T-That's… a Soul Blade

Later that night, a grand banquet was held in honor of Sir Jaeger. The somber air of the ceremony had lifted, replaced by an atmosphere of luxury and excess. The nobles who had mourned in black now adorned themselves in opulent attire—silks embroidered with gold, flowing gowns lined with rare jewels, and tailored coats that flaunted their wealth. Laughter and chatter filled the grand hall, the clinking of crystal glasses harmonizing with the soft music played by a live orchestra.

Lady Aurora moved gracefully through the crowd, offering polite greetings and exchanging pleasantries. Despite her composed demeanor, fatigue lingered in her eyes. Behind her stood Copy One, ever-vigilant, dressed in a sleek black tuxedo. The only thing that set him apart from the noblemen was the crimson Asura skull mask obscuring his face.

Many guests cast wary glances his way, their expressions laced with discomfort and silent judgment. He was an enigma, an unsettling presence amidst the extravagance. But Copy One remained indifferent, his duty clear—protect Aurora at all costs.

Elsewhere, Zander had effortlessly assumed the role of head of house staff. In mere hours, he commanded the butlers and maids as though he had served the Ravenhart estate for years. Every detail, from the placement of fine silverware to the seamless flow of service, was under his meticulous watch.

After ensuring all was in order, Zander approached Aurora, a glass of champagne in hand. Bowing slightly, he handed it to her and whispered, "All the guests have arrived. Everything is proceeding smoothly."

Aurora, exhausted from the long day, finally allowed herself to sit. Copy One, ever attentive, had already pulled out a chair for her.

As she sipped her champagne, she spoke softly, almost to herself, "Are you both my brother's copies?"

Zander placed a hand over his chest and inclined his head in a respectful bow. "Yes. We are here to serve you. Just tell us what you need."

Aurora shook her head, a small, tired smile touching her lips. "No… You've already done more than enough. You took care of this entire event as if it was nothing. That's more than I could have asked for."

Zander said nothing, only standing tall beside her as the night continued.

As Aurora sat, sipping her champagne and conversing with Zander, a nobleman approached her with a courteous bow.

"Lady Aurora, may I have this dance?"

She offered him a polite yet firm shake of her head. "I appreciate the offer, but I must decline."

The noble nodded in understanding and stepped away.

Yet, one after another, more men followed, each hoping for the honor of a dance. Each time, Aurora declined, exhaustion weighing heavily on her. The continuous interruptions began to fray her patience.

Then, among the murmuring crowd, Jimmy Laverick stepped forward.

The eldest son of House Laverick, seventeen years old, blond-haired, and green-eyed, he was undeniably striking. Girls across the hall stole glances at him, their admiration barely concealed. Yet, despite the many eyes longing for his attention, he walked straight toward Aurora.

With a charming smile, he extended his hand. "Lady Aurora, may I have the honor of a dance?"

Irritated by the relentless requests, Aurora, without even glancing up, dismissed him as she had all the others. "No."

A ripple of laughter spread through the crowd. Giggles and hushed whispers echoed across the banquet hall.

Jimmy's smile faltered. Embarrassment flushed his face as the nobles smirked at his rejection. His hands clenched into fists. The murmurs only grew louder, mocking.

His irritation flared.

Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed Aurora's hand, attempting to pull her toward the dance floor.

Before he could move an inch—

Schiiing!

A cold blue blade was suddenly at his throat. Vasuki, sharp and gleaming under the chandeliers, was pressed so close that a single movement would mean death.

Jimmy froze.

The weight of an overwhelming, suffocating pressure bore down on him. His knees nearly buckled as he felt Copy One's lethal presence looming over him.

The masked protector stood firm, his grip unwavering, Vasuki humming with barely restrained power. His posture was relaxed, but his intent was clear—one wrong move, and Jimmy wouldn't live to regret it.

Only then did Aurora finally look up.

Her gaze flickered between Jimmy, now pale with fear, and Copy One, who had moved in an instant, his blade already at her would-be dance partner's throat.

The laughter in the room had vanished. The air had turned cold.

No one dared to move.

The hall was silent. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut.

Then—

Crash!

A nobleman's hand trembled, his grip failing as his crystal glass shattered against the marble floor. The sound echoed through the hushed banquet hall.

His voice, barely above a whisper yet carrying the weight of sheer disbelief, broke the silence.

"T-That's… a Soul Blade."

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.

Eyes widened. Mouths fell slightly open. Murmurs erupted like wildfire.

A Soul Blade—a weapon of legend, one that could only be wielded by those who had forged an unbreakable bond with the essence of their very soul. It was rare, nearly mythical. And yet, here it was, gleaming in the hands of the masked guardian.

Copy One did not move.

His grip on Vasuki remained steady, the blade unwavering at Jimmy's throat. Though his posture was composed, the sheer lethal energy emanating from him sent shivers down the spines of even the most battle-hardened warriors in the room.

Jimmy, now realizing just how close to death he was, swallowed hard. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he barely dared to breathe.

Aurora, finally piecing together what had happened, sighed softly—not in fear, but in quiet exasperation.

"body guard ." Her voice was calm but firm.

The masked figure tilted his head slightly, acknowledging her command but not lowering his blade just yet.

"Let him go."

A long, agonizing second passed.

Then, without a word, Copy One withdrew Vasuki, its blue glow fading as it returned to its dormant state.

Jimmy stumbled back, gasping for air he hadn't realized he was holding. He had never been humiliated like this in his life. His face burned with shame, but fear kept his tongue in check.

The crowd still whispered, still awestruck.

Just as the tension in the hall reached its peak, Zander stepped forward.

With a composed expression, he placed a hand on Copy One's shoulder, his calm demeanor acting as a stabilizing force. The crowd, still murmuring from the shock of seeing a Soul Blade, slowly began to settle.

But Jimmy Laverick, still fuming from his humiliation, wasn't done.

He turned sharply to Copy One, his voice laced with fury.

"Do you even know on whom you've raised your sword?"

Copy One tilted his head slightly. His response was simple, cold, and unwavering.

"No. And I don't care."

A wave of laughter erupted from some of the nobles at Copy One's blunt reply. Others smirked, amused at Jimmy's mounting frustration.

Zander, however, felt his irritation rise. This could lead to an unnecessary conflict. He sighed inwardly and stepped in, attempting to de-escalate.

"Lord Jimmy," he spoke in his usual smooth tone, "there's no need for this to escalate. It was merely a misunderstanding."

But Jimmy was too blinded by anger to listen.

He turned his venom towards Aurora.

"You! How dare you reject my dance?" His voice rang through the hall, filled with wounded pride. "Do you even know how many people would kill for a chance to dance with me?"

Aurora, who had been patient until now, narrowed her eyes.

Jimmy wasn't done. His frustration spilled over into insults, his voice dripping with contempt.

"Your house—Ravenhart—is nothing. You put on airs, but all of you are just—"

"Enough."

Aurora's voice cut through his rant like a blade.

The hall fell silent once more.

With an air of unshakable authority, she straightened her posture and looked him directly in the eye.

"You've overstayed your welcome. Leave."

Jimmy scoffed. "And if I don't?"

Zander's ever-present smile vanished.

His irritation showed in the sharpness of his voice as he stepped forward. "Sir, our Lady has asked you to leave. So, would you please?"

The nobles around them held their breath.

Jimmy, unwilling to back down, sneered at Zander. "You're just a butler. You should act like one."

With that final insult, he turned and stormed out of the hall.

But just as he crossed the threshold—

Zander's expression remained neutral, but inside, his mind reached out to Copy One.

"Can you?"

Without hesitation, Copy One responded, "I'm already on it."

And with that, the masked guardian slipped away from the hall, melting into the shadows.

Zander turned back to the guests, clapping his hands lightly.

"Apologies for the disturbance. Please, enjoy the rest of the evening."

With practiced ease, he guided the atmosphere back to normal, ensuring that the nobles quickly moved on, returning to their conversations, music, and wine.

But behind the scenes, the real consequences of tonight had only just begun.