-----
Hurried footsteps echoed from outside the room.
Kael, standing before the door, gently opened it and saw two servants walking a bit ahead, their backs turned to him.
"The young lord is back—he completed the mission in just two weeks!" one of the female servants whispered excitedly.
The male servant beside her sighed, his face tight with worry.
"Is your head filled only with Master Raven? Did you not hear who's accompanying him?"
"Hmph, so what? The young master will surpass even the former patriarch. What's there to be impressed about?" Their voices faded as they disappeared down the corridor.
Kael turned left, walking in the opposite direction.
After a while, he reached the building's entrance. Two servants were stationed there, and upon seeing Kael approach, they bowed and opened the doors in unison.
Sunlight poured over Kael's entire body, but he didn't squint or look away. He stood still, unbothered, taking in the view before him.
"Mia, is the dining hall ready?" A familiar voice reached Kael's ears.
It was Attendant Ron—the servant who had guided Kael to his room earlier. He carried himself with a certain air of authority, though tension still clung to him.
Hearing the doors open behind him, Ron turned and met Kael's ghostly gaze.
"Ah, Sir Kael!" Worry flashed across his face. "Is everything alright?" he asked, stepping closer.
Kael gave a simple nod and took a few slow steps forward.
The courtyard around him was busy with servants in white robes, cleaning the remnants of the previous day's celebration.
The festivities had stretched late into the night, and only this morning had the staff begun to tidy everything up.
"Is there anything I can help you with? Sir, you might not know, but some very important guests will be arriving soon," the young servant explained.
"I know."
Ron blinked, slightly puzzled by the short reply.
"Don't mind me. Please, continue your work," Kael said, before heading toward the gates.
Just like that, he passed the two guards standing on either side, and without looking back, continued on until he was out of sight.
---
Some time earlier, inside the Dawnblade Estate's meeting room, a few elders sat with relaxed expressions.
Liora's face, however, showed clear worry.
The head physician, Roderic, was the first to break the silence that filled the room.
"While I understand your concern, isn't this a moment we should be celebrating? Young Master Raven has returned with an astonishing achievement this time," he said, looking toward the Matriarch.
"Although he suffered greatly, how can one grow without setbacks? We ought to reward him handsomely," Sebastian, seated across the table, added in support.
Alden, the elder in charge of public affairs, nodded in agreement but remained silent.
Yselda, seated beside the Matriarch, seemed lost in thought, her expression distant.
The spot next to Liora felt strangely empty. It was because Lyssara, always accompanying the matriarch, was nowhere to be seen.
Liora listened quietly to their suggestions before finally speaking, her unease clear in her voice.
"A message arrived earlier—from Queen Selene."
That single sentence was enough to shift the entire mood in the room.
"High Commander Arion is coming, along with two Mage Commanders."
SLAM!
Yselda's head twitched, she was brought back to the present by the sudden sound.
Alden's once-relaxed face twisted into anger, turning red like a beet. He couldn't help but clench his fist and slam it against the table.
"This—does this make any sense?!" he shouted.
The others remained unfazed. They were used to his short temper. Still, none of them could deny the shock settling in their chests.
Who was High Commander Arion? A rank 6 warrior, commander of all knightly forces in the Astrea Kingdom, and one who answered directly to the Crown. A pillar of strength capable of subduing a mid-sized clan on his own.
To send him—along with two Mage Commanders—this was nothing short of the strong suppressing the weak. A blatant provocation.
Those three alone could pressure the current Dawnblades into passivity.
But was it so simple to mobilize such high-ranking military power?
Of course not. Which raised the real question: why this sudden intrusion?
All the elders could guess the answer easily.
It was the previous disturbance in the [Forest].
Alden exhaled loudly and rubbed his temple, forcing himself to calm down.
"I apologize, Matriarch. I misspoke."
"No need, I understand," Liora replied simply. How could she not? She was more shocked than anyone in the conference hall.
Though she was the Matriarch, she was still young and had held the position for the shortest time.
Over the past year, she had faced no shortage of difficult decisions and high-profile guests. But someone of this level—someone with such prestige and authority—was rare. It was the first time she'd felt pressure this heavy.
The only reason she could hold her ground was her natural talent for politics, and the experience she'd gained as the patriarch's woman.
"The reason they are coming this time is Kael. After all, Queen Astrea was the one who set up the barriers, such a reaction is expected. But to send the High Commander..." Liora seemed to fall into deep thought.
The elders glanced at each other, exchanging meaningful gazes.
After a few seconds, she continued.
"According to the letter, they'll be arriving before long. Alden, inform Thorne and get everything ready." She gestured with her gloved hands as she spoke.
"Sebas, can you let Sir Kael know that he'll be needed later?"
Before the meeting was over, one by one everyone stood, and Sebastian turned to face Liora.
"Of course, Matriarch," he said with a slight bow and a smile.
This action of leaving was not out of disregard for the matriarch. Preparations for such an important guest are delicate and the amount of time they had was already short.
Just as they began moving toward the door, Liora was reminded of something.
"Ah—" a small sound escaped her lips.
"Roderic, tell Vek to sit still. The moment he hears about the High Commander's arrival, he'll try to go greet him."
Roderic—usually tense and meek—showed a sly, confident smile.
"Not to worry, Matriarch. He won't be going anywhere..." he drawled, and with a quiet chuckle, made his way toward the door.
("Good luck, Elder Vek...") All the other elders couldn't help but share the same thought.
---
Within the inner walls of the Dawnblade Estate, two lines of warriors and mages had formed. Some looked anxious, others expectant, while a few wore serious or indifferent expressions.
At the far end of the line, in front of the estate's grand doors, the elders and the Matriarch stood in a semi-circle, ready to receive their guests.
The once-littered courtyard was now spotless, cleaned to perfection by the servants. Inside the dining hall, an extravagant feast awaited—some dishes already laid out, others still being prepared.
"Arriving..." one of the guards near the gates announced, lowering his head in a respectful bow.
Following the lead of the two guards, the entire line of warriors and mages bowed sharply, a unified show of utmost respect.
Only the elders and the Matriarch remained upright, standing tall with their gazes fixed beyond the gates.
The estate sat atop a hill, and slowly, the top of someone's head crested the slope. Following that first gray-haired figure, more began to appear, accompanied by the heavy sound of footsteps.
Two groups had arrived, walking together toward the gates.
The metallic clang of armor grew louder, and as the groups came into view, their identities became clear from their attire.
At the front stood a tall man with ash-gray hair and thick eyebrows. Wrinkles lined his face, and a long scar ran from his left cheek down to his chin. His neck was thick, and even beneath his armor, his body looked immensely muscular.
High Commander Arion. Everyone recognized him at once.
He wore plated armor bearing the insignia of the Astrea Kingdom—a golden pentagram flanked by a white, wing-like design on either side.
His left hand rested on the scabbard at his hip, while his right arm was draped casually around the shoulders of a young man, much shorter than him.
The height difference wasn't because the young man was short—Arion was simply enormous.
The young man had sharp features, short golden hair, and deep blue eyes. His identity was unmistakable, even without the insignia on his leather vest—Raven Dawnblade.
Behind them stood two mages, dressed mostly in cloth. One was a man with light blue hair and closed, slit-like eyes. The other was a woman with brown hair tinged with red, a reddish hue to her skin, and round, crimson eyes that resembled a snake's. Above them, two thin eyebrows arched sharply.
It was clear at a glance—she wasn't human.
Finally, further behind, a group of mages and warriors appeared with the Dawnblade's symbol on their equipment. They were more spread out but followed closely. Each of them looked young, yet their eyes reflected experience and confidence.
As they walked between the two lines of assembled Dawnblade troops, some glanced around, recognizing familiar faces, while others looked straight ahead at the elders waiting to receive them.
Liora bowed slightly, showing her respect toward Arion. To make a clan matriarch bow upon arrival—this was the authority of a High Commander.
"We greet High Commander Arion!" Liora and several elders spoke in unison.
The commander, already smiling, responded in kind.
"You're too kind, Lady Liora. I've long heard of your situation—please accept my condolences."
After a long round of greetings and formalities, everyone began moving inside toward the dining hall.
The mood shifted to something more festive, with conversation flowing and plates being filled. Closer to the head of the table sat the elders and the commanders, along with Raven. Naturally, the first seat was reserved for the Matriarch.
"Congratulations on young Raven's achievement this time! I heard about it on the way here, and I must say, I'm impressed!" Arion said loudly, raising a delicately decorated glass of wine.
Immediately, everyone followed suit, grabbing their wine glasses and raising them in a perfect mimicry of his movement. Who would dare not to?
Even Liora, slightly slower than the rest to display her authority, raised her glass.
"Thank you, sir. It was truly a pleasant surprise when we heard the news," she replied, matching his tone.
Arion chuckled and placed his right arm on Raven's head, ruffling his golden hair.
He saw the young man sitting next to him as a grandchild, after all he was already old.
Raven couldn't help but nervously laugh. Every Dawnblade at the table knew, this was not Raven's usual character. His fierce and arrogant demeanor was nowhere to be seen.
He'd always been praised as a genius, showered with compliments since he was young. But this moment felt different.
It was as if he were a wild cat, trapped under the heavy paw of a mountain tiger, and forced to stay obedient.
Similar nervous smiles appeared on both Raven and Liora Dawnblade. From this scene, it was clear—Raven resembled his mother the most.
"These words carry great meaning coming from you, Sir Arion. I heard you also helped treat his wounds. Young Master Raven is truly lucky!" The compliments continued for a while.
Liora didn't refer to Raven as her son—this was, after all, an official meeting, even if the atmosphere didn't quite match.
After a while, Arion carefully placed his utensils down and stood.
The rest followed suit, standing one after the other. Some tried to fit in one last bite, while others drank as they rose.
"Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Liora, but unfortunately, I have orders to return quickly. I hope you understand," he said confidently, leaving no room for disagreement.
"Of course, you must be very busy. The pleasure was all ours this time," the Matriarch replied with a bright smile. However, beneath her gentle exterior, a deep worry lingered as she anticipated his next words.
"Is the matter mentioned in the letter ready?" he asked.
Kael. That was the purpose of their visit, as outlined in the message.
But Kael had left just before Sebastian had a chance to speak with him.
Liora was about to apologize when—
The door swung open from the outside.
"So you were here!" A loud, deep voice filled the entire room.
Some looked on in amazement, while others exchanged worried glances toward the door.
Only one man, Roderic, pressed his lips, a vein throbbing on his forehead.
"How are you awake already?" he muttered, his voice low with frustration.
The man who entered was none other than Vek, supported up by clutches.
Gahaha! A hearty laugh filled the room once more.
Vek clasped his arms in front of his chest and gave a heartfelt greeting.
"Sir Arion, it is an honor!"
Arion turned with a gratifying smile and replied while clasping his hands in a similar fashion to Vek, "The honor is all mine, Elder Vek. I have heard of your contributions."
He glanced back toward Roderic, who was barely holding himself back from lunging forward, and continued, "But it seems my visit this time has caused some issues."
Many of the elders, having suspected this would happen, couldn't help but chuckle.
Arion's eye twitched, with a faint glow appearing in his eyes. He gently placed his left arm on his scabbard, slowly as to not raise any suspicion. However, many of the elders immediately noticed and exchanged glances.
Amidst the commotion, two more people entered the room.
This was Sebastian and Kael. Sebastian wore a relieved expression as he looked toward the Matriarch, while Kael walked leisurely with his arms behind his back.
Upon seeing the two enter, Arion walked toward them with confident steps. Behind him followed the two Mage Commanders.
"Greetings, Sir Kael. My name is Arion Rubyhilt," he introduced himself first. He bowed and extended his arm, letting it hover right in front of Kael.
("He... bowed?") Liora couldn't help but think back to the moment she greeted him and had to bow down herself.
Everyone's expression showed shock. The High Commander, who stood proud before the Matriarch, now bowed his head while greeting the young man in front of him.
Some were suspicious, others simply astounded. This movement was not done due to the height difference, that much was clear.
However, Kael's next action was equally jaw-dropping.
From behind his back, he extended one arm, as if to shake Arion's hand.
Plop.
A deep red droplet hit the ground.
Blood!
As his sleeve rolled back, a bloody hand emerged.
In the sudden silence, the clatter of plate and cutlery rang out—it was Alden, who'd stumbled and struck a dish.
Faces in the hall tightened in shock. This was deeply disrespectful. Even the usually stoic Yselda blinked, her eyes widening.
Even the light blue eyebrows of the mage behind Arion frowned slightly, while the female mage stared with a hint of disdain.
The blood was fresh, concealed until this moment. Not even Sebastian had noticed. If he had—how could he have allowed it?
("Sir Kael, what in the world are you doing?") was the meaning behind Sebastian's dumbfounded look.
Arion, as if seeing nothing wrong, shook his hand with both of his, a warm and sincere expression on his face.
"Then, shall we move out?"
Kael let out a sound of approval and retracted his hand.
Turning back, the commander clasped his arms in front of his chest once more and addressed the Matriarch.
"Lady Liora, we shall take our leave now."
Those words hinted that they did not want to be accompanied back. The Matriarch, immediately hiding her expression, smiled and replied, "Have a safe trip."
Everyone's eyes were focused on Arion's red hands, even Liora looked at a newly formed drop of blood falling to the ground as she said her goodbyes.
Four people moved toward the exit, with noone daring to make a single sound.
Clack. The door closed behind them.
"This..." Sebastian, who brought Kael to the scene, was prepared to take the blame for not noticing that something was wrong.
But Liora's mind was racing because of a different matter.
From the letter, she and the others understood that an investigation would take place due to Kael's mysterious origin.
They were even prepared to defy the orders in the letter if the attitude had been forceful or rude. Kael was, after all, a pillar they leaned on to navigate through a tough situation.
However, to think...
"He was escorted out?" Liora could no longer hold it in.
-----