The door creaked open, echoing softly through the quiet training room.
Trafalgar's eyes narrowed as he instinctively rose from the bench, gripping Maledicta's hilt. The blade shimmered faintly in his hand, casting dark reflections across the stone floor.
A man stepped through the threshold — tall, composed, dressed in a tailored black suit lined with subtle silver threading. Pale gray hair, precisely cut, and sharp yellow eyes that seemed to analyze everything at once.
"Who the hell are you?" Trafalgar asked, voice cold, stance tense.
The man halted just inside the doorway, offering a slight bow. "My name is Caelum and I serve the Morgain house."
Trafalgar didn't lower the sword. "That doesn't answer the question. Serving the Morgain family doesn't mean you can walk in here uninvited."
Caelum looked unbothered. "Understandable. Most in this estate wouldn't recognize me — that is by design."
'Great. Another cryptic bastard.'
