As the moments stretched on, the scene shifted to one of the Grand Palace's vast, regal living rooms. Towering pillars framed the space, their marble surfaces catching the pale glow of chandeliers above. Armored knights stood in disciplined silence along the walls, their presence heavy, unmoving. At their forefront stood their commander, Alaric Gravesend.
At the heart of it all sat their lord and master—one of the Chosen Heroes, Grand Duke Caelen Durandal. He rested calmly upon a lavish sofa, posture composed, one leg crossed over the other. With his right hand, he lifted a porcelain cup and took a measured sip of tea, as if time itself bent to his patience. He waited.
From the far end of the hall, a figure emerged.
Xavier.
He walked forward, accompanied by Miss Victoria, with Alcmena perched casually upon his shoulders. Each step echoed faintly against the polished floor, drawing every eye in the room toward him.
As Xavier approached, his chest tightened.
He had known—had been told—that Caelen was alive. Miss Victoria and Graviil had confirmed it long ago. And yet, seeing him here, standing before him in the flesh… it didn't feel real.
For so long, Xavier had believed Percival's words.
That Caelen… and Adam… were dead.
Before Xavier could speak, Caelen rose.
In one smooth motion, he set his cup aside, stepped forward, and lowered his head. His voice came out calm—cold, even—but laced with formal reverence.
"Greetings, Your Highness. It is an honor to be granted the privilege of standing before you today."
He straightened, meeting Xavier's gaze.
"You may not know who I am, as we have never met. But you knew my father… Adam Durandal. He spoke of you before his passing."
A brief pause.
"I am his son—Caelen Durandal."
He extended his right hand.
Xavier hesitated—only for a fraction of a second—before taking it.
The handshake was firm. Proper.
But something felt… off.
Make no mistake—Xavier was genuinely relieved. Truly happy. Adam's son was alive, standing before him, not only surviving but thriving. A commoner who had risen to nobility through sheer merit. That alone deserved respect.
And yet…
Every time Xavier met Caelen's eyes, a quiet unease crept through him.
It felt like staring into an abyss.
Cold. Empty. Vast.
There was no warmth behind them. No flicker of life. No trace of emotion. Only a hollow stillness, like a corpse forced to stand and breathe.
Even his appearance betrayed the contradiction—radiant orange hair like a blazing sun, sharp eyes reminiscent of an eagle, and a beauty that bordered on unreal. And yet, none of it reached his soul.
He looked like a puppet.
Something that moved, spoke, and smiled… only because it had been taught to.
And nothing more.
Caelen noticed.
Of course he did.
Xavier's unease wasn't subtle—not to him. It never was. Caelen could read people with frightening ease, peeling back their thoughts and intentions from the smallest shift in expression.
A cursed skill.
One he had been forced to learn.
Years of torture. Years of control. Years under Percival—the man who ruled his life like a god, dictating every breath, every thought, every fragment of his existence.
But that no longer mattered.
He hadn't come here to comfort Xavier.
Nor to pretend.
He came for one reason.
To see him.
The boy Percival was obsessed with.
The one he would bend the world for.
The so-called Chosen Hero of Excalibur.
"Uh…," Xavier murmured, scratching the side of his face, trying to ease the tension he didn't fully understand. "I'm really glad to finally meet you, Caelen. Your father was a great man… so I always thought you would be too."
He smiled—awkward, but sincere.
"And it seems I was right."
For just a moment—barely noticeable—Caelen's smile faltered.
A crack.
Then it was gone.
Replaced instantly with the same flawless, practiced expression.
"I'm honored you think so highly of me, Your Highness," he replied smoothly.
"Truly."
Xavier waved a hand lightly, letting out a small laugh. "It's nothing like that, really."
Then, wanting to move forward, he asked, "So… did you come here because of what your father said about me? If so, I really appreciate it."
Caelen shook his head slightly.
"Not entirely."
His tone remained calm, measured.
"I did come for a similar reason. But more importantly, I wished to establish a foundation between us—and the other heroes."
His eyes remained fixed on Xavier.
"We will be fighting alongside one another for an unknown length of time. It would be… inefficient… to begin without mutual understanding."
Xavier blinked.
Then nodded slowly.
"I see…"
He hadn't thought of that.
Not like this.
A small smile returned to his face—gentler this time.
"Well… in that case, we can start as friends, right?"
He extended his hand once more.
This time, there was no hesitation.
Just warmth.
Pure, unfiltered warmth—radiating from him so naturally it felt almost unreal.
Caelen looked at him.
And in that moment… he understood.
So this is why.
So this is why Percival is obsessed with you.
It wasn't power.
It wasn't status.
It wasn't just destiny.
It was this.
Xavier's presence—his eyes, his smile, the way he spoke—everything about him was genuine. Unfiltered. Untainted.
Like staring directly into the sun.
A person like this… truly exists?
The thought lingered.
Then deepened.
Of course it does.
Evil has always sought to crush what is pure.
Shadows exist to consume light.
And Percival… was no exception.
Someone like Xavier—someone born with a pure heart for no reason at all, who remained unchanged even as he grew, even as he learned, even as he suffered—
…was something the world itself would inevitably try to break.
Caelen extended his hand once more, meeting Xavier's without hesitation this time.
Outwardly, his expression remained unchanged—calm, polite, almost welcoming.
But beneath that carefully crafted smile… something twisted.
Disgust.
Faint. Fleeting. Hidden.
Someone like you…
Of course you'd offer friendship so easily.
Caelen's thoughts turned cold.
People like Xavier—pure, good-willed, untouched—always shared the same flaw.
Naivety.
They trusted too quickly.
Acted without calculation.
Believed the world would reflect their kindness.
And because of that…
They made mistakes.
Fatal ones.
They spared enemies.
They chose emotion over logic.
They hesitated when it mattered most.
And in the end…
People died because of them.
This boy…
He will meet that same fate.
It is inevitable.
Caelen could feel it.
No—he could smell it.
Death lingered around Xavier like an invisible fog.
A scent he knew all too well.
That was simply how fate worked.
Anything that remained untouched by blood… by misery… by the kind of despair that shattered a person beyond repair—
…became an anomaly.
And anomalies were never allowed to last.
Not by fate.
Not by darkness.
Not even by the Devil himself.
Xavier tilted his head slightly, confusion crossing his face as Caelen seemed to drift away.
"Caelen…?" he called gently.
Caelen blinked, snapping back.
"…My apologies," he said, his tone steady as ever. "It was nothing."
Without lingering, his gaze shifted to Miss Victoria.
"It has been a while, hasn't it… Aunty?" he said. "How have you been?"
Victoria smiled warmly. "I've been well. And your mother? How has she been lately?"
"Adjusting," Caelen replied flatly.
A brief pause followed.
"But… she has become more expressive recently. With her words. Her emotions."
He looked away slightly.
"I believe she will be fine… if that continues."
Another pause.
"…Especially since I will not be there for the next four years."
"I see," Victoria said softly. "Then I truly hope everything goes well—for both of you."
"…As do I."
Victoria's expression brightened slightly. "Say, have you crossed paths with my niece, Teslaine?"
"Teslaine…?" Caelen repeated, brows narrowing faintly.
"You've met her before," Victoria said with a small laugh. "Did you forget that quickly?"
"…I'm afraid I did," Caelen admitted without hesitation. "I have difficulty remembering the names and faces of those I've recently met."
Victoria giggled. "Well, if you'd like, I can take you to see her again. She should be at the Imperial Research & Engineering Directorate—as usual."
She tilted her head. "Would you like to go?"
"I see no reason not to," Caelen replied calmly.
He stood.
That was enough.
He had seen Xavier.
Understood him.
For now… that was sufficient.
"Well," Caelen said, turning slightly, "it was a pleasure meeting you, Your Highness."
"I hope we meet again before our departure to the Elven Realm."
A pause.
"And until then… I wish you well."
His eyes shifted—subtly.
"…You as well, Lord Alcmena."
Xavier froze.
His entire body tensed instantly.
How…?
How did he know—?
Could he see through the disguise?
Before the thoughts could spiral further, a calm voice echoed in his mind.
"There is no need to worry, Xavier."
Alcmena.
He remained sprawled lazily beside him, as if nothing had changed.
"I have met that boy before. He has seen my true form."
"…Oh."
Xavier exhaled quietly.
"…Next time, could you tell me beforehand?" he muttered. "I'd rather not be caught off guard like that."
Alcmena sighed.
"…Very well."
Just as Caelen turned to leave—
The doors swung open.
Voices flooded in, lively and unrestrained, breaking the stillness of the room.
Xavier's companions entered almost all at once, their energy clashing violently with the quiet tension that had settled moments before.
They had come looking for him.
But instead—
They stopped.
Because someone else stood there.
Caelen.
He found his path blocked.
Jupiter.
The two stood face to face.
Neither moved.
And yet…
Something shifted.
The air tightened.
An invisible pressure built between them—sharp, sudden, suffocating.
Their eyes locked.
And in that instant… something deeper stirred.
Something instinctive.
Violent.
Unexplainable.
As if their very existences rejected one another.
"Jupiter…?" Jason's voice came softly from behind, cautious.
Caelen did not look away.
Jupiter.
So this is him.
One of the Chosen Heroes of Fate.
Like me.
His gaze flickered briefly, assessing the others with quiet precision.
Crimson-rose hair.
Ethereal beauty.
Princess Misaki of the Yamato lineage.
No doubt.
Only their bloodline bore such color.
"Caelen…?"
A startled voice cut through the tension.
Sophie.
Her eyes widened. "Caelen!? Is that really you?"
Misaki turned toward her. "You know him?"
"Of course I do!" Sophie stepped forward. "We met in London—he's Sir Adam Durandal's son!"
"What!?" Misaki's eyes widened. "Adam's son? Then that means—"
"Yeah," Sophie nodded quickly. "That's Caelen Durandal. His lost son."
Recognition spread.
Emily and Aria leaned forward, eyes lighting up.
"Caelen! How have you been!?"
Even Jack, usually composed, showed clear surprise.
But their warmth—
Their excitement—
It didn't ease the tension.
If anything…
It made it worse.
Because beneath it all—
Something else was rising.
Something far more dangerous.
A storm… waiting to break.
"Excuse me," Caelen said, his voice low and cold. "Would you mind stepping aside? You're in my way."
Jupiter didn't move at first.
For a brief moment, the two simply stared at one another—silent, unmoving—before Jupiter finally shifted and stepped aside.
"...Go ahead."
Caelen walked past him.
Calm. Unhurried.
And as he did—
He leaned in, just enough for his words to reach only Jupiter.
"I can see it," he whispered. "The power behind your left eye."
Jupiter's breath hitched.
"You think that eyepatch hides it?" Caelen continued softly. "It doesn't. I've grown used to that scent… that unholy, chaotic presence you're carrying."
A pause.
"I know what it is."
His voice lowered further.
"A curse."
Jupiter's pupils shrank.
"I don't know how you obtained it," Caelen went on, tone steady, almost indifferent. "But whatever you believe it to be… you're mistaken."
A step forward.
Then another.
"Do not rely on it."
A quiet warning.
The only one.
"It may feel like an ally… but it isn't."
A faint exhale.
"It's waiting."
"To devour your consciousness… and everything you think you are."
Jupiter stood frozen.
"That is precisely why I never touched mine," Caelen added, almost as an afterthought. "Despite possessing the same kind of power."
A brief glance over his shoulder.
"We are alike."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Two sides of the same coin."
Then, colder—
"Only those with darkness in their hearts can truly draw upon that power."
A final step forward.
"What you do next… is up to you."
Jupiter's mind spiraled.
How…?
How does he know?
Who the hell does he think he is—?
"Hey—wait a minu—"
Jupiter reached out.
His fingers barely grazed the edge of Caelen's fur-lined coat—
And then—
It happened.
A presence.
For a single, fleeting instant—
Something monstrous erupted from Caelen.
An aura so cold… so overwhelming… it felt as though the air itself had died.
The room fell silent.
Completely.
Jupiter's body locked in place.
His breath caught.
His heart stuttered.
Sweat poured down his face as an instinct deeper than thought screamed at him—
Don't move.
Don't breathe.
Don't resist.
Everyone felt it.
That pressure.
That suffocating, unnatural weight.
As if their very souls had been seized… and crushed for a moment too long.
Then—
It vanished.
As if it had never been there at all.
Jupiter stood frozen, trembling slightly, unable to even lift his arm.
A warning.
Nothing more.
A line drawn—clear and absolute.
There was a hierarchy here.
And Caelen had just made sure it was understood.
"I'll catch up with you all later, ladies," Caelen said calmly, not even turning around. "There's someone I need to meet."
A small pause.
"So we'll leave our reunion for another time."
And just like that—
He walked away.
Each step quiet.
Measured.
Unbothered.
The moment he left the room, the oppressive presence disappeared with him.
Silence lingered in its wake.
"Jupiter…?" Jason's voice came again, softer this time. More cautious. "Are you okay? You look… pale."
Jupiter didn't respond immediately.
His thoughts were in chaos.
He had kept it hidden.
The power behind his left eye.
No one was supposed to know.
And yet—
That bastard…
He saw right through it.
How?
How is that even possible?
And what did he mean… by saying they were the same?
"Jupiter?"
Jason grabbed his shoulder, shaking him lightly.
Jupiter finally snapped back.
His face was pale.
Cold sweat clung to his skin.
"…Yeah," he said, forcing steadiness into his voice. "I'm fine."
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
A beat.
"Don't worry about it."
He straightened slightly, forcing himself to regain composure.
"Let's just go to Xavier. We were supposed to hang out today, right?"
Jason hesitated—then nodded.
"…Alright."
From a distance, Alcmena remained sprawled across the sofa, his eyes half-lidded.
But his thoughts were anything but relaxed.
That aura…
So that's the boy.
The reincarnation of the Great Sword Forger.
And yet…
Even knowing that—
"…He's far too strong for his age."
His gaze lingered toward the exit.
"To say he stands leagues above my Xavier… would be an understatement."
A quiet breath.
"…What a monster."