arlon''s decision was unexpected. She had always seen him as ambitious, someone who would seize any opportunity to gain power and secure his position as heir. "I assumed he''d accept," she admitted, her surprise evident. "Why didn''t he?"


    "Because he is more cautious than most assume," Dimitri replied. "He may appear driven by power, but he isn''t impulsive. He is thinking carefully about his future¡ªand the risks involved."


    Emilia exhaled slowly, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Perhaps it''s for the best," she said, though the concern in her voice remained. "If he''d acted rashly, he might have fallen into their trap. But still¡­The Pry won''t give up. They''ll keep pushing him, testing his resolve."


    "Which is why I''ll ensure their attempts are closely monitored," Dimitri agreed, inclining his head. "I''ll continue to monitor his movements and report back to you immediately if anything arises."


    "Good," Emilia said firmly, her tone leaving no room for doubt. "We can''t afford to underestimate them."


    The conversation shifted slightly as Dimitri asked, "And the twins, Your Grace? I trust they are doing well?"


    Emilia''s gaze softened, but her worry was evident. "They are in stable condition," she said, folding her hands on the desk. "But I remain concerned about their proximity to an awakener. Such connections tend to strain their lineage, draining their energy. It''s a dangerous risk."


    Dimitri''s expression remained impassive, though a flicker of concern passed through his sharp green eyes. "I''ll ensure they are kept at a safe distance from any potential threats," he assured her.


    Emilia gave a faint nod. "Good. Their health is fragile enough as it is. The last thing I want is for them to suffer further."


    Her voice softened as her thoughts turned to Arlon. "And Arlon¡­" She paused, the words momentarily catching in her throat. "He''s still distant from the twins. But I''ve seen how they look at him. There''s admiration there, even if he can''t see it yet. Perhaps one day, he''ll understand."


    Dimitri inclined his head, his tone measured yet reassuring. "Lord Arlon has endured much. His struggle to connect is not without reason. But with your patience and care, as with the twins, he will find his way. Progress, Your Grace, takes time."


    Emilia offered a small, grateful smile. "I hope you''re right, Dimitri. I only wish their father could have been here to guide Arlon himself."


    ¡­.


    The room fell quiet, the mention of Ciel Throndsen bringing a heaviness neither could ignore. Dimitri''s gaze softened as he said, "Ciel may not be here in body, but his presence lives on¡ªin you and in the children. His legacy will not be forgotten."


    Emilia''s smile wavered, but there was a warmth in her eyes now. "Thank you, Dimitri," she said quietly. "I''ll keep moving forward. For them."


    Dimitri gave a small bow. "You''ve done far more than most could, Your Grace. They''re fortunate to have you."


    For a moment, the two shared a quiet understanding, the weight of loss balanced by determination. Finally, Dimitri straightened. "I''ll leave you to your thoughts," he said, stepping toward the door. "I''ll remain vigilant and keep you informed."


    With a respectful nod, Dimitri exited the room, his footsteps echoing softly down the hall.


    Left alone, Emilia turned her gaze toward the window. The sunlight streamed through the glass, casting soft patterns on the polished floor. Her thoughts drifted to the day of Ciel''s death, a memory etched deeply into her heart.


    "I''m sorry," Ciel had whispered on his deathbed. "I wish I could stay¡­ to guide them. To guide you." Even now, the words cut deep. He had sacrificed everything for their family, leaving a void that even Arlon could not fill.


    But despite the sorrow, she had never forgotten his strength or his love. You would be proud of them, Ciel, she thought, her gaze softening. Especially the twins. They''ve grown so much, even through their struggles.


    Her thoughts turned to Arlon. He was still a mystery, his heart guarded and distant. But she refused to give up on him¡ªor on any of her children. He''ll find his way, she told herself firmly. I''ll guide him as best I can. Just as you would have.


    Emilia''s expression grew resolute as she straightened in her chair. The burdens of the past weighed heavily on her shoulders, but she carried them with quiet strength. Her children were her future, and she would do everything in her power to protect and guide them.


    He would have been proud of them. All of them.


    With a final glance out the window, Emilia rose from her desk, her posture poised and determined. There was much to do, but she would face it all¡ªjust as she always had.


    Elsewhere in the castle, Arlon walked the halls, lost in thought.


    Arlon strode through the hallways, the weight of the book he had found in the library grounding him as his thoughts drifted back to his brief encounter with Irien. Her quiet curiosity lingered in his mind, mingling with a faint unease that he couldn''t quite place.


    His steps were slow and deliberate, his gaze flickering between the ornate surroundings and the path ahead.


    As he turned a corner, the sound of hurried footsteps broke the stillness. Instinctively, he stiffened, preparing to step aside. Before he could react, a small figure collided with him, the force jarring but not enough to unbalance him.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    His stance remained firm as he steadied himself, while the other person fell to the floor with a soft thud.


    Thud¡ª


    Arlon glanced down to see a girl sitting on the polished floor, her arms sprawled among scattered books. She rubbed her forehead, stunned, before her wide blue eyes rose and locked onto his masked face.


    For a moment, the hallway was silent. Irish froze, her expression shifting between surprise and what looked like a mix of awe and trepidation. Arlon cleared his throat to break the awkward tension and crouched to help her gather the fallen books.


    "Are you all right?" he asked, his voice calm but distant.


    Rustle rustle¡ª


    Irish blinked, snapping out of her daze. "Y-Yes," she stammered, her cheeks flushing as she fumbled to collect the books around her. "I''m so sorry! I wasn''t looking where I was going."


    "It''s fine," Arlon replied, handing her a book. "But you should be more careful running in the halls. You might hurt yourself next time."


    Irish lowered her gaze, clutching the books tightly to her chest. "I didn''t mean to bump into you," she mumbled, her voice a mix of embarrassment and nervousness. "I was just in a hurry to¡ª" She stopped abruptly, realizing she was rambling. Her fingers tightened on the books as she glanced down, clearly flustered.


    "..."


    Arlon studied her briefly, taking in her demeanor. Unlike Irien''s quiet hesitation, Irish seemed livelier¡ªyet just as unsure around him. Her energy was palpable, though it came with a certain clumsiness that contrasted with her sister''s reserved presence.


    "I was just coming back from my room," Irish added quickly, filling the silence. "Irien and I¡­ we were in the library earlier, but I forgot a few things."


    Arlon glanced at the pile of books she clutched. "That''s a lot of books," Arlon observed evenly, his tone neutral as he glanced at the pile.


    Irish offered a faint, nervous smile. "I like reading," she admitted softly. "Irien does too. But¡­ we don''t get to visit the library often."


    "You should," Arlon said simply. "The library is a good place to learn¡ªand to think."


    Irish looked up at him, her expression softening as a flicker of relief replaced some of her nervousness. "Do you¡­ read a lot too?" she asked cautiously.


    "I do," Arlon replied. "Knowledge is a powerful tool."


    Irish''s grip on her books loosened slightly. "I didn''t expect you to say that," she murmured, almost to herself, as though surprised by his response.


    Arlon tilted his head slightly but chose not to press her further. Instead, he straightened and gestured for her to continue on her way. "You should return to the library. Irien may be waiting for you."


    Irish hesitated briefly before bowing her head. "Thank you¡­," she said softly. Her voice carried a note of uncertainty but also a quiet sincerity. Without another word, she hurried past him, her steps quicker and lighter than before.


    "..."


    Arlon watched her retreating form for a moment before turning and resuming his walk down the hallway. Irish slowed her pace as she glanced back, watching him disappear around the corner.


    Her heart fluttered slightly, still reeling from the unexpected collision. Yet, as she clutched her books to her chest, a strange sense of ease settled over her.


    She couldn''t explain it, but something told her that this wasn''t the last time she would cross paths with her brother.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª


    The sunlight streaming through the castle windows painted warm patterns on the walls as Dimitri made his way toward Arlon''s chamber. His sharp eyes caught a glimpse of two small figures ahead, their blonde hair shining like spun gold.


    "Sir Dimitri!" came a cheerful voice.


    Dimitri turned to see the twins, Irien and Irish, hurrying toward him. Irien''s steps were hesitant yet graceful, while Irish dashed forward with the boundless energy of youth.


    "Ladies Irien and Irish," Dimitri greeted with a small bow, his voice carrying a rare warmth. "It''s always a pleasure to see you."


    "We''re happy to see you too, Sir Dimitri!" Irish chirped, her bright blue eyes sparkling.


    Irien nodded shyly, clutching the hem of her dress. "You''re always so kind, Sir Dimitri."


    Dimitri smiled. "And you both seem to be in good health. That''s all I could hope for."


    The twins exchanged glances before Irien spoke, her voice soft but tinged with curiosity. "I met big brother Arlon in the library earlier. He¡­ seemed different."


    Dimitri''s brows rose in surprise. "Did he? How so, Lady Irien?"


    "Well," Irien hesitated, her fingers fiddling nervously. "He didn''t say much, but¡­ he didn''t ignore me either. It was¡­ nice."


    Irish chimed in, unable to contain her excitement. "I bumped into him in the hallway. He didn''t get mad or anything¡ªhe just asked if I was okay."


    Dimitri chuckled softly. "It seems you''ve both had quite eventful encounters with him."


    Irien tilted her head."Do you think we can talk to him more? He likes books too, doesn''t he?"


    Irish nodded eagerly. "Yeah! Maybe we can talk about the books we like!"


    Dimitri''s expression softened. "That sounds like a wonderful idea. Your brother may seem distant, but he isn''t unapproachable. Kindness and patience go a long way. Show him that you care, and I''m sure he''ll appreciate it."


    The twins brightened at his words, their eyes gleaming with newfound determination.


    "Thank you, Sir Dimitri," Irien said earnestly. "We''ll try our best."


    "I''m sure you will," Dimitri replied with a faint smile. "Now, if you''ll excuse me, I must go see your brother. But I''ll look forward to hearing more about your progress the next time we meet."


    The twins curtsied, their enthusiasm evident as they watched Dimitri continue on his way.


    As he walked, Dimitri couldn''t help but feel a flicker of hope. The twins'' desire to connect with Arlon was genuine, and though the young lord still had his walls firmly in place, Dimitri believed that those walls could one day crumble under the weight of small, persistent kindnesses.


    With that thought in mind, he approached Arlon''s chamber, ready to offer his own guidance to the man who seemed determined to carry the weight of the world alone.


    Plop¡ª


    Arlon sat at his desk, the ancient book lying untouched before him. Its faded pages promised answers, but his thoughts were elsewhere, circling the encounters that had left a strange unease in his chest.


    Irien, quiet and reserved, her presence in the library almost ethereal, had seemed like a fragile doll, animated by faint curiosity yet guarded by an invisible wall. Then there was Irish, her twin¡ªvivid and impulsive, colliding into him with all the energy of a whirlwind, yet faltering when vulnerability briefly broke through her bravado.


    "They''re just children," Arlon muttered, leaning back in his chair. Yet the gnawing feeling wouldn''t leave. Children they were, but they were also his sisters, an undeniable connection that the original Arlon had ignored.


    He turned his gaze to the book, its lines of ancient script blurry in the moonlight. He wanted to focus, to distract himself with its mysteries, but the quiet weight of the twins'' hesitant expressions kept creeping back into his mind.


    Knock¡ª knock¡ª


    A knock on the door interrupted his spiraling thoughts. "Come in," Arlon called, straightening in his chair.


    Creak¡ª


    The door opened, and Dimitri stepped inside, composed as ever. "My lord," he began, bowing slightly, "I''ve brought the documents you requested regarding the noble assembly. But judging by your expression, it seems your mind is occupied with something else."


    Arlon arched a brow but remained silent, gesturing for Dimitri to continue.


    "You''ve been sitting here for some time, yet I doubt you''ve made any progress with that book," Dimitri observed, his sharp eyes scanning the desk. He placed a stack of parchment down, his tone light but deliberate. "Perhaps your trip to the library yielded more than just texts to decipher?"


    Arlon''s frown deepened, but Dimitri pressed on, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "The young ladies," he said knowingly. "They''ve captured your attention, haven''t they?"


    "Captured my attention?" Arlon scoffed, leaning back. "They nearly knocked me over and fled. Hardly the kind of interaction worth noting."


    Dimitri''s smile widened slightly."But you''re thinking about them, aren''t you? They''re still your family."


    Arlon''s fingers drummed against the desk.


    "Family doesn''t mean anything if there''s no bond. I don''t know them, and they don''t know me."


    "Not yet," Dimitri said, his voice steady. "But bonds take effort, my lord. A simple gesture, a word of kindness¡ªit can mean more than you realize."


    Arlon exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "You expect me to be their doting older brother? That''s not who I am."


    "No," Dimitri replied calmly. "I expect you to be yourself, but to try. They''re young, my lord, and they look up to you, even if they don''t know how to show it."


    "They''ve done nothing wrong," Arlon murmured, his gaze drifting back to the book. "They''re just... caught in the mess of this family, like the rest of us."


    "That''s precisely why they need someone to guide them," Dimitri said. "They don''t need perfection. They just need someone willing to care."


    Arlon stared at the desk, his jaw tightening. The weight of Dimitri''s words settled heavily in the room, challenging the walls he had built around himself. Finally, he spoke, his voice low but resolute. "I''ll think about it."


    Dimitri inclined his head, satisfied. "That''s all I ask, my lord."


    As Dimitri exited the room, Arlon remained seated, his thoughts conflicted.The idea of connecting with the twins felt foreign, but Dimitri''s words lingered.


    Shaking his head, Arlon reached for the book, forcing himself to focus on the ancient script. Answers lay ahead, both in the pages and in the ties he had yet to rebuild. For now, he would deal with what he could control.