The ballroom quieted as King Thane Glayder stepped up to the elevated dais, the flickering chandelier light casting long shadows behind him.
The queen stood silently beside him, composed and distant. On the other side, Prince Blaine Glayder smiled with a practiced calm.
King Thane's Speech:
"Lords and ladies of Sapin, nobles of honor and heritage—on this night, we do not merely celebrate a passing of years, but the enduring spine of our kingdom. Every house, every banner here represents the bones and blood of Sapin's strength.
We have seen peace in our time, yes. But peace, my friends, is not a permanent gift. It is a blade—we must polish it, temper it, and always keep it sheathed by will, not by rust.
Tonight, while our children laugh and our cups overflow, let us not forget the forge that shaped us: discipline, duty, and unity.
A kingdom that rests on old victories is a kingdom already fading. Let us instead become a whetstone for the next generation—sharpening their minds, their magic, and their purpose. Let tonight be a feast for joy. But let tomorrow be the beginning of our resolve.
Long live Sapin!"
As Varay and Bairon were listening, soft snore interrupted.
Alden sat slumped in his chair, eyes closed, head tilted back in an exaggerated pose of slumber. A hand hung limply from the armrest, his empty glass tilted just enough to suggest he'd expired from boredom.
Varay elbowed him.
Alden cracked an eye open. "Did he finish? Are we at war with the elves again?"
Before either could scold him, trumpets sounded again—and the King's voice echoed through the chamber:
"Now, let the dancing session of celebration, commence!"
The room came alive with movement. Nobles stood. Musicians shifted in place. Parents gestured toward their sons and daughters, whispering names and nodding toward the trio at their table.
Alden and Varay stood up immediately. They looked at each other and understood the same intention as they nodded in agreement.
"Why are you standing—?" Bairon began, then followed their gaze to see at least five different noble families pointing directly at them.
"You wish to live?" Alden asked, voice serious.
"Yes?", Bairon replied in confusion.
"Then follow us.". Varay finished.
He didn't need to be told twice. The three slipped off through a side corridor, passed a cluster of servants wheeling a fruit platter, and slipped out onto the cool marble balcony beyond the ballroom's golden glow.
"So… is the dancing session really that terrible?", Bairon asked.
"Imagine being shoved toward a herd of painted peacocks, all eyeing you like you're the last roast on the banquet table. Now imagine your parents smiling like executioners while whispering in your ear, 'Go dance with that one, her father owns three mines,' or 'That one's mother sits on the Royal Council.' The parents of those noble girls coming for you all had intentions of taking advantage of you for 'potential future connections'. For Varay's case, it would be the boys. ", Alden explained.
"You get it too right Varay?", Alden asked.
Varay shrugged. "I just don't like dancing. And I definitely don't like those boys trying to act charming."
"Alright, still valid.", Alden replied.
"...What do you mean by 'potential future connections'?", Bairon asked.
"Most of those girls or boys aren't there to dance. They're there to hook someone—usually under orders from their parents. You start spending time with them, and suddenly they're visiting your estate, bringing gifts, currying favor… And before you know it, you're halfway to a political marriage that benefits no one but their parents." Alden explained as he looked at Bairon and Varay who were dumb found at his words.
"You two….didn't know about all these?", Alden asked.
"Is it one of those things in the subject of politics right?", Bairon asked.
"Yes but it isn't taught in books or by tutors….Oh my sweet summer children… Nevermind, just think my reason is similar to Varay's." ,Alden said.
The trio emerged onto the moonlit balcony with quiet urgency, Alden taking the lead and closing the tall glass doors behind them like a man barring the gates of a besieged fortress.
He took a deep breath, looked up at the moonlight, and declared in an exaggeratedly poetic tone:
"Comrades, we have survived the opening assault of the Social War. Let us now savor this flawless scenery of silent peace, blessed by the moon's light itself—"
"Alden, we've got company," Bairon said dryly.
The other two turned. Two figures stood by the railing: a lean boy with stormy gray-blue eyes and neatly combed dark hair, and a tall girl whose build rivaled Bairon's, clad in a formal coat that strained slightly at her shoulders.
The boy grinned. "Well, look who else discovered the last sanctuary in this whole giant palace."
Alden immediately recognized the crest stitched onto the boy's chest.
"Lord Bladeheart," he said with mock solemnity. "Apologies if we've encroached on your fortress of solitude. Desperation drops our manners."
"No offense taken, my lord," the boy replied with equal humor. "I'd be a poor host to turn away House Wykes, House Aurae, and the kingdom's rising prodigy himself—Alden Valerius."
The boy gave a short bow. "Kaspian Bladeheart," he introduced. "And this wincing sentinel beside me is Aliya Maxwell."
"Bairon Wykes," Bairon said shortly.
"Varay Aurae," Varay added with a polite nod.
"Well, you already know me," Alden said, extending a hand to Kaspian. "A pleasure."
The handshake was firm, relaxed. There was an easy confidence in both boys—the practiced charm of those trained to wear masks early.
"Before we continue," Alden said, "do you mind if we drop the formal titles for the sake of comfort while our parents aren't here?"
"Gladly," Kaspian laughed. "Aliya and I've been doing it for years. Saves breath and headaches."
Alden said with a smile. "Another shared brilliance."
Aliya, however, said nothing.
Her gaze flicked briefly toward Alden when he introduced himself—but whatever friendliness had touched her features vanished the moment his name passed his lips. She folded her arms tighter and looked away.
Alden noticed, but didn't comment.
Kaspian did, though—not directly. "So, are you three friends? Or did Sapin's next generation just decide to team up tonight?"
"Still acquainting," Bairon said plainly.
"I'd not say we're friends yet," Varay added. "But we're working on it."
"Exactly what they said," Alden finished with a shrug.
Aliya crossed her arms and regarded Alden with cool scrutiny.
"So you're truly that Alden Valerius," she said at last, stepping closer, narrowing her eyes like she was inspecting a weapon for flaws. The sudden shift caught everyone off guard.
Alden responded with a polite nod, unbothered by her proximity.
"Just as Kaspian introduced. I had the honor of being trained under your father during the royal tutelage. His methods…" He tilted his head thoughtfully. "Brutal, but effective. I owe a great deal to General Maxwell. He helped shape a key part of my training—and also gave me an edge in my adventurer examination. Please give him my regards, if I don't get the chance myself tonight."
Aliya snorted faintly. "You're a lot more talkative than I expected. And way too creepy when seen up close with those eyes of yours…"
Alden sighed, placing a hand on his heart. "The third time this evening someone mentioned about my eyes, thank you for your 'kind words'."
Across from him, Bairon and Varay covered their mouths, giggling quietly.
Aliya's tone was cold: "My father will hear your thanks from your own words."
With that, she turned her attention to Bairon and Varay—and her posture shifted. Still stiff, still disciplined, but the edge of ice had melted just enough for camaraderie.
"A pleasure to meet you both," she said, voice now steady but more open. "Our fathers fought in several campaigns together. Hopefully that tradition will carry on with us."
Varay inclined her head. "Let's hope so. I've read reports of General Maxwell's campaigns—his maneuvers near the Elenoir border were studied in our house."
Bairon nodded curtly. "My father speaks of him with respect. Rare, for him."
"Then it's mutual," Aliya said. "Our houses have shared battlefields. That matters."
While the military heirs compared notes on campaign histories, training regimens, and battlefield records, Alden turned slightly aside with Kaspian.
"Well," Kaspian said with a grin, "that went better than expected. Aliya usually needs a day or two before she speaks more than five words to someone."
"It seems that she bears some hostility towards me, and I'm wondering if you may have any idea about it.", Alden spoke to Kaspian with a low voice so Aliya wouldn't hear it.
"Ah, I may know the reason. But as her friend, I must decline sharing her privacy with you.", Kaspian replied, "She may act like so towards you but I can assure you she doesn't have any actual bad intentions, Alden."
"As long as it doesn't concern my safety and rights then.", Alden shrugged his shoulders.
They leaned against the stone balustrade, both gazing into the courtyard lights below.
Kaspian asked. "So you've been diving dungeons already as I heard, the news spreading throughout the kingdom to the confirmation from Aliya's dad."
Alden smirked. "Yup."
Kaspian looked wistful. "You are just so lucky ,dude. I can't wait until I awakened as a mage, finishing Xyrus Academy then going straight to the Guild for my assignment as adventurer. I'm the second son, so my brother gets the house and all the responsibilities. I just want to get out of this cramped place, go outside to the Beast Glades and make a name for myself."
"A wonderful dream. But I must warn you first as someone who has truly experienced it , speaking is way easier than doing you know.", Alden responded with a smirk.
"Oh I definitely am training my ass off to back up my goal. In contrast, it must be so goddamn easy for you, the golden boy blessed with talents to awaken so early, with your core now already rivaling a seasoned adventurer, cleaning dungeons easily and quickly like wiping desserts off the plate.",Kaspian said.
"Pardon but am I accidentally causing envy for you?", Alden asked with a witty tone.
"Nah, I actually only stop at "jealousy level". Nothing personal to you, Alden.", Kaspian explained before leaning closer, whispering: "The only envy towards you here is coming from Aliya."
"What did you say Kas?!", Aliya suddenly asked Kaspian, surprising everyone.
"No-Nothing!", Kaspian tried to act innocent.
Aliya gave him a warning stare before continuing her conversation with Bairon and Varay.
"A risky move that almost caused your life, buddy.", Alden shook his head.
"Indeed it was.", Kaspian said.
"By the way, speaking of Xyrus Academy, are you applying to it?", Kaspian asked.
"I'm already set," Alden said, adjusting his collar. "My parents finally relented after a conversation with Principal Goodsky herself. She was… persistent. Trained me personally at the royal tutelage, then made her case to them in person. Promised she'd shape me into something this kingdom's never seen."
Kaspian turned sharply toward him. "Wait, you were trained by Cynthia Goodsky at Royal tutelage??!"
That caught the others' ears too. Aliya's head turned. Bairon and Varay leaned in.
Alden gave a faint smile at their collective attention. "Yeah, I even got to spar with her once… well, she let me think I had a chance before turning me into a 7-year old punching bag. And she always constantly reminded me that I have the ability to make changes in this world, come to study at her Academy and she will abide any criteria that I set, blah blah, negotiation stuff to lure me in."
Their reactions were immediate.
Bairon leaned back in awe. "Principal Cynthia Goodsky?"
Aliya said: "The strongest wind mage in all of Sapin."
Varay whispered, "I heard she managed to stand on par with an Elven Lance during the Second War…"
Bairon asked:"Why didn't you tell me earlier when I asked you about the tutelage?"
"There were like way too many famous figures trained and taught me in the tutelage, and you surely didn't ask for the specific.", Alden rolled his eyes.
They spent the next several minutes trading rumors and gossip about the principal and her fabled Xyrus Academy—its elite magic classes, advanced teaching and training, both in theory and practicality. Kaspian declared he couldn't wait until they had the Beast Glades Excursion in Team-Fighting Mechanics class . Bairon said he was most concerned with the power progress: core levels and combat skills that the school had to offer. Varay brought up the scholar-combat mage duel records.
Alden quietly enjoyed their growing excitement. For a few fleeting minutes, they weren't heirs or weapons in training—they were just teenagers dreaming out loud.
Eventually, Alden stood and dusted off his coat. "Excuse me a moment. I need to make a quick trip to the bathroom before this night draws blood from my bladder."
No one objected, being wordless at his nasty choice of words by his own humor. He slipped back inside, the ballroom now in full swing—laughter, spinning gowns, clinking glasses, polite applause for every turn of the waltz.
He navigated the crowd with practiced grace. But just as he passed near a marble pillar, someone crashed into him.
A girl stumbled and hit the floor with a startled yelp. Alden took only a step back, barely shaken.
"I'm so, so sorry m'lord!" the girl said frantically, scrambling to her knees. "I was trying to get away—this Clarell boy sneezed right on my dress while we danced and it was disgusting!—I need to clean it—"
Alden, calmly unfazed, extended a hand. "No need to panic, my lady. I've survived worse collisions."
The girl hesitated, then took his hand and stood. She blinked at him in surprise. "Thank you m'lord."
"It's not the first time I've been run over," Alden said mildly. "Shall we go together? I'm heading in the same direction."
She nodded quickly, cheeks flushed. "Y-yes, thank you. I—I appreciate it."
Alden noticed the sigil stitched on her sash: a silver quill crossing a hammer: House Greystone.
They parted momentarily for their respective visits, then regrouped near the hallway. She gave a sheepish smile.
"My name is Amy Greystone. Sorry again if I caused trouble, my lord."
"No harm done," Alden replied. "And it's a pleasure to meet you, lady Greystone. I'm Alden of house Valerius."
Her eyes widened. "Wait—you're Alden Valerius?"
Alden gave a small nod. "In the flesh, I'm afraid."
"I-it's an honor! Really. I didn't expect—" she fumbled, clearly flustered.
But before she could say more, a figure loomed from the side corridor.
"Ah. Young Lord Valerius." The voice was oily, polite.
Lord Theon Greystone approached, round as ever in his colorful clothes, eyes gleaming with restrained hostility.
"I see you've met my daughter."
"Indeed, my lord." Alden said flatly.
"I'm afraid we must excuse ourselves. Amy," he added sharply, "we're leaving, the silly Carvell boy wants to make his apology to you."
The girl hesitated. "But Father—"
"Now," Theon said, his smile never touching his eyes.
Alden, his tone and face were drained of emotions. His eyes were creepy as ever, looking at the fat lord as if he was about to be pierce by the sharp gaze.
"A pleasure to first meet and know your lovely daughter, Lord Greystone. I'm greatly looking forward to next time."
Amy blinked, confused but polite. "Thank you, Lord Alden. I—it was nice to meet you too."
Lord Greystone felt the chill in the boy's words like a dagger hidden behind etiquette. Still, his face betrayed nothing but a tight smile.
"Of course, young lord," he said stiffly, placing a hand on his daughter's shoulder as he led her away.
Alden stepped back onto the balcony, his expression once again smooth.
The four turned at his approach.
"Took you long enough.Did you get lost or kidnapped by a noble girl desperate for a last-minute dance?" Kaspian called out.
"I was nearly assassinated by perfume and flattery." Alden said before smiling.
They returned together to the ballroom, weaving past whirling dancers and murmuring nobles. Several gazes followed them—lords and ladies taking note of the children of Sapin's most powerful houses, all laughing softly, speaking comfortably, and sitting together as friends.
The group dined under golden chandeliers, speaking of weapon preferences, spells they admired, academy rumors, and hypothetical battles with mana beasts. They poked fun at etiquette lessons, retold exaggerated training stories, and made light of noble nonsense.
On the surface, it was exactly what the watching adults wanted to see: unity. Bonds forming between the future pillars of the kingdom.
But Alden—Alden watched them all carefully from behind his fake acting.
Later that night, beneath the pale glow of moonlight, Valerius family returned to their estate.
As the carriage door shut behind him, the mask Alden wore all evening slid away like a silk curtain. His shoulders relaxed, the pleasant curl of his lips vanished, and his eyes, unnerving and murky, turned hollow again.
______________________
The following day, Alden advanced to the next phase in reforming and strengthening the Valerius army. He led a squadron of 100 cavalry soldiers into the field, accompanied by 14 additional men tasked with managing and defending supply carriages—provisions for both soldiers and mounts and carriages for the loots, and two emitters to provide healing support during operations.
Unlike the previous dungeon expeditions, this new campaign focused on targeting mana beasts roaming the surface—particularly the larger herbivores and prey-type beasts known for their neutrality toward humans. However, neutrality or being passive did not equate to harmlessness. Many of these surface-dwelling creatures possessed powers on par with dungeon beasts and offered ideal conditions for live combat training. More importantly, dungeons' confined terrain made them unsuitable for cavalry operations—prompting Alden to shift tactics accordingly.
His newly structured cavalry was no longer limited to the traditional charge-and-lance formations. Every rider was trained to wield both melee and ranged weapons. Mounted crossbow drills were mandatory—emphasizing hit-and-run tactics and rapid adaptability. In close-quarters, soldiers were drilled to switch fluidly to shields and halberds/warhammers , whether for direct engagements or coordinated flanking maneuvers.
Crucially, Alden also intergrated conjurers into the cavalry ranks. They were taught to cast spells while riding and received crossbow training as a backup when mana reserves ran low. They were even drilled in basic close-combat techniques, ensuring they would not become liabilities in melee scenarios.
Each cavalry soldier in Alden's force was fully and heavily equipped, tailored for versatility and adaptability in any combat scenario. Unlike the infantry—divided into specialized roles such as pikemen, frontline melee, crossbowmen, and conjurers—the cavalry was streamlined into just two core categories: augmenters and conjurers.
A cavalry augmenter carried a comprehensive loadout designed for both mobility and brute engagement. Their primary weapon was a long halberd. As a sidearm, they carried a warhammer. A crossbow and quiver of bolts ensured they could strike from range during hit-and-run engagements, and a shield, typically strapped to their back, could be quickly deployed during close-quarters combat.
Though it sounded excessive, the weight was managed through specialized weapon holders strapped to their horses. These holders distributed the gear efficiently, ensuring the rider wasn't encumbered and could draw weapons as needed depending on the flow of battle.
For conjurer soldiers, it was the same thing except they had their magic staffs for primary weapons instead of halberds.
No soldier was permitted to specialize in just one role. Alden's doctrine was clear: adaptability was survival. His cavalry would be fast, coordinated, and devastatingly versatile—capable of adjusting to any battlefield condition without hesitation.
The morning sun filtered through the sparse trees of the Beast Glades as Alden and his cavalry squadron came to a halt on a ridge overlooking the valley below.
There, grazing amidst tall grass and loose soil, were the quarry—Bullfango. E-ranked mana beasts, large boar-like quadrupeds. Mainly covered in brown fur, they have whitish underbellies along with darker grayish tufts on their heads and backs. Jutting out from their backs are two rows of boney spikes. Their heads have a pair of small pointy ears, a long pointed snout, and a pair of large tusks that stretch out forward and curve upwards at the tip. Their primary attack is sprinting and ramming their tusks at enemies. Their number was 70 at least.
"Listen up!", Alden called out, his voice carrying over the hushed murmurs of the assembled riders.
"These are Bullfango. They're not the sharpest tools in the shed, but they don't need to be. All they need is one good charge and your horse will be impaled. You will have to walk home then, that is if you managed to not break your leg first. Until House Valerius has the funds to armor our cavalry mounts, your best defense is control—maneuver your horse properly, stay mobile, keep distance, and stick to 'hit and run' tactic. Make every shot from your crossbow count. If you run out of bolts or you are forced into a cramped space, then and only then, switch to melees and shields."
The soldiers nodded, tension thick in the air.
Then Alden turned to the unit of conjurers riding among them.
"Conjurers. Save your mana pool and use crossbows like augmenters. No offensive spells against these beasts unless it's absolutely necessary. Instead, use defensive casting to protect your comrades' mounts if you have excess capacity. We're not wasting mana on these E-rank trashes."
The conjurers nodded sharply.
"Time to hunt these oversized pigs.", Alden said, mounting his horse again and drawing his own crossbow.
The cavalry broke into a wide arc, hooves pounding across the soil in orchestrated unison. Crossbow bolts whistled through the air, peppering the flanks of the unsuspecting Bullfango herd. The creatures responded with a chorus of enraged bellows and thunderous stampeding, their small, feral eyes locking onto the nearest movement.
The first volley sang through the air.Crossbow bolts thudded into thick hide, some grazing, others finding joints and weak spots. Several Bullfango let out pained squeals, veering off their charge. One collapsed immediately, tumbling and causing confusion in the back ranks.
"Keep moving!" Alden called. "Don't bunch up!"
Trained now in mounted archery, Alden's cavalry moved like fluid—firing while riding, wheeling around, and loosing again. The Bullfango, unable to match their speed or coordination, charged wildly but mostly struck empty air.
Some riders missed, but not disastrously—those in their unit compensated, timing their own shots to strike true. They had drilled this for hours everyday during the last 5 months. Alden saw the muscle memory taking hold and the tactics working perfectly.
By the end, the horde had been thinned down to scattered remnants. 57 Bullfango lay dead across the blood-slick field. The rest had fled into the tree line for their survival.
This E ranked mana beast was not a prey challenging enough for the cavalry soldiers to switch to melee combat. But the next target would definitely be.
"Pick up the bolts and loot the corpses!", Alden barked his command.