The news of Ramsey's miraculous recovery spread like wildfire throughout the land. It did not move quietly, nor did it pass from ear to ear without consequence. Instead, it caused ripples that shook the foundation of the region, from the homes of simple peasants to the fortified halls of powerful clans.
Everyone, whether great or small, formed their own conclusions about the matter. To some, the idea of Ramsey's recovery was undeniable truth, a blessing of fate, or the heavens.
To others, it was nothing more than an elaborate fabrication designed to restore the Reed clan's prestige.
One of the many skeptics was Vera Snow, once Ramsey's betrothed. She had rejected his proposal only a year ago, mocking him openly.
A cripple, she had thought. Who would want such a man as a husband? It had been easy then to dismiss him and move on, to imagine a brighter future unattached to his name.
Yet the rumor of his return to health gnawed at her. Curiosity, or perhaps something more primal, urged her to see for herself.
So, on that fateful morning, Vera rode in her carriage to the gates of the Reed clan. She did not come alone.
Seated beside her was another young mistress, Lucy Tyrell, a companion equal in beauty if not in temperament. Behind them rode her loyal personal guard, the imposing Drakos. He was a man wrapped in black armor, a shadow in both form and purpose, known for his ruthless efficiency.
None dared to hinder her passage. Instead, they stepped aside at once, lowering their gazes respectfully.
The Snow name was not one they could easily offend. Vera was given free entry into the clan's compound, her carriage rolling forward as she and Lucy walked deeper into the clan's large compound, discussing as they went.
"Vera," Lucy spoke hesitantly as they stepped down from the carriage. "Have you thought about what might happen if the rumors are actually true? Just in case, you know?"
Vera turned her head sharply, her eyes narrowing as she fixed her friend with a stern gaze.
"You truly believe in such nonsense, don't you? Oh, Lucy, you are as gullible as a child."
Lucy pouted, clearly displeased with being called so. "I never said I believed it. I only said, What if it were true?"
Vera sighed deeply, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. Her voice dropped into a bitter tone.
"If that were the case, my father would force me to marry that idiot once again. The Reed clan is the wealthiest clan in the region.
Any family would covet such wealth, even if it meant sacrificing their daughter to a vile cripple. But luckily for me, what-ifs and maybes do not control reality."
Relieved by her own words, Vera smiled faintly. She was still speaking when her eyes fell upon the training field inside the compound.
Her breath caught.
There, beneath the blazing sunlight, a young man moved with striking grace. Sweat rolled down his sculpted frame as his fists cut through the air, each motion sharp, precise, and powerful. His long black hair flowed freely in the wind, cascading down his back like a river.
The sunlight touched his skin, making it glisten as though cast in bronze. His every movement was deliberate, a mixture of artistry and raw strength.
Vera's eyes widened. For a moment, she forgot her anger, her skepticism, and her pride. An unfamiliar heat crept into her chest, and a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Thoughts she would never dare voice out loud crept unbidden into her mind.
Lucy noticed at once. She tilted her head curiously, watching her friend's face shift from hostility to something altogether different. Confusion gave way to realization, and she followed Vera's gaze. When her eyes landed upon the young man, her own breath stilled.
"See, Vera," Lucy said softly, her lips curling into a pleased smile. "This is the sort of man I ought to marry. Not some broken cripple."
Vera laughed lightly at the comment, for it mirrored her own thoughts exactly. Even she, proud and aloof as she was, had to admit that the man before them was a sight to behold.
"I wonder if he belongs to the clan," Lucy mused aloud.
"Impossible,"
Vera replied quickly. "I know every notable member of the Reed clan. I have never seen him among them."
"Then perhaps he is a guard," Lucy suggested.
"Or a young elder, perhaps one who has only recently returned."
Their curiosity grew, and Lucy, confident as always, decided to take matters into her own hands. She strode forward with elegance, her hips swaying as though she were queen of the world. She called out in a commanding tone.
"You there, step forward."
Her voice carried, yet the young man ignored her completely. He continued striking the air, lost in his practice.
"Hey, I am speaking to you," Lucy snapped. "Come here at once."
At last, the man stopped. He turned, his gaze landing on her with a quiet intensity.
Ramsey's eyes widened, then narrowed, recognition flickering across her features. He knew this woman, though not from his personal memory, but Ramsey's.
Vera, however, still had not realized. When the man turned fully toward them, the sunlight revealed his features clearly, and both women gasped despite themselves. His stare was fierce, burning into them with such intensity that they were forced to look away, cheeks flushing.
They thought it was the stare of a proud warrior. If only they had known it was fueled by pure anger, they would not have felt flustered but heartbroken.
Vera quickly composed herself, her expression shifting into one of appraisal. She looked him over as though he were an item of value on display.
"What is your name, sir? I do not recall ever seeing you in this compound."
Inside, Ramsey almost laughed aloud. To think this was the same woman who once slapped him across the face and told him to stop pestering his family for matchmaking. Now she asked his name as if he were a stranger.
"She does not even recognize me," he thought, amused.
"What a fool."
Outwardly, his tone dripped with sarcasm. "Why do you want to know who I am?"
Vera huffed, clearly annoyed.
"That is a foolish question. Why not simply give your name and stop wasting time with nonsense?"
His piercing blue eyes locked on her blushing face. His voice was cold and unyielding.
"No. That is a foolish request. I do not give my name to just anyone."
Vera blinked in shock, then glanced at Lucy. Her friend stared back, equally surprised.
"You mean to tell me you will not even share your name when a pretty girl asks you?" She batted her eyelashes flirtatiously, her confidence returning.
Ramsey tilted his head and looked around as though genuinely confused.
"A pretty girl? Where? I do not see one."
Vera's composure cracked. Her fists clenched, and rage overtook her beauty. The insult struck deeper than she cared to admit.
"Do you know who you are speaking to, peasant?" She hissed, her voice trembling with fury.
Ramsey rubbed his chin as if in thought, his expression mocking.
"I do not know. Do you?"
The words shattered her patience. Vera's scream tore through the training field like the wail of a spoiled child denied her toy.
"Drakos! Cut off his arm!"
From the shadows he emerged, swift and deadly. Drakos, her personal guard, clad in black armor, his figure radiating menace. He moved like a predator released from its cage, charging with intent to kill.
Ramsey's eyes narrowed. He focused inward, tapping into his newfound ability. In an instant, he scanned the man's cosmic energy.
What he discovered made his face pale. The power before him was immense.
Drakos closed the distance in a heartbeat. His fist, heavy as a mountain, slammed into Ramsey's stomach. The force lifted him from his feet, sending him skidding across the dirt before collapsing to his knees. Pain ripped through his body, sharp and unforgiving.
Drakos snarled while walking forward, each deliberate step echoing with menace. His gaze bore down on Ramsey, daring him to rise again. Without warning, he lunged, his fist cutting through the air with steel-bending force.
Ramsey rolled aside, the strike missing by inches. The ground where Drakos's punch landed cracked, a tremor rippling outward.
Ramsey moved quickly, countering with sudden precision. A broadsword materialized in his hand out of nowhere.
A dangerous light flashed in Drako's eyes while Vera and Lucy gasped. No one had seen Ramsey take the sword from the rack. All this time while dodging the strikes from Drakos, he had been preparing his counterattack.
He swung it in a wide arc, aiming to sever Drakos's head. But Ramsey was still too weak. Drakos caught his arm mid-swing with terrifying ease. A smile, cruel and devilish, spread across his face. In his other hand, a sword appeared as though conjured from the air. The same trick Ramsey had pulled off.
The clash was like the meeting of two magicians, their weapons gleaming with deadly intent. Ramsey struggled, every muscle straining to free his arm, but Drakos's grip was unbreakable.
The guard's chuckle was hoarse and sinister. He lifted his blade high above his head, aiming to take Ramsey's arm. His eyes were burning with triumph, and his words were dripping with malice.
"I suppose you will not be needing this."