chapter 3

Zed's eyes snapped open.

His body was drenched in sweat, his breathing ragged. His mind still reeled from the dream

For a moment, he just lay there, staring at the ceiling, his heart pounding in his chest.

But then… he felt something warm.

He turned his head slightly and saw Aurora—her delicate face resting on the wooden table beside his bed, her hand wrapped around his.

Zed blinked in surprise.

Her long, silky black hair was draped over her arms, and her soft breathing was steady and peaceful. The gentle glow of the candlelight flickered across her tired features.

Then, his gaze dropped to her hands.

Bandages.

Her small, slender fingers were wrapped in layers of cloth, barely covering the visible burn marks on her skin.

Zed's brows furrowed. What the hell happened to her?

Just as he was about to sit up, something else caught his eye—

A maid standing near the door, half awake and half asleep.

She was swaying side to side, her head nodding up and down like a broken puppet. Every few seconds, she'd jolt herself awake, straighten her back like a soldier—only to start dozing off again.

Zed watched her for a few moments, mildly entertained.

"This is some next-level dedication… or sleep deprivation."

Clearing his throat, he called out, "Oi."

The maid twitched violently, jerking awake like she had just been struck by lightning.

"Y-Yes, Master Zed!" she blurted, immediately standing stiffly like a scared cat.

Zed waved her over. "Come here."

The maid hurried over, clearly struggling to shake off the sleepiness from her face.

He nodded toward Aurora's hands. "What happened to her?"

The maid's expression softened with sympathy. She hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"For the past few days, Lady Aurora has been praying to the gods"

Zed raised an eyebrow. "So?"

The maid continued, her eyes filled with pity.

"She held candles in her bare hands while praying… for hours."

Silence.

Zed just stared at her.

Then he slowly turned back to Aurora, who was still fast asleep, completely unaware of his absolute confusion.

"...Why?" he asked, his voice flat.

The maid blinked, as if it was obvious.

"For your recovery, Master Zed."

Zed pressed a hand to his forehead. "And nobody thought to stop her?"

The maid gave a sheepish smile. "Well… she was very determined…"

Zed sighed, shaking his head.

This girl…

Something inside him stirred—a warmth, an ache, something he couldn't quite put into words.

His heart clenched.

Even in his absence, Aurora had never given up on him.

Zed exhaled deeply, then looked at the maid. "Take me to the library."

The maid hesitated. "But, Master Zed, your body—"

"I'm fine," he said firmly.

He carefully shifted, reaching toward Aurora. With surprising ease, he lifted her sleeping form and gently placed her onto the bed.

She stirred slightly, mumbling something incomprehensible, but didn't wake up.

Zed pulled the blanket over her small frame, watching her for a moment.

Then, without another word, he turned to the maid.

"Let's go."

The library doors creaked open, and Zed stepped inside, his fire lamp casting a warm glow over the endless rows of bookshelves.

The scent of old parchment and polished wood filled the air, the towering shelves stacked with books that seemed untouched for years.

Zed turned to the maid. "Go rest."

The maid hesitated, clearly torn between following his order and ensuring he didn't collapse from exhaustion.

"But, Master Zed—"

"I'll be fine," Zed cut her off, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The maid bowed slightly, sighed, and reluctantly left the library.

Now alone, Zed wandered through the aisles, running his fingers along the book spines. The dim firelight flickered, casting long shadows across the vast chamber.

Knowledge was power.

And right now, he needed to understand everything about this world.

After scanning through several shelves, his eyes landed on a massive book.

The title read:

"Celestia: A Complete History"

"This should do."

He grabbed the heavy tome—easily 1000 pages thick—and carried it to the nearest table.

As he flipped open the book, the words made perfect sense to him.

He didn't even realize until now that he was speaking and reading in an entirely different language—one that he had never learned before.

Zed paused, staring at the text.

For a brief moment, he wondered, "How do I know this language?"

But the thought passed as quickly as it came.

"Doesn't matter."

If anything, it was convenient.

He leaned back in his chair, adjusted the lamp, and began reading.

The book described the world as Celestia, a vast land divided into three great continents, four realms, and seven major races.

But out of these seven races, two were on the brink of extinction.

The Demon Race and the Dragon Race.

The reason?

The First Cataclysm.

Thousands of years ago, the Dark Lord had waged war against the Aryans—the strongest warriors of light. The Demons and Dragons had sided with him, becoming his most powerful allies.

But in the end… they lost.

As punishment, both races were hunted down—slaughtered to near extinction.

The Dragons, once considered the most powerful beings in Celestia, had vanished from history.

And those who had claimed to see them… never lived long enough to tell the tale.

The Demons, on the other hand, were still out there.

Hiding.

Despised by all, they were seen as monsters, to be killed on sight.

The Continents & Races

The book detailed the three continents and the races that inhabited them:

Remora – The north eastern continent. Home to the Elves and Giants.

Pandora – The north western continent. Dominated by the Human Race. Also, home to Forsaken Woods, where remnants of the Demon Race were rumored to be hiding.

Eldora – The southern continent. Home to Demi-Humans—beast men, fairies, and other humanoid creatures.

(Merfolk's lived under the ocean that connects these the 3 main continents .

As for the Dragons?

Their whereabouts were unknown.

Or rather, no one who had found them had ever come back alive.

A deep silence filled the room, broken only by the crackling of the fire lamp.

Zed flipped to the section about the Human Race.

It detailed how the human empire was divided into 18 states, each ruled by one of six noble families.

However, these noble families were not independent.

They answered to one supreme ruler—the King.

As Zed's eyes scanned the list of noble families, his breath hitched.

At the very top, engraved in bold, elegant script…

"House Ravenhart."

His family.

But there was little information beyond that.

"Tch. Useless."

The book barely scratched the surface. If he wanted to know more about his family's history, their influence, and their enemies… he'd have to dig deeper.

Restless, he stood up and continued searching through the shelves.

After a few minutes, his fingers brushed against a slim, leather-bound book.

The title read:

"Code of Aristocracy"

A mere 50 to 60 pages.

Zed pulled it out and glanced through the contents.

"Not what I was looking for… but still interesting."

He carried it back to the table, placed it beside the history book, and began reading.

The book outlined the structure, rules, and rights of nobility.

Nobles held absolute authority over commoners within their territories.

Only the King could overrule a noble's decree. Noble blood was sacred. Insulting or harming a noble, even accidentally, could result in execution.

Dueling was permitted among nobles, but only under strict rules.

Treason was punished by complete extermination of the bloodline.

Zed's fingers tightened around the pages.

"This world… runs on power."

After reading for nearly an hour, he shut the book and leaned back in his chair.

The lamp flickered, casting his shadow long against the bookshelves.

Everything was starting to fall into place.

His family was the strongest noble house.

The King was the only one above them.

And most importantly—power dictated everything.

If he wanted to protect Aurora and their family, he'd have to become strong.

Stronger than anyone else.

With a sigh, Zed stacked the books, ready to return them to the shelf.

His real work was only beginning

Here's the revised version with more detail on Aurora's hesitation and eventual acceptance:

As dawn broke, golden rays filtered through the towering windows of the Ravenhert estate, casting a warm glow over the lavish chambers. Aurora stirred awake, only to find the space beside her empty. A frown creased her delicate features as she pushed off the silky sheets. Where is Zed?

She hurried out of the room, her long nightgown brushing against the polished marble floor as she sought answers. Spotting a nearby maid, she quickly asked, "Where is Zed?"

The maid bowed slightly before answering, "Young Master Zed is training with Master Jaeger, my lady."

Aurora's eyes widened in shock. "Training?" she repeated, unable to hide her disbelief. Without another word, she turned on her heel and strode towards the training grounds, her mind racing.

The grand villa of the prestigious Ravenhert family came into view. It was more of a castle than a mansion, boasting towering stone walls, elegant spires, and intricate carvings that adorned its exterior. The sheer size of the estate was overwhelming, rivalling that of a royal palace.

Soon, the training grounds appeared before her—a vast open field encircled by stone walls. The air was filled with the rhythmic clashing of swords and the sharp bark of commands. At the center of it all stood Jaeger, the house's esteemed sword master.

Jaeger was a towering man in his forties, his body built like a seasoned warrior's, each scar on his arms telling a story of battle. His mere presence exuded authority, his sharp gaze enough to make even the laziest recruits straighten up. Around him, a group of young trainees moved sluggishly through their drills, their expressions dull yet obedient under the force of his commanding aura.

Then, Aurora's gaze landed on Zed.

He was sprinting across the field, his clothes drenched in sweat, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His usually carefree expression was gone—replaced by pure determination. Yet, every time he slowed, Jaeger's booming voice cut through the air.

"Move faster, young master! Do not stop until I say so!"

Aurora's brows furrowed in frustration. Without hesitation, she marched toward Jaeger, her voice sharp. "What's the meaning of this? Why are you making Zed run like this?"

Jaeger turned to her, his expression calm despite her anger. He bowed his head slightly in respect before speaking. "My lady, the young master came to me of his own will. He requested training."

Aurora's breath hitched. Zed? Training?

Her younger brother had never once taken training seriously. He was the type to skip magic lessons and nap under a tree instead. The idea of him voluntarily undergoing such gruelling training was nothing short of shocking.

For a moment, she hesitated. Her gaze flickered back to Zed, watching the way his legs trembled with exhaustion, the way he clenched his fists as if forcing himself to endure. He had every chance to stop—yet he didn't.

A strange feeling settled in her chest.

She wanted to tell him to stop, to take a break. This isn't like him. What changed? But then, she saw something different in his eyes—resolve.

Aurora exhaled softly, finally speaking, "Fine. But don't push him too hard. He's still a kid." With that, she turned away, the unease in her chest lingering.

Meanwhile, Zed, who had been pushing his limits, finally ran out of breath. His legs wobbled, and just as he was about to collapse, a firm grip caught him.

Jaeger steadied him, his voice gruff yet approving. "Good work, young master."

Here's the revised version with improved flow, comedy, and character interactions while keeping the original intent intact:

Zed, barely able to stand, felt his vision blur. His legs wobbled like jelly, his body screaming in protest. I can't... take another step...

And then—darkness.

The next thing he knew, he was swaying gently, his body bouncing with each step. His eyes fluttered open, only to find himself draped over Jaeger's broad back like a sack of potatoes.

"…Huh?" Zed mumbled; his voice groggy.

Jaeger, walking steadily through the corridors, didn't even glance back. "You're awake, young master."

Zed blinked, trying to process the situation. "Wait—when did I faint?"

"After the thirteenth lap," Jaeger answered calmly.

Zed groaned, rubbing his forehead. "Thirteen rounds… Can't believe I'm this weak."

Jaeger let out a small chuckle. "You have changed a lot, young master. I hear you lost all your previous memories."

Zed sighed. "Yeah. I can't remember anything."

A heavy silence settled between them before Jaeger spoke again, his voice quieter this time. "Young master, I am sorry… I failed to protect you from that wild animal. If I had been there with you, this wouldn't have happened."

Zed's breath hitched slightly. Wild animal?

His mind pieced things together quickly. The truth was, Prince Frey had murdered him. But somehow, he had managed to shift the blame onto a wild animal and escape punishment.

Zed's fingers curled into a fist, but his expression remained unreadable. "It's fine," he said, forcing a small smile. "I don't remember anything, so let it go."

Just as Jaeger was about to reply, Zed's eyes caught movement in the distance. A group of well-dressed men, their silk robes and expensive jewellery gleaming under the chandelier light, made their way toward the main hall.

"Who are they?" Zed asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jaeger glanced at them and sighed. "They're the gold lenders."

Zed's brow furrowed. "Gold lenders? Why are they here?"

Jaeger hesitated for a moment before answering, "The Ravenhert family… has a rather large debt."

Zed narrowed his eyes. "How much are we talking about?"

Jaeger hesitated again—clearly uncomfortable. But after a moment, he finally said, "About… one million gold coins."

For a second, Zed just stared at him. Then, he let out a long exhale. "…That's a lot of zeroes."

Jaeger nodded. "It is."

But instead of panicking, Zed remained oddly calm. "How long do we have to pay it off?"

Jaeger quickly shook his head. "You needn't worry about it, young master. Lady Aurora is handling this matter."

Zed, however, wasn't convinced. His gut told him this was something he needed to see for himself.

"Follow them," Zed ordered.

Jaeger blinked. "Young master, I don't think—"

"Follow. Them," Zed repeated, this time with a stern look.

Jaeger hesitated, his instincts telling him this was a bad idea. But in the end, duty prevailed. "As you wish," he muttered before silently tailing the gold lenders.

The only problem?

He was still piggybacking Zed.

The two of them awkwardly peeked around corners, creeping after the men like a pair of amateur spies. Zed, draped over Jaeger's back, whispered, "Walk slower! You're stomping like an elephant!"

Jaeger scowled. "I am an elephant. You're the one who fainted and refused to walk!"

They continued sneaking through the halls in the least subtle way possible—Jaeger, a massive, intimidating warrior, tiptoeing like a suspicious burglar while Zed clung to his back like an oversized toddler.

Unfortunately for them, their mission was soon compromised.

A passing maid, holding a tray of tea, stopped in her tracks and squinted at the bizarre scene before her.

Jaeger, hunched over, moving in exaggerated slow motion.

Zed, whispering nonsense into his ear.

Both of them creeping after the well-dressed men like clueless thieves.

There was a long, awkward silence. The maid blinked.

Jaeger coughed.

Zed waved weakly. "Uh… evening?"

The maid's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Then, without saying a word, she calmly turned around and walked away, muttering under her breath, I don't get paid enough for this.

Zed exhaled in relief. "That was close."

Jaeger rolled his eyes. "Young master, if you want to be stealthy, GET OFF MY BACK."

Zed grinned. "Nope. You're already carrying me—might as well make the most of it."

Jaeger groaned. "Why me…"

And with that, the most obvious spying mission in history continued.

After a few minutes of tailing the gold lenders, Zed and Jaeger finally arrived at the grand entrance of the main hall.

The sight before them was breathtaking. The massive double doors stood tall, carved from deep ebony wood, adorned with intricate golden patterns that shimmered under the chandelier light. Embedded within the carvings were gemstones of various colors, forming a majestic crest of the Ravenhert family—a raven soaring above a crimson moon. The sheer elegance of the entrance rivalled that of a royal castle's throne room.

Jaeger let out a low whistle. "They sure didn't cut costs on the door."

Zed smirked. "Maybe that's why we're in debt."

As the doors opened, revealing the main hall, their eyes were met with an awe-inspiring view. Towering marble pillars lined the vast chamber, their surfaces sculpted with the histories of past generations. A crimson carpet stretched across the polished obsidian floor, leading toward the head seat—a grand throne-like chair, though slightly less extravagant than the one in the royal palace. Chandeliers, adorned with thousands of crystals, bathed the hall in a warm golden glow. The scent of polished wood and aged parchment filled the air, adding to the aura of power and sophistication.

Zed and Jaeger quickly slipped inside, moving with as much stealth as two people their size could manage. They found cover behind one of the massive pillars, peeking out just enough to observe the situation without being noticed.

Seated near the head of the table was Aurora.

Her unease was apparent—her normally composed demeanor was visibly shaken. Her hands were clenched into fists on her lap, and her usually sharp violet eyes wavered with uncertainty. As the moneylenders approached, she forced a polite smile and greeted them.

"I hope you all had a safe journey," she said, her voice steady but lacking its usual confidence.

The man standing in the center, an older gentleman with slicked-back silver hair and a smirk that oozed arrogance, took a step forward and bowed slightly.

"Thank you for your concern, my lady," he said smoothly. "I Greyrat have come to inform you that the loan is due in one month." His smirk widened. "And yet… we have not received a single instalment in the past few years."

His words dripped with mockery, his sharp eyes watching her reaction with amusement.

Aurora felt her heart pound in her chest. The weight of responsibility crushed her shoulders, the pressure making it harder to breathe. She knew this day would come, but facing it head-on was more terrifying than she imagined.

"Well, about that… we… we…" Aurora stammered, trying to form an answer, but the words wouldn't come.

Zed, still hiding behind the pillar, clenched his fists. Damn it… she's struggling.

Meanwhile, Greyrat was thoroughly enjoying the sight of her distress. He slowly walked forward, closing the distance between them. Then, leaning down just enough for only Aurora to hear, he whispered,

"You know, my lady, you are said to be the most beautiful woman in the empire." His voice was sickeningly sweet, yet laced with something vile. "If you let me have you for one night… perhaps I might reduce your loan. I might even extend the payment period."

Silence.

Zed felt his blood turn cold.

And then—SLAP!

Aurora's hand struck Greyrat's cheek with such force that the sharp sound echoed through the hall.

Greyrat's head snapped to the side, a red imprint blooming across his pale skin. For a second, there was nothing but stunned silence. His companions—who had initially burst into laughter at the sight—immediately shut their mouths when he turned to glare at them with a murderous gaze.

Aurora, realizing what she had just done, tensed up.

What did I just do?

A wave of fear coursed through her, but she refused to back down. With a deep breath, she lowered her hand and bowed her head slightly. "…Forgive me."

Greyrat slowly turned back to face her, his smirk now completely gone. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes burned with anger.

"My lady," he said coldly, "may we know where we will be staying tonight?"

Aurora swallowed hard and quickly gestured to a nearby maid. "Escort our guests to their rooms," she ordered, her voice barely above a whisper.

The maid bowed and motioned for them to follow.

As he turned to leave, Greyrat gave Aurora one last glance, his lips curling into a sinister smile.

"May you have a great night, my lady."

With that, he walked away, his footsteps echoing through the grand hall.

Here's the revised version with improved flow, added tension, and better dialogue pacing while keeping the emotions strong.

As Greyrat stepped out of the main hall, his eyes immediately locked onto Zed and Jaeger, who were standing just outside.

Zed's expression was unreadable, but his cold, piercing stare sent a silent message. Beside him, Jaeger looked no less than a beast ready to pounce—his sharp eyes burning with barely restrained fury.

A flicker of irritation crossed Greyrat's face before he forced a polite smile and bowed.

"My lord, I hear you've recovered from your injury. I am truly glad to see—"

Before he could finish, Zed turned on his heel and walked away, Jaeger following suit without sparing him a glance.

Greyrat stood frozen for a moment. His forced smile twitched before vanishing completely, replaced by a deep scowl. His fingers clenched into fists, his jaw tightening as he watched their backs disappear down the corridor.

"That brat…" he muttered, his voice dripping with venom.

His companions wisely stayed silent as they made their way to their assigned rooms.

The moment Greyrat stepped inside his chamber and slammed the door shut, his restrained rage finally erupted.

"That bitch!" he roared, his voice echoing in the lavishly decorated room. He kicked over a chair, sending it crashing into the wall. "How dare she hit me?! She should be grateful that our family lent them gold when they were on the verge of ruin!"

He paced furiously, his boots stomping against the marble floor. His face twisted in anger as he recalled Aurora's cold slap, the burning sensation still fresh on his cheek.

"And that brat… That filthy, arrogant brat!" He slammed his fist against the table, knocking over a porcelain vase. "How dare he ignore me?!"

His breath came out in sharp huffs, his chest heaving with fury.

"Oi, John! Get me some rum. I need to relax."

John, one of his attendants, quickly bowed and left the room.

Only Greyrat and one other person remained inside—his younger brother, Larry.

Larry, a man with a lean build and softer features, let out a tired sigh before stepping closer. "Brother… you should calm down. Let's be honest, it was your own fault for saying something so disgusting to Lady Aurora."

Greyrat's eye twitched dangerously. He turned to Larry, his face dark with barely contained rage.

"Larry…" His voice was eerily calm, but his clenched jaw and the way his fingers twitched betrayed his fury. "I don't want to kill my own brother… so get out before I change my mind."

Larry sighed again but didn't argue. He had seen this side of his brother too many times before.

"…Fine." He turned and walked out, closing the door behind him.

A heavy silence filled the room.

Minutes later, John returned, carrying a small barrel. He set it down and quickly poured a glass of dark amber rum before handing it to Greyrat.

Greyrat snatched the glass from his hand and downed it in one gulp. The sharp burn of alcohol did nothing to calm the storm inside him.

His grip tightened around the glass as his lips curled into a snarl.

"I'll make her pay."

The words slipped from his mouth like a cursed chant.

Over and over, he muttered the same thing.

"I'll make her pay… I'll make her pay…"

And as night fell over the Ravenhert estate, Greyrat's hatred festered, growing darker with every passing second.

Midnight cast its eerie silence over the Ravenhert estate. Inside Aurora's chamber, a grand yet delicate sanctuary, a soft candle flickered, casting warm hues on the embroidered silk curtains that framed the bed. The faint scent of lavender lingered in the air, blending with the crisp night breeze.

Aurora lay wrapped in a thin nightgown of deep blue, the fabric clinging gently to her form. It was a gift from her mother—woven from the finest silk, decorated with silver-threaded patterns that shimmered under the moonlight.

A sudden gust of wind howled through the room, forcing the windows wide open. The chill seeped in, making her shiver as her eyes fluttered open.

The room was dark.

The faint light of the moon filtered through the window, illuminating a shadowy figure seated at the wooden table in front of her.

A man.

Aurora's breath hitched in her throat as the moonlight bathed his features—Greyrat. His disheveled hair clung to his sweat-drenched forehead, his bloodshot eyes gleaming with intoxication. He held a large jar of rum in one hand, tilting it lazily to his lips before letting out a slow, eerie chuckle.

His lips curled into a malicious smirk.

"Good evening, my lady," he slurred, his voice thick with alcohol. "Missed me?"

Aurora's pulse pounded against her ribs. Something was wrong—terribly wrong. Her fingers instinctively reached for the bell rope to call the guards, but before she could move—

Her gaze shifted to the floor.

Her personal maid lay sprawled there, lifeless. Blood pooled beneath her, her once bright eyes now empty.

Aurora's scream barely left her lips before Greyrat slammed the empty jar onto the table. With the agility of a madman, he leaped onto the bed, reaching for her with greedy hands.

She shrieked and rolled away just in time, but the fabric of her nightgown tore in his grasp. The cold air bit at her exposed skin as she scrambled back, pressing against the headboard, hugging herself tightly like a snail retreating into its shell.

Greyrat, panting, crawled towards her, his breath reeking of alcohol.

"Come now… Let me see your beautiful body, my lady."

Aurora's hands trembled as she tried to push herself further into the headboard, but there was nowhere left to run.

Just then—

BANG!

The heavy wooden doors burst open.

A towering figure stepped inside.

Jaeger.

His expression was unreadable, but his presence alone was enough to suck the air from the room. His eyes, colder than steel, locked onto Greyrat, his fingers flexing in restrained fury.

Greyrat froze. His drunken haze cleared slightly as a sense of unease crept into his gut.

'John should be outside,' he thought, swallowing dryly. 'Did something happen?'

Before he could process the situation—

Another figure entered.

Zed.

Greyrat's breath hitched.

The young master stood in the doorway, his silhouette bathed in the moon's glow. His once pristine clothes were stained crimson, and in his left hand—

He carried a severed head.

John's severed head.

With an effortless flick of his wrist, Zed tossed the head forward. It rolled across the floor, stopping at Greyrat's feet.

The lifeless eyes of his former attendant stared up at him, frozen in shock. The moonlight illuminated every gruesome detail—the torn flesh, the exposed veins, the blood dripping from the ragged cut.

Greyrat's stomach churned violently.

He vomited.

He heaved out everything he had consumed that night—the alcohol, the food, the bile of his own fear. His hands shook as he wiped his mouth, his gaze snapping back to Zed.

But the boy did not speak.

He simply walked forward.

His sword, slick with fresh blood, dragged against the marble floor, leaving a dark crimson trail behind him. The chilling screech of steel echoed through the room, the sound alone making Greyrat's knees tremble.

"No… No, wait…!" Greyrat's instincts screamed at him to run, but fear had rooted him in place.

Desperately, he reached for the dagger at his belt, his fingers fumbling against the leather strap.

Zed didn't stop.

Didn't falter.

Didn't blink.

His gaze, void of emotion, remained locked onto Greyrat as he approached—unhurried, inevitable.

With a drunken, terrified yell, Greyrat lunged.

Zed sidestepped.

A cold whistle of air.

Then—

SCHLICK.

Greyrat stumbled.

For a moment, nothing seemed to happen.

Then his right arm fell.

A severed limb—his own—lay on the floor, fingers still curled around the dagger.

The pain didn't register immediately. He stared at the stump where his arm used to be, blood gushing out in violent spurts.

Then the agony hit.

A wretched scream tore from his throat as he staggered backward, clutching at the bleeding wound.

Zed didn't stop.

He stepped past Greyrat, past the severed hand, and made his way toward the bed.

Zed let out a slow breath as the blood-dripping sword in his hand tilted downward. The weight of the moment pressed upon him, but his focus remained sharp.

He turned to Aurora, who was still trembling in shock, her arms wrapped around herself, eyes wide with horror. The torn fabric of her nightgown barely covered her quivering form.

With a silent resolve, Zed shrugged off his bloodstained shirt and gently draped it over her shoulders. The warmth of the fabric brought her back to reality, her shaking fingers clutching at it as if it were a lifeline.

Zed's voice was calm yet filled with undeniable tenderness.

"You are safe now, sister. Your brother is here."

Aurora's breath hitched. Her little brother—the one who had once been weak, who had always run from responsibility, who had spent his days avoiding training—stood before her, his body battered yet unyielding.

Greyrat, writhing on the cold floor, clutched at the bleeding stump where his arm had once been. Pain contorted his face as he let out a strangled, agonized scream. His mind raced in desperation, grasping for anything—anyone—that could save him.

Through gritted teeth, he spat out his last gamble.

"Y-You brat… You'll pay for this…!" He gasped between labored breaths. "I am… a very good friend of Prince Frey! If he gets word of this—if he hears that you dared to cut off my arm—he will make you pay! You… You have no idea what you've done!"

The threat hung in the air.

And then—

The room changed.

The temperature dropped.

A pressure filled the space—dense, suffocating, unnatural.

The flickering candlelight trembled. The very air itself seemed to shudder.

This was no ordinary killing intent. This was power—a raw, primal force unlike anything Greyrat had ever encountered.

It did not belong to Jaeger.

It did not belong to any knight.

It radiated from the young boy standing in the middle of the room—the same boy who had been bedridden for a year, the boy no one had taken seriously.

Zed.

Jaeger took an involuntary step back, his battle-hardened instincts screaming at him. His fingers twitched, his breath caught in his throat.

His voice barely escaped his lips.

"Rh-Rhu Core Manifestation…?"

A phenomenon so rare that even the most elite knights trained for decades without ever achieving it.

Greyrat's eyes widened in sheer disbelief.

"Impossible…! This can't be happening! He's just a kid—just nine years old!"

His voice cracked, terror finally settling in.

Zed, unaffected by the growing panic in the room, turned and lifted Aurora into his arms. She had stopped shivering—not out of comfort, but because even she was paralyzed by the overwhelming force radiating from her little brother.

Zed's voice was quiet but held the weight of an unshakable command.

"Jaeger, take my sister out of this room. And send in Greyrat's brother."

Jaeger hesitated for only a moment before nodding. He scooped Aurora into his arms and swiftly left the room, his mind still reeling at what he had just witnessed.

The heavy doors creaked shut behind him.

The room fell silent.

Only Greyrat and Zed remained.

Greyrat swallowed, sweat trickling down his face. His remaining hand clawed at the ground as he tried to push himself back.

Zed's gaze was void of emotion, his golden eyes reflecting only an abyss of cold indifference.

"You know…" he spoke at last, his voice carrying an unsettling calm.

"I was going to spare you. Maybe just cut off a few limbs to make sure you never touched another woman again. But then—"

His grip on his sword tightened.

"You had to mention that one person's name. The one name I didn't want to hear."

The tension in the room reached its breaking point.

Zed pulled his sword upward.

The blade, slick with blood, caught the dim candlelight, casting a haunting reflection onto Greyrat's face.

The wounded man's breath came in ragged gasps, panic overtaking his senses. His pupils shrank as his body screamed at him to run, to fight—to do something!

But his body refused to move.

CLANK.

The blade scraped against the marble as Zed took another step forward, his every movement deliberate.

Greyrat whimpered. His mouth opened, but no words came out.

The fear was too much.

The weight of death pressed down on him.

Then—

The door creaked open again.

Larry, Greyrat's younger brother, walked in. His polished shoes stepped over a blood trail in the hall, his eyes scanning the scene with mild irritation.

And then—

His gaze fell to the severed head lying near the entrance.

John's lifeless eyes stared up at him, mouth agape, the final expression frozen in terror.

Blood soaked the floor.

The suffocating stench of iron filled his lungs.

Larry's breath caught.

He followed the blood trail—leading from the door to the center of the room.

His brother, Greyrat, was sprawled on the floor, his right arm missing, his face contorted in unimaginable horror.

And in front of him—

A child.

A mere boy, no older than nine, standing over him with a blood-drenched sword, the blade trembling as if it were eager to claim another life.

A pair of blue eyes flicked toward him.

Cold. Emotionless. Inhuman.

Larry's body froze.

For the first time in his life, a feeling unlike any other took hold of him.

Terror.

True, absolute terror.

This was no ordinary child.

This was a monster.

And he had just walked into its den.