Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cale opened his eyes as the moonlight shone on his face. He exhaled through his nose before sitting up in his bed. He could feel the headache, exhaustion, and his eyes swollen from crying.

Observing the room, he could see the familiar furniture, the intricate walls, the golden linings of the pillars, the high ceiling, and books that had been tossed aside on the coffee table in his receiving area.

The place was too familiar-the room he grew up in. The room that witnessed his warm childhood with his mother, the room that witnessed his agony, struggles, neglect, and his vulnerability.

Painful memories surged in his mind as he smiled sadly. He looked at the calendar and saw that today was April 1, 771st of the Felix Calendar, two days since his mother died.

He shook his head. He had a lot to do and no time to address what he really felt right now. He ignored the heartache and bittersweet feelings he had. Even if he had regressed, fate still didn't want him to save his mother.

He got out of bed and took a paper and pen to write down the plan that both he and his husband had made before regressing.

Organizing his thoughts, he could feel that he still had his Record, which was both a blessing and a curse. So the guideline helped him see what he would prioritize.

"Love... Did you land safely? Any discomfort, wounds, or side effects?" He raised his eyebrow when he realized he still had the mindlink with his husband.

"Just exhausted and have swollen eyes. My younger self probably cried until he passed out from exhaustion." He was glad to find out he could still talk to Alberu just like in his second life.

"Are you... okay?" There was a hint of hesitation in his voice, probably because of the timing.

"I'll survive." A small smile crept onto his lips. A simple concern made him calm down and feel a bit of comfort. Alberu really had a knack for making him happy with simple things.

He remembered getting close to Alberu in their first life, when Alberu saw through his facade and recognized the brilliance of his mind. At first, they were using each other-Cale for revenge and Alberu for strategy-until he found out Alberu's secret by accident.

They got closer and fell in love, both dying in the final battle with the White Star.

He remembered their second life, when Alberu was Combat Medic Seo Soo Jin while he was Support Strategist Kim Rok Soo. Both of their memories were sealed for more than half of their lives until they reached their 30s. Still, even without the memories, they fell in love. Alberu helped him cope; he became his pillar of support and the reason he kept moving and surviving.

It was the memory he cherished the most. Something that gave color to his rather dull life, where he always needed to survive.

"We will talk tomorrow, okay? You should get some sleep." Cale looked outside and could still see the brightest light the moon could offer. It felt tranquil, like something that could calm his heart.

There were a lot of things to do. And he had no time to mourn again.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Early in the morning, Ron went inside Cale's new room. They had just moved him to the eastern wing yesterday as per the Count's order, which made him feel mad.

The eastern wing was the farthest wing from the Central Wing, where the traffic was concentrated since most of the important rooms in the castle were located there. This place rarely had maids and butlers, who deep-cleaned the area once a month. Only a few rooms, such as the biggest library, Kitchen 2, and the music room were located here, and they were rarely visited because the library mostly served as storage for old books. The modern and newest books were always located in the Central Wing, and there was also the main kitchen there. Nobody in the family was interested in the music room, so it had also just become storage for instruments.

Yesterday, Ron and Beacrox, his son, voluntarily assigned themselves to the eastern wing. His son took over Kitchen 2 and cleaned it thoroughly. Since nobody even used the kitchen, Beacrox practically owned it.

Ron could still feel the resentment in his heart, wanting to take his dagger and kill that cowardly Count.

But right now, his puppy-like young master needed him. Carefully, he prepared his young master's bath before waking him up.

Ron was taken aback when he saw his puppy young master's eyes. It made him want to dash out and beat that Count to a pulp.

They were emotionless eyes. Eyes that had given up the will to live, eyes that let fate dictate their destiny, eyes that had seen too much, eyes that belonged to someone who had experienced traumatizing situations. Ron clenched his fist but gave a benign smile, offering his hand.

"Young Master, the bath is ready. Would you like me to help you?" Cale nodded and accepted the hand. Ron carefully helped Cale bathe and helped him wear his mourning clothes.

"Is the funeral arrangement done?" Cale's voice was soft, with a hint of maturity in his childish tone. Ron's heart ached to see his young master in this state. He needed to monitor him more, as he might do something drastic.

"Count-nim hasn't yet gotten out of his room, Young Master," Ron answered. Cale sighed and looked at the mirror with dead eyes.

"Prepare the funeral ceremony as fast as possible. And Ron, I want you to investigate each of the rats roaming around. Take care of them efficiently," Cale said, walking out of his room toward the Count's study.

"Where are you going, Young Master?" Worry immediately flashed in Ron's eyes.

"Who else would take care of the matters regarding the territory? My father is unavailable at this moment. Even if Mama is... dead..." Cale clenched his fist and exhaled through his nose.

"The matters in the territory will still keep on going," he said. They reached the study, and Ron reluctantly left to take care of the matters Cale asked for.

Cale immediately immersed himself in the Count's work, with the help of his passive Record ability. It only took him a few hours to finish all the paperwork that normally would have needed at least three days to complete.

Cale put together the documents with shady financial calculations of their monthly spending and income. He wrote official letters to some of the guilds and departments like the merchant guild, construction guild, artistry guild, bureaucracy, and the knighthood, and prepared some new policies that he wanted to implement in the territory.

He found a good vassal family to take care of establishing orphanages, small schools for learning skills, and browsed the citizens of Rain City to see if there were hidden gems hiding in the haystack.

All of this was done within 12 hours of work.

"Young Master... did you eat already?" Ron asked the moment he entered. Cale looked at the time and found out it was almost 6 p.m.

"I... I forgot," he admitted, having really forgotten to eat lunch, which made Ron give a benign smile that looked vicious.

"No maid even came in to deliver food?" An unpleasant feeling surged through Ron's body. He had been too busy taking care of some rats and didn't even realize his young master hadn't eaten either breakfast or lunch.

"No one." Cale's stomach grumbled, making Ron sigh.

"I'll call my son to prepare some food for you, Young Master," Ron said benignly, bowing a bit.

"Oh, by the way, Ron, please trace these documents and see if there's any financial fraud. Summon them here tomorrow. If they don't comply to defend themselves, you are free to seize their property and send them to legislation. Bring this letter to the messenger to send to the people I want to talk with," Cale instructed.

Ron went back and checked the work of his young master.

He was shocked to find how efficient Cale was at doing the work. But he didn't ask, simply taking the documents before leaving to find his son.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

That night, Cale slumped down on a couch near the window where the moon shone so brightly. Having a small body took a toll on him despite having a strong mental capacity.

"You should take a rest, Young Master," Ron said, tucking him into bed.

"Ron, would you believe me if I told you I regressed time and this is my third life?" Cale just blurted it out. To be honest, Ron had been more of a father to him than Deruth. And he understood the reason why he abandoned him in his first life.

As an assassin in hiding, after finding out that their chasers appeared a few kilometers away from where they were, they decided to leave so they wouldn't drag him into their mess. Still, he just wished they had left a letter before departing. He would have understood.

Cale felt anxious looking at Ron, who was staring at him with complicated eyes. But Ron sat down at the side edge of the table.

"Want to talk about it?" Cale looked at Ron's face. There was no doubt or hesitation. He believed in him.

Cale burst into tears as he anxiously played with his fingers.

"Everyone died. They won. We tried to resist, but it was futile. It was devastating and dragged everyone into this massive war. The world just led into doom." Sorrow surged within Cale's mind, emotions he tried to suppress.

And he was surprised to know he could still cry. He thought he had destroyed his tear glands from all the emotion he had bottled up. Clenching his fists, Ron pulled him into his embrace.

"Father... he will leave after the ceremony. He'll meet Lady Violan and Basen," he murmured.

"Do you want to do something about it?" Ron didn't break the hug and just continued to comfort his young master.

"No. I like them. They are nice and respect boundaries. And Father... he is happy with Lady Violan," Cale played with his hands, not looking at Ron's intense gaze.

"She saved me, died to protect me, and she's the kind of woman who didn't force herself to be my mother. She just respected my space but was still ready to help me in any way. She's... pretty cool, I guess."

They stayed silent for a while. Ron looked at the anxious appearance of his puppy-like young master.

A grim feeling surged within himself, and his emotions went into chaos. It only meant that there was more behind those emotionless eyes. He exhaled through his nose before inquiring,

"Did you regress with someone?" Ron observed Cale intently. He gently held his hand and gave his genuine smile.

"Alberu. The Crown Prince came back with me. He should be here tomorrow." Ron pulled the blanket up to Cale, seeing that he was really tired.

"Let's continue this tomorrow, okay? I need to process this information first." Cale nodded cutely. It didn't help that he had chubby cheeks and doe eyes, which made him look even cuter. He looked sleepy and tired, probably because of dealing with all the paperwork.

"Does that mean you believe me?" Cale asked.

Ron chuckled and gave a benign smile.

"While Young Master often hides things and lies here and there, you would never lie about something this big. So let's continue this tomorrow, okay?" Cale nodded again. He immediately fell asleep, probably having been suppressing himself from resting.

Ron smiled darkly as he looked at the bright moonlight.

'I should investigate this Lady Violan and talk to the Crown Prince.' He went out of the room lost in thought. He had a lot of questions, but he didn't want to force the young child.

Despite saying he was probably grown up already, from the few hints and information he gave, he probably didn't have time to develop his emotional maturity. Just thinking of the Count abandoning a child to take care of his work and returning with a woman made him want to march into the Count's room and torture him.

But it seemed like his Young Master had affection toward the new Countess, so he would let this happen.

He went to his son and had a discussion about what Cale said. Beacrox offered to help. They decided to enforce a strict rule when it came to eating and would monitor his mental state. They would talk to him for more information but would not force him to say anything until he was ready.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Chapter Text

The next day, the Henituse Mansion was decorated into a mourning house where they hung lanterns, black and white silk, and flower arrangements for Countess Jour's funeral ceremony. Many nobles came to give their condolences to the Count. They were shocked to find out he wasn't the one hosting the funeral, but his son.

Cale greeted everyone who came, coordinated the refreshments, took care of the priest, managed the travel arrangements—everything—while Count Deruth simply wandered around looking miserable. His eyes were red and swollen. He didn’t even dare look at Cale, who was busy entertaining the guests.

Ron could hear a lot of gossip that made him want to kill everyone who badmouthed Cale. Most of the nobles flocked toward the Count, giving their condolences and comforting him, while nobody even looked at Cale, who was handling all the coordination.

"Young Master Cale, my deepest condolences for your loss," a solemn voice rang out from the mourning hall, catching everyone’s attention. There, dressed in mourning clothes, Alberu appeared, sad yet regal enough to command his surroundings.

It was something he had learned to cultivate during his time as the King of the Roan Kingdom in their first life.

"It is my deepest honor for the sun of our Kingdom to attend this humble noble’s mother’s ceremony. I’m deeply grateful for your condolences," Cale said, looking at Alberu, who twitched slightly at his mild glibness. Ron observed the two’s interaction.

They appeared to converse using their eyes and gestures. It seemed what his young master had said was true. Murmurs erupted as the unfavored First Prince attended the funeral ceremony during a crucial point in the battle for the throne. He appeared nonchalant toward the nobles, which puzzled many.

Most were used to the First Prince trying to curry favor, often going toward them and engaging in small conversations. But this time, he simply sat on a couch, drinking tea, unbothered by the nobles’ stares. He wore a solemn smile as they continued to mingle.

When the auspicious time arrived, the carriages outside were neatly parked in the front yard of Henituse Castle. They were arranged with careful attention to detail and with the most effective system to accommodate the nobles. Many were shocked at how the carriages managed to retrieve the intended guests in the fastest way possible without much delay.

Another wave of murmurs followed when the Count chose to ride in a different carriage rather than with his son.

Cale stared blankly at the newly built tombstone of his mother. He stayed for a while as the other nobles returned to their carriages to go back to the Henituse Castle. There was still the post-funeral ceremony they needed to attend. He went back after an hour of staying within the vicinity.

After the long day, many of the nobles went back to their homes, and some stayed in the Henituse Castle as their departure would require more time, and it was already dark.

Alberu was one of those who didn't leave.

"You didn't contact me yesterday evening. Did something go wrong?" Alberu asked when there were only four people inside. He had found out that Cale told Ron, and Ron told Beacrox, that they had regressed.

"Had a lot of work to do," Cale replied, scrutinizing the lemonade he was drinking at that moment. Alberu chuckled and smiled.

"Hard to compare you to someone who likes to slack," Alberu's lips curved as he looked at Cale.

"I started to renovate the garden and lessen the parties I would and will attend. After that, I also started to secretly build a headquarters for the meetings we would conduct in the future. I systematically planned to integrate a new training regimen for the knights. In the future, I also plan to build a home for the mages we would take in as refuge when the civil war occurs," Cale put down his cup and smiled.

"That's good. It should lay your foundation. Make sure to minimize your interactions with any noble factions too. Start building your power internally first." Cale nodded.

"I'll pour money into you so you can start creating the intelligence network. I know this is your forte, so I'll hand this work over to you. Make sure to tell me or send me reports on the progress. For now, it would be good if we stay low-key," Alberu looked at Cale with a smirk, which was returned by Cale with a bright smile.

"Ron, tomorrow, find Freesia in the market town. She's disguising as an old woman who sells unique sculptures. She's an assassin who escaped her guild because she refused to kill an innocent child. I would love to offer her the position of Head Master of this intelligence network." Cale looked at Ron with a smile. Ron just nodded and took note of the order.

"We would need all the power we could get to deal with both the Arm and the Hunters." A vicious smile appeared on Alberu's lips, which was equally matched by Cale.

Both Tasha and Ron suddenly looked at each other. They both had a tacit understanding that they knew the secret of the two.

"Young Master, the head of the Valhali Household is requesting your audience." Ron, who served as Cale's personal secretary at this moment, had a lot of things to do. With the help of the three candidates for deputy butler, everything was going well.

Cale stopped working on the calculations of funding and taxes of the vassal family first.

"Let him in." He straightened his posture. He put his elbow on the surface of the table before interlacing his fingers and leaning towards his hands.

Ron opened the door, and a middle-aged man went inside. He looked quite honest with a respectful glance towards Cale. He bowed slightly before speaking.

"I greet the young master of the County, Henituse Household." A perfectly formal greeting was made towards Cale despite him being so young.

The middle-aged man had slicked-back long hair and wore a typical dress of a nobleman. He had a perfect mustache and had a lot of wrinkles on his face, a sign of early aging.

"Baron Valhali, it's nice to meet you too. You're here as I wanted to hand you a certain project that would help you in your predicament." Baron Valhali flinched upon seeing the young child in front of him. In his honest thought, this young master was far more intimidating than the Count himself.

And the fact that he knew his current situation meant that he could not take this young master lightly despite his age. Among the vassal households of the Henituse Family, Valhali was often ranked lower than the others because of one thing.

His morals.

He refused to use slavery. Slavery was not even legal in this era, but there were still a lot of nobles who used them. He often paid his workers a slightly higher salary than the norm, was fair in his approach, and honest when it came to work. With all the documents he looked at yesterday, the line of work of Baron Valhali was the one with no blemish of corruption. What was written in his reports—funding, projects, area of responsibility problems—had all been proven with factual evidence. He was an honest noble, which made him a bit of a pushover, thus the result of his household declining.

"I don't like to see a good noble be out of our vassals just because of being bankrupt. You have your own morals. That’s why I want you to supervise this project." Cale pushed a document toward Baron Valhali, who hastily took it and read.

He widened his eyes to see the project.

An orphanage for the children in the slum. There were a few clauses if he wanted to take the project, which included using people from the slum as laborers with their salary indicating a 20% raise from the norm, reporting daily with the financial expenses, not discriminating against any of the laborers, and of course, treating these people with respect. Fully equipped with a budget for their meals and plenty of rest. This was just one of the many projects that had been laid out, and the commission for the project was especially high.

Baron Valhali almost slumped to the ground upon seeing he could immediately get 30% of the entire commission when the construction started. Not only could he pay his debt to the lender in full, but he would still have plenty left. And that was just for the 30% of the commission.

All the clauses were within reason, and it wasn’t hard to do this at all considering his connections.

"I... I accept this project. Thank you, Young Master." Baron Valhali looked at Cale with a reverent gaze. He read the document repeatedly at the side multiple times.

While this was happening, the merchant guild, construction guild, and Minister of Work of Henituse County entered too. Cale laid out the projects within their skill and work-related fields. He let the Minister of Work relay the project to the subsequent persons.

"Go to the Finance Department and give this document to them. Tell them I would need all the daily reports of these projects as soon as possible. I would also want you to look over talents because this county badly needs them. Background doesn’t matter." Cale’s authority was not a joke. Despite having a small stature and young age, he commanded authority that no one could refute. These honest people just looked at him in awe.

Cale shivered and frowned upon looking at these people who looked like they were one step from worshipping him. He felt that his slacker life was waving goodbye again, so he dismissed them immediately. Baron Valhali also went out with these people and talked about the collaboration they would need to do.

These honest workers were just happy to do this work because it would make their county more prosperous. Plus, this project would soon get rid of the slums as the worker target of these projects was the people in the slums.

"Did you eat already?" Cale heard from his mind. He stopped and looked at the clock to see it was almost time for lunch.

"I haven’t, but I’ll eat now. How about you?" A small smile crept onto his lips.

"Currently eating. Almost finished half of my paperwork and would head to my training." Early in the morning, Alberu and Tasha departed back to the palace using a teleportation scroll. He knew that Ron and Alberu talked about something yesterday evening, but Ron never said anything.

"Time for lunch, Young Master." Cale immediately stopped and went to eat. Alberu and Cale just conversed in their minds until they finished eating.

He continued his work after taking lunch, and after relaying the subsequent tasks, he finished his work early to think.

Now that the groundwork was laid, he needed to also elevate the overall power of the military department of the county. While he had the backing of Alberu, at this moment, Alberu was nothing but the unfavored First Prince, nothing like their first life when he became the king amidst the war and His Majesty's untimely death.

He took a paper and pen, then wrote a pros and cons list of the plan he wanted to implement. Should he introduce the modern training routine to the knighthood? Should he introduce guns to this world?

If he did, then he would need to find a worker to do so. Maybe he could implement good precautions so this type of weapon would not fall into the hands of the wrong people. Having guns would elevate the overall combat capabilities of the military, giving them a long-range attack option aside from mages and daggers. But it would also garner a lot of attention, especially from greedy nobles or other kingdoms.

Which would probably be annoying.

He suddenly thought of Cage, the crazy priestess of the God of Eternal Rest's temple, who had been excommunicated after killing the assassin who murdered her best friend. She was the closest to what people here called the Holy Maiden or Saintess of God, as she could directly talk to the God of Death.

Utilizing this person meant he would have access to the Vows of Death. Cale's lips curved into a smile. The pros outweighed the cons. All he needed to do was find the right precautions for those buffoons.

As part of the internal members and team leader of the strongest group in Hope Company in Korea, he was adept at how guns were made. Even DIY guns — he knew how to make them because he had Record.

This ability was both a blessing and a curse, but it helped him gather more information to the point that others called him a human computer. Makeshift weapons were also part of the knowledge he had.

He was in deep thought when Ron placed a lemon tea in front of him, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"You should take a rest, young master. Don't think too much. This is just the second day you've been back," Ron said with a benign smile that looked vicious to Cale. He shivered and hastily took the lemon tea.

Cale's face scrunched at the first contact with the tea, which amused Ron, though he kept his benign smile.

"Is he punishing me for being overworked?" Cale shivered and peeked at Ron, who just kept on looking at him. He had no choice but to drink this abomination.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Chapter Text

After the grueling work at the county, Cale wrote down all the coordinates of the Ancient Powers' locations, both from what he got from the novel and from the diary of his mother that he found at her tombstone.

First is the Unbreakable Shield located at the man-eating tree. He would need to feed the tree until it was full to get the Ancient Power.

Second is half of the Annual Ring in Harris Village, the same Ancient Power that White Star obtained when the Harris Village massacre happened. He just needs to appear in front of the tree to get it, as he read in his mother’s diary.

Third is the Dominating Aura, located in one of the swamps in the Forest of Darkness, and fourth is the Super Rock, located at the boundary between the inner and outer areas of the forest. Both were mentioned in his mother’s diary. He doesn’t know the way to obtain them yet, but he knows he will need them.

Fifth is the other half of the Annual Ring at his mother’s tombstone. Just like the first half, he only needs to appear to receive it.

Sixth is the Vitality of the Heart, located in Puzzle City. He needs to place a rock into the rock tower and destroy it. He wrote down a note to obtain this Ancient Power first or second because he might explode.

He got this information at the deathbed of an ancient dragon he met in his first life.
Seventh and eighth are the Sound of the Wind and Dominating Water, both located in the Ubarr Territory. He would need to dive and break free the Ancient Power, while the other requires another Ancient Power from Mount Yelie to carry the Dominating Water.

Last but not least is the Fire of Destruction, which only appears in the Ten Fingers Mountain once every year in late summer. So he would need to wait until May to get it. Ancient Power is enough to deal with White Star, but not the Hunters. So he plans to ask his father, Butler Ron, to train him too.

He has a lot on his plate, but if he manages to pull this off, he could get his slacker life earlier.

The past two weeks were a blur to Cale. His mornings were spent finishing all his paperwork. After lunch, he received reports from various people to whom he delegated miscellaneous tasks. He even created a new department just to drop his trivial work and make time for his training in the afternoon, then took strolls to acquire Ancient Powers in the evening with Ron.

He would occasionally talk to Alberu through mind link throughout the day. And not once did his father leave his room.

Today was one of the rare days he could slack off, as it was the weekend—until Hans burst into the office, panting.

“Yo-young master! Bad news! The Count!” Hans panted anxiously, clearly panicking.

“Did he leave a letter?” Cale didn’t even look at Hans, who was shocked by the question.

“Y-you knew the Count would leave?” There was hesitation in his eyes as he looked at Cale, who was calmly reading a book.

“He’ll be back after a year, don’t worry. So, did he leave a letter?” Cale asked again.

“Y-yes, uhm, he just said that he needed space and would tr-travel a bit.” Hans suddenly felt the urge to drag the Count back upon seeing Cale doing the work of the Count. His young master was just eight years old and had just lost his mother, but here he was, doing the work of a noble.

He didn’t even have time to properly mourn.

“I’ll take care of it. Make sure no rumors spread about his absence. Continue working,” Cale ordered.

Ron, who had been listening to the conversation, felt an urge to kill. He smiled benignly, already expecting this much.

“Okay,” Cale dismissed Hans, who returned to his work afterward.

“Ron, start cleaning up the rats in the mansion. Make sure to do it quietly.” Ron bowed before retreating to follow the order.

“Ahh! This is life,” Cale slacked off for the rest of the day after that.

The rumors were contained within the territory walls. The disguised military strengthening, the sudden lack of underworld presence in Rain City, the slum residents rising to middle class, orphanages being built—the Rain City completely transformed into a beautiful place. But Cale made sure the territory appeared more like a tourist spot than a military base.

Cale offered the Flame Dwarves from the Eastern Continent a small territory inside the Forest of Darkness, completely safe for them to live in. In return, the Flame Dwarves would help Cale create guns that would blend into the fantasy world.

Of course, commissions were set, which made the Flame Dwarves grateful to Cale. They were given a lot of freedom to build anything within the premises of their new home. Cale smirked just thinking about snatching this tribe right under White Star’s nose.

He knew he needed a lot of money—not just for the territory, but to funnel into military force.

War is expensive.

It was one of the problems they had in his first life, to the point where he emptied the County’s treasury that had been built up by their ancestors for 1,000 years. Food, resources, weapons, armor, magic stones, potions, medical kits, bandages, and even basic necessities skyrocketed in price. Not only because demand exceeded supply, but also because ordinary workers could not work properly due to the frequent danger they faced, and merchants had difficulty traveling.

Everything became so expensive that gold almost lost its value.

He also needed to know what Ancient Powers White Star had. When they realized White Star possessed Ancient Powers, it was already too late. He had complete balance, and they had no idea what type of Ancient Powers he had, other than his mother’s.

Still, Cale wrote down the things he noticed while battling White Star.

Ancient Powers Notes:

• The fire seems to be from swords—something he used to cut Choi Han’s arm.
• Water is violent and seems to dominate the field (reason why Rosalyn died).
• His wood attribute is Annual Rings (from Harris Village).
• He has a power that causes irrational fear in others.
• He seems to also have the Dominating Aura (more confirmation needed).
• He has a strong plate that caters to all the attributes well.

ARM Notes:

• Has the Lion and Bear Tribes
• Possibly partnered with mermaids
• Flame Dwarves (confirmed via George during the Death Invasion)—already taken care of
Their base is in the Eastern Territory
• One of the bases is in the Molan Household
• Has black mages
• Controls the Empire
• Has contact with Marquis Stan
• INDOMITABLE ALLIANCE!!!

Few Notes:

• Stole World Tree branch (info from TBH)
• They have many crazy but smart people
• Took the sea route near the borders
• Messed up the marine ecosystem

The notes were extremely short when he wrote them down. He frowned upon seeing how little information they had against ARM. It showed how severely lacking they were in everything: power, manpower, money, information.

He knew that White Star had more up his sleeve than what was obvious. If only he had read The Birth of a Hero more. He only managed to finish five volumes before he fell asleep at his table.

"Cale, can I talk for a while?"
Cale stopped writing upon hearing Alberu in his mind. He relaxed himself and put down the pen because he knew what Alberu would say was something important.

"I'm listening," he answered.

"I'm planning for Alberu Crossman to not fight in the battle."
There was an underlying viciousness to that voice he heard, which made Cale not reply for a while.

He frowned before interlacing his fingers and resting his chin above the interlocked hands.

"So you plan to work on the front line too, but not as 'Alberu Crossman'?" Cale replied. He heard a chuckle of amusement on the other side.

"You know me too well, my dear headache."
Cale frowned upon hearing that nickname again.

"I'll send you a present then."
Cale remembered the swamp in the Forest of Darkness he went to with Ron last week. Cale's lips curved into a small smile, and he felt a bit excited to see the reaction of his husband.

Dead mana had been everywhere when the war happened in his first life. He remembered how the Caro Kingdom fell because they couldn't get out of the dead mana swamp that the Indomitable Alliance used. The Mogoru Empire used dead mana bombs in their battle against the Jungle and Whipper Kingdom, the black mages, and the lich. It was everywhere to the point that the Western Continent was overwhelmed and didn’t know what to do.

It didn’t help that Dark Elves couldn't move freely, or else they would die at the hands of enemies.

Cale had a feeling that White Star never revealed all his cards during the war, not because he was a coward, but because he didn’t need to. The few allies and manpower he revealed were already devastating enough, so what was the use of using the other cards?

He was smart enough to hide a few cards up his sleeve in case of an emergency or something unexpected.

When he was thirty as Kim Rok Soo and remembered his first life as Cale Henituse, White Star had been one of the case study materials he used. He compiled all the information, strategies, late-night lectures, and political maneuvers he learned primarily from Lee Soo Hyuk. The rest came from all the information he could find on the internet that had just been reestablished, and books they managed to save.

White Star was brilliant.

He was a strategist that you couldn't help but feel safe around if you were an ally, and dread if you were on the opposite side. The fact that he didn’t need to appear in forty years of war until the final fight spoke of how brilliant his mind was and how deeply he moved in the shadows.

The instinctual fear he carried, the cold and calculative eyes with which he looked at the battlefield as if it were a chessboard. Cale couldn’t help but shiver.

Even when he didn’t see him, he could still feel the fear, the fire that burned him, the tremble in his hands just remembering that person.

Cale clenched his fist, trying to calm his mind down. He would still need to face him. Face the person who killed him in his first life. Face the person who killed his entire family.

"Did you blank out? Cale!"
He heard an anxious voice through his head, which snapped him out of it. He didn’t realize that his mind had spiraled from dead mana to White Star.

"Nothing, just blanked out a bit."
He could still feel the tremors in his hands, but a smile appeared on his lips. This time would be different.

He would smack him in the back with full force, run away, steal their treasure, use their materials, technologies, and strategies against them.

Because this time, he was aware of the enemy while they were still in the dark.

"Are you sure you're okay? Do you want me to teleport there?"
He could hear the worried voice of his husband. It made him chuckle a bit.

"Don't worry, love. I will make sure you have no reason to step onto the battlefield."
Never again.

Clenching his fist, he remembered the tired posture of Alberu in their first life, as if the world rested on his shoulders. He would not let anything like that happen again.

He reached into the magic pouch and took out the dead mana of a dead dragon he collected in the Forest of Darkness. He would send this to his husband later after writing a magic circle.

"He came back."
Cale frowned at the voice. Who was that?

"I won’t let the past happen again, not anymore."
He might be tired, so he ignored it.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Chapter Text

The next morning, Cale woke up at 7 a.m., had his breakfast, and returned to the Count's office to take care of his father's work. It was the usual routine: vassals' daily tantrums, financial reports, weekly updates, data on incomes, taxes, project reports, permissions, and the outcomes of territorial disputes.

It was something he could finish within three hours, as he only needed to glance once at each document to understand its contents. This efficiency was the result of Cale's maneuvering over the past few weeks. He had cleared all the backlog, established new policies for the territory, issued ordinances for each ministry and department, and launched various projects aimed at improving the region. Of course, he had also implemented a new military training program, which he entrusted Ron to enforce strictly.

He even created a new department-Secretarial Services-to delegate trivial tasks so he could slack off. After all, what's the use of money if it doesn't make your life easier? That was why he could never understand his father, who buried himself in work despite having the money and authority to delegate. It wasn't as if most of the work was confidential enough to require his personal attention.

Naturally, Cale ensured that he investigated the people he appointed to positions of power. Those documents could still become a source of annoyance if they ended up in the wrong hands.

He was certain his husband had also implemented some Earth-based systems to aid in this transition.

Unlike the weak and naive thirteen-year-old Alberu who intentionally kept his palace as shabby as possible, this was Alberu Crossman-now a forty-five-year-old king who had survived twenty long years of war-and Seo Soo Jin, a forty-three-year-old combat medic who had survived an apocalypse. Two lifetimes' worth of experience, shaped by the harshest environments.

There was no longer any need to shrink himself or remain unnoticed. He no longer had to please the nobles or hide who he was. He would thrive even without the king's favor-especially without the king's favor.

Cale's lips curved into a smile as he put down his pen. He would take his lunch, rest a bit, and then train with Ron.

"Young Master, Miss Freesia is here," Ron announced as he entered with a woman in her mid-thirties. She had wavy, shoulder-length lavender hair and violet eyes. She was visibly tense and fidgeting with her fingers.

Cale used a bit of a dominating aura, his expression stoic as he met Freesia's eyes. He could see she was intimidated by his presence, which was good.

"You already spoke with my butler last week, correct? What's your decision?"

Last week, Ron had invited Freesia, who had just settled in the territory after fleeing from her pursuers. Cale remembered that she would remain in the territory for over a decade before dying during the Henituse War while saving children from the Bear Tribe. He remembered her name and background vividly, piecing it together from the remnants of that war.

At the time, they had been robbed of a large sum of money. Luckily, the secret stash had remained untouched, which Cale later used to rebuild part of the territory. He had erected a large stone monument in the central plaza of Rain City, inscribing the names of fallen citizens onto it as a memorial altar. It was the least he could do for the people.

He wanted to see the potential of this woman who had never abandoned her morals, even on her deathbed.

"I accept your offer, sir," Freesia said, her fists clenched. Cale smiled.

"I promise that you and your friends will have full autonomy upon joining. You can accept or decline missions without repercussions. I will provide a generous base salary along with commission-based payments. However, I want this organization to operate as discreetly as possible. Implement an invite-only system for guests who wish to conduct transactions," Cale explained.

He had already gone over the system with Ron, who would be responsible for overseeing operations. Freesia would serve as the face and representative of the organization. Ron would explain the details to her later.

"What will be the name of this organization, Young Master?" Ron asked benignly, causing Cale to shudder. Despite technically being older than Ron now, he still harbored an irrational fear of that smile.

"Soo'Ari..." Cale replied. He had been thinking about the name ever since Alberu told him to create a secret organization.

"Soo" was to honor his fallen hyungs, Choi Jung Soo and Lee Soo Hyuk. He remembered that the four of them-including Alberu-had been nicknamed the "Soo Quartet" in their company, as they all had "Soo" in their names. "Soo" could mean excellent, protect, or water/flow. "Ari" could mean song, grace, or path. He chose to interpret it as a flowing path, because no matter how difficult the road ahead, he would flow down it like a tide.

It was a name close to his heart, one with meaningful roots.

"Soo'Ari..." Freesia repeated softly. She relaxed a bit under his gaze.

"I'll send you a check, and you can use it however you need to lay the foundation of this organization. I want a place that gathers both rumors and intelligence. The broader the scope, the better. But let me know if any nobles wish to join. I need to evaluate them personally. Also, please address me as 'Crescent' within the organization," Cale said, smiling brightly.

Freesia was momentarily stunned by the expression. He looked more like his age with that kind of smile.

"Crescent" was another word for "Moon"-a nickname Alberu often used for him during their glib banter. Cale couldn't wait to see his husband's reaction when he revealed his codename.

The structure of the secret organization is a mix of the mercenary guild system and the system that they created in Korea.

There will be the "Head" the strategic Core and the minds of the organization. This division is where the intelligence division, Financial Department, Logistics, Engineering, Administration, and Archives would fall. It would be where the internal affair would happen. Of course there will be an internal security for the safety of the datas inside and would use the Vows of Death as a safety net.

The "Body" which is the operational manpower of the organization. This is where spies, assassins, healers, poison experts, strike team, mages, combat specialists, mercenaries, and anything that moves from one place to another would fall to this division. This would be the driving force of the organization. Cale made sure to implement training according to both of his experience and books he learned in his life as Kim Rok Soo. He made sure to create manuals in the past weeks he's been working and let someone duplicate it.

This is the time where he felt grateful for having the record ability. All the datas he got from his two lifetimes is definitely precious information now in this life.

And the last division would be the "Skin". Cale plans to open a lot of business; jewelry stores, clothing stores cafes, pubs, taverns, inns, bathhouses, spas, bakeries, weapon shops, and many more businesses across both continents. Of course, he won't let others connect those businesses to one another. So the naming would be random at best or let the "face" owner decide to themselves what their business name would be.

He was working on listing formulas, directions, recipes, ideas, and anything that could help the business flow and explode in popularity immediately.

This is how they would get immense wealth to spend for the upcoming war.

When Ron saw the structure of the organization, he couldn't help but to be surprised on how detailed the plan is. How it would be executed, how they would establish their name without being too loud. And even had a manual in case of emergency.

After getting the plan, even without his guidance in the future, the organization would run smoothly without so much interference from him personally and money would flow to his pocket naturally. Ron couldn't help but to feel that his puppy Young master grows up so fine.

"Thank you, sir." Cale could see Freesia slightly shiver upon listening to all the information she needed to do. She probably couldn't help but feel the pressure again. Cale knew why-because the fact that an eight-year-old made this elaborate plan would make her feel fear. After she received the documents for the plan, Cale gave her the check that Alberu used. Then Ron guided her out.

Beacrox came inside with a cart full of food, which made Cale excited as he felt famished.

"Hyung, I'll go to the palace later to deliver some reports and a gift for Alberu. Would you come with me?" Cale asked while eating.

"Hmm..." Beacrox immediately grumbled but didn't refuse, which made Cale satisfied.

After eating, they both left a note in case Ron returned early.

Both of them used a teleportation scroll on which the coordinates of Alberu's room were written. Cale had everything and excitedly tore the teleportation scroll. His face was still stoic, but his eyes were so bright they lit up.

"Welcome," Alberu, who had a smile, welcomed the two of them. He certainly looked like he had been waiting on his comfy couch, which made Cale chuckle.

"I guess the renovation is still ongoing?" The room was much smaller but cozier, probably because of the newly built wall between Alberu's office and his public receiving area. Alberu's office had soft, comfy long couches with a gold frame and sun carvings embracing the foam. The glass coffee table that faced both long couches had a golden frame too.

There was also a soft carpet beneath this private receiving area, intended to cater to his trusted people.

Laid out on the coffee table were teas and desserts arranged meticulously.

Cale widened his eyes upon seeing some familiar desserts he often ate as Kim Rok Soo-like dasik, yakgwa, bungeoppang, hotteok, and sweet rice mini bundt cakes. Of course, cookies and cupcakes were included.

"You prepared all of this?" Cale widened his eyes and smiled.

"After you called yesterday, I prepared this immediately. I can't let you go without sweets, or you'll pout again," Alberu said with a teasing smile, but Cale just scowled (pouted).

"I would not pout." He glared at Alberu, but Alberu just smiled because he found him cute. From his chubby but rosy cheeks and doe eyes, his glare only made him more adorable. Tasha, who was at the side, even secretly cooed upon seeing the adorable face of Cale.

"What are these desserts?" Beacrox looked at the unfamiliar desserts on the table with interest.

"Ah, did Cale already explain about our second life?" Beacrox nodded, which Alberu returned with a smile.

"These are desserts from Korean cuisine. I baked a lot in my second life as a coping mechanism-from cakes, cookies, cupcakes, to many Korean dessert recipes. I could write them down for you since Cale loves sweets a lot. Cale could give you some Korean dish recipes since he was the one who cooked for the four of us," Alberu said with a nostalgic smile that Cale completely ignored.

Beacrox looked at Cale with a raised eyebrow.

"I'll write you the recipes." Cale just chucked some dessert into his mouth. Beacrox looked more satisfied.

"What do you mean four?" Tasha moved next to them with curiosity in her eyes.

"Well..." Alberu sneakily peeked at Cale first. Cale just shrugged and looked away.

"We were known as 'Soo's Quartet' since all of us had 'Soo' in our names. Cale was Kim Rok Soo, and I am Seo Soo Jin. Cale was the youngest, while I was the second oldest. The oldest among us was Lee Soo Hyuk. He was... he was our leader. He taught us a lot about strategy, politics, manipulation, psychology, and how to move in the most tense situations. We learned a lot from him and considered him our hyung," Alberu said with a smile that looked like he was remembering many happy memories.

"The second youngest was just a few hours older than Cale. He was Choi Jung Soo. He was like a golden retriever-full of energy, a typical extrovert who liked to adopt introverts." Alberu chuckled a bit, as he was one of the people Choi Jung Soo adopted.

"Introbert? Extrobert?" Tasha frowned, looking confused.

"Ah, right. There's no 'science' here. Uhm, it's terminology we use to describe shy people and expressive people. It was part of psychology, which is the study of the mind and behavior of both humans and animals-how their brains work, their mental processes, behavior patterns. It's a field of study and research conducted by countless people over decades of data, because mana and magic weren't the norm in that world. At least, not before the catalyst," Alberu said with a sad smile-a mirror of his mental state.

It just turned into awkward silence after the explanation. Even Cale slowed down while eating, a bitter smile on his face.

Chapter Text

"Choi Jung Soo was well adept in ancient martial arts." Cale added with a solemn face, the weight of memory slipping into his tone. "One of the reasons why I have a solid foundation in both daggers and swords and why I know how guns work."

Tasha looked at the two with complicated eyes while Beacrox just watched with quiet understanding. The way they spoke about these people reminded him of how he spoke about his mother.

"I'm sorry for your loss." Beacrox blurted out without thinking. The two looked surprised for a second, then nodded and smiled.

"It's fine. It's been almost a decade since then." Alberu spoke softly. Cale simply reached for a pastry and ate it with calm enjoyment.

"I would like to know about this psychology you speak of. Seems to be useful to my specialties." Beacrox added casually. Both Cale and Alberu nodded, a silent agreement passing between them.

"I brought you a gift, Your Radiant Highness, Shining Sun of the Roan Kingdom." Cale said, voice flat, as he leaned back with a lazy smirk. Alberu squinted, then narrowed his eyes at the sudden change in tone.

"Oh? A gift for me? From the Moon and Treasure of Roan Kingdom himself? Should I swoon?" Alberu answered dramatically. Tasha blinked slowly. Beacrox paused mid-sip of tea, visibly questioning reality.

"You may." Cale reached into his coat and pulled out a small, unmarked box wrapped in dark cloth. "But only after you see it."

"My, what could this be? A royal decree? A marriage proposal?" Alberu held it up with mock reverence, like a sacred relic bestowed on the most dramatic prince. Beacrox frowned at the teasing tone.

"Close. It's something rare, dangerous, and depressingly familiar. Just like you." Cale's face didn't change, but his mouth twitched slightly. Alberu snorted in amusement.

"You found this in the Forest of Darkness, didn't you?" Alberu murmured as he began unwrapping the cloth. His fingers stilled slightly when he felt the distinct pressure of dead mana coiled inside.

"You've always liked ominous things." Cale shrugged, already chewing on another piece of pastry like the gift was nothing more than a passing thought.

"Well, yes. But I usually date them, not collect them." Alberu replied smoothly. Beacrox blinked. Then Tasha blinked again.

"What? I have standards." Alberu said, looking between the two with theatrical flair.

"Debatable." Cale didn't even look up as he grabbed another dessert with practiced ease.

"How dare you, you moon-faced traitor." Alberu gasped, scandalized. "After all the Dasik I baked!"

"And yet you didn't bring any in animal shapes this time." Cale replied flatly, poking at another plate. "Shame. You're losing your touch, my Beloved Shining Sun."

"I'll have you know, I once made you those animal-shaped cookies, and you bit the head off first without even blinking."

"Efficiency." Cale's voice was deadpan as ever.

Their rhythm hit peak absurdity, volleying comments back and forth like well-trained performers on a stage only they could see.

"Are they always like this?" Tasha muttered under her breath as she sipped her tea slowly, her eyes going back and forth like this was a never-ending royal drama.

"I don't know." Beacrox just shrugged, arms crossed, his face unreadable.

"Did you just use your glib tongue to change the atmosphere?" Alberu's voice cut through the air again, his eyes narrowing suspiciously at Cale.

"Who knows?" Cale gave a tiny smile. Just enough to confirm the suspicion without saying anything else.

"Did you make the mold for these desserts?" Cale asked as he took some Hotteok and began eating.

"Yeah. I commissioned someone using the usual molds I work with. They did pretty well, even if it was their first time making these molds. And I'm trying to get a few ingredients from Breck, Whipper, and Jungle too." Alberu answered with a smirk as he noticed the subtle gleam in Cale's eyes. His face remained neutral, but his eyes had always been honest.

"You're doing all of this under the King's surveillance?" Cale raised an eyebrow.

"I know the ins and outs of his surveillance network." Alberu chuckled. "I took over that asset when I became the King in our first life. It wouldn't be hard to manipulate that surveillance with a bit of a magic circle."

Cale remembered how many magic circles and spells were created during the war. And as the days passed, those spells grew more dangerous and destructive, made for taking lives. But there were also some magic circles and spells created for convenience, designed to maximize movement and efficiency.

"I just let him see what he needed to see. Of course I didn't fully cover the recording device. It would be suspicious if his surveillance was suddenly cut off." Alberu added.

Both of them gave each other wide smiles. If a certain black dragon was present, he would definitely say, "Are you going to scam someone, human? Let's show that to White Star."

"Here is the full structure of the Soo'Ari Organization. Complete with insignia and how the system will work. I started implementing this today." Alberu said as he passed a few documents forward.

"I'll take a nap for a bit." Cale yawned, already feeling the fatigue from the morning to early noon activities. Usually, he would train with Ron, but since Ron wasn't there, slacking off became an easy option.

He didn't wait for Alberu's reply. He headed straight to the bedroom and immediately drifted into sleep.

"What's your relationship with the young master?" Beacrox looked at Alberu suspiciously. Alberu just smiled awkwardly.

"Well... we became lovers in our first life. And got married in our second. Don't look at me like that. I know we're still minors, so no intimacy for the time being." Alberu simply observed Beacrox's expression. It looked like that of a protective older brother who would pound someone into the ground if they made his younger siblings cry.

Tsundere indeed.

"I will tell this to my father. Since you already established your relationship with the young master before you both went back, I would assume you know how to limit yourself?" Beacrox just glared, but Alberu nodded and smiled.

"I know." Alberu remembered almost the exact conversation he had with the Molan duo in his first life. Despite the two "abandoning" Cale, he knew they cared.

"Had the same conversation with you in my first life." Beacrox just nodded as Alberu walked to his table and handed him a book.

"I knew you'd want the recipe, so I wrote it down even before you asked. You can also take home the molds I used for those desserts since I commissioned two copies." Beacrox opened the book and saw a thick cookbook filled with many recipes. It also included a few utensil blueprints. It was detailed, which Beacrox appreciated.

Tasha smiled, seeing that despite being a dark elf that many people scorned and hated, Alberu had found someone who loved him for who he was. Even if they were the same sex.

He looked more confident and carried himself like someone who knew he had someone behind him. The way Alberu worked harder since he "came" back was noticeable. The renovation was still ongoing, especially the garden, and Alberu declined most of the nobles who invited him.

Tasha knew those noble factions who invited Alberu simply wanted to see him try to curry favor with them. It fed their egos to believe they were important enough for a prince to "beg" for their support.

But the thirteen-year-old Alberu still went and did whatever they wanted. Now? He even threw those invitations into the fireplace and gave a direct reply that he didn't have time to attend their banquets.

He opened a few charities and departments to help the slums in the capital, hiring commoners as laborers when he decided to build some of the buildings he needed-creating work for those living in poverty.

They gained the full support of the commoners, so Tasha was aware of the quiet rumors about the First Prince providing jobs to them, which gave him high approval among the commoner population.

Alberu was laying a solid foundation for his ascension-and for the future of the Roan Kingdom.

Cale and Alberu slept in the same bed and cuddled the whole night. Cale stayed and helped Alberu with his paperwork a bit before dragging him to the bedroom to rest.

That morning, they returned to Henituse Castle after having breakfast together.

They were greeted by Ron, who wore a benign smile that made Cale a bit scared.

"Did you have fun outside, Young Master?" Ron asked while sharpening the dagger in his hands. Cale just smiled awkwardly.

"Yeah. Let's go back to the Forest of Darkness to hunt?" Cale could see that Ron seemed aggravated, so he wanted to help release that frustration first.

"Wonderful idea, Young Master," Ron said, smiling again.

That was how they ended up in this situation.

Ron used the opportunity to train Cale more since he had skipped his training the day before. Cale was being attacked by both a monster and Ron himself, so it felt like he was fighting two versus one.

Still, with all his experience, Cale was calmer. His expression was more serious and stoic than usual, and he was becoming increasingly aware of the presence that surrounded him.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Clashes of daggers and howls of monsters could be heard. The rustle of dried leaves and the smell of blood filled Choi Han's senses. His heart was beating rapidly at the thought that there was a human in this rather large forest he had navigated for hundreds of years.

He swore to himself that he had heard it, but maybe it was just a fragment of his imagination. Even if it was, he wanted to check. He wanted to know if it was really possible. If he had really seen or heard a human other than himself.

He felt like he was slowly losing himself to this dark forest, acting like the monsters he killed or avoided.

"Ifvv fkfds!" Choi Han's heart beat frantically as he ran toward the voices, finding a glimmer of familiarity. He ran toward the voices, hoping he might feel free from this miserable life.

As he ran, he suddenly felt a dagger graze his cheek.

A dagger.

A human weapon.

"Gmcxs" He could not understand the words, which made him frown. It was not Korean, and he was unfamiliar with the language.

"I don't understand you!" His voice was hoarse from the long period of not using it.

Aside from repeating his name over and over again so he would not forget it, he had thrown away everything. His pride, his dignity, and his memories, all just to survive.

He saw another human. Another one, but much younger. The younger man spoke to the older man, who seemed to be threatening him.

"How about now, can you understand me?" the younger one asked. Choi Han widened his eyes and nodded.

"I... I'm Choi Han!" he trembled as he spoke his name. He wanted to slump and drop his guard. He wanted to cry, to rant about what had happened, but these two were strangers to him.

"Okay, Choi Han-ssi. I'm Cale Henituse from the Northeastern Territory. This is the Forest of Darkness that we have guarded since the beginning of our kingdom. This is my butler and mentor, Ron. Why are you here? This place is dangerous, as it is filled with monsters." Choi Han looked at the younger one with a chaotic expression. He was breathing rapidly, unable to process everything.

"I... I don't know. I just woke up and... and I was in the middle of this forest." He decided to be truthful, as these people were the only hope he had of getting out and finding a place to stay, or at least reaching a safer place.

He listened to them speaking and looked at the butler. He could not understand, but he decided to wait and see what would happen.

Chapter Text

Cale hadn't planned this at all. He didn't plan to meet these protagonists this early. He planned to meet him a few weeks before the incident in Harris Village, push him to his husband, and then slack for a bit.

He cursed the God of Death. It was all his fault. He wanted to just run, but seeing the desperate and frantic look of Choi Han, he stopped. Frowning after Ron threw a warning dagger at Choi Han, he stopped him from harming Choi Han further.

"Stop, Ron. I know this person." Cale grabbed Ron's arm to stop him from killing Choi Han. He didn't seem to notice as he was breathing heavily and his eyes were clouded. Cale could see that Choi Han was unstable.

"Perhaps another person you met in your first life?" Ron looked at this rabid dog with a frown, thinking how this wild animal met his puppy.

Cale smiled awkwardly, avoiding the memory of their first meeting. They had long since passed those grievances after his talk with Choi Han. Both were at fault and had understood and forgiven each other's errors.

"He is the one who led the army against the ARM. He is a swordmaster and a reliable ally." Cale tried to suppress his tremble just remembering how strong this person was. Not as strong as White Star but strong enough that he could kill hundreds of enemies in one fell swoop.

"I see. I'll trust the young master then. This Ron would retreat for you to talk to him." Ron bowed slightly before Cale took a deep breath first.

"Hey, calm down, will you?" Choi Han didn't seem to understand him. Cale cursed the God of Death again. He was really incompetent. He couldn't even bother to let Choi Han learn the Western Continent's language. He probably also didn't know how to write in that language.

"How about now, can you understand me?" Choi Han widened his eyes and nodded. He seemed to fill with more hope and his eyes were getting clearer. At least he was stabilizing. He didn't want this person to run rampant once they left this forest.

"I... I'm Choi Han!" Cale could see that Choi Han seemed to be in a chaotic mental state. His eyes were watery as if he would cry at any moment. He seemed to be letting his guard down in front of him.

Cale sighed. He needed to at least stabilize him.

"Okay, Choi Han-ssi. I'm Cale Henituse from the Northeastern Territory. This is the Forest of Darkness that we have guarded since the beginning of our kingdom. This is my butler and mentor, Ron. Why are you here? This place is dangerous, as it is filled with monsters." Cale could see the chaotic expression of Choi Han. As Cale observed him, he was breathing rapidly and seemed unable to process everything.

"I... I don't know. I just woke up and... and I was in the middle of this forest." Cale was surprised that this punk was more honest than what he expected him to be.

But oh well, it wasn't really that bad.

"Follow me!" Cale just said before walking toward the Super Rock Villa. The villa he got from getting the Super Rock. Ron and Beacrox cleaned up this place a week ago and equipped it with all the things they needed. From the mana circle for flowing water, magic circles for lighting up the whole place, activating the fountain again, and putting modern kitchen equipment.

They even filled the place with new beddings and set up a place for each room they would need. Cale also asked to arrange a laboratory for a mage and a large training ground. Cale didn't hesitate to spend money to make sure these villas could accommodate strong people. So the training ground had a large number of magic circles preventing a collapse from those strong people he planned to recruit to train there.

Cale looked at Choi Han, who seemed shocked that there was a villa in the Forest of Darkness and had been looking around.

"Pick a room and take a bath. I'll take you out of this forest after you clean up a bit. The fifth floor is entirely mine." Cale just waved to him, in which Choi Han nodded and went inside, still looking left and right.

"He looks like a wild animal, young master." Ron just gave a benign smile, in which Cale just looked away.

"The God of Death threw him here in the Forest of Death when he was 17. He had been living here for more than 150 years. It started by the time that monster stopped attacking the nearby village 150 years ago. While technically older than you, his mental state was stuck at 17 years old because all he did here was survive and he hadn't had the time to develop." Cale just looked at the door that Choi Han entered. Ron just silently observed the expression of his puppy.

"I assume you have a pretty complicated relationship with him? This Ron is curious." Cale looked up to Ron, who was still smiling benignly.

His ears went red and he looked away.

"You could say that. It's... complicated. We're not enemies but we're not close either. I could trust him to have my back and he could trust me to have his, but we rarely speak to each other outside discussing strategy. It was all because of our unconventional meeting." Cale sighed and shook his head.

He didn't want to remember those memories again.

"You wanted to see me?" Alberu looks at the person in front of him with amusement. He found it cute seeing him so humble, bowing his head like a proper knight.

"Yes, Your Highness, I wanted to support you with my whole heart." Alberu just chuckled as he interlaced his fingers on his table.

"Why should I accept you?" General Wetton felt the chill in his spine just hearing those cold voices. He sneaks a peek at Alberu, who was looking down on him.

"What could you offer to me that could help me?" He remembers this general. One of the spies that the Third Prince planted on his side. He offered his "loyalty" to him when he became the crown prince, which would happen three months from now.

He knew from the start he was his brother's spy, but he let him in to see what was on his brother's mind, not knowing he just put a huge red dot on his head.

The Third Queen sold very vital information to the enemy camp in exchange for her and his brother's safety, resulting in the death of his father and the fall of an entire platoon of knights. All because this person was on his side. He won't forget this motherfucker who just wanted fame and power, thus after seeing Roan on the brink of collapse, they went to the enemy's camp. He truly wanted to strangle him, but he couldn't.

"Your Highness, I am a person with power in the knighthood. I have a voice to persuade an entire platoon to serve you." Alberu just smiled. The diplomatic smile he often used when he was at the advantage.

"Why do you think I couldn't get any support from the military?" A chilling aura emanates from Alberu that General Wetton could feel, as if he were looking at His Majesty.

A true ruler that gives a different pressure he couldn't explain.

"You're not even worth using as a pawn. Someone like you, who values fame and title, is someone I do not want on my side. So go back to my dearest brother and report to him that I don't need useless junk like you. Knight, please escort General Wetton out of the palace." Alberu felt calm.

Too calm for the situation right now. His knight, a disguised dark elf, took out General Wetton, who started to scream.

"You ungrateful bastard! You should be satisfied that I favor you. It's your grace to get my favor. I am a general of the knighthood!" General Wetton just screams like Alberu wasn't a prince, as if he wasn't saying anything blasphemous against a royal.

Alberu just chuckled, then goes in front of General Wetton.

People perceived him as a useless and powerless First Prince during this time in his first life. That's why it was a shock to the whole kingdom, especially to him, that it was he who became the crown prince instead of the Third Prince, who was favored by many. It was all because he had the king's favor.

It was also the reason why the Third Prince sent General Wetton to his side. To know how he did that.

Alberu just smirked.

No, he was a bit wrong.

It was the Third Queen who noticed, just like today.

"Send him to the dungeon and punish him for lèse-majesté. Send this recording device with him. And tell them I have multiple copies in case someone loses the evidence. And please, don't let someone talk to him." Alberu smiles at General Wetton, who looks at him with a pale complexion.

"You just made my work easier. And it seems like you forgot, I'm still a legitimate prince no matter how powerless I am." Alberu patted General Wetton's shoulder before going back to his chair, nonchalantly continuing his paperwork.

Cale looked at a somewhat refreshed Choi Han. He stared at him for a while, making Choi Han seem a bit uncomfortable.

"He looks somewhat familiar for some reason," Cale just thought while looking at Choi Han. He shook his head before getting a teleportation scroll out of his magic pouch.

"Stand on the circle, we'll teleport." Choi Han was somewhat bewildered but followed him. They teleported back to the Henituse Castle immediately.

"Hans!" Choi Han almost took out the wooden sword he carved himself to attack, but Cale was fast enough to stop him. He knew Choi Han would be a bit jumpy, especially since he had just gotten out of the Forest of Darkness.

"Young Master, you called?" Hans frantically asked.

"Give Choi Han a room in the guest wing. He'll be one of my guards from now on. He can't understand you, so beware of talking," Cale ordered.

"Ahhh," Hans looked bewildered but nodded.

"Follow him. He'll lead you to your new room. We'll talk later once you settle." Choi Han looked hesitant but nodded.

Cale went back to the Count's office to do his work. It was almost lunch, so he decided to start his work first.

They only stayed for about three hours at the Forest of Darkness instead of their plan of staying for five hours.

Choi Han had become a variable at the moment, as this was not part of the plan. But it would not be bad, and Choi Han would probably grow stronger now that he would be able to assess his own strength in a safe environment.

A stronger Choi Han would mean fewer tasks. Fewer tasks meant victory against White Star and the Hunters. And victory meant retirement.

And retirement meant a Slacker Life.

He nodded in satisfaction. Right, that was the new plan.

Now he would just talk to Choi Han to have him as part of his guard. Or maybe have him become a core member of Soo'Ari. Having a Swordmaster on your side had a lot of perks. Especially from a Kingdom that does not have any specialty, it meant a lot to have one Swordmaster. Plus, he only knew that the only Swordmaster aside from Choi Han who stayed here in Roan was part of the King's secret guards.

He knew this because of the incident caused by the Third Queen's betrayal. It killed the King, but the King did not fall without a fight.

He had a Highest Grade Mage and a Swordmaster who protected him before fighting the enemies head-on. It was the talk of the town because they lost a large chunk of territory because of this incident.

He would not let that happen.

Chapter Text

Choi Han doesn't know what to feel. On one hand, he felt grateful for the young kid and his butler who saved him from that dark forest. On the other hand, he felt conflicted and couldn't calm his heart or drop his guard completely. It was uncomfortable, and he felt more jumpy with every sound around him.

Even the smallest rustle could trigger him.

He didn't understand anyone other than the young kid. Choi Han decided to just be shameless as he felt more desperate. This was clearly a different world, far from the one he used to know.

He realized it when he activated his Aura for the first time. Even with just wooden swords, the Aura helped him survive and provided him with a sturdy weapon in hand. He used his hands to carve, to polish, and to build a primitive arsenal. He used everything he could.

He had settled into a guest room before Hans guided him to a room that seemed to be a fancy office. Choi Han immediately noted his escape route and all the things he could use as weapons in case something happened.

It took him a few minutes to realize that the young kid he had met seemed to be working on paperwork.

"I can see you're more stable than you were a while ago. Please, have a seat," said the butler who had accompanied him earlier. He stood silently near the young kid.

Choi Han remembered that the young kid had introduced himself, but he couldn't recall the name.

They both went to the nearby couch where refreshments were laid out on the table.

"I will introduce myself again. It seems like you forgot my name." A smile appeared on the kid’s face, one that made Choi Han freeze for a moment.

Even as small and young as he was, this kid’s presence was no joke. From how he carried himself, so poised, so polished, so refined, Choi Han couldn't treat him as just a child.

Choi Han sat cautiously on the couch, every muscle in his body tense. The young boy’s smile disarmed him more than it should have. He studied the child again. There was nothing childish about him. Even in this pristine office, surrounded by luxury, the boy radiated an unnatural level of composure and control. Choi Han had never met anyone like this young kid. He was so unique that he seemed to be born as a natural leader.

"You can call me Cale Henituse," the boy said.

"I’m the first son of Count Deruth Henituse." A childlike smile appeared on his face, but Choi Han could feel pressure. He was strong, yet weak at the same time. That was how his instinct described it.

Cale. Choi Han filed the name in his mind, repeating it in silence, anchoring it. He didn’t want to forget again. Forgetting was dangerous. Being careless was dangerous. This world was unfamiliar. He needed anchors.

"I heard you don’t understand our language yet," Cale continued, nodding to the butler. The man stepped forward, placing a thick book gently on the table. Choi Han glanced at it. It looked like a dictionary—Korean to the local script. He didn't know why there was this kind of book in such a strange world.

Was this connected to Earth? But the book seemed to be newly published, as he could still smell the fragrance of a new book.

“This will help you learn,” Cale said simply. His voice was calm, but there was a firm undertone.

“In return, I’d like to make a deal.” Choi Han instinctively straightened.

His gaze flicked to the book again, then back to the boy. Cale didn’t flinch under his scrutiny. His eyes were steady, like someone who had seen far too much for his age. Choi Han couldn’t understand how an eight-year-old could look so composed. But he didn’t feel any deceit from him. It was strange, stranger than the monsters he fought or the oddest things that happened to him in the dark forest.

"I will give you food, shelter, safety." He was calm, like undisturbed water. Choi Han chose to listen.

"And a place to stay for as long as you need. In return, I want your sword." Choi Han tensed.

"Not your life," Cale clarified, lips curving slightly. It was the moment Choi Han knew this young child was someone he couldn't mess with. His instinct screamed that this was dangerous. But he forced himself to calm down.

This was a deal. It meant the other party saw him as an equal. He knew this, despite almost forgetting his memories from Earth.

"Just your sword. I want you to become my knight. And, if possible, teach me a bit of swordsmanship in your spare time." Choi Han blinked.

Was this kid serious?

"I won’t demand blind loyalty. You can walk away whenever you like. But while you stay under my roof, while you eat the food and rest your head here, I ask for your sword to serve me and only me." Silence settled between them. Choi Han’s hand had unconsciously moved toward the edge of the table, his fingers brushing the dictionary’s cover.

Its texture felt real. Concrete. Something to hold onto in this disjointed new reality.

He glanced at Cale again. Still calm. Still poised.

Choi Han felt the weight of the offer. A home. A purpose. A place that didn’t try to chain him, but gave him a role. And a voice.

He bowed his head slightly.

“I accept.” The words were choppy. He could tell from Cale’s soft laugh that his accent must have been strange. But he meant it. Deep down, he meant it.

For now, he would follow this strange, composed child who didn’t feel like a child at all.

And maybe, just maybe, he would find stability in this unfamiliar world.

Even if his hands still twitched at the sound of every soft footstep beyond the door.

The next day, Freesia and Chief Kenelle enter his office. It's been a while since he saw the chief of the flame dwarves, who looks much healthier than the last time he saw him.

"Greetings, young master-nim," Cale could see the rise of confidence this dwarf got after their last transaction. It was before they settled near the outskirts and a relatively safe place in the Forest of Darkness.

"Good to see you again, Chief Kenelle. I hope you settled well in your new home, I presume?" Cale could see a slight pride in Chief Kenelle's face upon hearing the word home.

"We are all happy in our new home, young master. All thanks to you," Chief Kenelle just smiled.

Freesia just stays quiet the whole time.

"Since both of you are here, I won't beat around the bush. Chief Kenelle, I wanted to offer you a position as the head of the logistics and engineering division of Soo'Ari. The secret organization that will support both the First Prince and the one who will face a powerful enemy. I knew you already have an idea who it was, isn't?" Chief Kenelle froze and remembered his past before this young kid saved them.

He closed his eyes and saw those memories, the bullying of the Bear Tribe and Lion Tribe. The false hope that when they worked hard, they would get their own territory, the slavery they experienced in the hands of those people.

But he realized something.

"You... You saved us because of them?" Chief Kenelle shuddered.

"Don't get me wrong, Chief Kenelle. I won't force you to be on the front line nor put you and your tribe in a difficult or dangerous situation. There are people I intend to employ for that position. But if you or any of your tribe would want to take revenge on those who wronged you, I will definitely welcome you," Cale put his elbow on the table and interlaced his fingers together.

"What my offer is for you to become the head of a division that would work in the shadows. Creating technologies, mechanical tools, unique weapons, and equipment that would maximize your talent in tinkering and crafting. You and your whole tribe would be employed based on performance and commissions. And of course, you'll get a chance to create more unique crafts than the weapons I'm currently commissioning you. What do you think?" Cale knew the weakness of this tribe.

They are a tribe that had been scorned by other dwarf tribes because they cannot make any magical tools or devices. They had been bullied by the Bear and Lion tribes and became their slaves.

But this tribe is proud of their mechanical skills. Something he obviously knew due to his skill set on Earth. And Earth's tools, equipment, and devices all had mechanical parts he could teach to this tribe. They would surely thrive under his leadership.

It also means this tribe is a useful pawn, and he knew how to entice these people. He could see that they were shaken by his offer.

"You can sit for a while to think or you could call a meeting with your council. I hope to get your answer tomorrow at the latest," Cale gave a gentle and reassuring smile. He knew these people would accept this offer.

Because they are greedy.

Greedy to prove themselves. Greedy for knowledge, greedy for a better life.

They would become volunteer slaves to his and Alberu's hands while making them believe that their fate wasn't predetermined the moment Cale saved them. That they chose that path themselves.

After all, he won't forget the indirect grievance these people caused because of the same mechanical devices he's presenting to them right now.

He knew they would also join the frontline when the war came.

After all, exploiting debt of gratitude is a scary type of manipulation.

Chief Kenelle went to the couch at the corner in a daze, so Cale didn't pay attention to him and looked at the silent Freesia.

"Report," Cale smiled when Freesia's posture suddenly straightened. She cleared her throat but looked at the chief first.

Cale immediately knew what she meant.

"Don't worry about him, Miss Freesia. Please start the reporting." Freesia nodded.

She put down the summary documents that she was holding.

"We conducted the census of the slums from the day before yesterday until this morning with the help of a few people. The first set of questions included name, age, race, clothing size, and familial connections to other people. As our foundation. Then in the second set, we included asking if they know how to read and write, the languages they knew, and their nationalities as the second round of questions. The third question is if they have allergies, injuries, illnesses, and their overall height and weight based on the instructions you gave me. This is the first document," Freesia pointed out the first stack of documents she put down. Then put down another stack of documents.

"The papers marked with black ink at the bottom are my comrades that you wanted to employ and who accepted the contract you gave them. The papers without one are the people with the right talent that you wanted to employ legally. And the papers with ink above are those with great potential to be part of the organization. I noted their talents and confirmed it on the spot. My lord, may I ask where would be the main headquarters of our group?" Freesia maintained her politeness throughout the reporting.

Cale felt satisfied with Freesia's efficiency.

He'd been thinking of this and immediately remembered the house that his mother built near Mount Aegis, the mountain where the berries that they use as the main ingredient for the Henituse's famous wine grow.

"My dear Cale. You would need this house in the future, okay. Once you are grown up and decide to create your group, use this place as your main headquarters." Cale smiled sadly, remembering those words his mother said.

He really would need it.

Chapter Text

Caught up by memories, the room went silent for a while before they dismissed it.

He smiled sadly for a moment upon remembering those memories.

"Even after death, you're still looking out for me," Cale thought before he looked at Freesia again.

"I'll give you access to the main base," Cale sighed before taking a parchment paper.

"Come here, Miss Freesia." Freesia immediately went next to Cale before Cale put up a sound barrier and started to draw the house that he remembered in his memories. Not detailed, just a sketch.

"This is the Villa Red Jewel in Mount Aegis in our vineyard. It’s a two-storey villa that my mother created when I was just born. This villa has a wide underground space that covers the entire mountain. You could almost say Mount Aegis is a hollow mountain because of this place. But it was fortified to the point that it's indestructible and wouldn't budge to earthquakes." Cale circled a place where a stack of barrels was placed at the back of the villa.

"One of the entrances is this place. It was made with the same mechanics used for hiding a secret room in Whipper Kingdom’s magic tower. The place is ready for operation but lacks necessities and won't function immediately due to the lack of ingredients and resources. But overall, it's a great place as the main base of our group." Freesia couldn't help but feel awe toward this young boy.

"I want you and the others to transform this place into a good main base. Include a strategy room, intelligence wing, finance hall, logistics and research lab, archives, combat training room, healing ward, weapon room, operative halls, lounges, spare rooms, and a center hall. Add more rooms if needed. Specifically, make use of the shell villa as a lounging or resting place. Money is not a problem. Just make sure the people who enter are all trustworthy." Cale went to one of the cabinets in the Count's room.

He remembered when he was just a kid in his first life, they hid a lot of things inside the office. That included this piece—a pendant that would access the villa his mother gifted him. The villa that would become his main base.

"Later, we'll go there together. Contact the people first." Cale took down the sound barrier, and Freesia nodded before leaving.

Cale had a lot of plans, and he wanted to build them together with Alberu and his family.

For the first time in his two lifetimes, he was looking forward to his future.

Cale continued his work for a week, and it all happened one morning when one of Cale’s informants reported a sudden influx of illegal human trafficking in the Southwest Region. Some of the victims had been kidnapped from different areas, including his own territory, which enraged Cale greatly.

He informed Alberu and launched a silent investigation, which eventually led them to a vassal household—Chryshi.

After reporting to Alberu, both of them looked grim.

"This is serious..." Alberu massaged his temple and sighed deeply.

"Singten Merchants Guild is from the Empire. They are selling our people to the Empire... Damn it, why didn’t I know this? How long have they been operating already?" Cale could see Alberu trembling.

Because it only meant that their enemies were much more powerful than they expected.

"I knew that white thing had a lot of cards up his sleeves. But having the Empire too? That means they already had a foothold on the Western Continent before we even noticed. Do you have full details about the Mogoru Empire?" Cale remained calm, sipping his daily lemon tea on the other side of the communication device.

"The official report says they aligned with the White Star seven years after the Henituse County fell. Aside from a brief war against the Jungle and Whipper Kingdom, and the time they sent 'help' to Caro Kingdom, which is still unaccounted for, the Mogoru Empire has remained neutral," Cale could see the frustration on Alberu's face.

"I knew that bastard was really a psycho. In the novel, the author wrote that he was the culprit behind the fire in the Jungle," Alberu frowned. He had never known this piece of information.

"It's hard to get intel during the 'calm before the storm' timeline. Everyone is tense and on edge," Alberu confessed. Cale completely understood. They had both experienced the helplessness and doubt that lingered during that time.

"It will not happen again," Cale put down his teacup and looked at Alberu's face with determination.

"I won't let that happen," Alberu smiled and nodded.

"I'll take care of this. Don’t worry. I’ll handle it as discreetly as possible," A plan immediately began to form in Cale's mind.

After compiling the documents, he took Ron and Choi Han and tore a teleportation scroll. They entered the Southwest Region incognito, heading straight to a bar.

Some people looked at them strangely, but Cale didn’t care. He immediately spotted the person he had been looking for.

"Hello, Auntie," Cale gave his sweetest smile, which made Choi Han and Ron exchange weird looks.

"Kid, you do know that children aren’t allowed in this kind of place? And thank you for calling me Auntie. You’re so sweet," the woman said as she gracefully sipped her alcohol, looking at Cale with a playful demeanor.

"I wanted to talk to Auntie about something in private. Would that be possible?" The woman was baffled but seemed to decide the kid wasn’t a threat. Oh, how wrong she was.

They went to a private area, and the woman still acted playfully toward Cale.

"Is this private enough?" Cale looked at Ron, who immediately tore another scroll—a sound barrier—which shocked the woman.

Cale’s innocent demeanor suddenly changed.

"My name is Cale Henituse, Duchess Sonata Gyerre. I came here on behalf of the First Prince," Cale gave a business-like smile that caught Sonata off guard.

Her eyes widened as she recognized the boy in front of her and realized it was indeed Cale Henituse.

"The Henituse family is now supporting the First Prince?" She looked at him warily. The Gyerre household supported the Third Prince. It was incredibly rude and appeared to be a political attack for Cale to show up here.

"The Henituse County will not officially support the First Prince for the time being. It will remain neutral until the right moment," Cale vaguely informed Sonata that the Henituse family currently supported the First Prince from the shadows.

"What do you want?" Sonata didn’t lower her guard.

She had a feeling that she had been locked as his target—and she was right.

Cale dropped a pile of papers in front of Duchess Sonata.

"These are documents that state one of your vassals is committing treason and running an illegal human trafficking ring. They include time stamps, lists of both confirmed and unconfirmed names of those who were kidnapped and sold to foreign merchant guilds," Cale placed a recording device next to the pile.

"This is a copy of the recordings our people collected during the investigation," Sonata stared at Cale in horror.

Cale dropped another pile of documents onto the existing stack.

"These documents show the payments, receipts, and the merchant guilds involved. They have close ties to Mogoru’s Imperial Prince. The First Prince wants you to clean up this mess as quietly as possible," Cale smiled warmly, making Sonata uncomfortable.

"What do you want?" she repeated, anxiety rising rapidly. Was he trying to force the Gyerre family to support the First Prince?

"The First Prince and I have no intention of pressuring you into supporting him. But the First Prince wishes for your household to train your military as if war could break out at any moment," Cale observed the deepening frown on Sonata’s face.

"For what? Are we going to war?" Sonata’s frown grew heavier. She was too sober for this kind of conversation.

"There’s a secret organization that has been moving in the shadows. They came from the Eastern Continent and are now making their way into the Western Continent..." Cale paused and smiled sadly.

"Because of the investigations we are currently conducting, we’ve gathered information that this secret organization is working with both the Empire and three of the Northern Kingdoms, for reasons still unknown. The First Prince doesn’t want to assume anything, but it’s better to be prepared. Feel free to investigate this information yourself, but please, don’t endanger yourself," Cale wasn’t sure of the Empire’s motives, but he had a strong feeling they were all connected.

"A war..." Sonata looked at the young boy in front of her. He stood up and gave a small bow.

"As a parting gift, I’m giving you this. Please open it in secret. If you need answers to any of your other questions, feel free to contact the First Prince," Cale handed Duchess Sonata a magic pouch and smiled before leaving her in a daze.

The magic pouch was filled with all the evidence she needed to give justice to her fallen family. Even without pressuring the duchess, Cale was sure they would support him.

A year later, Cale just went with the flow of his daily routine. Working with the Territory's paperwork for three hours, two hours of work to the Soo'Ari, lunch, four hours of meetings three times a week, two hours of reading and studying. Dinner, then three hours of training in the evening. Alberu had the same schedule for him and it worked really well for both of them.

Of course, Cale would occasionally slack off or Beacrox would force him to take a rest every single Sunday. That was his rest day.

The territory became a tourist spot and business was booming. Soo'Ari became bigger too, which meant Cale made his family richer than they already were and still had his own line of money. Cale opened a lot of businesses that targeted multiple demographics. From babies to old people, he really did not hold back.

Which meant, again, money flowing to him was like water. Cale would fund the project of him and Alberu but made sure his investment would return.

He found three mines in the Forest of Darkness and immediately made the Soo'Ari take over. It was a magic stone mine, a nickel iron, and diamonds. Alberu laughed so loudly when Cale told him about it.

After all, they would snatch some mages in the Whipper Kingdom when the civil war started.

Cale had his rare days of total rest. Just casually reading some novels while a communication device that did not need a mage was active beside his table. Alberu working on the other side just watching each other.

It was a habit both Alberu and Cale developed when they found out about the mines. Just letting the communication device activate even when they would not talk for hours because of work.

Choi Han was outside, training with the knights and some disguised members of Soo'Ari. He was now one of the core members of the group and had been doing well.

"It's funny how a lot of them are getting desperate," Alberu chuckled. Cale just looked at him with a smile.

"Let them be," just a casual remark from Cale.

The nobles had indeed been desperate. Nine months ago, Alberu was proclaimed by the King as the Crown Prince of the Roan Kingdom. It was shocking news to the whole noble society as they either supported the Third Prince who had the favor of the King and was the son of the current Queen, or the competent Second Prince who had strong backing from his maternal family.

The First did not even cross their minds.

But after the proclamation, they started to notice Alberu's movements. The silent project for giving the poor people a better life, the free training and seminars to create talents, the unknown influx of businesses in Huiss City that created more jobs.

Ordinances that made the lives of civilians much better. And the sudden popularity of the First Prince among the common folks. They realized too late that the First Prince was building his own foundation.

It was also a sudden shock for the nobles that the Duke Gyerre of the Southwest expressed their support towards the First Prince. It baffled a lot of them. How did it happen?

Of course, it was an entire scheme of Cale Henituse, his future husband.

The Gyerre really did see a pattern and traces of this secret organization, which deeply shook the Duchess because of how extensive the power of this group was. She stopped diving deeper once she confirmed what Cale had said.

The magic pouch was what brought the Gyerre to the First Prince's turf. The fact that the First Prince had already recognized a threat this significant while others remained ignorant spoke volumes about his dedication and power.

He wasn’t really the powerless prince others perceived him to be. But the magic pouch remained the nail in the coffin because, no matter how much money she had poured into investigations, she couldn’t find the culprit. Yet after receiving the magic pouch, she verified everything and got a lead immediately.

The gift the First Prince had given her was genuine, even including the details of the culprit and how they had committed the crime. And it turned out to be one of her most trusted subordinates—the very person she had placed in charge of the investigation.

She couldn’t help but feel enraged. Still, they conducted their business as discreetly as possible so as not to alert the snake.

Chapter Text

Choi Han smiled after three hours of rigorous training with the knights. All of them were slumped on the floor, but most looked satisfied because they had become stronger.

Choi Han couldn't help but feel even happier since he accepted the deal of becoming Cale Henituse's sword. He had found out that the crown prince and Cale were Korean in their previous lives. It shocked him, but he still felt more at home after the confrontation. He seemed to feel even closer to the two.

Choi Han would teach Alberu and Cale sword arts. Of course, Cale leaned more toward daggers, so they both had different training regimes.

He was in bliss when Beacrox started cooking Korean cuisine that Cale had gifted him on his birthday. He even added some famous dishes from other countries that he knew, like lasagna, spaghetti, burgers, sandwiches, pasta, dumplings, and more.

Beacrox had to make some dishes entirely from scratch because most of the recipes were hard to replicate due to ingredient issues. Still, Choi Han could now eat Korean food every now and then.

Choi Han also joined the Soo'Ari Organization and received the codename Orion. He still couldn't figure out his exact role, but Cale gave him the task of teaching knights and Soo'Ari members sword arts, and he was more than willing.

Choi Han felt more welcomed in Henituse County and was grateful to Cale.

After knowing that Cale and Alberu were now older than Ron, he treated the two as adults during serious conversations but treated them like children during casual meetings.

It had been hectic, but he still loved it.

While finishing his last move for today's training, there was sudden chaos outside. He saw Hans frantically running to their barracks.

"The Count is back!" Hans looked more anxious than usual. Suddenly, the knights' mood dropped, and Choi Han saw many of them frowning.

"Hilsman, what happened? Why do you all suddenly look gloomy?" Choi Han asked as he observed the others.

"The Count... after the late Countess died, he neglected our young master-nim!" Hilsman gritted his teeth and unconsciously clenched his fists.

"It was the young master who took care of the funeral ceremony, took care of the territory, while the Count just left without saying anything. It's frustrating because the young master was just eight and had to deal with adult matters because the Count couldn't do that himself," he said, genuinely upset on behalf of Cale.

"He is a good Count, since he never abused his power, but he is terrible at parenting."

"The young master looks more like the late Countess. The Count couldn't look at the young master without seeing her image. I understand he is grieving. But to completely neglect the young master, that's an all-time low," the knights whispered in hushed tones.

Some knights were summoned to welcome the Count back, and the place became a mess.

Choi Han felt worried and immediately went to Cale's study room, since today was his resting day.

Cale could feel the tremor of his body.

He was supposed to rest the entire day, but Beacrox went to deliver the snack and bad news, at least for them.

The Count is back.

Cale subconsciously grabbed Ron's sleeve as he trembled. He couldn't control his senses as if he were overwhelmed. All he could hear was the deafening static in his head. His fist was white from clenching.

He can't...

Cale felt like he couldn't face his family again. The corpse of them suddenly flashed through his mind.

The way Lady Violan used her body to shield him, Basen's limping body, Lily's blood she vomited before dying.

And the sincere apology of his father before falling.

It felt like a broken record that repeated over and over again in his head.

"Cale..." His senses returned upon seeing Ron hugging him and Alberu, who was supposed to be in the palace, squeezing his hand.

Beacrox was guarding the room but looked worried.

"You had a panic attack," Alberu squeezed his hand again, assuring him more. He tried to catch his breath, clutching so hard to Ron's clothes and not letting go.

"I... I'm sorry," Cale could still feel the tremors in his body.

"He seems to have a fever," Ron put his hand on Cale's forehead to check, but Alberu just shook his head.

"It's probably the Record. He'll be fine after stabilizing himself and releasing the tension from his body," Alberu took Cale from Ron’s clutch, carrying him to the nearest couch while Cale was stabilizing his Record.

Ron gave him a cold wet towel, and then Alberu carefully wiped Cale’s body to release some of the heat. Ron could see how practiced Alberu was, as if he had done this multiple times and could move with ease, unbuttoning the first two buttons of Cale’s clothes with one hand while his other hand kept squeezing his.

Ron could see the silent whisper of Alberu, keeping Cale stable like he was subconsciously doing everything.

After giving the towel to Ron, Alberu just pulled Cale into his embrace and squeezed his hand.

Cale fell asleep, which was the better outcome if Cale really could not manage his emotions.

“Cale seems to have had a flashback of what happened in the Henituse in our first life. Ron, please don’t let anyone go inside for the time being. He needs to adjust,” Alberu smiled sadly and sighed.

Ron just nodded and gave a benign smile.

He carefully made the towel cold again and put it on Cale’s forehead.

“Cale rarely has a panic attack...” Alberu felt like the two needed to know about this.

“He lost himself to the persona he made in his first life. Because he acted as a trash to make the vassals accept Lady Violan and Basen in the territory. So much for a barely 9-year-old,” Alberu chuckled, but Ron could feel the grief in that chuckle.

“Our second life made it worse... It took me 20 years for him to tell me about his childhood. He grew up emotionally stunned because if he expressed his emotions, he was either humiliated or beaten so badly that even a soft touch could make him flinch,” Alberu gritted his teeth as his eyes darkened. Ron had an itch to take his dagger out and go hunting.

“I tried to find that bastard, but lucky for him, he died at the hands of monsters. If I had found him alive, I would have made his life a living hell,” a vicious glint flashed in Alberu’s eyes.

“Clearly a person who didn’t deserve to live,” Beacrox seemed agitated too.

It was cut short when someone knocked on the door. Beacrox opened a small gap to see who it was and saw Choi Han, who seemed to have run there as he was breathing heavily. Beacrox frowned but remembered Choi Han had just finished training, so that must be the reason he was breathing heavily.

“What do you want, you punk?” Beacrox looked at Choi Han, who was also frowning.

“Is Cale-nim okay? I... I heard that the Count is back,” Choi Han deliberately lowered his voice as he assumed the topic about the Count was something sensitive.

“Guard the door and don’t let anyone in until we say so. Understand?” Choi Han immediately picked up that something had happened. He halted and stood by the door. Clenching his fist, something had happened to Cale.

And since Beacrox, who seemed to be close to Cale, told him to guard the door, it seemed like Cale didn’t want to see the Count immediately.

He anxiously led his lover, Violan, inside.

"Everyone, this is Lady Violan," he announced with a smile. It was a far cry from the almost dull look he had worn a year ago.

"She will become the new Countess of our territory. I want everyone to welcome her in a manner befitting her new title." Murmurs began to spread, but Violan stood there with the poise and grace of a noble. The staff greeted Violan, and she nodded in acknowledgment.

"This is Basen. He will be adopted into the family as the second son." The shy Basen hid behind Lady Violan, peeking out at the others before Deruth dismissed everyone.

Deruth tried to find Cale in the crowd but felt a pang of disappointment when he did not see him. Guilt immediately consumed him. He now realized how wrong he had been to leave Cale alone. He decided he would talk to him tomorrow.

He did not know if he could face Cale directly at the moment because of the guilt he felt. He did not know he would be forced to see the person he most wanted to avoid.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Chapter Text

Beacrox, sleeves rolled up and apron pristine despite the flour dusting the table, was calmly slicing carrots with his usual surgical precision. He looked more like he was handling a scalpel than a kitchen knife.

"You are doing that too perfectly again," Cale said from the stool, watching with a small pout. He had his own apron tied haphazardly around his tiny waist, slightly crooked. His sleeves were already dusted with flour, and a smudge of something creamy dotted his cheek.

Beacrox stared at him for thirty seconds before going back to his work.

"Precision is necessary," Beacrox replied without looking up. "A badly cut carrot ruins the texture." Beacrox secretly smiled while looking at his dongsaeng... young master. He seemed to be slowly healing despite having the ability to remember everything he saw.

He liked that Cale could hum in contentment at this rather mundane work.

"I like them a little uneven." Cale appeared to frown, but Beacrox saw it as pouting.

Beacrox raised an eyebrow and finally glanced at the boy. "You like things a little chaotic. You are really a menace." Cale grinned, proud of the title.

They worked in companionable silence for a while. Cale moved to knead dough, small hands pressing rhythmically into the soft mound.

It was not his first time doing this, and Beacrox did not correct him. In fact, the man only glanced over once to check the texture, then gave the slightest of nods, his version of high praise.

Beacrox slid the tray of evenly sliced vegetables toward the stove, setting them to sauté in a pan. Cale's nose wrinkled as the smell hit him.

"You added the garlic early."

"Just a bit. You will like it." Cale tilted his head, skeptical, but he did not argue.

While the vegetables simmered, Beacrox moved to check the small pot of cream on the other burner. He stirred it slowly, silently.

"You are being quiet today," Cale observed.

Beacrox glanced at him again. "You are always quiet when kneading dough." That made Cale stop. He blinked and looked at Beacrox, who had a small smile.

"That is very specific. Did you observe even my expression while cooking?" Cale looked at him suspiciously.

"You are predictable." Beacrox's tone was dry, but his eyes softened when he noticed the flour in Cale's hair. He moved over, flicked a bit off gently, and returned to his task without saying anything else.

Cale did not comment, but his lips twitched into a smile.

They assembled the dish together at the counter. It was a layered vegetable pie, something Cale had first eaten in one of his old lives and recreated from memory.

Beacrox had perfected it on the fifth try, muttering about ratios and oven temperatures until it turned out just right. Today, Cale was determined to make it from scratch, mostly by himself.

Beacrox only helped when asked.

"You are folding it wrong," he said bluntly as Cale tried to crimp the edges of the pie crust.

"I am doing it the way I like." Beacrox paused. He let him have fun even if he did not like being messy while preparing dishes. So he stepped back.

"As long as it does not leak." Cale nodded in satisfaction, as if he had won a fight.

They finished the pie and placed it in the oven. Cale leaned against the counter, arms crossed, tapping his finger idly.

"How long?"

"Thirty-five minutes."

"That is too long." Beacrox pulled out a small dish from the side cupboard.

"That is why I made extra filling earlier." He handed a spoonful to Cale, who perked up.

"You cheat," Cale mumbled with a full mouth.

Beacrox finally smiled again, just a little.

"Only when I know you will complain." They sat at the small table in the corner, eating bits of warm filling with toasted bread as they waited. Cale swung his legs idly, the tips of his toes just barely brushing the floor.

"Beacrox-hyung?"

"Hm?"

"If I became a chef, would you work in my restaurant?" Beacrox looked at him for a long moment.

"Are you serious?" Cale shrugged.

"I think it would be fun. You would be the scary sous-chef, and I would be the genius head chef. We would only cook food we like. We could wear disguises so no one would know who we are." Beacrox leaned back in his chair.

"Only if I get to throw out anyone who annoys me." Cale chuckled and nodded.

"That is what the manager is for."

"I will be both, then." Cale snorted, then paused, more serious now.

"Thanks for doing this with me." His voice was soft, and there was a smile on his face.

Beacrox did not respond immediately. He looked at the boy in front of him-flour in his hair, bright eyes behind tired shadows that did not belong on someone so young.

"You did not need to ask. You know, having you as a partner in the kitchen was not that bad. You are not as messy as I initially thought," he said finally.

"To be honest, my motor skills were off. I am still adjusting to my small body despite being in this body for a year. Sometimes I make movements that are too big for my frame. Partly because of my record. I was not really messy in the kitchen because I hate wasting food..." Beacrox had an idea why Cale stopped. He had a talk with Alberu about what their previous world looked like.

It would not be wrong to assume Cale experienced starvation. So he was glad when the timer rang softly from the oven.

They stood up together, neither rushing. Beacrox grabbed the mitts, but Cale tugged his sleeve.

"Let me do it." Beacrox hesitated a bit.

"I will be careful."

"All right." The oven door creaked open, and Cale reached in with practiced care, pulling out the golden pie. It smelled rich and warm and homey.

"Perfect," Cale said, looking proud of the pie they made.

Beacrox stared at it for a second.

"It is crooked." The pie's presentation was a bit odd. There was a little leak of cream on the side, and the middle had a huge lump that made everything look chaotic.

"I like it a little chaotic," Cale grinned.

And Beacrox, reluctantly, smiled back. Still, they sliced it with the right proportions. Both of them started to clean the kitchen when Violan suddenly entered the room.

"Lady Violan." Beacrox bowed slightly, and Cale just greeted her.

"Uhm... I just... wanted to invite you for tea?" Violan's sentence turned into a question when she saw the messy look of Cale.

Cale suddenly offered Violan a piece of pie on a saucer. It seemed like a pie made of vegetables.

"We made this. Would you like to try?" Violan saw the big doe eyes of Cale and could not help but think that he looked cute. She accepted the saucer and took a bite.

Violan could taste the cream in the pie, and the blend of vegetables inside. It was savory, and she could distinguish different flavors that blended together.

"It is... delicious," she murmured.

"That is a Vegetable Cream Pie. It could be a snack or a main dish depending on what vegetables you want to add." Cale's smile seemed infectious, and Violan smiled too.

"Can I have some of this and share it with Basen? How about joining us for tea?" Cale nodded and looked at himself.

"I think I will need to change clothes first. I will tell Hans to prepare these in the garden." Violan smiled and nodded. Hans was called, and Beacrox continued to clean the kitchen.

Chapter Text

They talked about rather mundane things, like the upcoming wedding in three weeks. Violan asked Cale about his interests, especially his hobbies and favorites. Basen was a bit shy, but Cale included him in their conversation.

Cale felt as if he were dreaming, especially considering how strange his relationship with them had been in his first life.

"Basen..." The stern tone in Cale's voice made Basen jolt. He straightened his sitting position and looked at Cale.

"Hy-hyung?" He looked at him nervously.

"Remember this. You are now part of the Henituse household. No matter where you go, your family name is Henituse. Got it? Listen to me, unless you don't want to survive. People in the vassal families will not be kind to you. They will treat you as if you are beneath them. If this happens, do not hesitate to fight back. If you're overwhelmed, run and come to me. I will deal with them. Do you understand?" Cale looked at Basen, who almost cowered.

"But... I... I am not a Henitu-"

"You are. From the moment my father decided you would be adopted into this household, and from the moment you stepped foot in this castle, you became a Henituse. It is not about the blood that flows within you but about who you truly are. So I want you to stand firm and proud because you are above those vassals. Do not let their words ruin you, okay?" Basen nodded repeatedly.

Violan looked at the satisfied expression on Cale's face with a dumbfounded look.

But she smiled, seeing that Cale seemed to accept their presence in the house.

They talked for a bit more before Cale excused himself to go back.

He went immediately to Ron and began his training.

But the county had progressed so rapidly that the paperwork needing completion had doubled compared to the amount Deruth usually handled in a whole day.

"You mean, all of this? I need to deal with all this paperwork?" Deruth was in shock, overwhelmed by how tall the paper stack was. It was even taller than him when he stacked it together while standing.

"Er... The Young Master deals with that amount every day. Sometimes more, and he usually finishes it before lunch. Sometimes, just an hour after lunch," Hans said awkwardly.

"He didn't mix up the important documents?" Deruth asked again.

"Young Master managed to put fifteen staff members in the dungeon because of embezzlement of funds. He even stripped one of the vassal households of their privileges without any rebuttal working. And he seized more than five assets from other vassals due to malpractice and abuse of power. He puts notes on each report, especially in finance. So... I don't think he messed up anything?" Deruth was dumbfounded. How would he deal with this in one day when he couldn't even finish the stacks of documents he dealt with before?

"The Young Master created a few departments in the bureau to lessen the paperwork and filter it. Uhm... You could ask the secretarial department for help," Hans said awkwardly.

He was used to seeing the table clean before lunch and Cale out to train. So when Deruth started to deal with the paperwork, he got overwhelmed by everything.

Deruth rushed toward these new departments and asked for help, which made the others look at him strangely, but they complied.

Deruth had barely sat down in front of the towering stack of paperwork when the first staff member entered with a report.

"Count-nim, here is the report for the weekly expenses of our department," a young man said, his voice shaky from the nervousness of presenting to the new Territory Lord.

"We've managed to keep the expenses under control, but there were some unexpected costs due to the repairs needed for the eastern bridge. However, we've reduced the maintenance costs by a small margin with the new vendors as Young Master approved last month." Deruth nodded absently, trying to absorb the details.

This was nothing like what he'd been accustomed to under his father's reign. The sheer weight of responsibility was unlike anything he'd expected.

Another staff member entered, holding a thick folder.

"Count-nim, this is the summary of the materials currently being distributed to the southern farms. There was a delay in delivery because of the recent storm, but everything should be on track to arrive within the next few days. The southern district is expecting a slight surplus in crops this year, thanks to the irrigation project we started." Deruth's head swam. Crop surpluses? Irrigation projects? He hadn't even noticed any of this happening. When did this happen?

He was far too busy getting bogged down in the financials. He couldn't even start to sign some papers when someone entered again.

"Count-nim, the third quarter financial summary is here." A slightly older woman, who appeared to be in charge of finances, handed him another heavy stack of documents.

"We've also caught three separate cases of embezzlement from the vassals in the southern regions. The culprits have been detained and their assets seized, just as you instructed. The investigation is still ongoing, but this has definitely boosted our treasury by a small amount." Deruth felt his jaw tighten with the sheer amount of the paperwork.

He could barely understand how Cale had managed to not only oversee these departments but also take decisive actions like this. Every report left him feeling smaller.

"Count-nim," a young woman said, stepping forward with a small book.

"I have the update on the training program for the knights. There's been significant progress, and the recruits are advancing faster than anticipated. The new drills as young master recommended recommended are proving effective, but... the knights are asking for more rest days to avoid exhaustion. I've made a note of it in this report."

Deruth waved his hand in acknowledgment and sighed. He felt dizzy and just wanted to lay down next to Violan.

"More rest days, huh? I'll keep that in mind." He wasn't sure how much power he had to make those kinds of decisions, but he'd heard enough about Cale's approach to delegation. He would figure it out.

The next staff member to enter seemed almost apologetic.

"Count-nim, we've received complaints from the neighboring villages about the road conditions leading to the capital. It's become difficult to transport goods efficiently, and there's been an increase in accidents due to the worsening state of the roads. We could either allocate more funds for the repairs or consider outsourcing it to a construction company." He seemed so awkward upon looking at Deruth, who was swamped in stacks upon stacks of papers.

"Understood," Deruth muttered.

"Let's go with outsourcing for now. Keep it affordable." Another employee approached, this one with a report about the state of the local mine.

"Count-nim, this is an update on the iron mine. There's been an issue with the labor force-some workers have fallen ill, and others have been demanding better pay. The mine's output has decreased slightly, but it's still meeting quotas. The new supervisor that the young master hired has proven to be quite competent, though." Deruth sighed, rubbing his temple. Illness, labor disputes, and mine quotas.

It was like everything needed attention all at once.

Another report came, this one from the agriculture department.

"Count-nim, the newly implemented crop rotation system is showing great promise. The northern fields have seen a noticeable increase in yield, and we're beginning to expand the system to other regions. However, some areas are facing resistance from older landowners. They don't trust the new methods."

"Make sure they understand how this will benefit them in the long run," Deruth said absently, though his mind was racing. He hadn't realized how much work Cale had put into all these projects.

"Count-nim, we've successfully completed the construction of the new hospital, as per the previous directive. The medical staff is already moving in and preparing to assist with the local health issues. It should be open for public use by the end of this week." Deruth barely had time to take in all the new information before yet another staff member walked in with a thick, handwritten ledger.

"Count-nim, here is the report on the border patrol. There were a few minor skirmishes with nearby bandits, but everything is under control. The patrols are being increased for the next quarter." Everywhere he turned, there was something new to be dealt with.

Cale had made all of this look effortless, but Deruth felt his exhaustion creeping in. His old life had been simple compared to this.

Finally, a familiar voice called from the doorway.

"Your Grace," Hans said with a slight awkward smile.

"Would you like to take a break and get some fresh air? It seems like you're overwhelmed." Hans clearly wasn't used to the environment because Cale always kept one to two stacks at maximum on the table. Even with that peak hour of staff and in-charges swarming the office, never once did Cale get overwhelmed by the work.

Deruth let out a strained laugh.

"I don't think I have time for a break, Hans." He sighed and just started to read the documents. He felt like he would need a week to finish this all.

"Well, perhaps after you've finished some of that," Hans gestured to the ever-growing stack of paperwork.

"Your Grace still has to attend your wedding planner later."

"Right..." Deruth muttered, already lost in the pile of reports once more. His thoughts drifted to Cale's organized, flawless approach.

If he was going to survive this, he would need to figure out how Cale managed to do it all without losing his mind.

Since Cale doesn't have any work, he just stays in the study room doing some hobbies, with Ron by his side. Choi Han would usually be in the barracks training with the others. Just like usual, Cale activates the communication device and calls Alberu while both of them are just doing their work.

Cale is currently painting a detailed art piece of both Jour and Miranda, Alberu's mother, sitting in a gazebo having tea while smiling happily. It was based on the record he had and the portrait of the late consort that he saw at the palace.

But at this moment, Cale has just started and he is still working on the background.

He has a smile that Alberu often sees when Cale has done something mischievous.

"What did you do this time?" Alberu's voice is casual, as if asking about the weather outside.

Like he is used to his lover's antics.

Kim Rok Soo is, after all, a menace in society. This guy is someone who could casually stroll around and end up causing an explosion in the middle of a city. Or sometimes, make an entire illegal guild collapse internally.

They know it is him but don't know how and why it happened.

And this is also the person who slapped a prime minister's face in front of millions of people because it was live-streamed. And yet, the one who faced repercussions was the prime minister, who was impeached from his position.

"I did nothing. And that's the problem." Cale smiles brightly and sips a lemon tea, making him wince because of the sourness. Alberu immediately looks at Cale.

He stops working and has an enlightenment.

"Oh... OH!" Alberu suddenly feels pity for Deruth.

"But he should be lucky it wasn't drastic," Alberu thinks and shakes his head.

It is a mild pettiness, but he is sure the count would be buried in his office for more than a month just to deal with that amount of work that Cale could finish in one morning.

Ron smiles benignly and pours another cup of lemon tea, which makes Cale pout.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Early in the morning, the scent of ripened grapes hung in the air, a sweet, earthy perfume that most would associate with lazy vineyard strolls and vintage wine. The casual stroll of Freesia in the vineyard had been a normal occurrence in this area.

"Freesia-nim! Good morning!" one of the staff said with a smile. She gave a new harvest of fruit to Freesia while smiling.

"This is part of the harvest for today. We want you to send this to young master-nim. His program has been a huge help to the vineyard, especially the new irrigation plan."
Freesia accepted it with a smile.

"This old lady will certainly take this to the young master later." Freesia loved her job.

She wasn't restricted like when she was in the Assassin's Guild or forced to break her moral code. In fact, the vision of Cale and hers were almost aligned. That was what she loved in her job.

She was also paid generously and even had benefits in case something happened. Accommodation was also included in the benefits, so they really had nothing to worry about.

Money flowed like water in their finances, and they invested a large portion of the profit into other businesses.

Freesia could remember when they were just starting. She was overwhelmed by the work, and it felt embarrassing because Cale was the one who helped her learn how to manage everything.

Cale had been a good teacher, and she considered him a genius. He could learn and adapt at a terrifying rate if he didn't know something. His brain could analyze data in just a glance, calculate anything mentally in the shortest time, and plan anything even under pressure.

He bulldozed any obstruction that came his way.

Thus, all the staff and members of Soo'Ari were in awe of "Crescent," the persona Cale used when he was in the main base. Only a few really knew his real name and what he looked like.

To the farmers in the vineyard, Freesia was just one of the people under Cale who maintained the villa.

As she stepped out of the narrow stone corridor hidden beneath the eastern end of the villa's wine cellar, the cool underground air followed her like a whisper.

The illusion of Villa Red Jewel was flawless. A perfect façade carefully crafted even before the organization was founded.

To the nobles, it was merely one of Young Master Cale's indulgent summer estates - a picturesque villa surrounded by rows of grapes and guarded by wine crafters and estate staff who kept to themselves. Tourists didn't visit Mount Aegis, and no one questioned its quiet luxury.

But Freesia knew better.
This villa was a lie, and beneath it thrived the truth.

She entered a secret passage that had a concealed mechanism using both mechanical and magical systems. It was covered by a stack of barrels as part of the backdoor. She walked inside until she reached a thick, metal-plated door.

She pressed her palm against the small panel, and a brief pulse of light ran across the surface before unlocking with a muted click. A mechanism that was made by the Flame Dwarf Tribe.

Beyond this door was Soo'Ari's true face.

Clean, quiet, clinical.

The headquarters wasn't a military facility nor a palace. It felt more like a nerve center - walls lined with enchanted memory boards, stacked records sealed in fire-proof cabinets, and halls patrolled not by guards in armor but by silence and discipline.

A handful of staff moved through the corridors, dressed in subdued, non-descript clothes. Nothing flashy. No uniforms. Every movement was deliberate. They didn't speak unless necessary, and even then, the volume was low, not because they were suppressed but because it was part of their training - to be able to communicate using gestures, looks, and subtle hints.

They could still talk or use the villa itself to hang out, but it was a normal occurrence inside the headquarters. And it was a system that worked very well.

Freesia passed by the logistics division - two people working in tandem to cross-reference incoming reports from the other territory's operations and the eastern and western trade routes. They murmured updates to one another without breaking pace. She didn't stop them. She didn't need to.

Everything ran like clockwork.

She continued on, turning past a polished steel wall embedded with a discreet rune - a one-way scrying screen. Behind it was the Analysis Room. Inside, three operatives were quietly categorizing artifacts confiscated from recent black market raids. Each item was cataloged, assessed, then either sealed or rerouted for repurposing into other Soo'Ari functions.

The Healer's Wing was quiet but well-stocked. Two private rooms. Three field medics. Rotational assignments. No one here talked about "missions" openly. They used coded phrasing. "Harvest time" meant surveillance in various territories. "Bottling" meant extracting information from hostile agents.

She paused at the corner where the internal mail system connected, another craft of the Flame Dwarfs. Slim wooden tubes marked with colored wax sealed hand-written reports that would be distributed by runners on rotation. Some were meant for Villa Red Jewel's fake steward. Some went into a locked box destined for estate businesses across three territories.

There was no direct line back to Cale.

That was the point.

Each business - be it tavern, trade shop, auction house, or vineyard - had its own autonomous structure. Their documents were written in different handwritings. Ledgers bore different stamps. Even the parchment came from various regions. Freesia ensured none of it could be traced. That was her job.

She opened the door to her private office.

The room was plain. A desk, two chairs, a shelf. In the corner, a rune-sealed safe.

She sat down, pulled out a slim notebook, and began recording the day's summaries.

No breaches reported in other areas.

The shopfront in the South passed its quarterly audit.

An encoded message from Hilsman confirmed the arrival of new contacts in the West.

Surveillance on other nobles' backers continued, especially Venion Stan.

The candle flickered slightly. Freesia leaned back.

Soo'Ari wasn't famous. No songs. No whispers on the street. Not even rumors.

But that was exactly the point.

You didn't see them.
You didn't know they were there.
But when a corrupt merchant vanished, when illegal transport lines crumbled overnight, when black-market smugglers turned up half-mad from their interrogation and swore they had "been inside a wall that moved," that was Soo'Ari.

Efficient. Silent. Rooted deep.

Freesia closed her book, locked it, and returned it to the safe.

She would walk the perimeter again before noon. Inspect the northern watch tunnel. Confirm the shifts for the outer post agents.

The skin of the organization was seamless.
Its bones were strong.

And like all good predators, Soo'Ari had no need to announce itself. Just like how the Arm lurked in the shadows, they were doing the same thing.

What was more fascinating about their organization was the fact that they slowly infiltrated each noble household. From new recruits to maids and staff, they sought jobs in these noble households through various recommendations and by any means - enough to give them a higher chance of getting in but not high enough to attract unwanted attention.

These people were trained to look as normal and ordinary as possible but had the means to protect themselves in case they entered a bad household.

Of course, it wasn't limited to manpower. Accessories, jewelry, makeup, and even shelving products had tiny cameras that could be accessed anytime and constantly recorded everything. The feeds were sent to the giant "computer" in the headquarters.

Cale introduced a lot of ideas to the Flame Dwarfs, and they thrived on crafting a lot of advanced "technology," as Cale called it. Even factories that produced large amounts of equipment were introduced to the Flame Dwarfs, which was why they could mass-produce some of the unique products introduced in the market.

They also had access to the "eyes" of the king with the full help of Alberu, of course. So even if Zed had this really advanced surveillance, what was the point if Soo'Ari had access too? What was infuriating was that they only invested time and effort to gain access, while the king had to fund its creation.

In just a year, they had eyes on every corner of the Roan Kingdom and were pushing into nearby kingdoms.

They also selected a few nobles to partner with, especially the righteous ones from different kingdoms.

This was why, even if nobody talked about Soo'Ari, its influence was slowly seeping in without anyone knowing how it happened.

"Miss Freesia, good morning," Billos said. One of Cale's recruits in Soo'Ari, he is now the head of the Business Sector of the group. He gave up his position as the head of the merchant guild because Soo'Ari seemed to be more profitable for him and gave him more power.

He is greedy toward his goal and concluded that following Cale would make his dream come true. And he is right. Business is booming, money is flowing, he has significant power, and he has someone at his back.

Working in Soo'Ari made him question his creativity and how vast the world could be if Soo'Ari's advanced technology was introduced to it.

The young master, who is as young as eight, almost nine years old, is a monstrous genius. The way he manipulates market trends and comes up with marketing strategies is something Billos had never even considered but that terrifyingly works well in their field.

Billos wanted to learn these too, and to make more money in the future.

Freesia gestured for Billos to take a seat across from her as she closed the last ledger on her desk. Billos set down a folder filled with proposals, his expression already serious.

"I've reviewed the Empire's current economic state," he began, adjusting his coat.

"Their core markets are consolidated. A few families hold most of the trade routes and monopolize distribution. If we rush in too aggressively, we'll spark a backlash. They'll see us as a threat." Freesia tapped her pen thoughtfully.

"Crescent-nim was clear. He wants a subtle entrance. One that doesn't disturb the surface too much... but still lets us dig roots deep enough to hold." Billos nodded.

"Exactly. We can't look like competitors. We need to look like something they don't bother to notice. Or better, something they want to support." Freesia opened a drawer and retrieved a thin folder stamped with the seal of Soo'Ari's Research Division.

She slid it toward Billos. Inside were reports on the Empire's lesser-known border cities-those not heavily influenced by the major noble houses. Trade towns. Merchant hubs. Places with just enough autonomy to allow experimentation, but still tightly monitored from the center.

"Start with these," Freesia said.

"They're the soft points in the Empire's skin. Not vital enough to warrant defensive attention, but stable enough for quiet expansion." Billos scanned the contents which he immediately grasped the core component.

"I see. This one here-Bellucia-has had two failed merchant ventures in the last five years. High foot traffic, good port, but unstable leadership." Billos smiles at the document he is reading.

"It's perfect," Freesia agreed.

"We establish a front as a logistics support company. Offer to fill the vacuum left behind by those collapsed ventures. We'll even use different names and different faces. Just enough funding to seem small-scale, but competent. Locals will appreciate that. They're tired of outsiders who come in with fanfare and fail within a season." Billos just tapped a note and paused a bit.

"Do we send operatives or new recruits?" It was a sensitive infiltration after all.

"Mixed," Freesia answered.

"Three veteran handlers and five fresh recruits. Let the new ones blend in as ordinary labor. They'll get experience, and it won't raise suspicions if they don't act too polished. Veterans will manage the movement of goods and gather intel." She paused before continuing.

"Crescent-nim said something interesting last time. He doesn't want us to 'compete' with the Empire's merchants. He wants us to 'complete' the market." Billos blinked, then gave a short laugh. The young master is truly a ruthless person.

It seems like the Empire is a potential enemy. And Cale Henituse would probably destroy them inside.

"Complete the market? That's absurdly clever." Billos can't help but to be excited. The thrill of being able to manuever these moves would be satisfying.

"He wants us to create needs that only we can meet. Not force ourselves in, but become indispensable to the gaps they didn't realize existed." Freesia is equally excited about these plans.

"Create dependencies," Billos murmured, catching on.

"Not through dominance... but through necessity." Freesia's smile was thin but approving.

"That's the core of the strategy. And once we're there, we start introducing the new tech. Not all at once. Piece by piece."

"Like the new storage containers that preserve goods longer. Transportation crates that reduce spillage. Low-energy magic lights for dock workers. Small, helpful tools the locals start asking for. This is the oldest technology we had at the moment right?" Billos as and Freesia nodded.

"Those tools will come with minor enchantments tied to Soo'Ari's internal system. It will allow us to collect local trade data without drawing attention." It only means Cale would also have an eye to the empire's internal system.

Billos leaned back in his chair, grinning.

"By the time the nobles notice the shift in their trade charts, we'll already be everywhere. In the ports. In the warehouses. In their own counting books." Billos chuckle at the thought.

"But we'll still be invisible," Freesia reminded him.

"Small-scale. Regional. Fragmented. Like five or six companies that don't seem to be related, but are all under our umbrella." Billos reached into his bag and pulled out a scroll. He unfurled a sketched-out business model.

"I've already drafted the fronts. A textile distribution firm. A spice and herb collective. A parcel delivery service. They won't compete with existing guilds. Instead, they'll service the smaller tradespeople-markets that the major guilds tend to ignore."

Freesia glanced at the models. "Good. Make sure the names sound native to the Empire. And change the management styles just enough to seem unrelated." He nodded.

"We'll also need a back-end communication system. Something separate from our core." Freesia reached for another folder.

"Already under development. The Flame Dwarves created modified Whisper Stones that only respond to preset frequency markers. Short-range only. Limited to 30 minutes of use before needing to reset. But they're untraceable." Billos chuckled again.

"They really outdo themselves every time."

"Crescent-nim invested in their curiosity In return, they give us miracles." A genuine smile appear in Freesia's lips.

Cale simply unlock the passion of these tribe and they becomes a loyal subordinates of him. The joy of proving that they don't need to be able to make magic tools. And their mechanical tools are also superior to magic tools was proven by Cale's idea and their craft. They achieve their dream and would forever be grateful to Cale.

The air between them settled into a thoughtful silence.

Then Freesia asked, "What about the Empire's spies?"

Billos raised an eyebrow. "You think they'll notice?"

"Honestly? No," she replied, "but it's always best to assume they will. The Central Intelligence Unit of the Empire is not as idiotic as their nobles. They may not act right away, but they will investigate."

"Then we plant counter-narratives. Use our information network to float rumors about a new merchant league forming in the North. Something threatening to the Empire, but ultimately fake. Keep them looking the other way." Billos just sigh

"I'll send word to our operatives in the Northern regions. Let them plant the seeds." Freesia just nodded

"We'll need a full three-month buffer before any of our supplies cross the border." Billos stood, tucking the documents under his arm.

"Use the Eastern sea route then," Freesia instructed.

"Disguise the crates with the merchant guild's emblem. We've already secured their cooperation." Billos suddenly paused at the door.

"If this works-"

"It will work," Freesia interrupted, her voice calm but absolute.

Billos smiled again. "Then we'll own the Empire's heartbeat without them even noticing we touched their skin."

He exited the office.

Freesia stood, returning to her desk, and carefully lit the small candle at the far corner. Its flame burned blue-an indication that Cale's side had just received the encrypted report she sent earlier.

A small pulse shimmered through the surface of the wall, and she knew the system was still active.

Freesia just smiles as she is satisfied with their meeting.

Chapter Text

Every Thursday afternoon, the tea room in the Henituse estate was filled with the gentle sound of cups clinking, the quiet hum of warm conversation, and the occasional silence that spoke louder than words.

Violan sat at the head of the small round table, her posture elegant, eyes soft as she listened to her stepson talk. Cale sat to her right, his hand gently stirring the tea she prepared. Basen, always eager, filled the third chair. Sometimes, he brought papers he wanted to share. Sometimes, he just wanted to sit close and bask in the calm atmosphere.

It started simply. A quiet tea time with Basen. Then Cale joined, almost by accident, on a day he returned home too late to avoid it. He had planned to make an excuse, but Violan merely gestured for him to sit.

One time turned into two, then three, until it became a habit. An expectation. A fixed part of their week.

Violan never pushed, but she watched. Carefully. Observing the subtle layers of the young boy who didn't act his age. He didn't brag or seek praise. But one afternoon, while dropping off something he forgot in the study, she saw the painting tucked behind a bookshelf. It was a landscape-rich, textured, vibrant. Not something a child would make. It carried weight. Soul.

Then she noticed the shelves of novels. Some technical, some historical, but also fiction. Tales of knights, scholars, war, and peace. Well-worn, well-read. And beside them, neatly arranged notebooks filled with handwritten summaries, opinions, and analysis. Some written in elegant script. Others written hastily, as if he couldn't stop his thoughts from spilling onto the paper.

Then there were the occasional dishes. A strange pastry that looked burnt but melted on her tongue. A soup that smelled odd but made her stomach warm for hours. A bright blue cake that she hesitated to try but left her licking the fork clean.

Cale always delivered them casually. "Beacrox and I made this." Then he would walk away without explanation.

At first, Violan was skeptical. But the taste never lied. After the fifth dish, she stopped questioning and simply enjoyed it. When she asked Beacrox if he helped with the cooking, the man simply nodded once and went back to sharpening his knife.

Her eyes lingered on Cale more often. She saw the signs. He forgot to eat. He worked past midnight. His shoulders never relaxed. When praised, he brushed it off. When thanked, he acted as if it meant nothing. He didn't think he mattered. And that pained her more than she expected.

So, she told him. Bluntly.

"You matter."

"I care."

"You're doing more than anyone expected, and I'm proud of you."

Cale always looked confused when she said that. Sometimes he would quietly nod. Sometimes he would simply change the topic. But she saw the way his ears turned slightly pink. The way he always returned the next Thursday, no matter how busy he was.

Ron watched from the side with amusement. Deruth may be Cale's biological father, but it was Violan who truly built a bridge between them.

Basen adored the tea times. It was during these meetings that he first shared his growing fascination with territory management. Cale, of course, nurtured it without much fanfare.

He showed Basen documents, explained their significance, and asked questions that made the boy think. Basen always listened closely when Cale spoke. He admired his brother more than anyone.

"Each document has weight," Cale once told him, pointing to a contract. "Some may only seem like ink on paper, but every signature could shift how people live. Always imagine the real people behind every law, every project. That's how you protect them."

Basen nodded, determined to remember every word.

To make it more engaging, Cale introduced a game.

"Let's play a scenario," he would say, his tone casual but eyes sharp. "You are the Lord. A flood destroyed the farms in the southern village. There's only enough funds for one immediate solution. You can either fix the farmland quickly or build temporary homes for the displaced. What will you do?"

Basen would think, then respond. Cale would smile faintly and guide him through the implications of each choice. Then move to the next one.

These scenarios became Basen's favorite part of the week. It felt like a game. But it trained his mind, sharpened his judgment. And best of all, it meant he got to spend more time with Cale.

Cale never said anything when Deruth continued to avoid him. He acted like it didn't matter. But Violan saw it. She saw the small shifts in his expression whenever the Count walked past him in the hallway. The way his steps slowed for a second. The way his gaze dropped.

Violan never forced a reunion. She simply filled the space Deruth left behind. With warm tea. With quiet support. With words Cale didn't know he needed.

And with each passing week, she watched the boy who had once stood at the edge of her family... quietly, steadily... become the heart of it.

After finishing the painting of his and Alberu's mother taking tea, Cale decided to put it in his mother's study room. The room he rarely went into after his mother died. But he wanted to at least put that painting there.

After hanging the painting and feeling satisfied with his work, he suddenly heard those strange voices again.

"The bookshelf... I can feel that familiar aura," Cale frowned again.

"Al? Did you hear anything?" Cale wanted to confirm if he was right, so he asked Alberu through the mind link.

"Hear what? I only hear you," Alberu also seemed to be confused.

"Wait, Al, I think... I think the ancient powers are talking to me?" Aside from Alberu, the only possible beings who could connect to his mind were dragons. Which apparently would not happen because he had no plan to face a dragon.

But Cale remembered the voices of the Ancient Powers, which were the same as the one who was talking to him. It was the Super Rock who had been talking, even the first time he heard voices in his mind.

"Are you... the Super Rock?" Cale tried to test his theory.

"You can hear me?" Cale widened his eyes. It was really him.

"I hear it now. Who are you?" Alberu's voice seemed cold at the moment.

"I am indeed the Super Rock..." the voice said.

"Ancient Powers can talk?" Cale's heart beat so fast. Did that mean he could communicate with his mother? He had not taken the annual rings but secured them in a safe place, as he knew he needed to balance himself if he did not want to die.

Plus, he also needed a backup plan for the water attribute because the Dominating Water was consumable. While he was balanced at the moment, what would happen if he needed this water and he consumed it all?

His plate was not strong enough to handle the strain.

"I am sure this is uncommon, Cale. I have had my ancient power since my mother died and have not heard anything from it," Alberu replied.

"This must be an anomaly. Anyway, what do you mean by familiar aura?" Cale looked at the bookshelf and tried to see if there was anything unusual about it.

He went in front of it and tried to see if there was a mechanism or something inside.

"There is a familiar aura inside. I do not know what it is."

"Check it, Cale, but be careful."

Cale tried to find anything, and after inspecting the bookshelf, he really found a mechanism.

It suddenly opened up a storage area in which there was a big box inside.

"Did you find anything?" Alberu seemed anxious from his tone. Cale took out the communication device to call Alberu.

After accepting the call, Cale let Alberu see the box.

"I saw that mechanism in the shelf," Cale said as he took it out and put it on the table. Opening the box, he saw a lot of things.

A small rectangular red box that had intricate patterns of gold, a piece of clothing, and a notebook.

He took the diary first and opened it.

Cale almost crumpled the paper. He was right all along.

His mother had been indirectly killed because of an outside force. And the accident was not an accident at all.

And right now, he found out.

He found out that the Hunters killed his friend's mother. Not only did the Hunters help White Star to destroy this world, but they were also one of the reasons why both he and Alberu were motherless.

"Al... My mother said... your mom... your mom was killed by Hunters and your father is trying to hunt them down." Alberu almost destroyed his pen, and his face paled like a sheet of paper.

Cale immediately put the box in his magic pouch, then took out a teleportation scroll. He tore it after setting Alberu's office coordinates.

As soon as he entered, he immediately saw Alberu

Alberu was gripping the edge of his desk tightly, his knuckles white and his breathing shallow. Cale watched as Alberu's carefully built composure cracked—just for a second—before the crown prince clenched his jaw and lowered his head.

"I thought… I thought it was political," Alberu muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I thought she got caught up in the power struggles of the nobility. But hunters?" Cale sat beside him in silence, letting Alberu process the truth.

"I knew Father was hiding something," Alberu continued, bitterness creeping into his tone.

"He never spoke about her death. He never let me see the records. I thought he was just… grieving in his own way." Cale took the diary out again, fingers tightening slightly on the edges of the paper.

"She mentioned Zed was going to hunt them down. That his hands were tied back then." Alberu laughed softly. It was hollow.

"Tied? The king’s hands were tied? That’s a good excuse, isn’t it?" Alberu laugh but those laugh was hollow. It felt more sarcastic too.

Cale didn’t respond. He simply placed the diary gently onto Alberu’s lap.

Alberu’s hands shook as he picked it up. He didn’t open it yet.

"You said there was a whistle and clothes?" he asked after a pause and Cale just nodded. Yeah.

"She said I need them to receive the inheritance of the Thames. But she also said her brother is still alive. Hiding. Somewhere.”

"Do you think she meant to pass on more than just the ancient powers?" Alberu’s tone had steadied, but it was still cold. Controlled. Angry.

!Yes," Cale answered without hesitation.

"And I think she intended for me to find all of this only when I was ready. When I had strength. Allies. When I could face it all." Alberu leaned back on the couch, closing his eyes.

"We’ve been living under illusions, haven’t we?" A bitter feeling came to Alberu. They hadn't know these Hunter was so deep and more mysterious than they thought.

And they are the one behind White Star.

"Not illusions," Cale corrected gently.

"Just... the parts of the truth we were allowed to see." Silence stretched between them for a moment.

"I’ll talk to Father," Alberu said finally.

"I’ll make him tell me everything." Alberu clench his fist.

Cale didn’t argue. He knew better than to stop Alberu when he was like this. Focused. Determined. Dangerous.

"I want to go with you when you try to find the inheritance," Alberu said quietly, still staring at the ceiling.

Cale blinked. "Why?"

"Because I don’t want you to go alone." He turned his head, gaze steady now.

"And because the hunters… they took something from me too." The dark glint of something dangerous appears on his eyes

Cale looked down at his hands, the faint calluses on his palms. It all came from the time he trained with Ron and Choi Han.

"Then we’ll hunt them. Together." The two sat in silence after that, the weight of truth pressing heavy on their shoulders. But underneath it was a shared resolve.

They would not let the past bury their mothers in silence. Not anymore.

Chapter Text

Cale just stayed with Alberu. He sat beside him while Alberu continued his work, though slower than usual.

"I think you need to take a break. I'll call Aunt Tasha to take care of this," Cale firmly said.

"But—"

"No buts. Let's go to your room." Cale called Tasha first before pulling Alberu into his bed. Cale wrapped his arm around Alberu's head as Alberu leaned toward him.

"Everything made sense. For a bit, I think?" Cale suddenly blurted.

"Hmm?" Alberu felt more comfortable in Cale's arm, and he started to relax. Despite Cale's small body, it gave him a sense of security and comfort.

"His Majesty's maneuver. He spoiled the third prince and gave him everything to appease the Third Queen. But this spoiling would surely be detrimental to him in the long run. Because he was given everything from the start, he would grow up useless and wouldn't fit as a monarch. He let the second prince pursue what he wanted to divert him from taking the throne. And he put you in the harshest conditions to train you how to work hard and to have the capacity of becoming a king. While this is cruel as he is your father, as a king, it was a brilliant arrangement. He got everything to go according to his plan. And maybe it would also create an illusion that you would not be a good bargaining chip if the worst things happened," Cale softly explained.

Alberu thought about it and nodded with a bitter smile.

"He is really a great king," he murmured.

"But he sucks at parenting like my father." That made Alberu laugh.

"I think you need to go back. Ron might flip the Henituse Castle if he doesn't see you." Alberu smiled as he kissed Cale's forehead.

"What about you?" Cale looked worried, but Alberu just took Cale's hand and kissed it.

"I'll be fine, my dear headache. I just need a bit of time to think." Alberu's voice was soft, almost a whisper. Cale knew he couldn't change his mind, so he nodded and tore another Teleportation Scroll.

He was greeted by Ron, who had a benign smile while holding a kettle of lemon tea.

"May this Ron know where Young Master went?" Cale almost jumped in scare, seeing the vicious look of his butler. Cale smiled awkwardly before looking away.

"Young Master just said you'll just hang the painting. But this Ron didn't see the Young Master after looking for you here." Ron immediately poured a cup of lemon tea and offered it to Cale.

Cale winced but accepted the drink.

"Uhm... I found a new clue about the Hunters... and uhm... they... they killed Al's mother and indirectly killed my mother in the process," Cale murmured, fidgeting with his thumbs.

Suddenly the smile on Ron's face vanished as he put the kettle on the nearby table.

"Do you want a hug, Young Master?" Ron made a hug squat, then opened his arms a bit to offer it.

Cale seemed to hesitate but hugged Ron back, resting his head on Ron's shoulder. Cale tightly hugged him for comfort while Ron rubbed his back gently.

Cale stayed like that, seeming to find Ron's shoulder more comfortable than he expected. He did not realize he had fallen asleep.

"The Young Master was probably overwhelmed with emotion. He might be older inside, but his body is still young to handle those emotions," Ron thought.

He picked him up and carried him so he could tuck him in his bed.

While walking, Ron met Violan and saw Red sleeping in his arms.

"Did something happen?" Ron looked at the countess and saw that she looked worried. Ron smiled. While he appreciated the countess, there were things that Cale should be the one to tell her. So he did not tell the truth.

"Found the Young Master sleeping in his study, so I carried him to tuck him in his bed." Violan seemed relieved as she smiled.

"I was about to invite him to tea, but I guess he's a bit tired. Just tell him I came by." Ron nodded and bowed slightly before going to Cale's room.

He sighed.

Not in exasperation—but in quiet acceptance of the ache he couldn’t name.

Cale was right. He had always known, in some buried part of himself, that his father’s treatment of the royal children had been strategic. Calculated. Cruel, yes, but purposeful. He had just never heard someone voice it with such clarity, especially someone who understood the weight of such decisions from the outside.

“…Brilliant arrangement,” Alberu murmured again, echoing Cale’s words. He let the bitter taste sit in his mouth for a moment.

A good king. A terrible father.
He chuckled, but it came out more like a tired breath. "Aren’t those supposed to be opposites?"

He let his body fall back against the bed, arm covering his eyes. For a second, he let himself just feel—feel the injustice, the bitterness, the exhaustion of carrying a throne’s worth of expectations with no one to lean on until recently.

“You're mother...” Cale had said it so gently, but it had struck Alberu like a blade through the fog. He had never dared hope for a solid lead about what truly happened to her. The court had always been silent—his father even more so. Now, with one careless whisper, the Hunters had made the list of unforgivable enemies.

He lowered his arm, eyes narrowed as he stared at the ceiling.

“The Hunters,” he said aloud, as if saying it would solidify it in the air.

He didn't know who the Hunters were. Or what kind of organization they were. All he knew was they were the group behind the arm.

The mastermind of all the things that happened in their first life. Not a single piece of information was told or found, even during the process of extracting information in different locations using the Soo'Ari.

That was why they were terrifying. Because it was always the unknown you feared.

He could already feel his priorities shifting. What had started as a need to solidify his influence and protect his people was now something far more personal. They had taken his mother. They had taken Cale’s mother. They had embedded themselves into every corner of power like a disease, manipulating events from the shadows.

And they had underestimated him.

“No more.” Alberu sat up slowly, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His hands were clasped tightly together.

His thoughts drifted to Cale—his weary eyes, the firm tone he used when he dragged Alberu to bed, the way he held him without expecting anything in return. The quiet comfort. The sense of calm.

“…My little headache,” he whispered, a small smile curving his lips despite the storm in his mind. “You really are troublesome.”

But it was that same troublesome person who grounded him, who reminded him that he was more than a prince, more than a puppet molded by a kingdom's will.

He stood and walked toward the window. The moonlight had dimmed slightly, cloaking the capital in shades of gray. Somewhere far off, he imagined Cale already asleep, Ron no doubt fussing over him like a mother hen.

Alberu touched the windowsill and let the chill seep into his fingertips.

“If the Hunters want to break us,” he said softly to the night, “then they should’ve never left us standing.”

A glint returned to his eyes. A quiet, burning resolve.

For his mother.

For Cale.

And for everyone else the Hunters thought they could erase.

Chapter Text

A few weeks later, Alberu finally gathered enough strength to confront Zed.

The night was quiet. The palace halls were dimly lit by flickering sconces, and the air carried the faint chill of early spring. Alberu walked through the corridors with steady steps, but his heart was pounding in his chest. Each step felt heavier the closer he got to the King's private study.

When he finally stood before the grand doors, he paused for a long moment. His fist hovered, trembling slightly, before he knocked.

"Enter," came Zed's deep voice from the other side.

Alberu pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Zed was at his desk, reading documents under a warm lamp. He didn’t look up right away. "I assume this isn’t about state affairs at this hour," he said evenly.

"It’s not," Alberu replied quietly. His voice didn’t carry its usual strength. It was raw.

His eyes were complicated because this was the first time he saw his father again face to face. The ceremony of picking him up as the crown prince was not part of the counting, as he didn't need to directly talk to him.

But now? He needed to face his father because he wanted the truth. And he wanted to know what kind of enemy they were facing.

The fact that his father had information about the hunters baffled him.

Zed finally looked up. His eyes briefly widened before settling into a calculating calm.

"Then speak." Alberu stepped forward, until only the desk stood between them.

He pulled up all his strength and exhaled before asking, "How did she die?"

Alberu trembled in raw anger. His fists were clenching, veins were popping as his eyes turned blood red. His body was too tense and he felt that he was in a state of hyper-focus.

Zed froze. His fingers stopped moving. His expression didn’t shift, but Alberu saw it. The way his father’s shoulders tensed. The subtle tremble in his jaw. He could see the tiny detail and the sudden shift of atmosphere around.

But neither of them backed down.

Zed's aura was not even comparable to White Star's ancient power. So he could compose himself. He looked at his father's eyes without any fear his 13-year-old self always felt.

The intimidation his father gave to his young self was intense. To the point that sometimes, he felt his father hated him for some reason.

"You told me it was illness. That she was weak. That her body couldn’t hold on." Alberu’s voice cracked, and he had to clench his fists to steady himself. "But you lied."

Zed’s silence was answer enough.

"I deserve the truth," Alberu said, more forcefully this time. His voice rising with every word. "She was my mother."

Zed finally stood, slowly. "It was to protect you."

"From what?" Alberu demanded. His eyes were shining now. Not with anger, but pain.

"From knowing the woman who held me, who told me stories when I couldn’t sleep, who kissed my forehead every morning... was murdered?" The word echoed in the room, sharp and heavy.

Alberu could not distinguish the emotion in Zed's eyes. But he could see madness and lunacy.

It made him realize that his mother's death probably affected his father more than he initially thought.

Zed looked away.

"Don't snoop your nose into a business you can't handle. Go back to your room," a firm voice just echoed in the room.

Alberu smiled, a smile that also showed lunacy like his father. He survived both war and apocalypse but he knew, he wasn't totally sane anymore.

Alberu chuckled as he went closer to his father.

"What? I would be killed by them? Tortured? Made into a sacrifice to a false God?" Alberu laughed like he went crazy. Which surprised Zed and almost made him look at Alberu with a frown.

"Father... I dealt with worse than that," a simple word that made Zed realize something.

"Are you... a variable now?" A flicker of surprise in Alberu's eyes was shown a bit but quickly replaced with the perfect prince persona he developed since before.

It was too fast that Zed thought he was hallucinating.

"Father is wise," the smile of Alberu hid more craziness than Zed thought.

He sighed while looking at him with hesitation.

"How... how old are you?" Zed murmured.

Alberu thought that Zed knew something about the Variables. Something that Cale explained to him when he first got the diary under a sound barrier. Cale probably shared that information with him because he was also now a variable.

He was both a regressor, reincarnator, and transmigrator.

They regressed from when he was 13 and Cale was 8, he reincarnated as Seo Soo Jin in Korea, and he transmigrated to his younger body. He was not really sure if they were really transmigrators or how it worked, but he knew they were variables.

"Probably close to 90..." Zed sighed as if he resigned to his predicament.

"She was targeted. By a group older than you can imagine. The same group behind the fall of a lot of dimensions and worlds. The same group that our family and the Thames once were part of. I made enemies when I turned away from their offers after knowing I was part of the Ancient White Star's bloodline. And she... she paid the price." Guilt flashed in his eyes as Zed smiled bitterly.

"They wanted me to become their second seed because I had a close attribute to our ancestor," he murmured.

"Ancient White Star?" Alberu's mind got complicated.

Did that mean they were facing their ancestor? How was he alive then?

"He is the person who turned this land into a mess. Someone who wanted to become nature itself. A cursed presence that plunged this world into chaos in the ancient time. I do not know much about the information," Zed explained.

"Why... did you let me grow up thinking she was just... weak?" Alberu whispered. "All these years. And you let me carry that shame. That anger. You let me think it was fate. When it was murder."

Zed’s voice was low. "If you had known back then, what would you have done? You were a child, Alberu."

"I would’ve remembered her with honor!" Alberu shouted. "Not as someone who died quietly, but as someone who was stolen from me."

Zed closed his eyes, his expression unreadable. "I am sorry. For what it’s worth."

"It’s not enough," Alberu muttered. His chest rose and fell rapidly. "But thank you... for finally telling me."

Alberu turned and left before his voice could break further.

"I wanted to know more about the hunters." A firm voice resounded around the room.

"Alberu, it's not something yo—"

"These world face destruction because of those hunters. Thirty years from now, this land would be covered by despair and chaos. So you better tell me everything you know so I would at least be prepared," Alberu growled to Zed as he looked directly at Zed, which caught Zed off guard.

Because of that, Zed told Alberu everything he knew.

"Red Blood and White Blood, huh," Cale sighed upon hearing everything Alberu said. He just nodded in affirmation.

"Crazy... really crazy," Cale murmured.

"I fought with that White Star. I never thought there's more story beyond what we know," a gentle voice of an old man said in both of their minds.

"We fought with that Darkness, but we all died in the process," a woman's voice added.

"You're the priestess?" Cale asked.

"Yes, Cale! Please eat more. The food is so delicious!" Alberu laughed awkwardly on the other side.

He seemed tired from the confrontation he had with his father, but at least now they had a few pieces of information about the Hunters.

They had been around since ancient times, so they were probably a bigger organization.

"Choi Han... he seems to be a single lifer." Alberu sigh again.

"So much problem to solve," Alberu just murmured.

"We will help with whatever we can."

"We can just burn them with my fire, kwahahaha!"

"Just don't get hurt. Sob. Sob."

Cale felt the headache coming.

Chapter Text

Violan is someone who wants to be hands-on with Lily. But as a first-time mother of a girl, she does not know what to do. The wet nurse is with her to guide her, but the most unexpected help she received came from both Ron and Cale.

Cale seems to know a lot about the technicalities of raising a baby, like changing diapers, making baby formula, making the baby laugh, or getting her to stop crying. Sometimes, Violan would see Cale and Basen hovering around to play with Lily.

Lily seems to adore Cale in particular. And for some reason, Cale would go out and return with a lot of baby essentials.

Ron mostly helps by picking up baby clothes, preparing the materials for anything Cale wants to do, and of course, being a guide to both her and Violan. Deruth seems to be as clueless as she is.

She did not struggle this much when she took care of Basen. He was more quiet and reserved, preferring to sleep and only crying when he needed something.

But Lily is a challenge.

She cries a lot, throws tantrums often, is picky about who can carry her, and needs constant care that overwhelms Violan.

She is hyperactive and wants to be out of her crib all the time, which leaves Violan with no time to focus on her work. That is why she is grateful for Cale, Ron, and Basen’s support. Deruth only sees Lily in the evenings because he is always too tired from the amount of work he has to deal with.

Their territory, after all, is booming. It is now considered the safest territory in the Roan Kingdom.

The underground of Rain City vanished when Cale took over the territory, and so did the slum. There is always work available, regardless of one’s education.

It is known to Violan that Cale created a unique system within the territory that feels like it is from another world.

Rain City is a territory that welcomes people without asking questions. Cale purged the underground across the entire territory, but he did so without shedding a single drop of blood.

He held secret meetings with these people, gave them legitimate identities, and allowed them to stay in the territory. He employed them through Soo'Ari as part of the "Body," offering generous salaries based on their skills. He never questioned their pasts, though most of them confessed their crimes in order to start a new life.

The system continues through specially trained knights who can identify fake documents. They are trained to check the texture, the stamps, the paper, and even the Bidle, a new language Cale introduced for the blind. Machines hidden inside the Knight Stand posts at the gates help verify documents. All of this was developed by the Henituse family with the help of the Flame Dwarf Tribe.

Of course, the knights still allow those with fake identities to enter, but they are marked for "Look Out." Knights place a mark on individuals with questionable backgrounds, but they do not take action unless those individuals present a threat. Their history, however dark, is never questioned.

After staying for a certain period, those who are willing to confess and submit an application can be certified by the Henituse County. This makes their papers official and grants them citizenship in the Henituse Territory and the Roan Kingdom.

That is, if they manage to survive.

After all, they are under surveillance. Every movement is watched, not only by the knights but also by the citizens themselves. Especially those who were part of the ex-underground. You never know if the person serving your food or chatting casually with you is a pardoned ex-criminal.

In terms of protectiveness, they are far more vicious than anyone else could ever be. These are masters of their craft who now want stable, peaceful lives and a place to settle, far from their past mistakes.

This system also feeds manpower into Soo'Ari. It spreads through word of mouth, a quiet recruitment within the shadows, whispered only when they deem someone trustworthy.

By keeping these actions out of public view, tourism in the territory increases. This also opens the door for criminals to sneak in. But only those involved in the system know what truly happens in the shadows. It is a mutual understanding built on respect.

When Deruth discovered this system, he was baffled. But seeing that it worked, he allowed it to operate independently. It was a stroke of genius and a brilliant move that posed no threat to the territory.

Violan heard of this and began to view her stepson in a different light. As a result, she made special consideration of Cale's opinion regarding the territory.

To the public, the territory is a paradise where everyone is happy. But the work behind it all makes it nearly impossible for Deruth to be present in Lily’s life. She understands, knowing that he is trying. Even when he comes home tired at night, he still takes care of Lily so Violan can rest.

The only thing that makes Violan quietly displeased with her husband is his cowardice toward Cale.

It was early morning, and the winter sunlight filtered softly through the nursery window.

Violan hadn’t even reached for her tea before Lily began wailing again.

She exhaled slowly and reached for the baby. “It’s alright, darling,” she murmured, though her voice was laced with exhaustion. “Mama’s here.”

The wet nurse beside her looked over, calm as ever. “She’s been stirring every hour,” she said gently, watching as Violan attempted to soothe Lily.

But the tiny girl was having none of it.

“I think she’s gassy,” Violan mumbled, rocking her daughter. “Or perhaps she’s just… upset. Again.”

Before either woman could try something else, the nursery door opened without a knock. Violan almost told the person off—until she saw that familiar head of red hair and a small bundle in his hands.

“Formula?” Cale said casually, stepping inside. “I warmed it. It’s not too hot.”

Violan stared at him for a beat, blinking. “You… how long were you waiting outside?”

“I was passing by,” he lied without blinking. “I heard her crying.”

Lily stopped for half a second at the sound of his voice.

Violan exchanged a glance with the wet nurse, who now looked more amused than surprised.

“She responds to your voice better than anyone,” Violan said quietly as she watched him pass the bottle test on his wrist before handing it over to her.

Cale didn’t say anything.

“She likes being held upright,” he added, moving to open the curtains just slightly more, letting in soft light. “And if you pat her lower back in intervals of three, she burps easier.”

Violan looked at him again. “How do you know all this?”

“Reading,” he said flatly, then shifted to glance at the baby, who was now suckling the bottle with far less distress.

“Reading,” Violan echoed skeptically. “You’ve always had your nose in books, but still—”

“He’s good,” the wet nurse interrupted, smiling. “Sometimes I think he should have trained to be a caretaker instead of a noble.”

That earned a faint scoff from Ron, who had just entered with a small crate of folded baby clothes. “Young master Cale would not survive the gossip if he did,” he said dryly. “But he is better than most professionals I’ve seen.”

Behind him, Basen peeked into the room.

“Is she calm now?” Basen asked, tiptoeing in.

“She is,” Violan said. “Thanks to your brother.”

Cale moved to the crib and adjusted one of Lily’s blankets with practiced ease.

Lily cooed suddenly, letting out a sound that resembled a giggle.

Basen lit up. “She laughed!”

“She’s starting to,” Cale said, not looking up. “Smiles come easier after the fourth week.”

Violan raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “I should just make you her personal nanny.”

“No thank you,” Cale replied instantly.

But his hands lingered on the edge of the crib a second longer than necessary.

Later that day, Violan found herself standing beside Ron in the hallway just outside the nursery. Lily was napping. Cale had gone out again—no doubt to return with more supplies they didn’t even realize they needed.

“How does he know what to get?” she asked, not hiding her curiosity anymore.

Ron merely smiled. “He pays attention.”

Violan gave a small sigh. “He’s supposed to be learning about territory finances or knight distribution. Instead, he’s memorizing feeding schedules and baby formulas.”

“He’s doing both,” Ron replied. “You just only see this side.”

There was a beat of silence between them.

“I didn’t know how hard it would be,” Violan admitted, arms crossed over her chest. “Lily is... spirited.”

“She is,” Ron agreed, almost fondly. “But she will be strong. Just like her mother.”

Violan smiled faintly, but it faded just as quickly.

“She adores Cale. Always turns her head when she hears him. Sometimes I think she looks for him more than me.”

Ron looked at her then. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“No,” she said honestly. “It’s not. It just surprises me.”

She paused, then added quietly, “It makes me want to see what kind of person he’ll be ten years from now.”

Ron’s answer was simple. “Someone Lily can always rely on.”

That night, as Violan prepared to sleep, she peeked into the nursery one more time.

She wasn’t surprised to see Cale there, seated beside the crib with a book in hand. He didn’t notice her, eyes focused on Lily’s face as the baby shifted softly in her sleep.

“Don’t grow up too fast,” he murmured under his breath.

Violan closed the door without a word.

She’d let him stay. Again.

And again, if Lily continued to sleep that peacefully.

Chapter Text

Cale watched as Lily—no, Lilian Henituse—grew into a cheeky two-year-old girl.

He had never seen how she grew up in his last life, but now he did.

He was there when she uttered her first word: Mama. He was there when she first crawled, when she took her first step, and now, she could utter a few phrases, laughing brightly as she wiggled in happiness.

Violan noticed early on that Lily seemed fascinated with swords, especially whenever she told stories about princesses and knights. She couldn’t help but recall what Cale once said—that Lily would wield a sword.

It didn’t bother her. If anything, she found it endearing. She wanted Lily to grow up into whoever she wanted to be.

Cale recorded every one of Lily’s “firsts.” Violan had copies of those precious moments, and Deruth often watched them during his free time with a soft smile on his face.

Basen, too, had changed. He grew more reliable by the day. From a timid little boy who used to hide behind Violan’s skirts, he became someone who could dissect the words of noble children as if it was second nature. He began his training as the heir at the age of eleven.

Deruth officially announced Basen as the heir of the Henituse family, shocking many nobles. But the people of Rain City had already expected it—especially the staff of the manor.

While Cale was technically the better candidate, everyone in the territory knew he despised paperwork. The department heads remembered clearly the times when he took over the territory’s affairs. He would grumble, sigh dramatically, and on more than one occasion, mutter about burning the entire stack of documents.

They saw his tantrums often, but they also saw how he still did the job excellently.

To them, it wasn’t surprising that he wasn't named heir. They believed it was simply the result of early and full exposure to the demands of managing a territory. It only made sense that Cale didn’t want the position.

Still, the people of Rain City were fond of their young master.

He appeared among them from time to time, always knowing their names. That simple gesture made them feel seen, made them feel valued. They respected him deeply—and were quietly protective of him.

The Henituse territory had thrived under his influence.

Several nobles attempted to investigate, hoping to dig up dirt, but they found nothing.

Henituse was the only territory without a slum or any traces of an underworld. Any attempt to stir trouble was swiftly handled with clean, precise legal action. Every movement was calculated and within the bounds of reason.

By the age of fourteen, Cale handled occasional affairs related to Soo’Ari and focused mostly on training in swordsmanship and dagger arts. Choi Han, ever loyal, remained by his side, pushing him to his limits with sincere care.

At fourteen, Cale was already a high-grade swordsman. Alberu, at the same age, had reached mid to high grade.

Cale’s only challenge was his muscle memory. Though he fully understood the fundamentals taught by Choi Han and had built a solid foundation through theory and practice, his physique wasn’t suited to rigorous, heavy training. He had a lean, muscular build—one shaped by efficiency rather than brute strength, unlike some with exaggerated, bulky frames.

That morning, the clang of blades rang crisply through the Henituse training ground.

Sweat beaded down Cale’s neck as he parried another fast strike from Choi Han. His footing skidded slightly on the worn sand, but he quickly adjusted, pushing forward with a diagonal strike. Choi Han blocked it easily, his calm expression betraying nothing of the power behind each of his measured blows.

Their sparring was intense but not brutal. It was more of a sharpening of skills, two swordsmen gauging distance, rhythm, and response. Cale had long since developed a sense for where Choi Han would push him, how far he could go, and when to push back.

He grunted as their swords locked again, steel grinding against steel.

"Focus," Choi Han said, soft yet firm.

Cale smirked, “You’re starting to sound like Ron.”

“You could do worse.”

Speaking of Ron—

“I see your reflexes haven’t dulled, young master,” Ron's amused voice came from the side of the training ground.

He just threw a dagger in the middle of the intense fight, and Cale subconsciously dodged it even if he was focused on fighting Choi Han.

Ron had been quietly observing from the shade, arms folded behind his back, expression unreadable as ever.

Cale huffed. “You’re all too invested in my muscle memory.”

The two knew Cale despised training. But he still kept pushing himself because they didn't know the power of the other parties. Both the Hunter and ARM were groups whose exact power they could not fathom. So Cale wanted to be overprepared rather than caught off guard by the other party.

Before Choi Han could respond, another presence entered the grounds. This one with the cold precision of a blade sheathed in black silk.

Freesia stepped forward, silent and swift. Her usual aura of composed calculation wrapped around her like a second skin. She bowed slightly toward Cale, who stepped back from Choi Han, lowering his wooden sword.

So everything stopped from doing anything.

Cale reached for the towel Ron offered, wiping the sweat from his face and neck as his eyes locked onto Freesia’s.

“You wouldn’t come in the middle of training unless something happened,” Cale said simply.

Freesia nodded, her voice level. “We have a development. High-priority, Crescent-nim.”

Choi Han's stance subtly shifted beside him, the easy calm of the spar giving way to quiet readiness.

Cale straightened, tossing the towel aside. “Speak.”

“We've tracked movements in the Tolz Territory.”

Cale’s eyes sharpened. He guessed it must be the time the other party moved in the shadows.

Freesia continued. “ARM delivered something—small, but heavily guarded—to a mansion near the mountain range. We initially believed it was a smuggling route, but what we saw changed that.”

“How many?” He wiped his sweat as he listened to Freesia.

“Close to a hundred armed forces, all came from Marquis Stan's illegal manpower,” she replied.

“Ten high-grade knights. The rest are mid to low-level knights. Marquis Stan seems to put importance on these deliveries.” Cale immediately knew the situation.

“Ten high-grade knights?” Choi Han echoed, brows furrowed. “That’s excessive. For a delivery?”

Freesia nodded. “That’s not all. Magic devices have been arranged around the mansion—mid to high-tier artifacts.”

Cale’s brow furrowed slightly.

"Any mages?” Ron asked with a furrowed brow.

Freesia’s lips pressed into a thin line. “No, most of them black mages.”

A chill ran through the air.

Choi Han looked confused, his head tilting slightly. “Black mages? I’m unfamiliar with that term.”

Ron’s calm voice filled the silence. “They are mages who use dead mana and black magic. These mages have a dark attribute. They also can imitate nature and use magic, which is why they are dangerous.”

Choi Han nodded as he understood.

Freesia’s eyes narrowed. “I only saw a few black mages wearing the uniform of ARM, but they are walking freely under ARM’s banner.” Freesia knew the inside information about ARM.

And she despised these people. She remembered when they cleaned up the Gyerre Territory of the illegal human trafficking. And some reports from the Eastern Continent that they made dead mana facilities. She was trying to gulp her anger because she knew they were still weak at the moment.

Still, she loved the fact they often interfered with the business of ARM. Every now and then.

Cale’s fingers twitched at his side.

“And the item they delivered?” he asked, his voice lower now, measured. He wanted to be sure.

Freesia opened a thin folder she’d tucked beneath her coat, pulling out a sketch—clearly drawn by one of her spies. It depicted a small black egg, encased in a glowing magical array.

“We couldn’t get close,” she said. “The mansion is heavily warded. But our agents caught a glimpse of the egg before they reinforced the barriers.”

Cale’s eyes locked onto the image.

A black egg.

Dark scales, faintly pulsing with energy that seemed alive—too alive.

He knew what it was.

His mind went quiet for a second as the implications sank in.

A black dragon.

ARM had acquired—or stolen—a black dragon’s egg. He didn't know how ARM got the egg and honestly, he didn't care. What he needed to do was snatch it under their noses and wreak havoc on their "hideout." Then let Alberu deal with the cleanup.

Ron stepped closer, his voice still quiet. “Your thoughts, young master?”

Cale slowly lowered the sketch. “It's a black dragon.”

Choi Han looked between the sketch and Cale. Ron looked at Cale, almost caught off guard by what he said. Freesia widened her eyes in shock.

"A... a dragon?" Freesia almost went pale with anxiety.

Cale didn’t answer immediately. Then he nodded, slow and grim. “Yes, a black dragon.”

Freesia blinked. “That egg… is a dragon?” She seemed to be unable to process what Cale said, repeating her question.

“Yes.” Cale’s voice was flat. “The worst possible kind in their hands.”

Dragons... They are existences that stand in a class above all other creatures in their world. They are the guardians, the rulers of mana, and it’s quite well known that they are rare, as there are only twenty dragons on both the Eastern and Western Continents.

They are extremely smart, prideful, and individualistic.

“They must want to tame a dragon…” Ron trailed off. Since it’s totally impossible for an adult dragon to be tamed, they would probably want to start when the egg hatches.

“That child would be tortured until its death. They will use their life force to go berserk to get their freedom, only to have their dream in the embrace of eternal rest." Cale said solemnly. He couldn't tell Choi Han it was him who killed the black dragon.

And these three people inside the training ground knew he had regressed from the future.

The training ground fell silent.

“Why deliver it to a mountain mansion?” Choi Han finally asked. “Wouldn’t a hidden laboratory or fortress make more sense?”

Cale shook his head. “Mountains give natural mana concentration. And isolation. Enough space to anchor large-scale magic formations. And probably, this is one of their 'experiments.' They might force the egg to hatch because of the mages’ presence.”

All of them looked grim.

“So, they plan to forcefully hatch it using magic..." Ron said quietly. “To artificially bind it to their cause?”

"Probably..." Cale didn't know the reason. It wasn’t written in the book The Birth of a Hero, and the rumours back then were not trustworthy.

Freesia added, “They’ve brought in torturers and twenty-three random laborers.”

Cale’s grip tightened on the folder.

ARM was getting bolder.

Too bold.

He let out a slow breath and looked up at Freesia. “Keep your agents at a distance. Do not engage. Have them rotate shifts frequently so they don’t trigger detection. Prioritize magic resonance patterns and communication routes.”

Freesia nodded. “Understood.”

"Didn’t mages worship dragons for their affinity to magic?" Choi Han asked suddenly.

"The black mages are probably more loyal to White Star than letting their adoration affect them, probably. After all, black mages were hunted down because of their dark attributes. There’s too little information about them," Ron explained.

Cale sighed and turned to Choi Han. “We’ll prepare for a rescue mission. You and I will go.”

Choi Han nodded instantly.

Ron raised an eyebrow. “And myself?”

“You’ll stay and guard the family,” Cale said firmly. “If they’re bold enough to move in Tolz, they may try something here.”

Ron gave a small bow. “As you command, young master.”

Cale’s voice dropped to a whisper. “We’re not letting them hatch that egg forcefully or let the others torture the child.”

His eyes burned with quiet fury, the calm before a storm.

Because no child—dragon or human—deserved to be born into chains.

Not again. Not on his watch. They failed in his first life, not in this life.

Chapter Text

The quiet rustle of papers filled the lord’s office.

Deruth Henituse looked up from his desk when he heard the soft knock. Before he could respond, the door opened, and Cale stepped in without preamble.

Deruth smiled gently. “Cale, is something the matter?”

Cale walked in with a composed expression, his usual lazy air missing. He stood before the desk, gaze steady.

“I’m leaving for a while.”

Deruth blinked, caught off guard. “Leaving?”

“Yes.” Cale’s tone was final, not aggressive, but firm. “It’ll take around two to three weeks.”

Deruth put down his quill, studying his son’s expression. “Where are you going?”

“I can’t say.”

A pause settled between them.

Deruth frowned slightly. “Is it dangerous?”

Cale didn’t answer directly. “I’ll return in one piece.”

That only made Deruth more uneasy. “Cale—”

“I’m not asking for permission, Father. I’m informing you.”

Cale’s voice was calm, respectful, but held no room for refusal. He met Deruth’s eyes without wavering.

Deruth sighed quietly. He recognized that look—he’d seen it a few times before. It wasn’t stubbornness; it was resolve.

“I see,” Deruth said softly, after a moment. “Then at least take enough guards with you—”

“No guards.” Cale shook his head. “But I won’t be alone.”

Deruth leaned back in his chair, gaze thoughtful.

“I can’t stop you, can I?”

“No,” Cale said. “But thank you for worrying.”

Another pause.

Finally, Deruth gave a small nod. “Come back safe. That’s all I ask.”

Cale nodded once. “I will.”

He turned and left without another word, leaving behind the weight of unspoken truths and a father’s quiet concern.

He sighs as he can't stop his son. Because he knew, he couldn't.

Cale informed Violan of his departure. She looked at him with sharp eyes before firmly stating, “Take some money from the treasury.”

Cale blinked, surprised, then smiled. “Gladly.”

He said goodbye to Lily and Basen that same day. Lily pouted, demanding he bring something back for her, while Basen nodded with a serious face, wishing him a safe return.

The next morning, Cale departed using a low-key carriage. The group heading toward Mount Aegis included Choi Han and Hans, who had recently become part of the Soo’Ari. Cale also gave instructions to Hilsman, another Soo’Ari member, to stay alert in case something happened in the territory during his absence.

After a long journey, they arrived. Freesia was already waiting for them at the entrance of Red Jewel Villa.

Cale stepped down from the carriage, now in disguise. His hair was stark white, and his eyes were a sharp blue. A black veil covered his face, hiding any trace of his identity. Both he and Choi Han wore black clothing from head to toe.

“Everyone is inside already, Crescent-nim. A small number of elite squad members were prepared for this mission,” Freesia said, leading them inside.

The meeting room was already filled. Several individuals stood in silence, their presence radiating strength. Among them were dark elves chosen by Freesia, including Shawn, one of the elite warriors of the dark elf race.

Cale stepped forward and placed a folder on the table. He stood with a serious expression, his presence commanding. Nobody commented on the fact that he was only fourteen years old. They all knew how capable he was.

“I received a report that ARM, a group that was marked in the Priority Chart, moved something into Tolz Territory. They have a shipment heading into the mountain. They are accompanied by one hundred of Stan’s illegal manpower,” Cale said, pointing to the map and documents.

Gasps and murmurs spread throughout the room as he continued.

“The shipment,” he paused, “is a dragon egg.”

Most of them gasp in shock and some even murmur about the situation.Shawn stiffened and raised his hand.

“Are we going to take the egg then, Crescent-nim?” His voice carried a hint of anxiety.

“No,” Cale answered, shaking his head. “It’s too dangerous for all of you, especially since this might be the hatching period. Our plan is simple.”

He smiled. A few in the room immediately felt a bad premonition.

“Isn’t it better to let another dragon deal with them?” His bright smile deepened.

“Then what… what’s our role?” one member asked, sounding confused.

“All you need to do is evacuate the people near the mountain quietly. If you need to bribe them, do so. What we need is to ensure no civilians are in the vicinity. We cannot let them get caught up in the operation,” Cale explained.

Most of them nodded in understanding. The situation was more serious than they had expected.

He then presented a backup plan. If the dragon refused to help, they would proceed with a rescue mission themselves. He added more contingency plans in case the worst happened, such as if someone discovered their operation.

The meeting ended with everyone clear on their roles and next steps.

The three arrive at the foot of Mount Yellia. It was the home of an Ancient Dragon that told Cale about blowing up if he had two clashing ancient powers. It's the reason why he took the Vitality of Heart as his second ancient power and is still trying to find a more permanent Water Ancient Power.

He felt nervous, but he knew what he wanted to do with the dragon was something that he would want to know more about.

Geared up in thick clothes, they all hiked near the top. Cale remembered the trail he used when he was running toward this part in his first life.

After three hours of hiking, Cale and the others reached the cave, which made Cale smile a bit.

He met Eruhaben on his deathbed. He was hiding from a group of enemies who wanted to kill him because he had some sort of information that the base of ARM was, in fact, in the Molden Kingdom.

It was crucial information, which was why he was hunted. His arm was bleeding and he was trying to just disappear when he was swallowed by the cave. Eruhaben took him in because he knew who was hunting him, and he was already on his deathbed.

Apparently, the ARM had ransacked his lair, and he found out that his friend, the green dragon, had been killed by the ARM and his corpse had been lying in his own lair for 400 years. He had just found out not long ago when he wanted to say goodbye, as he knew his long end was near.

The three of them just stood outside the cave.

"Young Master, are we not going in?" Hans asked while rubbing both of his arms in the cold. After all, Mount Yellia was known for its cold terrain.

"Just wait, it won't take long," Cale muttered.

It did not take long before the stone suddenly moved. Choi Han instinctively touched the handle of his sword. The three of them immediately felt the dominating aura that made them want to kneel down, but Cale used his own dominating aura to counter a bit of the dragon's fear, even though he was still sweating from the aura the Ancient Dragon released.

"Hm...?" A beautiful golden elf suddenly appeared in front of them. The two were awestruck by the dragon's beauty that seemed to shine so brightly.

"Interesting. Are you a dragon slayer?" A cold smile appeared on his lips, which made Cale more scared.

"N-no..." Cale stuttered, trying to gasp for air as he tried to channel the dominating aura more.

"How are you still alive?" He looked at Cale with interest.

He did not reply, as he was focused on countering the dragon's fear. When Eruhaben stopped the dragon's fear, Cale took a deep breath and tried to catch his breath.

"What do I owe you a visit, human?" Eruhaben asked with interest. Cale had probably gotten his interest because of the ancient powers inside him.

"Can we talk to you in private, Dragon-nim? It's... it's important." When Eruhaben decided that they were weak, he let them in.

The inside of the cave looked like the interior of a house, but it was all made of gold. The two looked at the shiny room around them. Everything was just gold. You would occasionally see another color, but the room was dominated by that golden color.

They went to the living room and Eruhaben sipped some tea. Hans asked for permission to serve tea to Cale, which Eruhaben nonchalantly granted.

Cale did not know if Hans was just brave or stupid.

"What do you want, human?" Cale expected Eruhaben to be blunt, just like the last time he met him.

"Since Dragon-nim is blunt, I won't beat around the bush. I wanted to ask for your help to rescue a dragon's egg. It will hatch anytime soon." Cale just told him what he wanted.

"Rescue? A dragon's egg? A dragon's egg is something precious. It would be protected by their parents," Eruhaben said while his brow furrowed.

"That's the problem, Dragon-nim. We assume that it was stolen or that its parents were killed. But the dragon's egg is in the hands of a human. We don't know if its hatching would affect the nearby town and the innocent people who do not know about this. And we don't know how to take care of the egg. That's why we ask for your help." Eruhaben looked grim and angry at what Cale said as he was now frowning.

"Which insolent did this?" he asked darkly.

"They are called ARM... They are trying to replicate what happened in the Ancient Times." Eruhaben's jaw clenched as he heard that.

"A human, playing God, huh." He smiled darkly.

"We also found out that they are slowly killing dragons. We found a dragon bone in the Forest of Darkness and one corpse in the Eastern Continent. It seems to be the green dragon." A swift dragon rage was suddenly emitted by Eruhaben.

He was now angry. Hans almost jumped in fright while Choi Han was sweating profusely.

Eruhaben tried to calm himself down, but he was still frowning.

"Let's deal with the dragon's egg first. And then, I will confirm this information you have. If I find out you're lying, I won't hesitate to kill you. Understand?" Eruhaben's stern voice said.

"Understood, Dragon-nim." Cale saluted and smiled.

"Eruhaben... Call me Eruhaben." Eruhaben looked at him as Cale nodded.

"Yes, Eruhaben-nim."

Chapter Text

Eruhaben doesn't know what to think. At this moment, the more urgent task is to rescue the egg that was about to hatch any moment according to this young kid.

"Tell me the coordinates. We'll teleport immediately."

Cale nodded and immediately gave Eruhaben the coordinates of the nearby forest.

As soon as they teleported, they met with Freesia who bowed to Cale as soon as they appeared. The air was filled with dense mana and Eruhaben immediately could feel the fluctuation of that mana. A sign that there's indeed a nearby egg that was about to hatch at any moment.

"Young Master Crescent-nim, we quietly moved the commoners in the vicinity."

Eruhaben didn't pay any attention to what Freesia was saying. It's all because he was more focused on the fact that there's a dragon egg in the vicinity.

"I'll take care of this, no need for you to help," Eruhaben said while his face darkened.

"We'll control the external issue then, Eruhaben-nim."

Without any hindrance, the Rage of the Golden Dragon finally had a channel to release.

The forest was silent, but the tension was loud.

Eruhaben stood in the clearing, his golden hair fluttering as the dense mana continued to rise. The magic was pulsing from deep within the thickets. He turned toward the source and with one step forward, the trees bent slightly, reacting to the pressure of an ancient being.

Cale kept his distance. Freesia, Hans, and Choi Han were stationed just behind him. His eyes didn't leave Eruhaben, who had not spoken since arriving. His expression was dark, and Cale knew that was never a good sign.

The ancient dragon walked forward alone.

“Stay back. Do not interfere,” he warned, not even glancing behind him.

His footsteps were slow but heavy with mana. Dust particles danced around him unnaturally. They weren’t falling, they were floating, orbiting around him like he was a star they couldn’t resist. Cale narrowed his eyes. The Dragon’s attribute was becoming clear now. Dust. It wasn’t just earth. It was the remnants of things destroyed and decayed. A quiet death.

Within minutes, they heard it.

Screams.

Wails.

The sound of wind cutting through bodies. It didn't even take half an hour but they just stayed nearby.

And then silence.

No explosion. No flashy magic. No chaos. Just silence.

But the horror of the other members of Soo'Ari seeing how the Ancient Dragon dealt with the Black Mages, is a pure horror to them. Cale just stayed in his usual stoic expression as Choi Han guarded him who had a blank look at the scene.

When the breeze returned, it carried with it particles of ash and blackened earth.

Cale inhaled slowly. He could taste the residue of mana in the air.

“...He’s done... Just like that.”

Moments later, Eruhaben returned.

In his arms was an obsidian egg. It pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat. His expression was unreadable. His usually pristine robe was lightly dusted with black ash. It didn’t seem to bother him.

He gently placed the egg onto a cloth that Hans quickly unfolded on the ground.

“The black mages are dead. All of them. There were ten. Four were attempting to cast an ancient barrier. It was pitiful,” Eruhaben said plainly. He could see that the egg seemed to be vibrating a lot.

Cale, though slightly pale at the sheer efficiency, gave a respectful nod.

“Thank you for your work, Eruhaben-nim.” It was a sincere gratefulness that made Eruhaben huff.

He finally looked at Cale.

“You said there were knights involved?” Eruhaben frowned a bit.

Cale nodded. He stepped forward.

“Yes. They were there to assist the black mages. However, they are also part of a political faction that must be dealt with... delicately.” Cale gave him a charming smile that made Eruhaben’s eyes narrow.

“They were protecting black mages who were torturing and experimenting on a dragon’s egg.” A gasp was heard among the others.

"The-they already started experimenting?" Freesia asked in shock.

"They were forcing these eggs to hatch for some reason," Cale frowned as it wasn't written in the Birth of a Hero. But it seems like there's more into these situations than he thought.

“And if it were up to me, I would’ve crushed them already,” Cale admitted.

“But?”

“But I need them alive. Not for mercy. There are schemes laid by His Highness. He intends to use this to officially remove Marquis Stan from power and instate Taylor as the new Marquis.” Cale decided to be truthful.

Taylor Stan, the nineteen-year-old eldest son of Marquis Stan and the only sane member of Stan March. He was crippled by Venion a year ago when Taylor became eighteen. While Cale wanted to save Taylor immediately, they needed the expertise of Taylor Stan in the ancient times and ancient powers.

While it's cruel to wait for a year to save him, he did gain something after being crippled. He got a loyal best friend, which is Cage. They are probably still researching for the ancient power to save his legs.

But now is the right timing to address his situation. Not only could they get Taylor Stan on their side, they could give the baby dragon stability by giving him to another dragon.

Eruhaben tilted his head.

“A political move? In a time like this?”

“Yes. ARM isn’t publicly known yet. If we make a move too early, they’ll go underground completely. His Highness needs a reason, one backed by evidence and law, to move against Stan. These knights will be key witnesses and evidence.”

There was silence.

Eruhaben looked back at the forest. He sighed and just shrugged.

“Do what you want.”

“Thank you,” Cale said sincerely.

“They will live, but you owe me. If any of them escape justice, I will handle it personally.” That stern voice had some dragon’s fear which made Cale smile warily.

“Understood.”

Eruhaben knelt by the egg. The surface had small cracks now. It was truly close to hatching.

“I’ll take care of the egg. There’s no other who can raise a dragon. Especially not one like this,” he murmured.

"Huh?" Cale frowned at that sentence.

"What do you mean, Eruhaben-nim?"

"This egg had stayed in its egg for nine thousand years at minimum. Dragons are stronger depending on how long they stay within their eggs. For instance, I stayed in my egg for fifty years. This little dragon would surely become the next Dragon Lord." Cale's breath almost hitched just like the others.

The egg still kept on vibrating as if it was asserting some dominance to something unknown. Cale definitely could feel the fluctuation of the mana.

“Will you keep him in your lair?”

“For now.”

He stood.

“Now tell me, what do you know of ARM’s other movements?”

Cale hesitated.

He knew this was only the beginning.

He glanced at Choi Han, then at Hans, and finally at Freesia.

“We’ll brief you at Red Jewel Villa. I'll give you the coordinates. I have something you’ll want to see. About the Green Dragon… and more.”

Eruhaben did not respond. He merely began walking again, the obsidian egg now floating in a gentle sphere of golden dust.

And behind him, the trees of the forest stood still, unnaturally silent, as if mourning the death of something unseen.

He carefully released a bit of mana to stop the vibration of the egg.

"Little kid, calm down, you're now safe. I'm a dragon as you are." It was a gentle gesture which made Cale smile a bit as he looked at the egg.

At least in this life, this baby dragon would not experience the horrible fate he should have.

"This little kid would hatch by the end of the week. I'll then investigate the second information you gave me." Cale didn't even manage to reply before Eruhaben vanished in an instant.

Cale sighed.

"I guess we're here to clean up the aftermath."

The whispers began, as they always did, not in the polished halls of nobility, but in the bustling alleyways behind bakeries and in the lines at the well.

At first, it was just vague rumors.

“They say Marquis Stan's knights were involved in something shady near the west forest...”

“Heard a group of his men got detained. Something about a forbidden experiment?”

“Didn’t the mountain tremble the other night? The stars dimmed too, they say.”

No one could say for certain what happened. But people noticed that the royal knights passed through without fanfare and returned with prisoners whose armor bore the Stan family crest. The local militia were ordered to clear certain parts of the town. Commoners were paid handsomely to vacate without questions. And a few who lived too close to the affected areas were relocated with unexpected generosity.

Something was going on.

But the news that truly sent the streets humming was what followed the next morning: a royal decree issued in the name of Crown Prince Alberu Crossman.

“Serves him right. That man taxed the southern merchants to their bones.”

“I always said there was something foul about that family. Too much arrogance.”

“Aren’t they the ones whose second son crippled his own brother?”

The nobility, on the other hand, weren’t so quick to speak.

Behind the closed doors of marquis estates and noble salons, the topic was incendiary.

“How could they touch a Marquis house?”

“If Marquis Stan can fall… what does that mean for us?”

“They’re shifting the old powers.”

Indeed, that was the undercurrent no one dared to say outright. The Court’s balance was shifting, and it was Crown Prince Alberu at the helm.

In the royal court, three days later, a formal assembly was held.

The nobles came dressed in their finest. The rumors had reached them, and everyone expected a grand political performance. The marble pillars of the throne room glowed gold under enchanted light, but tension buzzed beneath the shine.

High mages sat beside swordmasters. The High Priest of the God of Death gave a small blessing. And when Crown Prince Alberu entered, clad in black and red with the royal sigil shimmering faintly across his cape, the room fell into an immediate hush.

His steps were measured. His posture is unyielding. A man born to sit upon a throne.

He raised one hand and spoke clearly.

“Today, we gather not for celebration, but for responsibility.”

His words carried the weight of restrained fury.

“For too long, certain noble factions have forgotten the reason their titles were granted. Nobility is not entitlement. It is stewardship. It is duty. And when duty is forsaken, the throne will respond.”

He stepped down from the dais.

A path was cleared as he walked toward the center of the court.

“Marquis Granite Stan,” Alberu’s voice boomed, “has committed grave crimes against the Kingdom. These include the unauthorized use of ancient relics, the sanctioning of illegal experiments on magical artifacts, and the endangerment of civilian populations under his jurisdiction.”

There were murmurs. Carefully veiled surprise and poorly hidden triumph danced behind the composed faces of rival houses.

“Let it be known,” Alberu continued, “that this action was not taken lightly. Evidence has been presented. Witnesses have been heard. And now, the House of Stan will be judged.”

At that moment, the side doors of the court opened.

And the murmurs turned into stunned gasps.

Because walking into the throne room—walking—was Taylor Stan.

No longer seated in a chair.

No longer broken and bowed.

He stood tall. Dressed in noble black with a steel cane that he did not lean on. His steps were controlled, regal. Each movement declared, I am not done.

At his side was Cage, robed in silver-gray with her hair neatly slicked back and her eyes glowing faintly with divine light. She did not wear the holy robes of a Death's God priestess. She stood not as a servant of the church, but as a guardian.

The stunned expressions of the nobles were proof enough. Many thought Taylor Stan would hide away forever. That Venion had eliminated his only competition for inheritance.

But here he was.

Restored. Silent. Alive.

And dangerous.

Alberu gestured to Taylor.

“This is Taylor Stan, rightful heir to the Stan household. He has come to stand as witness, victim, and now—rebuilder.”

Taylor bowed his head, but not deeply. His expression was calm, but Cale—standing in the background, in a robe together with Choi Han in his side—knew exactly what kind of fire burned behind those eyes.

Alberu didn’t stop.

“By royal decree, the title of Marquis will be stripped from Granite Stan. He is to be exiled permanently, his assets liquidated to support the victims of his crimes, and his political rights annulled. The Stan title will now fall to Taylor Stan, who has agreed to restructure the territory under the guidance of the Crown.”

There was clapping, polite but tense.

Nobles processed what this meant. That a crippled heir had returned. That the Crown was no longer idle. That the invisible threads behind the throne were being cut and rewoven by Alberu himself.

Alberu raised his hand one last time.

“To those who have watched the throne with suspicion—watch now with clarity. I do not move for power. I move for the safety of this Kingdom.”

He looked at Duke Orsena and Marchioness Elhaire, Marquis Stan's wife without blinking.

“There will be no mercy for betrayal. The world is changing. And so must we.”

Taylor’s eyes met Cale’s briefly from across the court.

A single nod passed between them.

It had begun. Cale's lips curled up seeing Alberu's showmanship of his power.

He found him hot and handsome just looking at his future Husband that showed his authority. He lowered his robe as leave.

"Lets go, Choi Han. Our work here is done," Choi Han just quietly follow his leige.

Chapter Text

At the dining area of the Henituse estate, it was the first time since the wedding banquet that the entire Henituse family had gathered to eat at the dining table. Lily was seated on Violan’s lap, quietly eating soft solid food, while Basen focused intently on his plate, clearly trying to maintain his composure.

Cale had just returned from a trip to a location none of the Henituse family members were informed about. The atmosphere was tense, with the others observing the subtle tension that lingered between Cale and Deruth.

“Cale...” Deruth spoke, his tone anxious, eyes fixed on his eldest son.

“Yes, Father?” Cale responded. His tone was extremely formal, almost distant, and it made Deruth wince.

“Did you hear about what happened in the Tolz Territory?” Deruth asked, trying to read Cale’s expression as he stared at him.

“I got some reports, but I didn’t pay much attention. Do you need something?” Cale asked, his eyes meeting Deruth’s calmly.

“The fight for the throne is going to escalate. Be careful. We might get dragged into the power struggle. They found an opening,” Deruth warned quietly, his tone calm yet heavy.

Cale’s lips curled into a slight smile.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he replied, already understanding what his father was truly saying. Since the Henituse household was part of the neutral faction, they had to be even more cautious now. Supporting Alberu outright was impossible—not without consequences.

But that had always been the point.

That was the reason why the Soo'Ari was created. It was so Alberu could build his own faction in secret, one not bound by court or blood.

Cale recalled the moment when Cage and Taylor approached him during his stay in the Stan Territory. He had been handling unfinished matters before traveling to the capital to witness Alberu’s announcement.

It was then that they mentioned the intervention of the God of Death.

The God had offered help to them. Direct, tangible help.

And Cale, who doesn't like the gods before, had decided to curse the God of Death in his mind more.

Dressed in simple, nondescript clothes — a plain brown cloak worn with fraying gloves and dust-coated boots — he didn’t look like the famous eldest young master of the Henituse County or even a minor noble. He looked like an unremarkable traveler, or at best, a tired merchant's assistant. It was easy to blend in when he purposefully made himself unremarkable.

He crouched in front of a dilapidated wall, slipping out carefully folded papers from a hidden compartment inside a worn leather bag. It was a collection of financial ledgers and slave trade records — documents that would expose Marquis Stan’s collaboration with illegal black market brokers, as well as detailed timelines of knight movements and “experimental transfers.” They weren't just evidence. They were polished daggers, ready to stab the Marquis from multiple angles.

He was planting evidence at the alleged underground bases of criminals in Stan Territory. Cale was sure that the official investigators from the Royal Court would be here tomorrow or the day after.

Cale, now checking over forged signatures and subtle trail markers, narrowed his eyes and muttered, “Just a bit more, and this will be enough to start a controlled collapse.”

He could let his subordinates handle these trivial things. But Cale wanted to see the process with his own eyes, as this was a pivotal moment for Alberu — an opportunity to gain another faction to his side. The Stan Territory happened to support the third prince, just like the Gyerre household before.

After planting those pieces of evidence, he quietly exited that inconspicuous place, carrying himself as if he were just a commoner.

He did not expect footsteps behind him.

Two shadows cast over him, but he did not move. Not until one of them spoke.

“You’re the eldest young master of the Henituse household, aren’t you?”

Cale stilled. Heightened senses took over as he observed the surroundings, checking for escape routes.

He slowly stood, hand drifting toward his inner coat pocket where a blade was hidden, eyes sharp as he turned to meet the speaker. His expression was unreadable — a blank mask of irritation and quiet caution.

The speaker, a woman in white priest robes with silver embroidery, smiled easily, unbothered by the sharp look he gave her. She looked holy, smiling politely as she pushed the wheelchair of someone he knew very well.

“You must be mistaken, Priest-nim. I’m simply running errands for my master,” Cale said, deliberately acting anxious. He fidgeted with his hands and avoided eye contact. His head bowed slightly, as if afraid of offending them.

He looked convincing — especially with how naturally he carried himself in a servile manner. It was a careful act that Cale, no, Kim Rok Soo, had perfected when he lived in Korea. It was deliberate — from gesture to posture to speech pattern. Something he had studied like a holy bible in his last life.

It looked so natural that both Cage and Taylor seemed doubtful, as though they had found the wrong person.

But the constant whispering of the God of Death in her head kept Cage certain.

“I’m Cage. High Priestess of the God of Death,” she said politely, as if they were in a formal setting — far from their current surroundings, which sat between the slums and the underground bases of the Stan household’s criminals.

Beside her stood a young man with pale platinum hair and a calm, observant expression. Though his clothes were plain, there was a firmness in his posture and an elegance that only someone raised in nobility possessed.

Cale paused, feigning ignorance. He really didn’t want to deal with these two right now.

“Do you need something from me, Priest-nim? Eldest Young Master?” he asked, his tone nervous, his body language awkward.

Acting was something Cale had done since he was young in his first life. Backed by two lifetimes, his proficiency was top-notch. It almost fooled the two — if not for the God of Death repeatedly confirming his identity, they might have truly believed he was someone else.

The woman continued.

“Young Master Cale, pardon my rudeness, but the God of Death told me who you are. He confirmed it repeatedly in my head. He said you’d be here... fixing things. I’d like to say I was surprised, but he described you as a ‘swearing and back-talking headache who does good things despite himself.’” Cage spoke awkwardly, her smile a little stiff.

Cale blinked, then muttered under his breath, “The motherfucking God,” before he could stop himself.

Taylor seemed a bit surprised but smiled gently.

Cage, on the other hand, looked like she was beaming. No — she was gloating.

“Oh, I like you already,” she said, amused.

Cale sighed and dragged a hand down his face. His expression shifted in a blink from awkward commoner to stoic young master.

“Of course. A literal god had to open his mouth. Just my luck,” Cale thought, mentally groaning.

He studied them more carefully now. Cage was obviously a wild card, but her divine power couldn’t be dismissed. And the man beside her...

“You must be Taylor Stan,” he said quietly. A polite business smile formed on his lips — not demeaning, but also not submissive despite Taylor’s higher standing.

Taylor gave a light nod.

“I am. Though most assume I’m just a crippled disgrace locked away in the family’s back corner.”

His voice was calm and steady. There was no bitterness, only quiet resolve. Cale appreciated that.

Still, he remained wary.

“What do you want?” he asked bluntly. “I’m busy.”

Cage lifted her hand, hesitating slightly. The two of them clearly looked desperate.

“The God of Death said you might know how to fix something.”

Taylor, for the first time, showed a flicker of emotion — a subtle tightening of the jaw, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“I want to walk again,” Taylor said.

Cale was silent for a long moment.

He wasn’t surprised. It wasn’t hard to guess where this conversation was going. The God of Death wouldn’t send someone to him without a reason.

“You’re asking for a miracle,” Cale said flatly.

“We’re not demanding anything,” Cage interjected gently. “But we heard from the God of Death that you... that you know a way. Young Master-nim, please... help us.”

Cale’s mind immediately turned to Alberu Crossman.

The Star of Healing.

A one-time-use ancient power that could restore something utterly broken — physically, magically, and spiritually. Cale hesitated.

He never wanted to expose his connection to Alberu too early. But Taylor Stan... Taylor could help uncover secrets of ancient times and the ancient powers. And Cale needed him alive, healthy, and indebted.

After all, the current White Star had been seduced by the legacy of the ancient White Star — or so Super Rock’s theory suggested.

But Cale also needed insurance.

“I’ll consider helping you,” Cale said slowly, “but you’ll swear not to reveal my identity, involvement, or the information I’m about to give you.”

Cage raised a brow. “You want a vow?”

“Not just any vow. A vow of death.”

Cage nodded without hesitation. “That’s fine.”

Taylor echoed her. “I swear it. I won’t speak a word of this to anyone.”

The air thickened slightly as the vow took root. Cale could feel it — the invisible tether of divine enforcement. A vow of death was absolute.

Satisfied, Cale crossed his arms.

“There is a person. A once-forgotten prince, in fact. He holds the Star of Healing. A one-time-use power that can undo even the cruelest of injuries. But he’ll never hand it over for free.”

Taylor did not flinch.

“We’re prepared to make a deal.”

Cale watched them carefully, then slowly gave a nod.

“I’ll arrange the meeting. But not now. Not until I clear the path. There are things in motion, and your return to the world has to be done with precision,” Cale said, giving a subtle hint about his close relationship with Alberu.

Taylor’s calm expression did not waver.

“I’ll wait.” A small smile appeared on Taylor’s lips.

Cale studied him again. Taylor did not grovel, did not beg, did not cry. He held himself with dignity. There was power there — potential.

Cage, still smiling, tilted her head.

“You know, for someone who curses the gods, you’re doing the work of one.”

“I’d prefer if the gods stayed out of it,” Cale muttered.

Cage laughed. “Unfortunately for you, the God of Death likes sticking his nose into trouble. And you, Cale Henituse, are the most delicious kind of trouble.”

Cale rolled his eyes and turned away.

“Just don’t get in my way,” he groaned as Taylor and Cage chuckled.

“Young Master Taylor, aside from your legs, everything else is still normal. You have hands, a mouth, intelligence. You are still alive, so you can turn the tables — as long as you know when to seize opportunities,” Cale said.

The two looked shocked at first, then smiled widely.

“We’ll forever be grateful for this, Young Master. How about we drink?” Cage pulled out a bottle of wine from her robe, which made Cale freeze for a moment.

“Stop giving alcohol to a minor, Cage. Young Master Cale is just a minor,” Taylor reminded her with a sigh.

Cage looked genuinely guilty. “Sorry... I forgot you're a minor because of how you carry yourself.”

Cale chuckled. “It’s fine. Why don’t you come with us? We’re heading to the capital anyway.”

With that offer, Taylor and Cage agreed to the arrangement. They reached the capital in just a second, thanks to the teleportation scroll in Cale’s possession.

Chapter Text

Inside the heart of Mount Yellia, where the air shimmered faintly with condensed mana and the walls glowed with ancient magic, Eruhaben's lair stood still in quiet anticipation.

The large, obsidian egg sat on a nest of woven gold threads and layered cushioning spells, pulsating with a faint, deep hum. Cracks began to form, delicate lines spreading from the center of the shell like spiderwebs.

Eruhaben stood nearby, his tall figure bathed in the soft light of the lair's crystal sconces. His long, golden hair was tied back in a loose ribbon, and his brows furrowed in both concentration and silent worry.

The dragon egg trembled again.

He stepped closer, extending a single hand, letting a gentle flow of gold-infused mana envelope the egg. The cracks responded, widening steadily. The air thickened, charged with both power and life.

"You hatch earlier than I expected," he murmured quietly, voice carrying both fondness and solemnity. "But I suppose dragons never wait when it is time."

The shell caved in, a piece falling away with a soft clatter. A small claw, jet black and gleaming with natural magic, pushed through. Another piece broke, then another, until a tiny snout emerged, followed by trembling wings that were still too soft to lift.

Eruhaben lowered himself onto one knee.

The newly hatched dragon let out a weak, high-pitched cry, blinking his large blue eyes at the world for the first time. His scales were pure black, like polished obsidian, absorbing the light around him. Mana clung to him, reacting instinctively as if nature itself recognized him.

The old ancient dragon observed in silence.

He did not touch him. Not yet. Instead, Eruhaben guided more mana into the surroundings, making the transition from the egg to the world outside less jarring.

"Breathe," he said softly, more command than encouragement. "Feel your body. Feel the world."

The small dragon took a shaky breath, then another. His limbs trembled, but he managed to pull himself free from the broken shell. His wings dragged behind him, still wet and limp, but alive.

Eruhaben let out a long breath of his own.

"It's a miracle," he said under his breath, watching the dragon look around with cautious curiosity. "Even in this decaying world, miracles still happen."

Eruhaben just observed the young dragon who stayed in his egg for 9000 years. A dragon that could potentially become the next dragon.

Eruhaben doesn't know what kind of miracle this little hatching would do when he gets older.

The young one sneezed suddenly, a spark of black mana puffing from his nostrils. It dissipated in the air without harm. Eruhaben chuckled, a rare and soft sound.

"You'll grow into that mana soon enough."

He finally moved, lifting a hand and slowly placing it on the hatchling's head. The black dragon leaned into the touch.

Eruhaben closed his eyes, sending a small blessing through his palm, a rite of protection only the ancient dragons could give. The hatchling chirped quietly, as if responding.

"Olliene is gone," he said quietly, as if explaining to the young one. "And we don't know what happened to your parents. But I am here. I will teach you what it means to be a dragon."

The small one looked up at him. He did not speak, but in his azure eyes, there was understanding.

Eruhaben stood, allowing a moment of silence to stretch between them.

"Rest now. Grow. The world you will see soon is not kind, but it will need you."

His voice was low, but firm.

"You were born in an era of turbulence. And that means you have a role to play." He remembered the information that the unlucky bastard kept on updating him.

He supposed that kid is resourceful and knows what he was doing. He had already confirmed the death of his friend, which he mourned silently.

He would not forgive whoever had done that to Ollienne. He would make sure that he would get his justice, even if it meant cooperating a bit with humans.

Behind him, the golden mana threads shimmered like sunlight on still water. The lair felt warmer, alive.

The black dragon curled into the remaining shell pieces, eyes fluttering closed as he nestled into the golden nest, a small puff of dark mana rising from his breath.

Eruhaben watched over him with silent vigilance, the weight of centuries heavy on his shoulders, and a strange, unfamiliar hope blooming in his heart.

"Aigoo," he muttered again, turning away slightly. "Why do I always get involved with troublesome children?"

But he stayed.

And the mountain remained quiet as the wind blew gently through the ancient dragon's lair.

The world was warm.

That was the first thing he had learned.

Not just warm like the shell he once lived in, but warm in many different ways. Warm light from the golden threads under his body. Warm air carrying the scent of glowing stones and mana. And warm... touch.

The large golden dragon, Eruhaben, had a hand that felt like safety. His voice was strange and rough sometimes, but it never frightened the black dragon.

Eruhaben spoke to him a lot. Not always with words. Sometimes with quiet looks, gestures, or waves of mana that guided him gently.

And the black dragon listened.

He listened and learned.

By the third day, he had walked the length of the lair on unsteady legs. By the fourth, he learned how to steady his wings even though they were still too small to fly. And now, a week after breaking his shell, he was no longer crawling, but bouncing.

Literally.

"Goldie Gramps!"

Eruhaben twitched. His teacup nearly slipped from his long fingers.

"...What did you call me?" the ancient dragon asked, voice calm but carrying a faint trace of disbelief.

The black dragon beamed, if dragons could beam, with pride, his little claws tapping against the smooth floor as he trotted over. He had heard that phrase from Eruhaben once, muttered under his breath when reading a letter sent by some human child.

So he said it. Because it sounded funny. And also because Eruhaben did have gold everywhere. Hair, eyes, lair. Even his pillows shimmered.

"You are gold. You are old. So... Goldie Gramps!"

Eruhaben closed his eyes and let out a long sigh.

"I'm an ancient dragon, you disrespectful brat."

"But you're kind," the black dragon chirped.

Eruhaben stared at him, mouth slightly open.

"...Are you really a dragon?" he murmured.

The black dragon tilted his head, then grinned. "Of course, yes. I'm a great and mighty dragon like you." The black dragon was puffing and huffing at the moment.

Eruhaben muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, "Troublesome hatchling," before waving a hand.

"Go practice breathing mana properly. No more pestering me during my tea."

But the black dragon didn't go immediately. He crept closer and curled his tail around Eruhaben's foot, nestling against his side.

"You're warm," he mumbled.

Eruhaben stilled.

The young one continued, softer this time.

"I thought dragons were supposed to be alone. That we were cold. I heard the world is full of people who worship or wanted to get us tamed because of our power."

He blinked his big azure eyes, looking up.

"I wanted to see the world, Goldie Gramps." There was pure curiosity in the black dragon's eyes as he fluttered his wings.

Eruhaben looked away. He carefully set his cup down.

"You're too cheerful for your own good."

"I know."

"You'll get hurt out there." There was a hint of concern in his voice as he looked at this young dragon.

"I'll be careful."

"You'll still get hurt."

The black dragon paused. Then, he nodded.

"Then I'll come back here when it hurts. Because you're warm."

Eruhaben rubbed his temple.

"I raised dozens of younger dragons in my time, but you," he glanced down at the small one clinging to his leg, "you're going to be the worst of them."

"Best of them," the black dragon corrected with a proud grin.

Eruhaben sighed again. Then, after a pause, he reached down and gently placed a hand on the black dragon's head.

"You're still a hatchling. Don't act like you know the world."

The young one leaned into the touch, purring softly. "But I'm learning fast."

"Yes. That's what worries me."

The two remained like that for a moment, one ancient, one newly born.

The lair was quiet, save for the gentle humming of mana and the distant wind brushing against the mountain.

"Goldie Gramps."

"What?"

"I think I want to see the world one day. Maybe I would see that warm light." Eruhaben closed his eyes.

"I know."

"And when I do... I'll protect it."

Eruhaben opened his eyes and looked down again, truly looking. The black dragon's scales were smooth and glossy, his aura already thick with potential, and his heart, innocent and bright.

Perhaps too bright.

"Aigoo," the golden dragon muttered, resting his head against the cool stone wall behind him. Eruhaben knew what that light was.

"Just don't grow up to be another unlucky bastard."

"Who's unlucky... Bas?" Eruhaben didn't let him finish as he stared with a warning.

"No one important," Eruhaben lied quickly.

The black dragon raised a brow. "You're lying."

Eruhaben looked down.

"Now how in the world did you learn that already?"

The black dragon just grinned wider.

"Because I'm smart."

Eruhaben let out a huff of reluctant laughter and flicked the young one's forehead gently.

"Then use that brain to go practice your mana breath."

"Yes, Goldie Gramps."

The small black dragon dashed off, tail swishing behind him with excitement, little wings fluttering even if they didn't lift him yet. Mana rippled from him like echoes of a storm yet to form.

Eruhaben leaned back, watching with narrowed eyes.

"So cheerful," he said under his breath again.

"And yet..."

He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to.

Because deep inside, he knew.

This child would one day stand in the middle of a storm greater than any they had faced before.

And he would choose to protect it.

Even if it hurt.

Just like a certain red-haired headache did.

The world was bigger than he had imagined.
And louder.

The first time the young black dragon followed Eruhaben beyond the main cavern, he nearly tripped over his own tail. The ancient dragon's lair stretched like a sprawling maze: sunlit galleries carved into crystal, narrow tunnels lined with dusted relics, and one enormous chamber that smelled of parchment and ink.

Books.

Stacks and stacks of them, volumes piled high on carved stone shelves, delicate scrolls bound in silk, and thick tomes so heavy they required magic just to lift. The instant the hatchling peeked in, his eyes widened until they filled half his face.

"Wow... Goldie Gramps, what is this place?"

Eruhaben paused at the threshold, turning with mild surprise.
"My archive. A collection from two thousand years of wandering. Thought I had locked this tunnel."

"You did," the hatchling answered, wings fluttering. "Locks break if you breathe mana on them the right way."

Eruhaben pinched the bridge of his nose.
"You were hatching one week ago."

"I learn fast."

The golden dragon's sigh echoed through the shelves.
"Knowledge is heavy. Do not lift more than you can carry."

But the hatchling was already inside, sniffing ancient vellum and pawing at leather spines. He found a ladder of conjured light, one of Eruhaben's convenient tricks, and scampered upward, claws clinking on invisible rungs.

He chose a slim volume first. Gold-edged. Faded title:
Basic Rune Structures for Apprentice Mages.

He flipped it open with careful claws. Lines of symbols glowed faintly, reacting to his mana signature. They rearranged themselves into simpler diagrams. He tilted his head, curious.

"Four fundamental rune circuits... Mana flow stabilisers... This is like breathing," he whispered.

By the time Eruhaben finished warding the broken lock, the hatchling had already bounded to a second shelf. That one held atlases, shifting maps of ley-lines, continents, and planar gates. Each time he tapped a location, the parchment flashed, projecting tiny illusions of flowing mana orbits.

He memorised twenty in minutes.

When Eruhaben returned, he found the hatchling balanced on a stack of stone manuscripts, scribbling shaky copies of rune patterns in the dust with his claws.

"You have not even moulted your first scale," the ancient dragon muttered, equal parts annoyed and impressed.
"And you are learning runes."

"They glow when I touch them. They explain themselves." The hatchling wiggled happily.
"It feels... easy."

"Arrogance," Eruhaben warned. "Runes can kill the unwary."

"I will ask if I am unsure," the hatchling promised. Then he frowned, trying to draw a perfect mana circuit. His line wobbled. He rubbed it out and tried again.
"Like this?"

Eruhaben looked closer, then raised a brow.
"Correct ratio. Wrong orientation. But for the first attempt, not bad."

The hatchling's eyes sparkled. Praise felt warm, warmer than the nest. He tried again, tail swishing.

Days passed that way.

In the morning, he had mana-breathing exercises.
In the afternoon, he would be reading until his head buzzed.
In the evening, Eruhaben quizzed him, tapping the floor with a golden claw each time he answered too quickly.

He discovered that dust had memories.

All the microscopic particles swirling around Eruhaben obeyed subtle commands. When the old dragon exhaled, dust drawing near him crystallised into flecks of gold, then drifted away like glittering snow. The hatchling tried mimicking it, shaping specks of black dust into tiny swirling spirals. They fell apart, but he kept practising until they formed a shaky ring.

Eruhaben said nothing, though a small smile tugged at his lips.

Books taught the hatchling about other dragons too. Blue dragons that rode lightning storms. Green dragons that sang with forests. Ancient white dragons that once tried to swallow the sun. The world was vast, brimming with stories, and he wanted to see every page.

One evening, after hours spent deciphering draconic grammar, he pressed close to Eruhaben's side.

"Goldie Gramps, why do books smell like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like old rain and quiet nights."

Eruhaben laughed, deep and soft.
"That is the scent of time, little one."

The hatchling nodded solemnly, as if storing the answer for later.

In only a week he learned to read draconic glyphs, identify basic constellations, and stabilise a child-grade mana shield. Eruhaben watched, both proud and wary. Such speed was unheard of, even for prodigies.

"Are you truly a dragon?" the ancient dragon teased again one night.

The hatchling blinked.
"I think so. I hatched from an egg, did I not?"

"Sometimes I wonder."

The little dragon tilted his head.
"Because I talk a lot?"

"Because you ask too many questions."

A grin split the hatchling's face.
"Then I will ask one more."

Eruhaben sighed into his cup.
"Go on."

"When may I visit outside?"

The ancient dragon set down his tea. Golden eyes reflected the lair's lamplight.

"Soon," he said at last. "When your wings can bear you, and when you understand that the world outside is not as kind as these shelves."

"I will be ready," the hatchling promised, tail thumping.

"I suspect you will," Eruhaben murmured.

And the lamps burned late into the night as the small black dragon copied runes, sketched maps, and dreamed of skies he had never seen.

Chapter Text

The grass was cool beneath his back. Cale Henituse, the fifteen-year-old eldest son of the Count, Rain City's golden boy no matter how much he denied it, was lying beneath the shade of a crooked tree in the far west garden.

One hand rested behind his head. The other held a half-eaten green apple he had been slowly, lazily chewing for the past twenty minutes.

For once, he wasn't doing anything. He was just observing the clouds under the shade of the tree with a solemn face.

He wasn't doing what he did in his first life, pretending to be trash. He was much more laid back in this life compared to both of the lives he had lived before.

Aside from his daily training, he often spent time with both of his siblings and made sure the two of them were doing what they were passionate about. Of course, he taught them from time to time, disguising it as conversation or games so they wouldn't get bored.

He had occasional cooking sessions with Beacrox and let Violan taste the food they made. He went out of the manor to stroll around and did the work that needed him.

But if you compared this work to how much effort he put in both his first and second lives, this was not much, and he could slack off by the end of the day. A luxury he never had in either of the lives he had lived.

In his first life, he was constantly acting like trash. Making sure his reputation stayed the worst while simultaneously keeping the county relatively safe by constantly picking fights with gangsters and thugs. Making sure even Ron wouldn't find out, which took a lot.

He also had to keep the vassal households in check if they tried anything funny. From the time he woke up to the time he slept, he was constantly observing and maintaining the image of trash.

Then the war happened. He had to constantly work and had no time to mourn the death of his whole family. He had to make sure the territory had at least some normalcy, even if he had to move without rest.

It wasn't unusual for him to pass out from exhaustion just to keep the people safe.

In his second life, everything started well, but when he turned eight, his parents died. This time, he had to constantly move as if he wasn’t even there. He had to make sure not to make noise, not to make mistakes. He had to mature immediately to observe his uncle.

After getting out, he had to survive in an orphanage with a low budget due to corruption. He had to compete with other children for basic needs and was isolated by his peers because they thought he was a jinx.

Then the cataclysm happened. And it felt like hell had descended upon them. Everyone lived in constant fear and had to work hard to survive. Sleep was a luxury.

So yes, compared to those two lives, his third life was like paradise. He had a large support system. He was slowly accepting that he was loved, even if he often questioned it. He could rest, slack off, and just sleep and eat whenever he wanted.

He liked it very much.

He was just lying there, in the green, beneath an unhurried sky. And that was enough.

Footsteps approached. But Cale didn’t move.

Ron.

Of course it was Ron.

"Young Master." Cale didn’t answer immediately. He let the silence hang a little longer, feeling the warmth of the filtered sun on his eyelids.

"Didn't know this spot was in your patrol route."

"It isn’t," Ron replied. "But the servants said you disappeared. Again."

Cale smirked without opening his eyes. "I didn’t disappear. I just happened to rest here."

"To the part of the estate overgrown with weeds and bees?" Ron asked benignly, and Cale flushed in embarrassment.

"The weeds mind their own business. And the bees are polite," he replied.

There was the faint sound of fabric shifting as Ron settled onto the nearby bench—one of those old stone ones that had cracked slightly down the middle.

Neither spoke for a while.

The wind stirred through the trees. In the distance, the faint hammering of the forge echoed across the grounds. It was a peaceful noise, steady and unthreaten.

"Something on your mind, Young Master? This Ron could help with anything," Ron finally said, breaking the silence.

Cale looked at the clouds again, staring at them as he raised his hand and seemed to want to grab them.

Cale finally opened his eyes. He looked up at the tangle of leaves and light above him.

"I think... it's easier to talk when it's not about me," he admitted.

Ron hummed. Not agreement, not disapproval. Just... listening.

Cale stared at the sky for a long time. Then he asked quietly, "Do you believe people can be born tired?"

Ron turned slightly. "Not tired in the body."

"No," Cale agreed. "In the bones. In the... inside part."

His voice wasn't trembling. It wasn’t theatrical. It wasn’t desperate.

It was calm.

Too calm, maybe.

"In my previous lives," he said slowly, "I sometimes felt like questioning why I still wanted to survive, despite the world seemingly giving me more and more reasons to just stop. Questioning if my decisions were right. Or if I just made it worse."

"Worse?"

"It got lonelier," Cale admitted again. "Colder, like no one cared. And I didn’t care, either." He looked at the clouds again. And the tiredness he carried was in full view of Ron.

Ron didn’t interrupt. He only watched him closely.

Cale continued, almost absently. "I had no family. No name that meant anything. Just work. Survival. And a rooftop with no railing."

A pause.

"I think... I think I fell once. Not sure if I’m beyond repair. It's just tiring," Cale smiled bitterly.

"Sometimes I envy the clouds... They are so free, devoid of human emotion."

Ron’s expression didn’t change. But his fingers tightened ever so slightly where they rested on his knee.

"And this life?" Ron asked, voice steady.

Cale rolled the apple in his hand, eyes following its slow turn.

"This life is warm. It makes me nervous."

"That’s normal." Cale looked at him with deep eyes.

That was when Ron realized, Cale might not have fully developed his emotions. He was young when he started acting as trash in his first life, and he had to suppress those emotions because showing a bit of emotion might get him beaten.

He also realized Cale couldn’t believe he was worth being loved, or that he mattered too. He felt grim.

"Is it?"

"Yes. For those who didn’t grow up with warmth, comfort can feel like a trap." Cale went still.

"...I never said I didn’t grow up with warmth."

"You didn’t have to," Ron said simply.

They sat in silence again.

The clouds shifted above them, slow and soft. The kind of day that felt like the world was trying not to disturb him.

"I don’t want to be that person again," Cale said eventually.

"The one who always survives while everyone dies, leaving me alone." Ron pulled Cale gently to his shoulder so he could lean into him.

"You don’t have to," Ron replied.

Ron stood, stepping beside him. He crouched slowly, then reached out and pressed a firm, warm hand to Cale’s head.

It wasn’t affectionate, not quite. It was grounding. Solid. Real.

"If you feel alone," Ron said, "we’ll still be here."

Cale blinked.

Ron added, "Your two lives don’t have to fight your third life. It just needs to be lived."

Cale scoffed, but it was soft. "That was almost poetic."

"I’m old. I’m allowed to be." They both smiled.

Cale let his head fall back onto the grass and stared up again at the sky.

"Sometimes," he murmured, "I lie here because the sky doesn’t ask anything from me."

"And if it did?"

"I’d tell it to mind its own business."

Ron chuckled. "Then rest while you can, Young Master. Before the world starts knocking again."

Cale shut his eyes.

And, for once, he allowed himself to believe the world could wait.

Two years later, in the Eastern Continent, Mount Nex.

Two cats escaped from the cage their fellow tribesmen had locked them in, seizing the only opportunity left to flee the land they once called home.

It had been a year since their parents died, and everything since had been a personal hell. They were treated as pariahs, mutants, and a plague.

Worse still, they had become human targets. Many cats used them as personal punching bags, tearing down their sense of worth with cruel words and brutal hands.

But now, On and Hong, the two unfortunate children of the Fog Cat Tribe, were running like their lives depended on it.

"Noona!" Hong’s voice cracked from exertion, his breath fogging in the freezing air.

"I know!" On shouted back. Her feet barely touched the forest floor as she ducked low, silver hair flying behind her like a comet’s tail. Her ears twitched. She leapt across a half-collapsed root bridge. "They’re flanking us from the right!"

Behind them, a dozen pairs of glowing eyes glittered with hatred.

The Fog Cat Tribe had once been feared across the Eastern Continent. Agile. Silent. Ghosts of the highlands. Now, they hunted their own blood.

Mutants. Cursed spawn. Descendants of a traitor’s line. On and Hong had been called worse by their pursuers.

Hong coughed hard, paws barely shifting into his combat form. His claws scraped against bark as he vaulted over a fallen log.

On caught him mid-stumble, gritting her teeth. His side was bleeding again.

"Just a little farther. The ridge is near. The river too."

"But the mist—"

"I’ll use it," On said, her eyes briefly glowing with eerie purple mana. "If we get to the river, I can cover us."

A scream echoed behind them. One of their cousins had triggered a buried trap.

A cruel part of On didn’t feel sorry.

They reached the cliff’s edge just as more shadows burst from the brush. Arrows whistled through the air. One grazed Hong’s shoulder. He hissed but didn’t fall.

"You can’t run forever!" one of the warriors shouted, his voice savage with hate. "You two should’ve died with your filthy parents!"

"Shut up," On growled. She turned and hurled a crystal shard into the undergrowth. Mana pulsed around it, dark and coiling. A cloud of illusory mist exploded outward, thick and sudden.

"Now, Hong!"

The two siblings jumped.

The river below roared like a beast. Winter fed it well. Snowmelt and mountain runoff churned together into a maelstrom of freezing death. But it was better than the spears behind them.

They hit the water.

Pain tore through them. The river was cold like razors. It swallowed them whole.

Gasping for air, bodies trembling, they fought to stay together. The current battered them, tore at their limbs, threatened to drag them into the abyss.

But they held on.

Because this pain, this cold, this chaos—none of it compared to what they had endured in the home that had turned against them.

They survived the river. Barely.

On dragged Hong from the freezing current with what little strength she had left. Her limbs trembled, her breath came in short, ragged bursts, and her vision blurred at the edges. A few cracked ribs. Dozens of bruises. Cuts that refused to stop stinging. Her body was near collapse.

But her grip on Hong never loosened.

She tried everything to warm them. She shook their small bodies, coaxing out the river water trapped in their fur. Her own paws were bleeding from the rocks and ice, but she kept going.

They didn't dare light a fire.

So they moved only by night. Slept curled together under twisted roots or buried in snow-drift dens, hidden from hunters and the cold alike. They stole food from traveling merchants when they had the chance. Fished in half-frozen streams when they could. The meat was raw and the water colder than pain, but it kept them alive.

Winter was unrelenting. It bit through their fur, through the tattered coats they found and wrapped around themselves. It dug into their bones, whispered doubts in their sleep.

They didn’t speak much anymore.

Words took energy.

Each step westward was survival.

There were times On wanted to cry. Times she wanted to stop walking, curl into a ball, and just let the snow bury her. But she couldn't. She wouldn't.

The Eastern Continent was not safe. Not for them.

She could still remember the eyes of their tribesmen. Burning with hatred. With betrayal. As if she and Hong had committed a crime just by breathing.

They would find them wherever they went in the Eastern lands. No cave, no village, no forest was safe anymore.

That was what On feared the most. Not for herself. But for her little brother.

"I'm scared, Noona," Hong whispered once, voice hoarse and small under the starless sky.

On said nothing at first.

She only held him, pulling him close, burying her face into his shoulder as tears finally fell. She wept without sound. No screams. No sobs. Just a silent mourning for the life they lost and the pain they carried.

"Don't worry, Dongsaeng," she whispered into his matted hair, voice shaking. "Everything will be fine the moment we escape the Eastern Continent. We'll figure everything out."

She told herself this again and again.

Not just for Hong.

But for herself too.

They boarded a ship at a shadowed port, slipping into the cargo hold when no one was looking. It was a desperate plan, barely thought through. But desperation was all they had left.

Maybe, this time, their tribe wouldn't see them again.

They hid in the basement of the ship, deep where the stacked crates of food and supplies lay. The smell of salt, metal, and preserved grain clung to everything. On had wanted to avoid stealing, her conscience gnawing at her with every breath.

But they hadn’t had a decent meal in days.

So she stole.

Just a little. Just enough. A piece of bread. A sip of water. Barely enough to fill their stomachs.

Her hands shook the first time. Her eyes kept darting to the stairs, expecting heavy boots to thunder down and drag them out.

Her conscience screamed it was wrong.

But the hollow ache in their bellies was louder.

One week in, a storm struck.

The ship groaned like a wounded beast. Waves slammed into the hull, and the floor pitched violently under them. Crates shifted and crashed. Barrels rolled, nearly crushing their small forms. They clung to the shadows, eyes wide, hearts pounding.

Sleep became a luxury they couldn't afford. They stayed awake, trembling, listening to the chaos outside and above. Every creak of the wood made them flinch.

The temperature rose with the storm. The air in the hold turned thick and suffocating. Their breaths came harder, shallower. They began to sweat even in the cold.

Then, the storm passed.

But On didn't wake up for two days.

When she finally stirred, she was burning with fever, curled beside Hong like a ragged doll. Her skin was pale, and her breathing came in soft, dry gasps.

Hong held her hand tightly, as if afraid she'd vanish.

"You said we would make it," he whispered.

She didn’t answer right away. Her cracked lips moved slowly.

Then, hoarsely, "We will."

Hunger gnawed at them worse than any enemy they had known. It wasn't sharp or immediate like fear. It was slow and dull, clawing at their bones from the inside.

Hong hadn’t spoken in a day.

His eyes were sunken. Lips dry and split. He reached into his coat and pulled out the last piece of bread they had. He tried to offer it to her.

On slapped it back into his hands and turned away, trembling.

Her whole body ached. But more than anything, it hurt to see her brother trying to starve for her.

They sat in silence. The only sound was the groan of the ship and the occasional screech of a seagull overhead.

Every now and then, On would whisper memories.

Stories of their parents. The time Hong got stuck in the laundry basket. The way the moonlight used to shine on the lake outside their old home. She whispered them softly, almost as if to herself, because silence made the hunger feel bigger.

Each day was a struggle. Each breath, a decision.

But they endured.

They had escaped the cage.

And though this ship was no paradise, and the journey ahead remained dark and cold, they were free.

That was something.

And for now, it was enough.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*
   
They arrived on the western shores like ghosts-pale, thin, and trembling. Just like how they board is how they leave. Nobody even found out the two cats who boarded with them. And the two are grateful for that.

On kissed the ground and Hong collapsed beside her.

They were safe. Maybe.

But their tribe's hatred still burned in their memories. Their mother's blood still stained their dreams. They had been hunted for existing-for being the children of the last rightful chief. The rebellion had stripped them of family, home, and name.

But not of each other.

"We'll find it," On said, staring at the distant forests.

"Find what?" Hong murmured, eyes closed.

"A place that won't hate us just for being born."

He didn't reply. He just squeezed her hand.

They lay there under the grey sky, listening to the cold wind.

Two orphans. Two survivors.

Alive. But not whole.

Not yet but maybe someday.

Chapter Text

Three weeks later, at the outskirts of the Roan Kingdom

The wind had changed.

It smelled cleaner, sharper. Less like salt and rot, more like cold stone and pine trees. The kind of air that reminded On of cliffs and highland forests. Of danger, yes, but also distance. Safety, maybe.

She shifted beneath the tarp, feline ears twitching. Her silver tail curled tighter around Hong's small, sleeping form. His breath was slow, heavy, curled in on himself against the cold in the corner of the cart.

They hadn't shifted into their human forms for the past two days. Not since slipping into the merchant's wagon with the cover of night and hiding among the crates of pottery and sacks of barley. They only moved when it was safe, only ate when they were starving. Even now, her stomach growled angrily. She flattened her ears against her head to ignore it.

The merchant was a man with thick hands and eyes too tired to notice two extra shadows in his cargo. He muttered to himself when he drove, stopped only when needed, and never checked the back of the cart unless it was to rearrange something. He didn't ask questions.

On liked that.

Two nights ago, in the last port town before crossing into the western borderlands, she had crouched behind a broken crate while Hong fished crusts of bread from the trash. She had overheard two mercenaries talking near the inn.

"Henituse County," one said, wiping ale from his mouth. "Roan Kingdom's little miracle. I heard you could sneak in easy, if you look harmless. Guards don't care about papers as long as you're not stirring up trouble."

The other snorted. "You're gullible to believe that. Rain City has the highest safety record in the central region. You think they got that way by letting strays through the gate?"

On didn't listen to the rest. She had heard enough.

A gamble.

After months of hunger, cold, and silence, a gamble was better than waiting to freeze. Or worse, be caught again.

The merchant's cart rolled on, wheels crunching over gravel. The scent of pine thickened. On's whiskers twitched.

She gently nudged Hong with her nose.

"We're close," she whispered, soft and feline. He stirred, his golden eyes blinking open.

"Are we there?" he asked, voice dry and cracked.

"Almost."

The road curved ahead. Through the gaps in the tarp, she could see the outline of a distant city-a curtain of soft mist curling around stone walls. Lanterns glowed along the outer path, steady and golden.

Henituse County.

They would arrive before sunrise.

On just had to keep Hong quiet and make sure they didn't move until the cart stopped inside. Once they were in, they could shift back, find shelter, and disappear into the crowd.

They would find a way.

She had promised him. So she would.

No matter how much her paws ached, or how heavy her eyes felt, or how loud her guilt clawed every time she stole food from someone else's stores... she would keep her word.

Because they were still alive.

And they were going to stay that way.

Even if it meant hiding in crates and biting down their pride.

Even if it meant trusting a whisper overheard in the dark.

Even if it meant gambling everything.

On closed her eyes and listened to Hong's breathing beside her.

They would survive this.

Just a little farther.

They both heard noises, a clang of armor, that made the two of them tense up.

A guard peeked inside, brows raised at the crates and sacks. On was sure she met the eyes of one of the guards, which made her heart beat so fast.

"Pottery and grain?" the guard asked.

"Barley from Ipsel," the merchant muttered. "For the northern inn and the bakeries."

The man nodded and stepped aside.

On sighed in relief when the guard did not seem to mind their presence. Just a brief checking of the cart and documentation before getting them inside.

They were through, which made On sigh in relief.

They waited until nightfall to slip out.

By now, they were half-starved again. Their stolen food had long since dwindled. Their paws were raw from staying hidden too long in form. But neither transformed. They could not-not yet.

The city was unlike any they had known.

Far from the environment. A place full of gore and violence since their uncle took over.

Instead, they passed between people humming while tending flowerbeds. Children running to bakeries. An old woman scolding a teen for muddy boots.

It did not feel real. It felt like a paradise.

On caught Hong pausing near a fruit stand, eyes locked on a pile of ripe peaches.

"Don't," she warned sharply.

He flinched and pulled back, ears folding.

They slunk past an alleyway and down another lane, finally stopping beside a squat building with a sun-faded sign above the door.

They tried to find a place to stay, trying to find the slums in the city, but there were none. On took another gamble and shakily transformed into her human form.

A few adults immediately saw them looking ragged and lost. So someone immediately approached them.

"Little kid, are you lost? You want me to accompany you? Where are your parents?" The rapid questions made On and Hong curl up in fear.

"These might be children who sneaked inside, Miss. Why don't we send them to the orphanage? They could help with these poor children's needs," the other adult said.

"Don't worry, little kid. We will help you, okay?" With the kind gesture of a few adults, they reached the Hopeful Future Orphanage. The orphanage that Baron Valhali runs with honest intention.

The scent hit her first.

Soup. Fresh sheets. Warm wood and books.

"Kid, just go inside and ask for help. They would welcome you..." The adults were patient as On and Hong refused to go inside.

"Would you like us to accompany you and observe the place first?" the elderly woman asked.

"Th-thank you..." On whispered. The elderly woman smiled as she sat in the chair of the nearby cafe.

Home. But she did not know what that meant anymore.

"Should we go in?" Hong whispered beside her.

On narrowed her eyes. "Not yet."

She watched the building for two hours from the shadows, noting every child that came and went. A woman with a kind face opened the door three times, always smiling. A boy with mismatched socks waved at a passing deliveryman.

Still no signs of guards. No shackles. No collars.

Finally, when the moon dipped low, On turned to her younger brother.

"We'll wait until morning. Then..." she swallowed. Her voice dropped, brittle. "Then maybe we knock."

Hong looked up at her, eyes wide. "Do you think they'll let us stay?"

On did not answer at first.

"I don't know," she whispered.

"They would," the elderly woman said. She really had not left despite it getting dark. Because they felt safe even for night walks.

"Just try it, child. You would lose nothing, and you can just leave if you do not like to stay there." On was grateful to this elderly woman as she patiently accompanied them while observing the orphanage.

Then, almost too softly for even Hong to hear.

"But if they don't... we'll find another place. We always do." The elderly woman only left when the two got inside with the staff.

Early in the morning, when the merchant's carriage rolled past the checkpoint without incident.

No inspections, just a glance and a wave-through.

But high above, perched behind a wind-carved stone tower overlooking the crossing, two figures watched with narrowed eyes.

"Did you see the tail?" one murmured.

"It is silver and red fur of a cat."

"Not native. And definitely not wild."

A silent look passed between them. Neither needed to speak further.

They had seen many things pass through Henituse borders over a year-runaways, spies, petty thieves-but nothing triggered a protocol like a flagged bloodline from the Fog Cat Tribe.

There are some people in the system who have a special protocol. One of them is the Fog Cat Tribe from the Eastern Continent. Partly because this tribe is one of the most dangerous tribes, as they specialize in stealth and assassination. So having the presence of a tribe that had no reason to go all the way to the Western Continent other than killing a target, they immediately flagged it.

The late afternoon sun filtered through the frost-dusted windows of the Henituse County orphanage, casting long golden lines across the wooden floors. The scent of warm soup clung to the air, faint but comforting.

Cale stepped through the door, hands tucked in his coat pockets. His red hair caught the sunlight, making it glow like embers. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes scanned the room with a deliberate calm.

The matron, a middle-aged woman with tired eyes and a soft smile, walked up to him.

"Young Master Cale. This is unexpected," she said, bowing slightly.

"I was told you had two new children arrive last week. A brother and sister," he said, voice even. "Strays with no papers. Had silver and red hair."

The matron stiffened, surprised. But she nodded. "Yes, they haven't spoken much. Shy. Skittish. Unusual colors..."

"Where are they now?"

"In the backroom. Reading by the stove."

Cale didn't respond immediately. He merely walked past her, boots quiet on the wooden floor, until he reached the doorway.

Inside, the room was small and warm, filled with books stacked on low shelves and a pot of stew simmering near the hearth. Two children sat in the far corner on a patched rug. The girl had silver hair braided back and sharp violet eyes that watched everything. The boy, younger, with deep golden eyes and hair like dusk, was curled against her side, half-asleep.

They looked up the moment he entered.

On didn't flinch, but her arms tightened slightly around her brother. Hong blinked slowly, trying to sit up.

Cale studied them quietly.

"You knew I was coming," he said after a moment.

On's ears twitched.

"Someone was watching us for days," she replied. Her voice was low and wary. Not frightened. Just alert.

Cale didn't smile. But something in his expression softened.

"You're from the Eastern Continent."

On's eyes narrowed, but she nodded.

Cale stepped further into the room and crouched a few feet away from them. Close, but not enough to make them feel cornered.

"I won't ask you to tell me your story. Not unless you want to."

On said nothing.

But Hong peeked up from her shoulder. "Are you... here to take us away?"

Cale looked at him, eyes meeting the boy's gaze evenly.

"I'm here to offer you something better than hiding in crates and stealing scraps."

On's shoulders tensed.

"And if we say no?" she asked.

"Then you'll stay here," Cale answered. "Safe. Fed. Watched by people who won't ask questions. That's already been arranged."

"Then why come?"

"Because I know what it means to grow up just to survive," he said simply. "To think the world wants you gone just because you were born different. I also know how to build places where the world can't touch you."

On's breath caught.

"You want something," she said.

"Maybe I do," Cale said, standing slowly. "But not from you. What I want is to make sure no one else gets used and discarded just because they were born into the wrong story."

He turned toward the door.

"I'll return in two days. If you want to leave this place and come with me, I'll make sure you're protected. You'll have food. Warmth. Training, if you want it. And a name that no one will try to erase."

He stopped just at the doorway and looked over his shoulder.

"But if you stay, that's fine too. You'll still be under my protection. I don't save people just to leave them behind."

With that, he walked out.

Two days later, just as the first snow began to fall again, Cale returned.

They were waiting at the gates.

On held Hong's hand tightly, both of them wearing donated coats that didn't quite fit, their eyes fixed ahead.

Cale paused when he saw them. "You've made your choice."

On nodded.

"We don't want to run anymore," she said. "We want to live."

"And protect each other," Hong added quietly.

Cale opened the carriage door without another word.

They climbed in.

There were no grand speeches. No tears. No dramatic promises.

Just silence.

And then, when the wheels began to turn and the orphanage faded behind them, Hong leaned lightly against Cale's side and murmured, "Do you... do you really not mind having us?"

Cale looked out the window.

"I didn't come to mind," he said.

On didn't say anything, but the way she let herself rest for the first time since crossing the sea said more than words ever could.

They didn't know yet, but from that moment on, they were no longer strays.

They were now Henituse.

Chapter Text

Years and years of preparation, the start of the novel's timeline "Birth of a Hero" is finally starting. Alberu and Cale did have a meeting with the core people of the Soo'Ari two weeks before the first attack. Ron, who is the head of overall operation, Freesia, who is the representative and face of the group, Billos, who takes care of the "Skin," and Chief Kanelle, who is the head of the logistics and engineering division.

Beacrox, who is the head of internal security, Hilsman, who is the commander of internal and external territory patrol, and Hans, who is the head of civilian intelligence and liaison.

Choi Han, who is the head of the vanguard of the group, and finally, Alberu, who is one of the external strategists and the highest political patron and backer of their group. And of course, On and Hong, who are now the in-training successors of Ron.

The Soo'Ari becomes a huge group but still stays out of the radar of any powerhouses. They still operate like a merchant guild rather than a group with so much going on at the back door. Still, you could hardly connect businesses under them as each business is always in a different industry.

They slowly penetrate the lives of not just the commoners but nobles too. From food, to jewelry, to everyday necessities.

Then there is a high-end restaurant, tavern, pubs, coffee shop, libraries, and even some training centers.

They also have a portion of the ports. Other merchants wanted to copy them. But a lot of the Soo'Ari's products are made by machines that the Flame Dwarfs created. Thus, mass production is something they can do while others still rely on hands or with some help of magic devices which are very expensive. Thus, they could not really make their prices lower than the Soo'Ari's products as their businesses introduce both highly affordable things for commoners and premium luxury that the nobles are obsessed with.

Alberu and Cale introduced capitalism in this world without any shame and exploited it to the fullest. Just looking at their high customers' retainers, you'll see how much money enters their treasury compared to the money they invest.

It is the reason why they could expand quietly but aggressively. And every investment returns to them tenfold.

It is one of the reasons why they told Choi Han that they once lived as Koreans in the first place.

These core members got the gist of the timeline of what would happen in the future.

The attack in Harris Village was particularly prioritized because of Cale's speculation that White Star might go to the vicinity. Cale remembers that White Star had his mother's other half of the ancient power before he died in his first life.

So he speculated that the time White Star went to the Harris Village is when he took the ancient power that had been buried there.

A week before the attack, the people living in Harris Village were relocated to a new location still in the remote part of Rain City but much closer to the center. With newly built houses and complete help of what they needed. While the residents were a bit confused by this bizarre situation, they accepted it because the offer was greater than what they had.

Cale also planned to use the Harris Village in the future, that is why he relocated those people out. He still does not know what to do, but he felt like he had some use for this place.

Of course, the Soo'Ari temporarily occupied the place for appearances.

The attack on the Blue Wolf Tribe was also flagged as important because of Super Rock's advice. He said that the Blue Wolf Tribe is a tribe that had been abandoned by gods. Those tribes are excellent ingredients as sacrifices and they produce more dead mana than normal people.

They saw the memories of Cale, thus they concluded that the current White Star is imitating the White Star they once fought.

So they have two goals in the Harris Village: one is to observe White Star and the other is to get information from the assassins.

The night of the attack, everyone was tense. Cale, Alberu, and Ron were in the nearby area of the red tree where half of Cale's mother's ancient power was buried. Just like how the red tree blossomed at the tombstone of his mother, the red tree also blossomed here in Harris Village.

Cale never really took the annual rings in the diary. Partly because he could not as he might blow up from having two wood attribute ancient powers, and partly because he was scared that he might hear her voice again.

They were far enough, but there were a few mechanical devices in the area to know what they would be talking about while supposedly taking his mother's ancient power.

It was not the right time for confrontation.

Just a few hours later, they saw someone in an ARM uniform. But this time, the symbol on his uniform was not the usual white star that is surrounded by five red stars, but just a plain red star.

Alberu subconsciously held Cale's hand as they observed four people going near the red tree. He saw White Star. He seemed to look like him. Red hair, reddish brown eyes, and a white mask. He was accompanied by a lion and a bear that they did not know who they were, as they looked a bit weak but strong.

Beads of sweat formed on their foreheads and hands. The instinctive fear kicked in as they saw him. This was the person who killed both of them in the final battle. A person they both thought had become a god because of his overwhelming presence and strong powers. They could not breathe properly.

Ron tried to stabilize the two as they might be panicking. He looked toward the potential leader of ARM with a grim expression.

White Star seemed annoyed and used his fire swords to slice the red tree in frustration.

"WHO DARES TO TAKE MY ANCIENT POWER?" Alberu and Cale flinched but their eyes suddenly became sharp, filled with hatred.

White Star looked like he was throwing a tantrum as he destroyed the place where the ancient power was supposedly buried. The lion and the bear seemingly tried to calm him down. They talked, but they could not hear them clearly, though they would later.

They then teleported with the black mage. They could hear an explosion in Harris Village, which meant the battle had begun. The two sighed in relief and looked at the trees that were currently burning.

Cale used a bit of the Dominating Water to stop it from becoming wild.

"We need to check the Harris Village," Cale said grimly.

The three of them put back on their masks and went back to the Harris Village.

The village was silent. Too silent.

Choi Han's boots hit the edge of the stone well near the center of Harris Village as he scanned the fog-covered streets. A cold wind blew past him, rustling the old wooden signs of shuttered homes. The villagers had been relocated days ago, and the only living souls supposed to be here now were part of Soo'Ari's elite team.

Yet he felt it.

The scent of iron and smoke on the breeze. The heaviness in the air. The sensation that eyes were watching, waiting, slithering just beyond sight.

Everyone was ready to attack, tension rising as they observed the place.

He drew his sword.

A glint of steel flashed across the street and disappeared.

"Formation B," he ordered calmly. Behind him, the vanguard team shifted into motion in silent signals and synchronized steps. These men and women weren't just guards. They were shadows who trained under Soo'Ari's blade program. They understood what was coming.

Choi Han moved ahead.

He passed by the back gate. His heart stirred, but he pressed it down. Now wasn't the time.

A whistle cut the air.

He ducked.

A dagger whirled past his cheek, embedding itself into a wooden post behind him. The blade was coated with something greenish-poison, likely.

And then they emerged.

From rooftops, from behind barrels, from inside chimneys.

Figures cloaked in black, faces hidden, movements sharp and deadly. They didn't speak. No taunts. No demands.

They came to kill.

"Neutralize the target, not slaughter," Choi Han commanded as he moved. His blade met another mid-air. Sparks flew. The enemy was trained-probably elite tier too. Each strike came with intent. These weren't bandits. They weren't mercenaries.

They were assassins.

His sword danced, moving faster than the eye could follow. He ducked under a spear and disarmed the wielder with a sharp twist, then swept the leg and struck a pressure point with the hilt. The man dropped with a muffled gasp.

Three more replaced him.

He moved like water, weaving between the blades. His strikes were precise. Not to kill, but to disable. Ron's training had taught him efficiency. Cale's strategy taught him patience. They learned from each other's specialties.

Then he saw it.

One of the black-clad figures was not attacking. He seemed to be looking for something. This made Choi Han frown.

The ancient power should be where the others were. It was outside the vicinity of the Harris Village. So there might be another thing they wanted to find.

"He's looking for something," Choi Han realized.

Which meant the other assassins were distractions.

He whistled-a sharp two-tone signal-and the archers hidden in the rooftops responded. Arrows rained down-not lethal, but enough to scatter the enemy's coordination.

He moved toward the digger.

The man must have sensed the danger because he stood, brandishing a blade that glimmered with black mana.

Choi Han's eyes narrowed. A black mage? No, it was a warrior infused with cursed mana. Even worse.

Their blades clashed. The cursed mana sizzled against the edge of Choi Han's purified steel.

He stepped in. Fast. Unrelenting.

The assassin was skilled, but not enough.

With a final blow, Choi Han knocked him unconscious, not dead. His breathing was shallow, and blood pooled around a broken rib, but he would live. That was enough.

He turned back to the others. The battle was tilting.

Some assassins had fled into the forest, vanishing like ghosts.

But they had captured six. Two were unconscious. Four were restrained. One of them had a broken jaw.

Choi Han wiped his blade and turned to the others.

"Secure the perimeter. Lock down this site. Call for Umbra (Ron) and Crescent-nim. We're done here."

He glanced once more at the scorched remains of the red tree.

"They were looking for something," he muttered. "And they didn't find it."

He looked toward the east, where the rising sun peeked over the horizon.

Their cloaks fluttered slightly with the breeze, masks concealing the weight in their expressions. Cale, Alberu, and Ron moved with quiet purpose, boots pressing into the ash-covered ground where once the red tree had stood tall and whole.

Cale's gaze immediately fell on the tree's ruined remains.

Charred bark. Split roots. A crater at its base where someone had frantically dug. The surrounding earth was still scorched from the fire, steam rising faintly from patches of disturbed snow and melted frost.

He said nothing at first.

Alberu stood beside him, his hands clenched tight inside his sleeves. Ron, ever silent, swept his eyes across the perimeter, already memorizing the positions of the archers and vanguard members still stationed around the area.

Choi Han approached quickly, his sword at his side but unbloodied. His clothes had ash and a few scuff marks, but he stood tall.

"Report," Cale said.

"They arrived just past midnight. Around twelve, based on the bell tower in the east field. No insignias. All dressed in black. A total of fourteen. Eight retreated when the leader failed to secure the dig site. Six captured."

Cale's eyes flicked to the side. "Alive?"

"Barely. All disabled non-lethally. The one who led the excavation resisted the hardest-cursed mana. He's stable but unconscious."

Alberu raised a brow. "Cursed mana?" His voice was low, almost a growl. "That's not just a throwaway asset."

"Affirmative," Choi Han confirmed. "Whoever sent them wanted results. Not a test run."

Cale walked forward slowly.

He stared at the small crater at the tree's base, his breath visible in the cold air. The red tree had always symbolized something sacred to him. In both lives. It had blossomed where his mother's soul once lingered.

And now... it had been desecrated.

Ron moved closer to inspect the depth of the digging. "They got close."

"But they didn't find it," Cale murmured.

"How can you be sure?" Alberu asked.

Cale glanced up, his green eyes cold behind the mask. "Because if they did, they wouldn't have left it like this. He was angry. White Star."

Alberu stiffened.

"You saw him?" Choi Han's voice was sharp.

Cale nodded. "Him. The lion and bear beside him. Red Star insignia on their clothes. He sliced the tree in fury and shouted something."

Choi Han waited.

"He asked who dared take his ancient power."

A thick silence fell.

Choi Han lowered his head slightly, brows furrowed. "Did you know more information about him, Crescent-nim?"

"Hardly have an information about him. We only frought him in our first life in the final battle..." Cale didn't add that there's no information about him in the 'birth of a hero' too.

Ron turned to Cale. "So what now, Young Master?"

Cale's hand curled into a fist at his side.

"Now, we interrogate the ones we caught. Quietly. No torture. We do it smart. Layered questioning. Isolation cells. We separate them. Let them break themselves apart."

Ron nodded.

Alberu looked at the scattered vanguard soldiers checking buildings and rooftops. "And the site?"

"Preserve it. Cover the damage. Replant if you can. But don't remove any fragments from the crater."

He paused.

"Burn whatever they touched. Salt the soil if you have to."

Choi Han turned to go carry out the orders, but Cale called out quietly.

"Eclipse (Choi Han)." Choi Han suddenly paused.

"You did well. Again."

The faintest smile touched Choi Han's lips. "Not well enough. They still slipped away."

"They didn't get what they came for," Alberu said firmly. "That's a win."

Ron crossed his arms, looking toward the forest where the rest of the assassins had fled. "We'll let them think this was a loss. Let them stew. That's when they start making mistakes."

Cale finally turned back toward the direction of Rain City.

"We're not giving them another chance."

He walked ahead, voice quiet but firm.

"Prepare for their next attack."

Chapter Text

The air shimmered.

In the center of the Soo’Ari conference room, beneath the massive circular skylight that filtered golden sunlight across polished marble and thick maps, mana pulsed like a heartbeat.

They were discussing what to do at the two upcoming attacks. They did not rely too much on the novel or the memories they got in their first life. Because first, some of the information in the novel might already have changed because of their movements in the past.

Second, some of the information they got in their first life was limited. So they all got ready in case the worst happened.

After the discussion, a sudden flicker of gold flared into existence.

“Someone’s teleporting in,” Ron murmured from the wall, already tensing.

“No, wait,” Cale said calmly, raising a hand. “I know that mana.”

The space rippled, then cracked open like glass, shattered light folding in on itself until a portal spiraled outward, and from its depths emerged a tall, elegant figure with golden hair flowing behind him like liquid sunlight.

Eruhaben.

The Ancient Dragon stood with his usual grace, wearing a fine coat embroidered with sky-thread runes, though his sharp eyes were already rolling with exasperation.

“I told you to let me introduce you properly.”

But the figure beside him leapt out before he could finish.

“Human!”

A blur of obsidian and silver lunged across the room. Cale instinctively stepped back as a small, black-scaled dragon pup with shimmering wings and bright sapphire eyes skidded across the table, sending several strategy documents flying in the process.

“I knew it was you! You’re there, your smell is the same!” the dragon declared proudly, puffing up his chest.

Cale blinked. “…What.”

Choi Han chuckled softly. “I thought I sensed dragon mana.”

The little black dragon tilted his head at him. “You too! You were there. You gave off warmth. And her!”

He spun toward Freesia, who stiffened on instinct.

“You smelled like sharp things! I thought you were a sword!”

Freesia slowly blinked at him. “I beg your pardon?”

“I’ve been alive for only a few years, but Goldie Gramps taught me everything,” the dragon said, tail wagging slightly as he leapt down onto the polished floor. “Now I’m ready to see the world! And I wanted to start with you, strange human!”

Cale rubbed his temples. “Why me?”

“You’re interesting. You always had strange aura and smell when I was in the egg,” he said simply. “Also, Goldie Gramps said you’d give me real-world experience. And dragons learn best through adventure!”

Eruhaben sighed as he stepped beside the energetic hatchling. “He is yours now. Congratulations.”

“What?”

“I taught him all I could in theory. But dragons are not meant to grow up locked away in lairs in their first few years. He needs experience, stimulation, real conflict, and you, unfortunately, provide plenty of that.”

Cale scowled. “I’m not a babysitter.”

The black dragon narrowed his eyes. “I’m not a baby! I’m a great and mighty dragon.”

“You’re four years old.”

“Four years old and brilliant.”

Ron coughed lightly, lips twitching.

Alberu, who had just walked in with a folder of foreign reports, paused in the doorway.

“What the?”

“I’m a black dragon. Hello. Your hair is shiny,” the dragon said brightly.

Alberu blinked. “…Thank you?”

Choi Han stepped forward, kneeling slightly. “May I ask your name?”

The dragon blinked. “Oh. I haven’t chosen one yet. I was waiting to see the world first.”

The black dragon huffed so cutely that Cale just stared at him blankly.

“You! Strange human! If you give me a name, I’ll grant you the honor of letting me use the name you give me. Isn’t that great? You’ll name the great and mighty me?”

Then he looked at Cale again with an arrogant look.

Cale groaned. “What did I do to deserve this?”

Eruhaben’s voice was amused as he headed for the tea corner. “If you need help, don’t ask me. I’ll be taking a long vacation now.”

“You’re ditching him with us, aren’t you.”

“I call it delegation.”

The dragon climbed onto the strategy table, curled his tail around a map of the Roan Kingdom’s western territories, and declared grandly, “Hehe, we’ll travel together from now on, humans.”

Silence.

Cale looked at everyone in the room.

Then looked at the dragon.

Then sighed.

“Welcome to Soo’Ari,” he muttered.

The dragon beamed.

The door to Count Deruth’s office creaked open.

Cale stepped in first, hands lazily tucked in his sleeves, followed by Basen, who had a clipboard in hand and a faint ink smudge on his cheek.

“You called for us, Father?” Basen asked, ever polite.

Deruth glanced up from the scrolls on his desk, adjusted his monocle, and smiled. “Yes. Sit down, both of you.”

Cale dropped onto the nearest cushioned chair with the enthusiasm of a man walking to his execution. Basen, ever the proper one, sat straighter.

Deruth cleared his throat. “We received a letter from the capital this morning. A royal summons.”

Cale groaned immediately.

“Cale... It’s not that kind of summons. The King is celebrating his 50th birthday in a few weeks. The Crown is inviting all major noble houses to attend the celebration. Naturally, the Henituse family was included.” Deruth said with a chuckle

Basen brightened. “Ah. A formal event.”

Cale narrowed his eyes. “A royal formal event. Sounds even worse, this should be Basen's work right?”

“I would normally send Basen, as he is the heir.” Deruth gave Basen a nod. “But he informed me that he has a rather important agricultural council meeting lined up that week. It’s a three-day seminar on hybrid wheat strains, isn’t it?”

Basen nodded, pushing up his glasses. “Yes, Father. I’m presenting the results of the crop rotation trials. It’s too late to reschedule without affecting the spring cultivation plans.”

“Right.” Deruth looked at Cale. “So that means you’ll attend in his place.”

Cale stared.

“What.”

“You’ll represent our household.”

“No, I definitely heard you. I just didn’t expect to be volunteered.”

“You're the eldest son,” Deruth said with a calm shrug.

“I’m the unofficial spare.”

“still my son and you're still a noble.”

“Regrettably.”

Deruth smiled patiently. “Cale.”

Cale sighed, tipping his head back dramatically toward the ceiling. “Do I at least get to drink there?”

“There will be wine. And speeches.”

Basen helpfully added, “And probably hours of standing.”

Cale grunted. “So, basically torture in a fancy suit.”

“It’s just for a few days,” Deruth said. “You’ll be fine. Take Ron with you. Maybe Beacrox.”

Cale gave him a blank stare. “You’re sending me into the heart of the capital full of nosey nobles, suspicious crown officials, and scheming heirs to other houses. And your only advice is ‘Take Ron.’”

Deruth offered a completely unbothered smile. “Ron is effective.”

Basen looked over, clearly trying to hide a grin. “You’ll be fine, hyung. Just don’t start any political wars.”

“No promises,” Cale muttered. “I might ‘accidentally’ insult a duke.”

Deruth ignored that. “The invitation also includes the right to bring a small retinue. I suggest choosing carefully. And maybe not dressing like you just rolled out of a tree.”

“I like this coat,” Cale grumbled, tugging at the hem of his slightly wrinkled outer robe.

Basen sighed and reached out with a handkerchief to wipe the ink smudge from Cale’s own cheek. “You’re the one rolling out of trees again, not me.”

“I was resting.”

“In weeds.”

Cale frown (pouted) as he is resting under the shade of tree again.

Deruth chuckled again and set the scroll down. “You leave in ten days. The carriage and paperwork will be arranged. Try to look presentable.”

Cale slouched further in his chair. “You just want me to suffer.”

Deruth gave him a fond look. “That’s a father’s right.”

Cale grunted, defeated.

Basen gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “You'll be fine, Hyung! You did well when you were 8 and I learned a lot from you.”

“Great,” Cale muttered. “Can’t wait to socialize.”

Deruth simply poured himself tea and said with a smile, “Think of it as... Occasional socializing.”

Cale groaned again.

Basen gathered his papers and stood, he gave Cale a small, knowing look. “Don’t burn anything while I’m gone.”

Cale waved him off lazily. “No promises.”

With a polite bow to their father, Basen exited the office, closing the door softly behind him.

Deruth looked up from his desk as silence settled over the room, expecting Cale to stand as well. But his eldest son remained seated, arms crossed, gaze steady.

“You’re not leaving?” Deruth asked, curious.

“No,” Cale said simply.

Deruth raised a brow.

Cale reached into the inner pocket of his coat and produced a thick folder, its seal broken but still crisp. He placed it on Deruth’s desk with a deliberate motion.

“You should upgrade all security protocols in the territory. Borders. Guards. Merchant checkpoints. Even the manor, my lord.”

Deruth blinked and tense up. “That’s quite a sudden shift in tone. Why?”

Cale opened the folder.

Inside were reports, charts, photos, and documents—some of them stamped with markings Deruth didn’t immediately recognize, but all of them detailed, clean, and organized. The Count leaned forward, pulling a few pages toward him. His eyes scanned swiftly.

“The Northern Alliance of the three northern kingdom,” Cale said calmly. “The ones behind the Wyvern Brigade. There’s also growing unrest along the borders of the Empire. You’ll also want to pay special attention to Whipper Kingdom.”

Deruth’s eyes narrowed as he read, his fingers tightening slightly on the parchment.

“a civil war?” he muttered, recognizing the crest on one of the attached images. “And this…”

He stopped at the photo of a wyvern perched atop a rocky ridge, its rider masked but clearly uniformed.

Cale nodded. “The peace won't last. I’m not sure if it’ll break in a few years or a few months, but it will break.”

Deruth looked up sharply. “Where did you get this?”

“I have my sources.”

Deruth exhaled slowly, sitting back in his chair. His expression shifted—no longer the calm, easygoing noble, but the sharp-eyed head of the Henituse household.

“The Crown doesn’t know this yet, do they?”

“Not all of it,” Cale said. “I’ll be presenting this to the Crown Prince during the royal celebration. I’m not attending to exchange pleasantries.”

Deruth stared at him.

“You’ve been preparing.” Deruth massage his temple. He knew Cale was always brilliant. But this? This is another level.

“I always prepare.”

A silence passed.

Finally, Deruth gave a low hum, eyes now focused and serious. “How much time do we have?”

“I can’t say. But if we wait until there’s smoke, it’ll already be too late.”

Deruth nodded once. “I’ll begin adjustments immediately. Quietly.”

Cale stood and gave him a small, approving nod.

“I’ll keep you updated. Just be ready.”

As Cale turned to leave, Deruth’s voice stopped him.

“…You’ve grown, Cale.”

Cale paused at the door, glancing back.

“Don’t get sentimental now,” he muttered, then slipped out.

Deruth smiled faintly at the closed door before returning to the reports—his expression now completely focused. Deruth sighs. It seems like his eldest still can't forgive him fully.

Cale stepped out of his office, his head pounding slightly from the long meeting. He barely had time to take a breath when two small figures darted toward him from the hallway.

“Papa!” He looked down just in time for On to halt with a respectful bow while Hong crashed into his side, arms flung around his waist.

Cale blinked. “...I told you not to call me that in the manor halls.”

“But the servants already know,” On said with a tilt of her head, silver ears twitching. “They call us young miss and young masters anyway.”

“We’re your kids,” Hong added proudly, still clinging to his coat.

Cale sighed but raised a hand to gently pat Hong’s hair, then On’s. “Did you finish your lessons with Ron?”

On nodded immediately. “We finished early today. Hong didn’t miss any marks on his tracking drills.”

“I’m getting better!” Hong beamed.

Before Cale could reply, he felt a sudden shift in the air behind him. A light pressure pressed against his back.

“I was here too,” came a smug voice—young, haughty, and clearly pleased with itself.

Cale turned slightly to the side. “I know you’re there.”

The invisible black dragon let out a pleased hum. “Of course you do. You’re not as slow as other humans.”

“Your tail brushed my coat.”

“That’s because I wanted to be acknowledged,” the dragon said cheerfully, still unseen.

On and Hong exchanged glances with a small smile.

“You’re really not naming him yet?” On asked.

Cale stared ahead. “No.”

“He said he’ll name himself if you won’t,” Hong whispered.

The dragon scoffed. “But it’s more meaningful if my first name comes from the one I recognize as interesting.”

Cale looked at the hallway ceiling for patience. “Let’s go. Lunch is waiting.”

With Hong holding one hand and On walking beside him, the three walked down the corridor.

Somewhere above, unseen but very much present, a proud black dragon floated, invisible wings lightly brushing the air.

In the Henituse manor, this was now a normal day.

Chapter Text

The wind at the base of Ten Finger Mountain carried the scent of frost and pine, even as summer clung to the lowlands. Choi Han adjusted the hood of his travel cloak and took in the terrain ahead. His sword rested on his back, bound in worn leather wraps that disguised its edge. Beside him, the mercenary group trudged forward with steady, if uninspired, footsteps.

They were a simple group — gruff but not cruel. No formal formation. No real discipline. But they were honest workers. Hired to escort a merchant caravan bound for the outskirts of the Blue Wolf Tribe’s territory.

Choi Han had joined them under the guise of needing coin and travel. In truth, he had a different reason.

It was rare to find merchants who traded with the Blue Wolf Tribe, as this tribe was known to be elusive.

But these merchants had a long-standing deal with a splinter faction of the tribe. According to Soo’Ari’s intelligence, these merchants had a bit of connection to some underground groups, and their leader was connected to Billos.

Thus, he was tasked to act according to his instinct, and Choi Han decided to be a bit friendly.

He joined seamlessly into the group. As they introduced themselves to each other, he had not expected to find someone else.

She introduced herself as "Lyn." A brown-haired mage with a quiet confidence and warm smile, she had joined the mercenary group on a whim — or so she claimed.

Choi Han recognized the way she moved, the way she glanced at the stars when she thought no one was watching, the way her magic hummed like restrained lightning. She was one of the people Cale had marked as important when they extracted information in the Breck Kingdom.

She was no ordinary traveler.

They spoke little at first. But over the campfires and long days on the trail, a rhythm settled between them. She did not ask questions she shouldn't, and he did not pry beyond her name.

But when they fought off a sudden bandit ambush near the edge of a ravine, her magic burst forth like a tidal wave of fire and compressed air. It was controlled, sharp, and lethal.

Choi Han smiled slightly afterward.

“I thought you said you were just a passing mage,” he said quietly.

Rosalyn, still disguised as Lyn, smiled back. “And I thought you were just a highest-grade swordsman?”

They didn’t press further.

Not until they reached the forest perimeter bordering the Blue Wolf lands.

The merchant was growing nervous. There was no sign of the usual scouts who would greet their arrival. The trail was untouched, the markers undisturbed.

Choi Han felt it first — the tremble in the air, the faint scream carried by the wind.

Rosalyn's expression hardened.

“We’re too late,” she murmured.

“No,” Choi Han said, eyes narrowing. “We’re early.”

Smoke rose in the distance.

Without another word, they abandoned the caravan and dashed through the trees. The merchant and mercenaries remained behind, unwilling and untrained to face whatever waited ahead.

They burst through the treeline

And into a massacre.

The village of the Blue Wolf Tribe was burning.

Scattered bodies lay crumpled in the open, fur matted with blood. The air was choked with magic — raw, volatile, twisted. Choi Han saw him first.

Redika.

The mad fire mage stood in the middle of a blackened clearing, laughing as he lobbed spheres of compressed flame toward a group of injured Blue Wolf warriors. He was part of ARM and probably held a high position.

Behind him, a dozen mages stood in a loose ring formation, casting barrier spells and sealing circles. Dark magic. Not standard formation. Experimental.

They were trying to extract something from the dead bodies.

Rosalyn’s face turned pale. “They’re using divine items. This tribe will not be able to fight against them. If they succeed—”

Choi Han vanished from her side.

He crashed into the closest mage with a single swing, cutting through their barrier like cloth.

“Don’t let them finish!” he called.

Rosalyn raised her staff, eyes blazing. The sky lit up with a lance of thunder that struck one of the sigils mid-cast. The circle shattered.

Redika turned, his face twisting with glee. “Oh? Company!”

He threw a barrage of flame straight at Choi Han.

But Choi Han was already moving.

He ducked low, blade whistling as it deflected the fire sideways. The ground hissed where the magic struck.

Rosalyn formed a barrier just in time to block another bolt.

“I’ll handle that divine item!” she shouted.

Choi Han nodded and charged toward Redika.

The battle blurred. He clashed with mages left and right. Some were clearly low-level, collapsing after a single blow. Others lasted longer, enhanced by Dead Mana. There were both mages, assassins, and black mages in this group. But Choi Han did not falter.

Behind him, Rosalyn moved like a tempest — runes flaring in the air, fire and wind dancing at her fingertips. Her spells were controlled destruction. A dome shattered because of her devastating power.

But Redika — Redika laughed louder.

“You’re ruining everything! How dare you! Do you know what this place holds?” he screamed.

Choi Han did not answer.

He drove his blade into the ground and drew on his aura. The air shivered. His foot launched him toward Redika with a burst of speed.

The mad mage’s grin faltered.

The clash sent a shockwave through the clearing.

Redika stumbled back, bleeding from his side. “Sword Master...”

Choi Han said nothing. His eyes burned with cold fury.

Behind him, Rosalyn landed with a thud beside a battered young Blue Wolf scout. She stabilized him with a quick healing spell, then raised her head.

“The others are getting weaker because of that divine item. Most of the tribe's warriors are powerless.”

Choi Han’s blade hovered inches from Redika’s throat.

“Retreat,” Redika hissed, clutching his wounds. His subordinates began teleporting out one by one.

He vanished in a flash of flame and smoke, leaving only scorched earth behind.

Silence fell.

Choi Han turned to Rosalyn. “We saved them.”

She nodded, exhausted. “But they were never supposed to be the sacrifice.”

He looked toward the burning remains of the village.

“There is still a large portion of the Blue Wolf Tribe that died.” Choi Han's hatred toward ARM intensified.

And somewhere far away, the true plan moved forward.

The flames finally began to die out.

Only ash remained of what used to be homes. The air hung heavy with blood and mana, the cries of the injured buried beneath the crackling of burnt wood. Choi Han stood amid the charred remains of the Blue Wolf Tribe’s settlement, his sword dripping blackened blood and soot.

Rosalyn approached, her cloak singed at the edges and her cheeks streaked with dirt. She had cast her final barrier spell minutes ago, protecting the last cluster of injured survivors while Choi Han drove the last of the enemy mages into retreat.

“Too many dead,” she muttered, surveying the remains.

Choi Han knelt beside the crumpled form of a warrior who had once stood at the front gate. His blue-grey fur was matted with blood, but his hand still clutched the broken spear he had fought with.

Rosalyn crouched next to him, eyes grave. “They didn’t come for conquest.”

Choi Han slowly nodded. “It was a collection.”

Rosalyn looked at him.

“Dead mana,” he said grimly. “That much death… the ritual circles… they weren’t just random killings.”

She closed her eyes, lips tightening. “And the children.”

Choi Han's jaw clenched. “We only found fourteen hiding beneath the food store.”

Rosalyn’s voice was hoarse. “The chief’s son is missing. And two more from the healer’s family.”

A gust of cold wind swept past them, carrying the acrid scent of burnt fur and corrupted mana.

“The Blue Wolf Tribe…” Rosalyn whispered, “They were once blessed by the God, weren’t they?”

Choi Han nodded slowly. “Until the divine mark was revoked. The ancestors broke a covenant. The God abandoned them.”

She swallowed. “That’s why the mages took the children? Do you know what they want?”

He stood, and she followed.

"Those people would use them as sacrifice." His gaze swept over the corpses, then toward the faint trails leading out into the northern woods.

“Children born under a cursed bloodline,” he said. “No divine oversight. Their souls are unprotected. Prime material for sacrificial magic for summoning something sinister.”

“And dead mana conversion.” Rosalyn’s voice shook. “It’s cruel.”

“It’s that crazy blood mage Redika.”

They stared at the desecrated village in silence for a moment longer.

“Should we pursue them?” Rosalyn finally asked, fingers tightening around her staff.

Choi Han exhaled through his nose. “No. Not yet. We need to report this.”

Rosalyn’s brows furrowed. “To who?”

"To the crown," Rosalyn widened her eyes as she looked at him.

"Yo-you know anyone from the Roan's royalty?" Choi Han nodded.

"I serve as one of the high-ranking agents to the organization behind the crown prince." Choi Han was ordered to be truthful to Rosalyn but just answer her question and not add any extra explanation.

“This wasn’t random. Redika targeted this tribe for a reason. Dead mana, sacrifice, and... a site like this could be used to awaken something worse.” Rosalyn looked worried as she looked at Choi Han.

“And if they’re experimenting on divine abandonment…” Rosalyn trailed off, horrified.

Choi Han glanced back at the children huddled beneath the makeshift shelter the mercenaries had thrown together. One boy had cried himself to sleep, clutching a charm necklace carved from bone.

“We’ll bury the dead,” Choi Han said softly, voice firming. “Protect the living. Then we move.”

Rosalyn inhaled shakily and nodded. “I’ll start the perimeter spells. Just in case they left a marker.”

As she walked off, Choi Han turned toward the blackened center of the village—the ritual site where the soul circle had cracked under his sword.

He could still hear Redika’s laughter.

“I’ll find you,” he murmured. “And I’ll make sure none of them scream again.”

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

"Get ready human! I'll teleport everyone to the coordinates you give me. This is just easy," the black dragon said with his usual cute expression that he thought looked arrogant and majestic.

It did not even take a while when a brilliant ripple of black light tore through the air with a hum that made nearby birds scatter into the sky.

In the next breath, space folded upon itself, and with a low pop, ten carriages, over thirty knights on horseback, and a pair of covered supply wagons materialized on the cobbled royal road that led directly toward the Capital’s southern gate.

"...What the—?!"

One of the knights at the front clutched his reins in panic as his horse neighed and stumbled back in shock.

"S-sir! Did we just teleport?!"

Cale Henituse adjusted the cuffs of his sleeve with practiced calm, seated inside the lead carriage that bore the Henituse crest. He looked out the window at the flustered expressions of his knights, then spoke with a mild tone. He was stroking the fur of Hong as he lazily replied.

"Relax. We’re closer now. Just continue the journey as planned."

"But, Young Master—"

"Continue. I made someone teleport us to reduce the time of travel."

His voice was firm but not sharp. It was enough. The knight realized that this was their young master, who had done so many impossible feats. So he looked at him with reverence and awe.

"As expected of Young Master. It seems like Young Master has an archmage as one of his subordinates," the knight thought, and Cale suddenly shivered as he frowned.

"I felt like someone is cursing me?" He just ignored it.

"He is really an unlucky bastard, just like what that ancient dragon often calls him. Bwahahaha."

"Those tarts seem delicious, Cale. They might improve your mood."

He also ignored his ancient powers.

The knight saluted and turned back toward the rest of the convoy. The carriages began to roll forward again, the clatter of hooves echoing down the mostly empty royal road.

A few travelers on foot gawked openly from a distance, whispering as the crest of House Henituse glinted in the morning light.

They had just become the first noble house from outside the Capital to arrive for the King’s upcoming birthday celebration.

Cale leaned back with a sigh.

"I should’ve brought something to help with the noble nonsense."

"Like a barrier?" came a cheeky voice of the black dragon.

Cale turned his head toward the corner of the carriage.

On one side, Hong was curled up like a cat in his half-shifted form, clutching a dried peach snack. They were now in their human form.

On the other, On, ever-watchful and composed, held a handkerchief and calmly dabbed at her brother’s smudged cheek.

And smack in the middle, sitting proudly on the cushioned bench like he owned the continent, was the small black dragon.

"Human, when are you giving me a name?" the dragon asked, tail flicking.

Cale raised a brow. "You’re still thinking about that?"

"I have waited for four years and one week for you to name me," he huffed. "It is a moment of great importance."

"We just met again a few days ago." The black dragon grabbed his shoulder and poked his cheek.

"Come on! This great and mighty me gives you the honor of naming me!"

On and Hong both looked up, ears twitching slightly in curiosity.

Cale sighed and reached into his inner coat pocket, pulling out a folded note.

He handed it to the dragon.

The black dragon blinked. Then carefully unfolded the parchment with his claws. His eyes scanned the words. Then again. Then a third time.

"'Raon Miru'?" he read aloud.

Cale nodded and smiled. "It’s from a language that is not known in this world. I came up with this name because it really suits you."

Silence.

"R-really? Wh-what does that mean?" Cale could not see the black dragon, but he still smiled.

"It means you..." Despite being invisible, Cale could feel Raon's presence as he hugged him from behind.

Hong blinked. "That’s so cool…"

On nodded approvingly. "It suits you."

The little dragon—Raon—froze. His blue eyes were wide. His wings twitched slightly. Then—

"Raon Miru... Raon Miru!! RAON MIRU!!" he shouted, practically bouncing on the seat. "That’s me!! That’s my name!! The great and mighty Raon Miru!!"

He launched into the air, spinning midair inside the cramped carriage, accidentally knocking over Hong.

"Human!! This is a glorious name!! I shall protect it with all my might!"

Cale calmly caught the squirming dragon mid-air before he could shatter the lantern on the carriage wall.

"Don’t break anything."

Raon clung to Cale’s arm, tail swaying.

"I won’t! It is your honor because I’ll be using this name from now on! Raon Miru!" Raon huffed as he looked at Cale.

Cale patted his head lightly.

On smiled faintly and pulled Hong upright again as he munched another peach snack.

Outside, the knights straightened their armor, the horses trotted with purpose, and the convoy began to turn heads as they neared the Capital gates.

Inside the carriage, the black dragon’s laughter filled the air as he chanted his new name with pride, nestled between two cat-tribe children who now called this place home.

And Cale… allowed a very small, quiet smile.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Chapter Text

The Capital’s largest marketplace was already alive with noise by the time Cale stepped through the stone archway that opened into a wide plaza of colorful tents, merchant stalls, glass-paned boutiques, and food carts steaming with fresh pastries.

He wore a simple, elegant coat and gloves that spoke of quiet nobility, enough to command respect but not enough to draw immediate stares. Beside him, Ohn walked gracefully, eyes calm and alert. Hong bounced at his other side, human-form fingers wrapped around a fruit skewer already half-eaten.

Ohn had never seen this kind of scene where everyone looked peaceful and solemn. Hong was the same. They looked left and right, asking Cale what the things they did not know were.

Cale was happy deep inside to see the three acting like how children should be. Cale was in a good mood that he did not mind being pulled by the three to who knew where.

They had the day off. And Cale, after stacking a week’s worth of political and strategic meetings, had finally granted himself a break. For once.

He was with Hilsman and Hans at the moment, tailing the four of them.

"You two," he said without preamble, hands in his pockets, "pick anything you like today."

Hong’s eyes widened. "Really?!"

"Within reason," Ohn added, already narrowing her eyes at her younger brother’s twitching ears.

Cale shrugged. "Even unreasonable is fine. Just not dangerous."

Hong pumped his fist. "We’re gonna buy the whole street!"

Ohn did not smile outwardly. Her cat ears even appeared and twitched once in pleased agreement.

They started with clothes.

A boutique draped in silks and gentle instrumental music welcomed them in. The shopkeeper nearly fainted upon recognizing Cale Henituse, but composed herself admirably. After all, Cale was the darling of the Rain City, even if he did not know.

Cale let Ohn and Hong choose, but he occasionally nodded toward a coat or scarf that caught his eye. Soon, Ohn was fitted in a long cream coat with silver linings and warm inner fur, and Hong picked out a dark navy tunic with hidden pockets and paw-print stitching.

Then came books.

The large bookshop smelled like parchment and dust. Ohn gravitated toward a section of strategy games and magic theory, while Hong darted straight to the illustrated stories and creature encyclopedias.

Cale watched them browse in silence, then added a few titles to their growing stack, one about world geography, another about the constellations, and a small journal for Ohn.

When Hong was not looking, he also bought a picture book about baby dragons.

Next stop was puzzles and toys.

"Papa, can we get this?" Hong held up a wooden contraption with rotating gears and magical etched runes. "It looks like a treasure trap!"

Cale tilted his head. "As long as it won’t explode."

"No, sir!" the merchant stammered. "It’s just an illusion box. The child has to solve it to reveal a hidden picture."

"...Buy two."

Ohn picked a 3D mechanical puzzle made of interlocking rings. It looked simple. It was not.

At this moment, Cale felt a bit fatigued and wanted to go back to the manor and take a rest. But once he looked at the energetic and smiling faces of the two, he decided to accompany them.

"Why don't we take a snack first?" Cale was now sweating and chasing his breath. The three looked at Cale with amused faces.

"Meat! Meat! Meat!" the duo suddenly chanted.

They paused briefly for lunch, meat skewers, fruit slush, and cream buns eaten on a shaded bench by the fountain. Hong ended up with frosting on his nose, which Cale wiped with a tissue, mumbling about "bad habits."

"I want to buy something for Raon too. I'm sure he'll like to experiment with some magic tools," Cale said after sipping his tea.

So they headed to a magic tool workshop.

It was a cozy little place run by a pair of dwarf siblings. They were not part of the Flame Dwarf Tribe, but they were still dwarves. Cale explained what Raon liked, flying, reading, shiny things, and the dwarves enthusiastically offered several items.

He purchased so much that Hilsman and Hans called a few guards to carry the things. Cale did so without batting an eye at the prices.

As long as it was good and the children wanted it, he would buy it.

A floating light orb that would follow Raon around like a firefly.

A temperature-regulating bed stone that warmed up or cooled down to comfort the user.

A compact bookshelf that magically resized depending on how many books it held.

The dragon was spoiled. Cale did not regret it. The two were still energetic after hours and hours of walking.

The merchants caught wind of Cale's unrestrained spending. That he bought anything the children liked made a wave, and they tried to lure and entice the children to their store. Cale did not mind and just continued buying anything.

They wandered more.

He picked up something for others.

A set of rare ink, pen, and parchment for Basen, along with a handcrafted leather journal embossed with the Henituse crest using a magic tool.

A pretty silver brooch shaped like a feather and a new storybook for Lily, a tale of a princess knight who saved a mountain village, and a sword that Cale personally picked after comparing it to multiple stores.

A rare vintage sword maintenance oil and a quiet rain chime that matched Choi Han’s quiet nature.

An elegant tea tin and a high-quality hair comb carved from black jade for Ron.

A steel sharpening block for Beacrox, engraved with flames and his initials.

And finally, a beautifully stitched handkerchief embroidered with tiny crowns and a tiger for Alberu, hidden in a box with a note: For when politics gives you a headache. And you can't throw your crown. He personally asked for that handkerchief from one of the stores under the Soo’Ari.

"Are you done, Papa?" Ohn asked as Cale sat down on a shaded bench again, massaging his temple.

"I bought half the market," Cale muttered. "How do I always end up doing this."

"You like giving people things," Hong said through a mouthful of candied fruit.

"No, I don’t."

"Yes, you do," Ohn replied calmly.

Cale sighed and looked up at the bright sky, tired but satisfied. A quiet moment passed. Then—

POP!

A small black dragon materialized in the air, blinking at them.

"Human! Where were you?!" Raon seemed anxious as he looked at him. Cale could feel Raon's gaze, but he was still invisible.

Cale blinked. "...Shopping."

Raon Miru sniffed. "Did you bring me anything? Why didn't you let me come?"

"You seemed tired after teleporting a large group of people that you fell asleep. So I let you continue your sleep. Don't worry, I brought you several things."

Raon’s tail swished, then he spotted the gift bag clutched in Ohn’s hands.

"Wait! What is that! Is that for me?! Did you really shop for me? Human, you’re the best human! I’ll protect you forever!"

"You already said that yesterday."

"I’ll say it again!"

He dove into the bag, pulling out the floating orb, which promptly began glowing and drifting around him like a firefly.

Raon grinned. "I love it!"

Ohn and Hong sat beside Cale as Raon played with the light.

They were full. They were warm. They had bags upon bags of thoughtful gifts.

And for once, nothing was trying to kill them.

Cale leaned back on the bench with a small, tired smile, surrounded by his strange, growing family.

"Maybe," he muttered to no one, "today was a good day."

They continued to shop together. Some of the guards even went in and out of the manor as the things that Cale bought kept piling up. Cale decided to fill the Super Rock Villa with some necessities and entertainment too. That was why he bought a lot of things.

They occasionally rested on benches while eating street food. Of course, the guards also got their share.

Cale was halfway through a quiet stretch of cobbled road just beyond the bustling plaza when Raon suddenly froze in mid-air, wings flapping hard.

"Human! Danger! No, wait. I smell something familiar. I smell that smell on you, but it's faint. But it was stronger on one of them!"

Cale was aware that he had a faint smell of Death. Because in some ways, the God of Death was connected to him. So that meant the possibility that it was Cage was high.

Cale’s brow rose. "...Cage and Young Marquis Taylor?"

Raon spun in the air. "I think? They’re over there!"

Just then, a familiar loud voice rang out.

"Young Master Cale! Is that you?!"

Cale turned to see a woman in loose traveling clothes and clerical beads jogging toward him with one hand waving wildly. Beside her, a man in a dark coat moved more steadily, cane in one hand, but his smile was unmistakable.

"Cage. Young Marquis Taylor."

"Fancy seeing you here," Cage grinned as she reached him. "We just arrived in the capital an hour ago."

"I heard there would be food," Taylor added dryly.

"We were literally heading to eat," Hong said brightly.

"Papa promised us a full lunch after buying the whole market!"

"I did not buy the whole market," Cale muttered.

"He kind of did," Ohn said, expressionless.

Taylor chuckled. "That’s just like you."

Cage threw her arms over both Cale’s and Taylor’s shoulders. "Well then, we’re joining you. I am starving."

Raon floated in front of Taylor. "You! Human with a broken leg who’s not useless anymore! I remember you! You're in that picture!"

Taylor blinked. "...Thank you?" He looked around and did not see anyone, which confused him. Cale sneakily pointed to where Raon was.

"It's a dragon. I could feel it," Cage whispered. Taylor was shocked, and Cale sighed.

"Raon, next time please don't let others see or feel you immediately until I say so. It's too dangerous. Okay?"

"But I’m a dragon, and we're strong." Cale could hear Raon huffing, which made Cale chuckle.

"I know. Raon is great and mighty, but you still need to be cautious. Remember, never underestimate anyone, especially your enemies, as it could lead to a fatal situation you would not expect. Okay?"

Raon huffed again but agreed.

"Sorry about that, but that’s high praise coming from Raon," Cale said as he pushed open the door of a cozy restaurant.

The warm scent of roasted meat and herbs wafted out, and the host nearly tripped over himself when he realized a Count’s son, a priest of the God of Death, and a Marquis were now requesting a private room.

They settled into a rounded corner booth padded with velvet. Ohn and Hong took seats beside Cale, while Cage immediately ordered a massive meat platter for the table.

"We were just heading to check in with our local temple contact," Taylor explained. "But Cage insisted she’d faint without food first."

"You try walking all morning with no breakfast!" Cage huffed, sipping on something fruity. "Besides, I had a feeling we’d bump into someone familiar. My instincts were right!"

"You’re lucky," Cale replied dryly, watching Raon try to use his magic to float a bowl of soup. The good thing was that they were in a private room, so Cale let Raon be visible.

"No magic at the table," Ohn reminded.

Raon deflated and sulked, until the food arrived.

There was laughter.

Cage teased Cale about how soft he had become, watching him tuck extra napkins into Hong’s lap. Taylor quietly handed Ohn a small book of regional philosophies he had picked up earlier, and she gave him a rare genuine smile.

Raon declared the roasted potatoes "worthy of a dragon’s hoard."

They shared stories of their travels, how Taylor had gained a bit more mobility with his new brace, and how Cage had successfully made two noble heirs cry during a theological debate.

"Felt great," she said cheerfully, sipping her third cup of tea.

Cale just shook his head and smiled.

When they finished the meal, the sun was just beginning to dip lower, casting soft gold through the windows.

Hong leaned sleepily against Cale’s side. Ohn was skimming the book Taylor gave her. Raon was curled on the backrest of the booth like a cat, his tail twitching with contentment.

And Cage said, almost too softly for anyone but Cale and Taylor to hear:

"You’ve built something nice, Cale. This… family of yours."

Cale did not reply.

But his hand gently rested on Hong’s head, and he did not move it.

Chapter Text

In a private room of one of Cale's restaurants under the property of Soo'Ari, a cozy scene was unfolding. The food was warm. The mood was easy. Everything was casual, like this was just an ordinary gathering.

But for many of the staff, who did not know that Cale was "Crescent," the leader of their group, this was a highly tense situation.

It was because of the people’s identities inside.

Cale was the darling of Rain City, known for his intellect even at a young age. He had taken over the County at age eight and turned this unassuming territory into one of the tourist destinations of the Roan Kingdom. It was also known for being crime-free and for its extensive system that allowed the people to feel safe.

If a crime was committed, it would not take long for the local knights to apprehend the suspect. The security system of Rain City was both simple and intricate, one that other nobles had tried to replicate but could not. It had only been a year and two months into his reign, but many things had already changed, and everyone was happy in that territory.

Then there was Marquis Taylor Stan, the youngest titleholder who had risen to fame after his legs healed for an unknown reason. The once gentle and pushover eldest son of the former Marquis had become the embodiment of their emblem—a snake that bites with venom at the right time—and overthrew the previous traditions of their family.

He had revolutionized their family, and his territory had also undergone a drastic reform. While it was not as exaggerated as Rain City, Velstan, the Stan territory, had also seen a booming economy now that corruption was almost impossible to occur. Their territory adhered to transparency.

Marquis Taylor Stan, at age nineteen, had proven his leadership, and all his citizens were content and satisfied with his reign.

Then there was Cage, one of the most popular priestesses of the God of Death, known for being free-spirited and someone who abided by the rules she set for herself and not the church she served. She was infamous for speaking bluntly and for her curses, which struck fear into many people—especially during the early months of Taylor's reign.

Assassins had been sent to Taylor multiple times in an attempt to swallow the Northwest Territory, only to be left speechless after their subordinates returned insane and refused to speak of what had happened, other than saying they had been cursed.

They were both pillars and supporters of the Crown Prince, whom others had once thought foolish like the Gyerre family, only to be proven right when the Crown Prince continued to rise in power.

Hong was humming while munching on steamed dumplings, On was quietly skimming through Taylor’s book, and Raon had just polished off his third bowl of roasted chestnuts and was now dozing like a curled-up cat on the windowsill.

Meanwhile, the grown-ups had moved on from food to politics over post-lunch tea.

"So," Cage leaned back with a grin, resting her arms on the chair’s edges. "How are things at the top of the food chain these days? Rumors say the royal court’s heating up more than usual."

Cale exhaled slowly. "That’s putting it lightly."

Taylor nodded, swirling his tea with slow, thoughtful circles. "Well, as we know, the balance between the three princes has gotten more complicated since last winter. The First Prince gained the capital’s main aristocratic bloc. The Second Prince tightened ties with the Northern military branches. And now..."

"High Royal Highness," Cage added, tilting her head, "has the West. All of it."

"Northwest and Southwest," Taylor confirmed, eyes thoughtful. "After the Duchess of Gyerre passed on most of her titles to her eldest grandson, Antonio, the Southwest started pulling toward His Royal Highness's camp with surprising speed. And of course, the Northwest..."

He gestured to himself with a faint smile.

Cale raised a brow. "You make a good lord, Taylor."

The young man chuckled. "I try."

"More than that," Cage said. "The people trust you. That’s what’s rare."

"But it’s His Highness who’s taking real advantage of the momentum," Taylor noted. "He’s not just forming alliances. He’s building things. Infrastructure, food stability programs, civil education."

Cage stretched with a groan. "You have no idea how annoying it is to keep hearing the priests at the capital cathedral go, ‘Did you see the public library the Crown Prince funded?’ or ‘The roads in the west are so clean!’ I love the guy, but let me tell you, the man’s PR is flawless." There was a mischievous smile on Cage's face, even if she uttered such teasing.

Cale allowed himself a small smirk. "That’s intentional."

He was pleased with the work of Soo'Ari, who was behind the influx of positive comments about the Crown Prince.

Taylor looked at him. "I figured as much. The timing of every project feels too... precise. Always launched just after another faction tries something flashy."

Cale lazily swirled his tea. "They’re not just counterplays. They’re reminders. His Highness doesn’t need to make noise. He just shows the results."

"That’s what makes the nobles frustrated," Cage chirped. "They can’t pin him as arrogant. He doesn’t make scandals. Doesn’t throw around power like the others. And somehow the people love him more every year."

"Because they benefit directly from him," Taylor murmured.

Cale looked between the two, then offered simply, "This year will push that love even further."

Taylor narrowed his eyes slightly. "Do you mean the King’s birthday?"

Cale nodded. "After the celebration, things will shift."

"You say that like you’ve already seen the pieces fall," Cage noted with a sly look.

Cale did not answer at first. He took a slow sip of his tea and smiled mysteriously. Raon, who had finished eating, felt sleepy next to Cale, and he subconsciously rubbed his scales slowly in repetition.

Then he said, "I’ll make sure they do."

Taylor gave him a long, measuring look. "You’ve always been close to the Crown Prince. I knew that. But... I didn’t realize you were that involved."

"I’m not his shadow nor his subordinate," Cale replied coolly. "But I help him win quietly."

Cage grinned. "Is this the part where you tell us you’ve been pulling strings behind the court’s tapestry this whole time?"

"No. Just tying the loose ones no one else bothers with."

Taylor laughed. "You haven’t changed, Young Master Cale."

"I have two kids now," Cale deadpanned, glancing at On and Hong. Cale suddenly realized something.

He had not told Alberu that he had officially adopted two children, which would make him the other parent. But he shook his head and decided to tell him that later.

"They adopted you," Cage said.

"You’re not wrong," Cale sighed.

Taylor leaned back with a thoughtful hum. "Do you really think one event—this birthday banquet—will be enough to solidify a clear frontrunner in the succession?"

"It won’t declare a winner," Cale admitted. "But it’ll draw the battle lines clearer. Nobles are waiting to see who looks stronger. The King’s favor, even if unspoken, will be measured by who he lets take more of the stage."

"And if His Royal Highness takes it," Taylor said slowly, "he’ll gain the swing regions."

"And the moderate factions," Cage added. "The ones waiting on the fence."

Cale nodded.

Taylor folded his hands. "So, what’s our role in all this?"

Cale looked him straight in the eye. "Just do what you’ve been doing. Rule the Northwest well. Show results. Build trust. His Highness’s strength isn’t in nobles who shout. It’s in allies who quietly reshape the land."

"Mm," Taylor mused. "That, I can do."

Cage leaned forward, resting her chin in her palm. "And what about you, Mr. Loose-Tie Henituse? Going to pull another miracle out of your coat?"

"I’m going to drink tea and not die."

"Liar."

Cale grinned.

Raon, still half-asleep, mumbled from the windowsill, "Human’s planning something again..."

"Just continue to sleep, okay."

Raon snored louder in protest.

They all laughed.

And just like that, the conversation returned to normal things—lighter things. Cake, the new play showing at the plaza. How Hong wanted to try seaweed soup, and how Cage once threatened a noble for calling her robes dirty.

But underneath it all, they knew that the chessboard was set. The pieces were moving. And Cale Henituse had already begun the first plays of the final game.

Chapter Text

Cale Henituse, sitting on a velvet settee with tea he had not touched, lazily opened the envelope.

Amiru Ubarr.

Eric Wheelsman.

Gilbert Chetter.

The three Northeastern noble representatives had invited him to a private gathering the next day to discuss “a strategic collaboration with the Crown.” It was clearly phrased with political delicacy, but the undercurrent of urgency was obvious. Cale could not help but brush off his hands delicately over the seals of the people he considered friends in his first life.

The three people who did not give up on him no matter how stubborn he was. Even if he cast everyone aside. Beacrox saw this emotion when he served some of the snacks to the kids.

"Did something happen before?" Beacrox asked with a frown.

"These people... They never gave up on me when I cast everyone out of my life... Still sending letters, still asking for my well-being, still trying to help when I did not want to see them. And... one of my support systems after... after the Henituse completely fell..." A nostalgic expression appeared on his face as he smiled at these letters.

"Cale... it would be hard to see them. But I think, for you to heal and accept that everything that happened in your past is not your fault, you should meet them," Beacrox patted the back of Cale.

Cale looked at him. Beacrox probably gave that advice as a brother and not as his servant.

Cale folded the letter, mentally filing it away. “Then, I’ll go,” he murmured, reaching for his pen to scribble a simple reply.

Cale made up his mind once more. He then turned on the magic music box in the corner. Beacrox gave a small but warm smile before leaving.

Cale completely relaxed his body on the couch as he smiled.

“This is great.”

‘Now this is living.’

Cale had a relaxed smile on his face. At that moment.

Raon immediately turned invisible again, while the kids were pretending to read or color on a paper.

Cale got up to head to the door.

“Ah.”

Clang.

Suddenly, the wine bottle that he wanted to drink later broke, which made him frown.

‘I have a bad feeling about this.’

Cale suddenly had a bad feeling for no reason. He quickly headed for the door.

‘Why do I have such an ominous feeling? Did something big happen? It should not be, as I gave multiple plans if the worst comes to worst.’

Cale could not figure it out. His heart was racing at the moment, worried that there might be variables that happened in the process.

After all, you cannot really ignore the butterfly effect.

‘Is it Choi Han? No, it cannot be. Unless he travels like a lunatic, there is no way he arrived here already. He will not be here for another three days.’

There was no way someone like Choi Han would force an injured Lock to move faster. Even though Choi Han had potions that Cale had given him, the wolf tribe was disowned by the gods. Since potions were made with divine power, they did not work on them.

And there was also no way that Rosalyn, the careful and cautious person who hid her magic abilities at first in the novel, would use advanced magic to transport them all to the capital.

But, most importantly, Cale had told Choi Han that he would be staying at a specific hotel in the capital. He was going to meet Choi Han there once before leaving Ron and Beacrox to take care of the rest.

But he did tell Choi Han that if he thought the situation was out of his control, he was allowed to use the resources of Soo'Ari that were scattered all over the two continents.

Cale calmed himself down before vigorously opening the door.

“You.”

Cale’s heart sank as soon as he opened the door. An urgent and desperate voice quickly reached Cale’s ear.

“Cale-nim. I am sorry. You were the only person that came to mind. I... I do not know what happened... Everything was going well until...”

A desperate Choi Han was standing in front of him. He seemed to have rushed here as quickly as possible, as he looked like a total mess. Cale snapped at Choi Han with his usual calm and stoic face.

Seeing Cale calm, Choi Han started to calm down.

Meanwhile, Cale felt like he had seen the scariest thing in his life. Next to Choi Han was the deputy butler Hans, who had a similar expression as Choi Han, but with a bit of confusion mixed into it. However, the moment Cale saw the person who came with Choi Han, as well as the person on Choi Han’s back, he quickly opened the door.

“Come in for now.”

The person on Choi Han’s back was none other than the Wolf Tribe member, Lock.

“Bring him with you.”

Lock of the Blue Wolf Tribe, the successor of the Wolf King, seemed to be in a dangerous state.

Lock was currently going through the pain before transforming into berserk mode for the first time in his life. Cale did not know why this state, which happened a year later in the novel, was already happening.

However, he looked around at everybody and said just one thing.

“Do not worry.”

Choi Han and Lock. Behind Choi Han was Rosalyn. These three people walked into Cale’s room.

“Hans. Go bring something to drink, for the kids too.”

“Excuse me? Ah, right away!” Hans scrambled but immediately did what Cale asked.

Cale closed the door without letting deputy butler Hans into the room. Cale then pointed to the bed for Choi Han, who was looking at him, to put Lock down.

“Lay him down first.”

“Got it.”

Choi Han carefully put Lock on the bed. Cale slowly approached Lock. Lock definitely had the purest of pure blood, making him look like a weak human. However, he was pretty tall for being a young boy.

“Haaaah, haaaaa, haaaah.”

Lock was huffing and trying his best to open his eyes. He had a deep frown on his face, and his body was limp, like he could not put any strength into it. It was already too late to prevent the berserk state from arriving.

Cale looked at the tall, but still young boy in front of him, who was doing his best to keep his eyes open, and told him to relax.

“Just keep your eyes closed. No need to strain yourself.”

There was no strength in Cale’s stern tone, but it had a way of making people listen. Lock slowly closed his eyes. The voice of this man, whom Lock did not know, flowed into Lock’s ear.

“Everything will be okay.”

Lock was huffing and quietly calling for someone. He was calling for his uncle, the chief of the Blue Wolf Tribe, and the man who died for the tribe, even though he was one step away from becoming the Wolf King. His uncle had made sure Lock was hidden before rushing toward the invaders.

‘Everything will be okay.’ Cale was sure that Choi Han made it to the area early. The book does not specify the time of the attack. But Cale obsessively calculated everything and even rewrote the book in Korean. He dissected the book word for word so that Cale had an outlined timeline of events that happened in the book.

Of course, Cale also made multiple scenarios if things went wrong somewhere in the middle. Possible outcomes, midnight strategy with Alberu, everything to make their plan perfect. So while Cale was cautious, he was still calm at the moment

Meanwhile, in the mind of Lock, it was what his uncle had said to him. Lock started to frown after thinking about his uncle. Cale just ignored him as he turned away.

“Cale-nim, why is Lock like this?”

Choi Han still looked anxious and desperate. Originally in the novel, Choi Han had only slightly opened his heart to Lock by this point.

‘Just what could have happened?’ He looked at Lock's overall symptoms.

Cale was not an idiot. He knew that Choi Han’s situation had changed a bit because of him. He left the Forest of Darkness early, had emotional support for almost a decade, and a tie from his previous world which was him and Alberu.

So this Choi Han was far from what he became in that book. He learned a lot from talented people and experienced a stability that Cale gave him.

“Potions do not work either. According to Rosalyn, the wolf tribe is one that cannot use potions. Healing magic does not seem to work either. I am not sure about what to do. I need to protect him. I am supposed to protect him.”

“Calm down.” Cale was worried that it would be Choi Han who ended up going berserk if he continued like this.

That would be just as scary as that dragon in the corner of the room going berserk. Maybe it was because he lived for tens of years in solitude. Actually, even though he lived for tens of years in solitude, Choi Han’s personality remained one where he was a nice guy who cared a lot for things like friendship.

“Cale-nim.”

“If you trust me, just leave him to me.”

“… I trust you.” The sincerity in Choi Han's eyes was visible, like how a loyal knight looks at his liege.

“Good.” Cale confirmed that Choi Han had calmed down before turning his gaze over to Rosalyn.

Rosalyn Ashwyn.

She was the first successor to the throne in the Breck Kingdom. However, this genius mage was ready to throw all of that away. Rosalyn reminded Cale of a red rose. She had red hair that was even brighter than Cale’s, as well as beautiful red lips that currently had their corners lifted up with curiosity.

Although she may remind him of a rose, her personality was closer to that of the sun.

Rosalyn did not put Lock, Choi Han, or even Cale in her eyes. She was focused on the corner of the room.

“This aura, this strong aura of mana.” Rosalyn was accurately looking at the chair that Raon had used earlier, while her hands were shaking and clenched tightly.

“Sigh.”

A sigh came out of Cale’s mouth. It seemed like the dragon was curious about this mage. Raon mischievously sent some mana over to Rosalyn, seemingly trying to test her and showing off some mana skills that Rosalyn could not even dream about.

Throughout history, dragons had a tendency to hate humans but like mages quite a bit.

Raon was doing that because he was happy.

Cale looked toward the table that seemed empty and quietly started to speak.

“Stop it. Stay still.”

Almost instantly, Rosalyn took a deep breath and quickly returned to normal. The dragon seemed to have removed his mana. Rosalyn could not stop shaking as she looked toward Cale.

“Just what—”

Cale cut her off and pointed to Lock.

“This is more important.”

“Ah.”

Rosalyn’s expression quickly calmed down. She looked at Lock, who was lying down with his eyes closed, and asked Cale.

“What is going on with Lock right now?”

Cale looked at the small staff in her hand. The reason they were able to arrive at the capital in just three days was probably because Rosalyn used teleportation magic. Contrary to Cale’s expectations, Rosalyn had already revealed the extent of her abilities.

“You are a mage, right?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Have you heard anything about the berserk mode of Beast tribes?”

“Ah.”

Rosalyn let out a small noise. However, her face quickly filled with confusion.

“I have read about the Wolf Tribe’s berserk mode in books. However, I have never read anything about heating up like this and being in pain.”

“It is because it is his first time.”

“Excuse me?”

Cale continued to speak to the people in the room who were all looking at him.

“Beast people lose their sanity during their first time entering berserk mode because of the physical pain from their bodily transformation. If they can persevere past this first painful transformation, they will be able to use the berserk mode as a weapon.”

Beast people were at their strongest when they were in berserk mode. Cale observed Lock’s situation before continuing on.

“He will go berserk very soon.”

He then turned to look at Rosalyn. Rosalyn nodded her head at his gaze and sternly answered.

“I do not know what kind of person you are, but I am able to read the situation.”

Although her tone was stern, her eyes were still gentle.

“He is a young boy.”

“I know.”

She was asking Cale for help, and Cale was agreeing to help.

At that moment, the two kids appeared between the two of them and followed Cale. Ohn and Hong were staring at Lock when…

“Ugh.”

Lock revealed his teeth and started to growl at Ohn and Hong. His instincts were in control over his rationality right now, making him react to other beast people. He looked so vicious that even Choi Han was worried. However…

Hong used his hands to smack Lock’s growling mouth. Despite it being a human hand, sharp nails appeared on his fingers like how a cat's claw would appear when threatened.

He then looked toward Cale with eyes that seemed to be asking Cale to hurry up and help Lock.

“He is fine.”

Cale responded to Hong when there was a knock on the door. When Cale opened the door, Hans had brought drinks as well as wet towels. Cale gave Hans another order.

“Hans.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Bring something to carry him with.”

“Ye… excuse me?”

Cale pointed to Lock on the bed.

“Put him on it and take him to the underground training arena. Oh, make sure all of the knights are out of the arena and that nobody is in there.”

Hans’s expression seemed to be asking why Cale would move a sick boy to the arena, but Cale just ignored it.

“Hurry up.”

“… Yes, sir.”

Hans had a ton of questions and was looking at Cale weirdly, but he still did his job. He quickly left to grab something to carry Lock with, while Cale turned around to look at Choi Han and Rosalyn.

“Choi Han. And you.”

“It is Rosalyn.”

“Yes, Rosalyn.”

The two of them looked away from the bed to look at Cale.

“Yes, Cale-nim.”

“What is it?”

Concern, worry, despair, and sincerity. With all those emotions on their faces, Choi Han and Rosalyn looked more like simple good people rather than heroes. Cale bluntly started to speak to the two of them.

“You two will need to get beat up a bit.”

“… Excuse me?”

After a few seconds of silence, Rosalyn seemed shocked, while Choi Han just quietly waited for Cale’s continuing words.

“Normally, when beast people with wild beast blood like the Wolf Tribe, Tiger Tribe, and Bear Tribe experience going berserk for the first time, their parents and siblings help take care of it. They take all the attacks of the berserk individual and protect them to make sure they do not get hurt. That is how they protect their children.”

Choi Han and Rosalyn’s expressions turned sour almost instantly. Lock did not have any parents or siblings now. Cale peeked over at Lock before continuing to speak.

“I can tell that is not an option for this child.”

Clap.

Cale clapped once before pointing at Choi Han and Rosalyn.

“That is why we will pretend to be the older brother and older sister. Any family member. You two will need to figure out how to protect him.”

Cale had his Indestructible Shield, but he did not want to take care of Lock’s berserk state. Why should he step in when there were people stronger than him right here?

Rosalyn and Choi Han looked at each other.

“He will tire out on his own, and the berserk state will slowly disappear. It is important that his consciousness returns during this first berserk transformation. That is the only way to make him retain his consciousness and rationality the next time he transforms into the berserk mode.”

That would be when his rationality beats out his natural instinct. It was important for beast people to reach that state. Choi Han debated it for a moment before asking Cale a question.

“Cale-nim, how long will he maintain his berserk mode?”

“He has the purest of pure blood.”

“… So you mean it will take a long time.”

“Yes. Probably about two hours.”

Cale approached Lock’s bed and patted Choi Han’s shoulder.

“It will be difficult for other people, but Choi Han, it should be easy for you. I trust you.”

“… I will succeed. I am Lock’s hyung.”

Rosalyn looked toward Choi Han with an odd expression. Choi Han had manically killed the assassins to protect the living. During their journey, he was always alert and observing his surroundings. However, such a person seemed extremely relaxed, even though this was a very urgent situation.

She then heard Cale’s relaxed voice while she was still watching Choi Han.

“Yes, yes you are. Let us eat something delicious after it is done.”

Cale was thinking about the food and wine he did not get to finish.

The door opened at that moment, and Hans entered with Ron and something to carry Lock.

“Young master, the arena has been cleared.”

“That was fast.”

Cale ordered Choi Han to move the now continuously growling Lock onto the stretcher before saying the following.

“Let us go."