Zemel

In a quiet room within Duke Agri's office, an older man sat at his desk, deep in concentration. His pen moved tirelessly over piles of documents scattered across the table, stacked so high they nearly reached his wrists. His gaze was intense, betraying only faint lines of exhaustion that spoke of burdens long borne in silence.

Stein Agri, the Duke of this region and a renowned phantom, found himself burdened with responsibilities he hadn't necessarily chosen. As a pillar of the Evalon Kingdom, the responsibility of managing border conflicts never strayed far from him, despite his secret desire for a quieter life. Today, he was ensnared in the intricacies of a political conflict flaring at the border—a task that demanded not only sharp intellect but the strength to command and pacify.

But it wasn't only the heaps of documents that weighed on Duke Stein's mind. Beneath his stoic expression lay a deeper concern for his son, Zion, who lately seemed more withdrawn and detached. Stein knew that Zion was a unique child, yet his recent transformation had become a mystery that shadowed the Duke's thoughts.

"I hope Zion will change," Stein murmured softly, a father's hope for his son's well-being. It was a quiet prayer he often repeated, though sometimes he felt as if he was speaking into the void.

Just as Stein sank into his thoughts, a sound startled him—the office door creaked open. Standing there was a tall, sturdy man, despite his advancing age. His posture was straight, his frame still imposing. This was Zemel, the loyal head servant whose family had served the Agri household for centuries. Though only a servant, Zemel was a warrior in his own right, holding a formidable level of 55 and more than capable of defending Duke Stein and his family in an emergency.

"Duke Stein, I come with important news," Zemel announced, his voice steady yet urgent.

"Take a breath, Zemel. What is it you need to tell me?" Stein asked, attempting to calm the older man.

"Young Master Zion… he has changed," Zemel said seriously, his voice guarded, as though wary of stirring false hope.

"Changed? Are you speaking of Zion?" Stein asked, intrigued.

Zemel gave a solemn nod before continuing, "Indeed, Duke. A short while ago, the young master left his room."

For a moment, Stein froze, his eyes gleaming with a newfound hope. "Truly? At last, some good news. But… is that all you've come to report?" Although delighted to hear Zion had finally stepped out of his room, he remained hesitant, fearing that his son might retreat once again.

"After leaving his room, Young Master Zion went straight to the family's training grounds," Zemel added, his enthusiasm uncontainable.

"What? Is that true?" Stein's face brightened, his heart suddenly alight with warmth. Could it be that his once lifeless son had finally decided to wield a sword?

"And there's more," Zemel continued, his voice tinged with awe. "The young master challenged one of the family's knights—a level 19 warrior—and defeated him with ease. Not only that, but he even beheaded the knight with a wooden sword."

Hearing this, Stein's heart surged with an unexpected joy, as if an old dream had suddenly reawakened. "Are you sure you saw this, Zemel?"

Zemel nodded firmly. "I swear on my swordsmanship, Duke. I witnessed it with my own eyes."

Zemel's oath brought Stein a measure of confidence. Zemel had never lied to him, and this time, the news seemed like a long-awaited answer to his silent worries.

"This is truly wonderful news, Zemel. Call Zion here. I wish to see him," Stein ordered, his expression brimming with excitement. The stacks of paperwork on his desk no longer held any importance; he wanted nothing more than to see his son immediately.

'I'll tend to matters of the Empire later. Right now, I just want to see Zion,' he resolved.

Meanwhile, Zion lay on his bed, stretching out his limbs after returning from the training grounds. The golden light of the setting sun streamed through his window, casting a soft glow across the room, filling it with a quiet warmth.

"This is so dull... I thought this new world would be more challenging," Zion muttered with a sigh, his voice tinged with a hint of disappointment.

Suddenly, there was a gentle knock on his door.

"May I come in, Young Master Zion?" A respectful voice called out.

"Who are you?" Zion asked, not moving from his place on the bed.

"I am Zemel, the personal servant of Duke Stein. The Duke has requested your presence in his office; he wishes to meet with you," Zemel replied courteously, though a trace of anxiety crept into his tone. The young man behind this door was so different from the Zion he once knew.

Zion rose slowly, a touch of curiosity stirring within him. "Very well, wait outside. I'll prepare myself and follow you shortly," he responded, his voice both gentle and clear enough to carry through the closed door.

"As you wish, Young Master. I shall wait here," Zemel replied, standing respectfully outside the door.

Zion quickly changed into more formal attire, selecting a black coat adorned with subtle, genuine gold accents that shimmered under the light. A small smile tugged at his lips as he glanced at his reflection in the mirror—a young nobleman, elegant and regal, like a figure out of a bygone era.

"Damn, I really am handsome," he mused, somewhat amused. On Earth, he had only worn school uniforms or simple modern clothes, but here, the intricate, opulent garments seemed to accentuate his presence.

"I'm ready," he called out to Zemel, opening his bedroom door.

'So, this is Zemel, the head servant,' Zion noted, observing the elderly man before him. Despite his seventy years, Zemel stood tall, his posture firm, his health and strength unmistakable. Though Zion was only 1.8 meters tall, he knew he still had room to grow.

'Has the young master always had such an intense aura up close?' Zemel wondered, slightly unnerved by the piercing gaze Zion directed at him, a look that seemed to see right through him.

"Y-Young Master, please follow me," Zemel stammered, trying to collect himself in the face of Zion's formidable presence.

"Take it easy, Sir Zemel," Zion replied, speaking with an air of respect. After all, Zemel was the servant of his father, Duke Stein, who, in this world, was his father by blood and, notably, a man of advanced years.

Zemel led the way, with Zion following closely behind. They passed through corridor after corridor of the grand estate, its stately pillars and ornate carvings creating an atmosphere of noble opulence. As they walked, several of the family servants couldn't help but notice Zion's changed appearance, exchanging hushed remarks among themselves.

"Has Young Master Zion always been this handsome?" whispered one of the maids, her gaze lingering in admiration.

"I've seen him a few times before, but I never expected he'd look this striking," murmured another maid, eyes fixed on Zion as he followed Zemel down the hall, his every step radiating a newfound confidence and charm that contrasted starkly with the withdrawn youth they had once known.

Before long, they reached a room with a grand, ornately carved door, the rich golden designs gleaming under the crystal chandeliers.

"This is your father's office, Young Master Zion," Zemel announced with a respectful bow, aware that Zion had never stepped foot here before. In truth, the young master had never shown much interest in the world around him.

"Thank you, Sir Zemel." Zion offered a genuine smile before turning his attention to the door. Slowly, he reached for the handle, ready to step inside and face the man who, in this world, was his father—a meeting that perhaps carried more meaning than either of them yet understood.