Teleportation

The months passed in the blink of an eye, and the date of the ball quickly approached.

Sylvie had practically evolved from a dance instructor to Lindarion's full-time private tutor.

He hated studying.

She drilled etiquette, elven history, world history—math, communication… everyday blurred into the next.

'Dancing is more enjoyable than this.'

"The Sunblade dynasty is one of the oldest noble families, known for their swordsmanship and light-based magic," Sylvie lectured, her voice unwavering.

She had been going on about the origins of elves for two hours straight, and since his family had played a major role in that history, Lindarion had no choice but to listen.

'So, we're good with swords, huh?'

"Why swordsmanship, though?" he asked, more to keep himself engaged than anything.

Sylvie's eyes gleamed at the question. 

'This was a mistake.'

"Every noble and royal family has its own unique combat technique or magic that only their heirs can learn," she explained, stepping forward as if about to demonstrate. 

"These techniques are passed down through generations and are often closely tied to the family's mana affinity or fighting style."

Lindarion stiffened. She was taking this way too seriously.

"The Sunblade family, for example, wields the Style of the Sunblade. It's an extremely refined and destructive sword art infused with light and fire. Only those of the Sunblade bloodline can truly master it because it requires not just physical skill but a special kind of mana perception."

Sylvie moved her hand through the air as if wielding an invisible sword. Lindarion had to resist the urge to laugh.

"Other families have their own unique techniques as well. The Nightgem House, for instance, uses the Moonlight Step—their movements are so fast and graceful that they practically become shadows in the night."

She smirked, clearly enjoying herself.

'She talks too much…'

"These techniques aren't just weapons," she continued. 

"They symbolize a family's legacy, history, and strength. Anyone who wields them must also be worthy. Learning the moves isn't enough—you have to understand the principles behind them."

Finally, her expression grew serious, the air around them shifting. She locked eyes with him, voice solemn.

"And you, as the heir of the Sunblade family, will one day fully master this power. But until then, you have a long way to go. Your heritage is a great responsibility."

Lindarion held back a sigh.

'So every noble family has its own technique… I should look into this more. It could be useful.'

He glanced at the clock. His heart skipped a beat.

"Thank you for today's lesson, Sylvie," he said quickly.

"The pleasure is mine, Prince. Until nex—"

He didn't wait for her to finish. The moment he saw an opening, he bolted out of the room like a runaway prisoner.

'Run, run!'

His feet carried him straight to the garden—his sanctuary. Here, he was free. No tutors, no lectures, just the sounds of nature and the occasional wandering animal.

He exhaled deeply and lay on the grass, arms behind his head.

"Nothing can disturb me now."

[Famous last words.]

'Huh?'

Soft footsteps approached. Light, elegant—probably a woman.

"My dear little son, would you mind telling me what you're doing out here instead of getting ready?"

Lindarion froze.

'Oh no.'

He jumped to his feet, coming face-to-face with his mother.

"Hi, Mom. What do you mean? Getting ready for what?"

"We're leaving for the human kingdom tomorrow," she said with a smile. "Didn't I tell you?"

'…No, you definitely didn't, Mom.'

He had to fight the urge to facepalm.

"No, Mom, you definitely forgot."

Melion giggled behind her hand.

"Oops, I guess I forgot. You better start packing, my son."

She leaned in, kissed his forehead, and turned to leave.

"I'll go prepare some things as well."

Lindarion watched her disappear into the palace before sighing.

"So… I should start preparing."

Reluctantly, he made his way back to his room.

A few hours later, a well-dressed man knocked on his door. The man wore a black suit with a golden tie, standing with the poise of a professional butler.

"Good afternoon, sir. I've come to collect your belongings."

He bowed slightly.

Lindarion returned the gesture—only halfway, as was proper.

"I'll be ready in a moment."

Most of his important items were already stored in his black void. He doubted he had missed anything.

He handed the man a few suitcases, watching as the butler whispered something under his breath. The luggage vanished into a ring.

'Ah, a portable storage ring. That makes things easier.'

"We can depart as soon as you're ready, sir," the man added.

"Already?" Lindarion tilted his head slightly. It felt too soon.

"Yes, sir. The teleportation gate is prepared."

'…Got it.'

"Alright, lead the way."

The butler bowed again and turned, but Lindarion suddenly stopped him.

"Wait here a moment."

Without explaining, he sprinted toward his father's office.

The moment he arrived, he barged in without ceremony.

"Father, we're leaving now."

His father, Eldrin, barely looked up from his mountain of paperwork, though a flicker of surprise—and amusement—crossed his eyes.

"Alright, son. Take care of yourself… and your mother."

Lindarion gave him a respectful bow.

"I will, Father."

Then, he rushed back to the waiting butler.

By the time they arrived at the teleportation gate, his mother was already waiting, surrounded by a few guards he didn't recognize.

He approached and nodded slightly when they bowed to him out of respect.

"Please, raise your heads. I should be the one thanking you, as you are the ones protecting us," Lindarion said calmly.

The head guard, a tall and imposing figure, smiled—he clearly hadn't expected such words from a child.

"Therion Stormfang, sir! It's an honor to serve as your escort!"

Therion bowed even lower.

"Please, sir, lift your head," Lindarion said, his voice firm yet gentle.

Therion obeyed immediately, their eyes meeting for a brief moment before the guard gave him a single nod.

"Alright, let's get going," his mother interrupted, stepping into the teleportation gate.

Lindarion followed without hesitation.

A wave of dizziness washed over him, his vision darkened, and then—suddenly—the scenery changed.

Before them stood a grand castle wall.

"Welcome, representatives of the Sunblade family—Melion Sunblade and Lindarion Sunblade. It is a great honor to have you here."

A strong male voice greeted them.

"I hope you enjoy the ball… and Leonhardt Valerian's castle."

The man smiled and bowed.

—

Eldrin

He sensed someone running toward his office long before the doors burst open.

He already knew from the breathing pattern—it was Lindarion.

'He decided to come before leaving.'

"Father, we're leaving now."

His son's voice carried a trace of excitement.

"Alright, son. Take care of yourself… and your mother."

Eldrin wished he could go with them, but duty held him back.

Lindarion gave him a small bow, standing straight like a well-trained soldier.

"I will, Father."

Eldrin's expression softened slightly.

'Seraphine, follow them and keep them safe.'

'As you command, my lord.'

The moment Lindarion turned away, Seraphine melted into his shadow like a phantom, vanishing without a trace.

Eldrin leaned back in his chair, letting out a quiet sigh.

'I hope nothing goes wrong… It's just a ball, after all.'

With that thought, he returned to his paperwork.