Lance Von Daname

Lance led Camilla out of the command tent and toward his own.

As they walked, Camilla quietly examined him.

She'd heard of him in her father's letters: a man of dedication and love for his kingdom.

Quite the mood lifter and morale booster too.

Yet, eyeing the man before her, all she saw was a shell—hollowed by loss.

"I'm sorry, Lord Lance," Camilla sighed. "I shouldn't have spoken so harshly. You've been through a lot, haven't you?"

Lance glanced back with a small smile. "It's fine. I know I'm difficult—choosing lives I hold dear over a kingdom of 17 million."

He shook his head slowly. "Your father was right: this war takes from everyone, not just me."

Camilla smiled softly.

"Speaking of fathers… I met your son Alexander. Quite the charming character."

She giggled.

Lance's grin widened at the mention.

"I know—he's wonderful."

He paused.

"Impulsive, though. Last time I saw him, he picked this girl up from the city and brought her home like a Windwalker pup."

He chuckled.

"A girl?" Camilla tilted her head curiously. "You mean Marcus?"

Lance nodded. "Mhmm. She's a good kid—shy around Alex, though. Won't even tell him she's a girl, fearing he won't play with her anymore."

Camilla's eyes widened in realization. "Oh—I thought Marcus was just a pretty boy."

She chuckled.

"But that makes more sense."

"Well, if you thought Marcus was a boy, she hasn't told Alex either."

He sighed.

"How is he, my son?"

"Doing fine," Camilla smiled. "Really smart—kind, charismatic, with your dashing looks."

Lance's smile grew.

"Now I really miss him," he said softly.

"Hopefully, when the war quiets, I can visit—and send Marcus to a Pathfinder academy."

He stopped before a small tent bearing the Daname banner.

"We're here," he said softly, stepping in.

Camilla took a deep breath and followed.

Inside: a central wooden table, surrounded by bunk beds and Pathfinders.

Five total, in the Fallen Kingdom's blue uniforms with the Daname patch.

"Lord Lance—how was the meeting with the commander?" one asked.

She mirrored Elise—except for a pixie cut over ponytail.

Lance sighed.

"Another mission."

He approached the table.

"Deep in enemy territory this time."

The Pathfinder—Sophia—joined him, eyeing the map. "Alright, what's the plan?"

Lance paused, meeting her eyes.

"Suicide: assaulting a position with over 400 mages and 50,000 infantry."

He chuckled bitterly. "If we get caught in a firefight—or bogged down even slightly…"

"We'd be fish in a barrel," Sophia crossed her arms.

"I'm not taking it," Lance told his men, hands on the table.

He explained: "we'd be outnumbered, deep behind enemy lines, no backup or evac."

Tension fell; Pathfinders exchanged uneasy glances, shifting.

Lance scrutinized each.

Sophia broke silence.

"We didn't become Pathfinders for ease, my lord—we join for our kingdom."

She smiled, arms crossed. "That's why we serve: it's what we love."

"I second that," another grinned confidently.

"If every mission was easy, are we even doing anything?"

Agreement waved through; each stepped forward.

"Count me in, my lord."

"I'm willing."

"At your command."

Lance grinned wide. "You're the bravest Pathfinders I've seen."

He stood, saluting: heels clicking, fist to chest.

"Honored to lead you."

Camilla, observing quietly, spoke. "I may not match your bravery or skill—but I'll give everything."

She smiled at Lance. "So, Commander—what's the plan?"

Lance grinned, laying it out. "Tomorrow at 0400, we move through the mountains here…"

As Lance prepped his unit for the factory assault, his son Alexander rode home with his mother and friends.

Alexander gazed out the window, city blurring by.

His day was spent endlessly shopping.

Now, the carriage brimmed with clothing bags.

"Today was surprisingly productive," Olivia giggled, eyeing the brown paper bags on the floor.

Alexander glanced down, then up. "You said twenty minutes," he pouted. "It's been hours."

Olivia laughed softly, tender smile for her son.

"Ah, I did."

She Nodded.

"But you had fun, right? We don't spend time like this often."

Alexander sighed.

True—this was his longest trip with Olivia, and it was enjoyable.

"Guess so," he smiled slightly.

He then paused, scratch his cheek.

"But uh… how'd we afford all this?"

Olivia raised an eyebrow. "You don't know how we make money?"

Alexander nodded. He'd no clue about nobility here.

He expected it to be Earth-like: taxes, land, trade…

But his family collected nothing, owning only the mansion and grounds.

Pathfinders seemed to be key, as entire schools trained them.

But he was confused as to how it connected.

Olivia crossed her arms.

"Hmm—suppose you'd learn eventually."

"Lance and his Pathfinders take missions from crown, city, or military."

She began:

"Missions vary greatly—pest extermination or enemy assaults."

She Continued: "contracts are posted at various starting amounts depending on several factors."

"Pathfinder houses then bid. Lowest bid with the best service wins the contract—and by extension, the pay."

Alexander nodded, absorbing it all.

Missions: military contracts; houses: contractors…

"So then, does every noble house works this way?"

Alexander asked as a follow up.

Olivia shook head. "No—only Pathfinder houses. The others are major houses and crown."

"Pathfinders are lower nobility. But the eight Major houses control territory, taxes and civil affairs."

She then Sighed. "They're separate class entirely—if you think I over spend, you should see Countess Alice: bought an entire castle."

Olivia looked frustrated, envious even.

Louise, quiet till now, chimed in.

"Only for most Pathfinder houses." She informed with a haughty tone.

"The Nova house is longstanding and prosperous. We're the queen's blade tip: first in, last out."

She crossed her arms, eyeing Alexander.

"We own an entire island and control forward operating bases housing top notch military facilities."

Her grin widened.

"Thousands of Pathfinders fly our banner, and are stationed throughout main and demon continents."

Alexander raised eyebrow.

Who asked?

"Mhmm," he replied.

"While the Nova's are certainly established, Daname is nothing to scoff at,"

Olivia smiled pridefully.

"Lance, came to Fallen Kingdom after graduation from his academy."

"He Skipped joining established house—created his own with me and Erica."

She Chuckled. "He Took missions solo. Always for low price—and always over-delivered."

"He was the elite of the elite, even managing stealing contracts from established houses like Statem and Killt."

Alexander's eyes widened.

"Really?!"

He was excited.

Erica had mentioned his Father's exploits in passing—but hearing details?

It was Awesome!

Father is basically an anime protagonist!

Olivia nodded enthusiastically.

"Right—post-war I doubt any house will benefit more than us. Lance's exploits will ensure the crown pay us for decades."

Alexander chuckled disbelief.

He felt like the luckiest boy alive.

His Father wasn't just a snobbish noble—but a decorated hero.

Alexander grinned at Louise. "Ha—my family's better. You brag about being the queen's blade tip; while mine carries the war!"

Louise rolled her eyes. "You mistake the gravity of your efforts—if not for my family you'd have no kingdom left."

"Ah, but without mine, your kingdom is in danger," Alexander countered. "Your Sister said so."

Louise rolled her eyes. "Tch—the Royal Navy would crush any attempt."