15

The steady rhythm of gravel crunching beneath the carriage's wooden wheels, punctuated by the horse's constant gallop, filled the small room where the boy sat quietly, his gaze drifting outside the window. The bustling streets of the capital unfurled before him, stirring faded memories of a time when he had dreamed of roaming these very streets at night. It had been over a year since he last set foot in the city.

"Where are we going?" he asked, turning his attention to Alcor, who sat across from him, eyes fixed on the documents in his hands.

Alcor glanced up briefly, his focus still on the papers. "The Rosfenice family," he replied, his tone casual. "They're one of the pillar families of the empire."

The boy's curiosity lingered, his gaze fixed on Alcor as the man continued reading. Noticing the intensity of the boy's stare, Alcor's brows furrowed slightly. He set the papers down on his lap, clearing his throat before speaking again.

"The four pillar families," Alcor began, his voice taking on a more instructive tone, "are the major clans that form the foundation of the empire, aside from the royal family itself." He handed the boy a map of the city, pointing to various locations as he continued.

"The Soru'draiggs represent the dragon the founder defeated when creating the empire. They protect the royal throne and serve as a symbol of hope in the darkest times." Alcor's finger traced across the map, stopping at a different point. "The Rosfenice family, on the other hand, symbolizes the phoenix from the founder's dream that had guided him to the first Soru'draigg. They maintain our financial stability and manage relationships with factions beyond our borders."

The boy's eyes followed Alcor's hand as it moved beyond the empire's walls, stopping at a city known as the bastion of the empire. "Ruby City," Alcor continued, "is the indestructible bastion of our empire. It was the first country your uncle annexed when he rose to the throne."

Akuma Soru'draigg, the boy's mother's eldest brother, had been the former emperor—the first Soru'draigg to claim the throne, and the first emperor to conquer more than half of the Sanct Pierre continent. Despite being unable to wield magic, his prowess had spread fear throughout the land, leading to rumors in the northern holy kingdom that God himself had struck him down.

"The city is managed by the Albetigri family, named after the tiger the founder rode into battle. They oversee the empire's military and safeguard our borders from any who dare invade."

Finally, Alcor's hand stopped at a small city between the capital and Ruby City. "Then there's the Alvanero family, inspired by the monstrous turtle the founder nearly lost to. Though they are a pillar family, they are treated as a regular noble clan by the founder's wish, serving as the bridge between the empire's citizens and those who rule over them."

Alcor paused, glancing at the boy to see if he was following along. "The royal family, meanwhile, serves more as a symbol than—oh, it seems we're here." Alcor sighed as the carriage slowed, the bustling streets giving way to a grand estate. The boy leaned forward, rolling down the window to get a better view as they passed through the dark-red gates of the mansion, his eyes widening in awe.

Majestic white marble pillars rose from the ground, supporting the grand roof that loomed over the mansion's front doors. A row of servants in black and white uniforms lined up before them, a red carpet unfurling to welcome the visitors. At the head of the line stood a man with unkempt, short maroon hair, his stern gaze locking onto the boy, causing a wave of unease to wash over him.

As the carriage came to a stop, Alcor stepped out, striding confidently toward the stern-looking man. The boy hesitated, then followed closely behind, his steps more cautious. The maids' warm smiles only heightened his anxiety, a nervousness he hadn't known before.

"Alcor," the man greeted, nodding as he took Alcor's hand in a firm, brief handshake. "I've heard about what happened. I'm glad to see you're alright."

"Drop the formalities, Ignatius," Alcor sighed, shaking his head before gently nudging the boy forward. "This is my son. And this," he added with a slight smile, "is Ignatius Rosfenice the 3rd, head of the Rosfenice family."

"H-Hello," the boy stammered, bowing awkwardly. The maids' hearts melted at the sight, but a stern glance from Ignatius quickly silenced their giggles. Ignatius looked the boy over, his gaze heavy, much like the pressure Aria exuded. Yet, the boy didn't falter, keeping his head bowed in respect.

"So, this is the kid..." Ignatius murmured, running a hand through his wild locks before turning on his heel to head inside the estate. Alcor ruffled the boy's hair affectionately, a silent reassurance before following.

The boy swallowed nervously, the lump in his throat easing as they entered the mansion. Wonder replaced his earlier anxiety as he took in the grandeur of the Rosfenice estate. The hallways were adorned with beautiful paintings and fresh flowers, red wallpaper lining the walls. The goddess, perched on his shoulder, leaped down to frolic on the soft carpet, her tiny feet leaving faint imprints in the plush fabric.

"The usual routine, I assume?" Ignatius asked as they stood in front of the lobby doors, his eyes on the boy who was now exploring the room with childlike curiosity. Alcor nodded, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched his son.

"Yes, but we'll need a room this time; the check-up might take longer than usual. Just the knights, though. We'll also restock your potion inventory while we're here to make up for the trouble."

Ignatius nodded, the corners of his mouth lifting in a rare, satisfied smile, quickly masked by a stiff nod. Alcor chuckled softly, amused by his friend's attempt at maintaining decorum. The boy, however, had frozen mid-step, his attention captivated by a young girl sitting quietly on the couch.

She was like a porcelain doll, with skin so pale it seemed to glow, and jet-black hair cascading over her shoulders. But it wasn't her beauty alone that struck the boy—it was her stillness. She hadn't moved or made a sound since they'd entered the room. Her eyes, a pale cerulean blue, stared blankly ahead, as if she were lost in a fog.

"Ah, that's my daughter," Ignatius said, noticing the boy's gaze. He sighed, the sound heavy with unspoken concern. "Don't worry about her. She... gets like that sometimes."

"So, that's her," Alcor murmured, coming to stand beside the boy. His gaze softened as he looked at the girl. "Grandma mentioned her case was strange, even she wasn't sure how to fix it. Is she alright?"

"She's healthy," Ignatius replied, his tone carrying a hint of frustration. "But sometimes, it's as if she shuts down. Aria believes it's due to corrupted mana, but we have no idea what caused it."

The boy's brow furrowed in thought. "Will she be alright?" he asked quietly, his voice laced with concern. "I mean, in the future?"

Ignatius's expression softened, a rare tenderness in his eyes as he looked at his daughter. "Don't worry. We're not like the Soru'draiggs. She's my daughter, and I'll take care of her, even if the moon itself falls from the sky." He shot a glance at Alcor, who could only offer a regretful chuckle.

The boy understood the weight of Ignatius's words, nodding thoughtfully before turning back to the girl. His gaze hardened with determination, a resolve forming in his young heart.

"I..." he began, his voice steady as he looked back at the two men. "I can help her," he declared, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "I'll help Seraphina."