"Grandpa…." James leapt toward Alexandre, who was breathing hard. "Are you alright?"
"Ha… ha… ha. I am quite alright, boy. Help me up."
James pushed with all his strength, legs trembling under Alexandre's weight, but finally managed to prop his grandfather upright.
I'm getting old… Just one measly contract drained so much of my strength, Alexandre thought as they moved toward the house. At first he leaned heavily on James, but by the time they reached the door, he was walking on his own.
Inside the house, Angus paced restlessly while Lady Arcturus knelt in prayer beside Olivia.
"Oh goddess of the day, goddess of the night,
Keeper of law and master of life,
Grant this child your humble blessing,
That she might gain new life."
As she finished the prayer, a translucent feather materialized in her hand, glowing with a mystical sheen. She opened her palm, and the feather floated lazily down, landing on Olivia's back.
What's this… this cool sensation? Olivia thought, just as the feather was absorbed into her skin. The wound left by the creature began to harden, turning blackish-grey—like a forgotten statue left to the elements.
Crack! Crack!
The hardened wound hissed as it peeled open, flaking away and revealing clear, radiant, pale skin underneath.
"Uhuuu… uhuuu…" Olivia coughed, slowly blinking her eyes open.
"Mom!" Angus rushed to her, pulling her into a tight embrace.
"I'm… uhuuu… okay, sweetie," Olivia whispered, trying to sit up. She wobbled.
"You—move slowly now, Olivia," Lady Arcturus warned, catching her arm. In her other hand was the green vial Angus had fetched. "Drink up," she said, handing Olivia a cup of mixed medicine. "The goddesses may have mended your Sar essence, but your body still needs healing."
Then she turned to where Alexandre sat slumped on a chair near the door.
"Should I heal you too, Alex?" she asked gently, already reaching out to place her hand on his head.
"NO… my love. Please help the servants first," Alexandre replied. His voice was still sharp, but a strange softness threaded through it.
Lady Arcturus nodded and passed through the doorway. Outside, the guards were already tending to some of the unconscious servants.
She stepped into the center of the yard and offered another prayer. This time, a cloud of green butterflies emerged from her hands, their wings scattering shimmering scales as they drifted over each collapsed servant. One by one, the butterflies landed gently—and slowly, the servants began to stir awake. Most were dazed, confused, unaware of the chaos they had missed. Shame flickered in their eyes.
"Those… damn demons," a familiar voice roared from the house.
Arthur had arrived—he'd heard what had happened and rushed through the Gate to reach the manor.
"How dare they attack my family?" His voice boomed like a storm breaking over a mountain.
"Calm down, sonny. No one died," Alexandre said, trying to ease his fury.
"I know… but… but… huuuu." Arthur exhaled sharply, calming himself. He stepped outside into the yard.
"Mother… please don't push yourself too hard," he said, catching her eyes.
"I'm just doing what needs to be done," Lady Arcturus replied as she turned and walked back into the house.
"These ungrateful, cowardly fools…" Arthur thought as he scanned the courtyard, his gaze heavy with contempt. They bask in our protection, then cower when it's needed most.
He raised his voice: "I know some of you are feeling unwell, but I would like to have a meeting in one hour."
Then, without another word, he turned and entered his abode, the door echoing shut behind him like a gavel.
"I know I have been selfish… I should have been in the house, but instead, I am always out there…" Arthur's eyes glared, reflecting the dim light of the room.
"It's not your fault, Arthur. You just wanted to experience the world. Forgive me for not taking a thorough look at the servants' backgrounds," Alexandre's voice was softer than usual, heavy with regret.
"No, Father, I think I've delayed it long enough… I'm stopping this pointless work. I will take the responsibilities of being the head—with your blessing, of course." Arthur's eyes narrowed, his voice ringing with unshakable resolve.
"Huuuu… okay then, boy. You have my blessing." Alexandre conceded. This was a new side of his son, something he had never seen before.
"I give my blessing too…" Lady Arcturus added, her tone steady.
"I give my thanks and promise not to disappoint you." Arthur bowed deeply—both thanking his parents and silently apologizing for his absence when they needed him.
"I'm so glad you're alright, my darling…" Arthur said softly, placing a gentle kiss on Olivia's forehead before leaving and returning to the courtyard.
"Do you think he will be okay?" Lady Arcturus's voice was soft, tinged with sorrow.
"He is my child… sure he will strive," Alexandre replied, his voice brimming with unwavering devotion.
Later that day…
The lamps flickered, casting wavering shadows on the timber beams and vaulted roof. The room smelled faintly of smoke and old wood, mingled with the crisp chill of evening. Low murmurs filled the space like restless birds. A dim fire crackled at the far end, struggling to warm the cold room.
A massive oak table stretched across the center, polished but worn, bearing the marks of countless meetings. Nearly all seats were filled—except for two.
Qa… qa… qa…
The sharp clack of steel-tipped shoes echoed down the hall, steadily drowning out the murmurs.
The doorway creaked open and Arthur entered without a word. He walked with heavy steps, his usual charming innocence replaced by a tight, hard expression. Taking his seat at the far end, he inhaled deeply, then began.
"You know, nothing hurts more than being choked by a rope you borrowed from your neighbor."
His words snapped through the room like a whip, startling the servants upright.
"I thought the world of all of you—as family. Some of you I found being sold, nothing more than merchandise. I took you in. Gave you food from my table. Blankets from my bed. Shared my roof with you. And this is how I'm repaid?" He paused, scanning the faces before him.
"WELL, NO MORE."
A low whimper echoed after his shout.
"I will say this once: those who feel my house has wronged them, stand now. I will pay you three months' salary, then make sure you run—and never appear before me again." Another pause as he scanned the room again. No one moved.
"And those who wish to stay, stay—but only if you are sure. Because if one more betrays my trust, I will make sure you beg for death before I am done with you."
They say fear not the power of a savage man, but the wrath of a kind one. For when a kind man goes to war, demons and angels alike cower beneath his rage.
Arthur rose and left the hall. As his footsteps faded, murmurs and whispers erupted like a rising tide.
"How dare you! My son almost died!" Olivia's voice cracked with fury.
"I told you, Master's getting impatient… He gave you time, many chances. He gave you what you wished for. Now it's time to pay up, no? As they say, return favors twice in kind." A rough, unfamiliar voice sneered at Olivia.
"You dare!" Olivia raised her Sigrod, but before she could strike, invisible hands hoisted her into the air, uncontrolled and helpless.
"You f*cken whore! Who do you think you are, trying to attack me? Living with the Arcturus has you thinking you're a noble warrior, ha…" The man flicked his wrist. Olivia slammed against the wall with a sickening thud, the air knocked from her lungs.
"You're nothing but a pawn. Pawns add no value to the board if they don't serve their master—since you have no value maybe you should be sacrificed. Understand?" Olivia barely clung to consciousness.
"I give you one month, Olivia. Fail me, and you won't live to regret it." Flames flickered around the man before he vanished, leaving only the smell of smoke.
Back in the sitting hall, James stood before his grandfather.
"Grandpa… I'm tired of being so helpless. Every time there's trouble, I'm just a liability—always needing saving. I want to stand for myself. So even if I can't help others, I can at least protect myself." James's voice rang with fierce determination.
"NO! You're still a child," Alexandre shot back immediately, shutting him down.
"Then what? When the next attack comes, what should I do? Just wait and hope I'm not noticed? What if someone close to me is hurt? Should I pray for a miracle?" James, usually respectful, could not hold back this time.
Alexandre watched him silently. Deep down, he knew James was right.
"Okay… son, I have no choice. If I don't train you, you might cause more trouble than good. I will teach you."
As calm returned, Alexandre turned to a letter he'd received earlier. The words froze him in place.