The decision was made at dawn.
Snow still clung to the castle walls when Duke Alaric Valemont stood in the inner courtyard, fully armored, cloak snapping sharply in the wind.
Banners bearing the silver wolf of Valemont were raised.
War had come early.
Lucien watched from the balcony above, small hands gripping the cold stone railing. Below, knights mounted their horses in disciplined silence. No cheering. No speeches.
This wasn't a glorious campaign.
It was a defensive march.
A necessary one.
The western border skirmishes had escalated overnight. Scouts confirmed troop movement from Ardrath—too organized to be bandits, too deniable to be a formal invasion.
A probe.
And Valemont had to answer.
Inside the Duke's study, the air was heavy.
Maps were spread across the table. Red pins marked weak points. Black ink circled watchtowers that could no longer be trusted.
Duke Alaric stood straight, gauntleted hands resting on the table's edge.
"You will remain in the castle," he said.
Lucien sat quietly on a cushioned chair far too large for him.
"I know," Lucien replied.
The Duke's jaw tightened.
"You are not to leave the inner wing."
"You will eat only food prepared by the head kitchen."
"You will speak to no one alone."
Lucien nodded.
Each rule was another confirmation.
You expect me to be attacked again.
"Sir Roland will remain," the Duke continued.
Lucien's eyes flickered.
Roland.
The same name.
The Duke noticed.
"…You do not trust him."
Lucien hesitated.
Choosing words was more dangerous than choosing sides.
"I don't trust anyone," he said finally.
The Duke stared.
Then, slowly—
He smiled.
A tired smile.
"That is the correct answer."
He stepped forward and knelt in front of his son.
Removed his helmet.
Placed it gently on the floor.
"Listen carefully, Lucien," he said quietly. "If I do not return… do not seek revenge."
Lucien looked up.
"…Why?"
"Because revenge burns faster than fear," the Duke said. "And fear keeps you alive."
He placed a hand on Lucien's shoulder.
"You are not ready to rule."
Lucien did not argue.
"But you are ready to endure."
The Duke stood.
The meeting was over.
Outside, horns sounded.
The army assembled.
Lucien followed to the courtyard, escorted by guards.
The Duke mounted his horse.
For a brief moment, the ruler of Valemont looked less like a duke—
And more like a man walking into uncertainty.
His gaze rose.
Met Lucien's.
Something passed between them.
Trust.
Expectation.
And a quiet understanding:
If one of us survives, Valemont survives.
The gates opened.
The army rode out.
And just like that—
Lucien Valemont was alone.
That night, the castle felt different.
Quieter.
Not peaceful.
Vacant.
Like a body missing its spine.
Lucien sat in his chamber, staring at the system window.
[Major Event Detected]
Guardian Authority Removed
Territory Stability: -5%
Survival Probability: 21%
It dropped again.
Of course it did.
The Duke's presence alone had been a deterrent.
Without him—
The board changed.
A knock came at the door.
"Enter," Lucien said.
Sir Roland stepped inside.
Armor polished.
Posture flawless.
Expression warm.
"Young Master," he said, kneeling. "The Duke entrusted the castle to me."
Lucien studied him.
Every instinct screamed danger.
But instincts alone didn't win wars.
"I know," Lucien replied.
Roland smiled.
"I will protect you with my life."
A perfect sentence.
Delivered perfectly.
Too perfectly.
Lucien tilted his head.
"Why?" he asked.
Roland blinked. "Why…?"
"Why protect me?" Lucien continued. "If I die… you'd still be a knight."
Silence.
Just long enough.
"Because," Roland said carefully, "you are Valemont."
Lucien nodded.
Then smiled faintly.
"I see."
Roland rose.
"If you need anything, Young Master, you need only ask."
He left.
The door closed.
Lucien exhaled slowly.
The system pulsed.
[Enemy Influence: Castle Interior – High]
Advisory: Direct Action Not Recommended
So I'm surrounded.
Outnumbered.
And guarded by the man most likely to kill me.
Perfect.
Lucien lay back on his bed and stared at the ceiling.
No father.
No army.
No protection.
Just time.
And time was a weapon.
If they want me dead…
They'll make a move.
And when they do—
I'll be watching.
Far beyond Valemont, in a candle-lit room filled with maps and sealed letters, a hooded figure listened to a report.
"The Duke has left."
A pause.
Then a soft chuckle.
"…Good."
Back in the castle, Lucien closed his eyes.
And for the first time since his reincarnation—
He felt truly hunted.