Chapter 17 - Moving Forward
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"Haha... Sister, it seems you're having fun there, that's good."
Seeing the long letter given by his sister, Alex smiled warmly and folded it back. He put the letter on his study desk, and calmly leaned back, closing his eyes. 'Good... I mustn't fall behind either; in this world, I must become strong enough to protect all precious things.'
Seeing the letter from Aurelia and the life she was experiencing at the academy, Alex's decision remained unchanged. His purpose grew stronger: indeed, in this world, where various races besides humans live side by side, staring sharply at each other, with various wars occurring to fight for territory and monster invasions, a peaceful life like the one he once had on Earth cannot be achieved by simply living life as usual. Yes, all of that requires skills. Skills to live, and also to defend oneself.
"I can sleep peacefully today," Alex said, with the certainty that his sister was fine out there, even with some trivial things she mentioned, like confessions of love from students there? I guess that's natural; in fact, Alex had already predicted that it would definitely happen, no matter what. What else can be done, right? His sister does have a nature and behavior that can be said to be somewhat rough for a woman, but on the other hand, her beauty cannot be disregarded. Her long red hair, reaching her waist, seemed to burn like fire, and her delicate face and sharp eyes like an eagle also made her look like a goddess of war herself. It's natural for men, especially in their dream-filled teenage years, to feel fondness for her and confess. Well... Although for some reason, Alex was still a bit annoyed by it. But apart from that, everything was indeed going well.
"Okay, time to sleep." Seeing that the bright moon had risen, its light piercing his room window, he immediately closed the window curtains and walked towards his large bed. In his pajamas, he lay down, and 3 seconds later, he fell into a deep sleep.
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In the morning, performing his morning training routine, Alex was seen sweating in the middle of the empty training area. His mentor, Instructor Orvin, seemed satisfied seeing the progress that had occurred in the young master before him. Currently, Alex was in circle 2 in terms of swordsmanship. Which by the standards of a child his age, this could be said to be extraordinary, or even miraculous. A knight usually has a stable first circle, while to become a knight commander of 100 men, one needs strength in circle 2, which the average knight achieves at the age of 30. His body, which used to look small, now seemed to be changing. His height also grew to 167 cm at this age; he saw that his student had grown well. Unconsciously, the most stoic man there had ever been, he smiled.
"1000!" After swinging his sword for the thousandth time, Alex stopped and rested to cool down his body. Sitting beside the training area, he asked his Master, "Teacher, why are we finishing early today?"
Orvin, who was standing next to him, looking at the empty area in the training ground, replied, "Your father called you. Perhaps he has something important to say."
"I see, alright. I'll go after I clean up, thank you for today's lesson, teacher."
"Stay focused. Consistency is the key to all hard work that yields success; you've trained well today. Go take a bath, you stink."
"Hahaha, alright, alright, I'll go now, teacher." Orvin nodded slowly. He watched Alex's back as he walked away, looking larger than usual.
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"Father called me," Alex thought. His steps felt light in the quiet palace corridor, where his footsteps echoed on the cold marble floor. The morning sun, which had been shining brightly in the training yard, was now dimmed by the shadows of the long hallways, creating a more serious atmosphere. There was a kind of anticipation dancing in his chest—a feeling like a violin string that had just been plucked, waiting for the next note. Since Aurelia's departure, Alex's routine had indeed become stricter, full of direct implementation of all the lessons he received. So, a summons from Duke Argwager, his father, must not be a trivial matter.
He arrived in front of his father's study door. The dark oak door loomed tall, carved with the Argwager family crest—a shield with a griffin spreading its wings. Alex knocked twice, softly but firmly.
"Come in," his father's voice echoed from within, heavy yet calm, like an echo from an old well. Alex pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was enveloped in a strange tranquility, as if time moved slower there. Bookshelves were filled with thick volumes that smelled of history and wisdom, a large desk in the middle of the room was cluttered with rolled maps and quill pens, and a fireplace in one corner radiated a gentle warmth. However, beneath all that familiarity, there was a subtle tension hanging in the air, like the scent of fresh ink.
Alex's father, Duke Argwager, sat behind the desk. His black hair, usually neatly combed, was slightly disheveled, indicating he had been lost in thought for a long time. His sharp eyes, like obsidian stone, were fixed on a piece of parchment in his hand. The raven feather quill moved quickly across the paper, its strokes precise and neat, as if every word was an engraving that could not be retracted.
"Sit down, Alex," his father said without looking up from his writing. "I'll be done soon." Alex nodded slowly and pulled up an armchair across the table. He sat upright, observing his father. Even though he was 13 years old, and had passed difficult tests, both physical and magical, and had even commanded his own troops, he still felt there was a gap between himself and his father—a distance that could only be filled by experience. His father was a strong, wise, and responsible figure. A first pillar in a storm, as Lugen had once said.
Several minutes passed in silence. Only the scratching of the pen and the soft hiss from the fireplace filled the room. Alex used that time to observe. On the wall, several old swords, which might have once belonged to his ancestors, hung, and in the corner of the room, a globe displaying a complex world map, with seven large continents and the mysterious Central Tower at its heart. His father had taught him that being a leader also meant understanding the world, not just his own territory.
Finally, his father's pen stopped. He carefully put the pen down, as if afraid to disturb the silence. Then, he looked up, his eyes meeting Alex's. There was something different there—not just fatigue, but also profound determination. His father rose from his chair, slowly walking towards the large window overlooking the palace's backyard. Thin snow still covered the trees, and the morning sunlight reflected off its surface, creating a cold, silvery glint. Alex's father faced outwards, as if speaking to the view there, not to Alex.
"This world, Alex," his father began, his voice calm but every word carrying its own weight, like a stone dropped into a well. "It's filled with unseen darkness. Not just monsters roaring in the valley, or enemies coming with swords in hand. There's another kind of darkness. More cunning. More silent." Alex listened. He knew his father wasn't talking about ordinary Class D or C monsters. "The territory to our east, under the protection of the Blackwood Family," his father continued. "They are our vassals, loyal for centuries. But lately, problems have emerged there. Something unusual."
A brief pause. Alex's father sighed, a thin wisp of steam escaping his lips. "Mysterious murders. They started three weeks ago. Initially one or two cases, easily mistaken for accidents or bandit attacks. But now, the number is increasing. No traces. No witnesses. The victims... they are found without any physical wounds. As if only their souls were plucked out." His father's monologue continued, his voice filled with a mix of worry and firmness. "The mages there couldn't find any traces of magic. The knights found no signs of battle. This isn't the work of bandits, and it's not ordinary monsters. This is something else. Something more... subtle." Alex remembered Elaira's lesson about subtle magic, which leaves deep wounds. He also remembered Lugen's words about how strength isn't the sole determinant of a kingdom's fate, but trust, built with sacrifice. This was a real test of trust.
"They asked for our help," his father said, finally turning to Alex. His eyes, though tired, were full of expectation. "And I'm sending you."
Alex frowned. "Me? Alone?" His father nodded. "This letter I just wrote is the official order for them. It also states that you have full authority there to investigate and resolve this problem. Lugen has other duties. Orvin too. And Elaira... she must be on standby at the magic tower." A wave of shock hit Alex. This was the first time he had been assigned alone. Until now, Lugen was always by his side when commanding troops, or Elaira during magic lessons, or Orvin during sword training. Even Aurelia was always a shadow following him everywhere. This was uncharted territory—without a safety net, without companions, and without direct guidance.
In his head, a clamorous monologue. 'This is it. The real test. No longer about surviving physical attacks, or uniting magic elements in a tower, or leading troops in a clear battle. This is something silent, mysterious. This is the first task where I truly have to rely on myself. Not just as Alex Argwager, Duke's heir, but as an individual who must find answers and stop this atrocity.' The feeling was strange. A mixture of nervousness, anticipation, and burning excitement. Like twilight slowly turning into night, with the promise of stars to appear. This was an opportunity. An opportunity to test all the lessons he learned from Orvin about precision, from Elaira about understanding magic's reality, and from Lugen about statesmanship and the responsibility of a leader. This was an essential step forward.
"This is a good new experience," Alex thought to himself, trying to control his pulse. I must complete it well. Prove that I indeed deserve to bring light to my future home, and protect those I love. He recalled his dream of having a large family and the desire to be the first pillar in a storm. If he wanted to realize that, he had to be able to face this unseen darkness alone. His father returned to the desk, picking up the rolled letter he had just written. He looked at Alex, a faint smile on his lips—a smile Alex rarely saw.
"Departure this afternoon," his father said, handing him the rolled letter. "The carriage is ready. You will go alone. Trust your instincts, Alex. And remember everything you have learned." Alex took the letter, gripping it tightly. Warm from his father's touch, as if carrying a bit of his strength and calmness. He nodded. "I understand, Father. I will complete this task." Duke Argwager returned the nod, his eyes radiating deep pride.
Alex smiled. A comforting irony. He turned and stepped out of the study, leaving behind the tranquility enveloped in expectation. Afternoon would come, and with it, a new adventure yet unwritten.