"Young Master Seven, the Fourth Young Master asked for your presence."
The voice belonged to a knight standing at the entrance of the roofed training ground.
Seven glanced sideways.
It was the same knight from the mercenary hall in the Village of Exile. Back then, the man asked the whereabouts of the missing two knights.
|| Basic Information ||
|| Character: Leo Venti ||
|| Age: 31 ||
|| Talent: Basic Swordsmanship ||
The knight's eyes briefly flicked between Seven and Lythian, who was still slumped on the ground nearby and immediately recognized them.
'Brother, my ass…'
The knight muttered inwardly when he remembered what Lythian said back in that hall.
Still, he did not voice out his thoughts. If anything, he needed to compose himself as he figured Lythian only said that to keep Seven's identity hidden in that den of drunkards and fools.
"Young Master Seven, the Fourth Young—"
"Get lost."
"...Pardon?"
Seven rolled his shoulder and leaned back on the bench beside the weapon rack, lifting one leg lazily to rest on his knee.
Though in fact, he was just too exhausted to care.
"Can't you see I'm in the middle of training?"
His tone was almost bored like he could not be bothered to sit up straight, let alone entertain a summons from Atreus, given that he already got what he wanted from him.
That calculating bastard must have been watching the last few days of training and now thought it was time to 'talk.'
"Tell him I don't give a fudge."
But the knight did not leave.
Instead, he glanced at Lythian still groaning in pain and Seven.
'Is this even… training…?'
Again, as much as he wanted to ask it, he forced his mouth to keep those words and only utter the message he was ordered to deliver.
"Please stop this nonsense, Young Master Seven. The reason for this summon concerns the Archduke, hence Young Master Atreus is greatly expecting your presence."
"It doesn't concern me."
"The Archduke has returned."
Seven flinched. His foot slipped off his knee and dropped to the floor.
"...What did you just—"
"Yes. The Archduke has returned, Young Master Seven."
"...?!"
Those words were enough to send a chill down Seven's spine. He rubbed the corner of his eye with one knuckle as if trying to wipe away a thought.
'The Archduke…'
He thought.
That could only mean one thing: the timeline was catching up.
The Archduke was supposed to be dying now. Or at least, close to it. Which meant he did not have much time left.
Which meant…
Haah…
Seven took a deep breath and stood up.
"Lead the way."
The knight stepped aside, making way for Seven and obeying the command.
Even if Seven spoke rudely, it would still be disrespectful for a knight to walk ahead of the young lords of the duchy.
After all, they were not simply the young lords, but ones that may lead the future duchy itself.
Step.
After two minutes of walking, they arrived at the entrance of the dining hall.
Seven initially headed toward the throne hall as it was the place where the Archduke died as mentioned in the novel, but the knight had gently suggested this route instead.
Creak.
He opened the door.
The knight gave a small bow and gestured for him to enter.
A maid walked over without delay and pulled out the chair across from Atreus, then stepped back to stand by the wall with her hands folded in front of her.
Scanning the dining room, there was a long table, the flickering candles, the neatly arranged plates, and finally, his brother: Atreus.
Atreus was already seated on the middle seat— Archduke's seat— with his arms resting lightly on the table, back straight, and chin slightly lifted.
There was a glass of wine in front of him and he was looking directly at Seven with the kind of expression as if he had been sitting there for hours and could wait for hours more.
Step.
Seven walked in and pulled out another seat, not the one the maid pulled out for him.
Atreus smiled.
"You must've been hungry, youngest. Eat your fill."
Seven looked down at the empty plate in front of him and another plate filled with square-like food like tofu.
"What is it?"
"Hmm? Is the food perhaps not to your liking?"
Atreus raised a hand toward the maid by the door.
"Bring another dish for—"
"What is it about Father?"
Seven forked a piece of tofu on the plate before him.
Atreus's hand paused midway to summoning the maid. His smile did not falter. If anything, it only seemed to stretch.
"Straight to the heart, as always…"
Slowly, Atreus folded his fingers together.
"You were never the appetizer type, were you?"
"Fudge off."
Atreus laughed.
"Ah, that tongue. If we ever run out of swords, I'll simply hand you over to the frontlines and let you talk through enemy morale."
"..."
Seven did not reply.
Atreus reached toward the wine glass in front of him, gave it a light swirl, and took a sip. Then, as if remembering something trivial, he gestured with a slight tilt of his head.
"Very well. If it's bluntness you prefer, let me offer something in return: a seat at the Academy."
Seven stopped chewing.
Atreus smiled again.
"Yes, I'm aware the deadline has passed. But don't worry about the examination process. They owe me a—"
"I didn't say I wanted to go."
Seven forked another piece, trying to hide his interest. In all honesty, the offer was not that bad— if only he did not have an invitation letter that was meant for Eden.
"No."
Atreus agreed, setting down his glass.
"But you need to.
"A Hart with no credentials is just a walking sword, and even those rust eventually. Besides…
"You need somewhere respectable to parade that biting charm of yours."
"...You talk like you're doing me a favor."
"I am."
Atreus reached for his wine again but only tapped a finger on the glass gently.
"Let's not pretend, youngest.
"The Archduke won't live forever. And you don't want to keep playing soldier in empty yards, bruising knuckles against that mutt slave of yours.
"All you need is to make an oath with me. That no matter what happens, you'll stand beside me and not…
"Eden."
Seven closed his eyes and thought,
'Figures…'
It was nothing about him, but Eden.
Atreus was again talented at everything and probably the smartest of his generation. He could lecture a council of scholars into silence, dictate a battalion with a glance.
But.
Whenever Eden entered the conversation, that logic vanished.
Also, no matter how polished the offer looked such as credentials, legitimacy, a future, the price reeked of nothing but chains.
The price that Seven hated.
"No. I don't—"
"Don't be too hasty, youngest. Hmm... maybe think about it properly? You don't really need to answer right now."
"I—"
Knock.
The doors creaked open.
A knight stepped in, hesitating as both brothers turned to look at him.
"Apologies for the interruption, Young Masters."
The knight said with a formal bow, then cleared his throat.
"But this could not wait. There's… a student from the Academy."
Another figure stepped in. A young man in an Academy uniform, crisp and lined with silver trim. He walked briskly, nodded, and handed a sealed envelope to the knight, who passed it across the table to Seven.
"He insisted on delivering a letter personally and said it was addressed to Young Master Seven from the current Headmaster herself."
Atreus's gaze sharpened.
For a second, the faintest flicker of irritation passed through his eyes. Still, he did not speak immediately but simply gestured and allowed the delivery.
Atreus glanced at the letter.
"Well. That's rather timely."
The appearance of it alone said that it was an invitation letter, judging from the three seals stamped on it: kingdom crest, academy crest, and the council.
Atreus waved a hand with mock magnanimity.
Seven turned the letter in his hand but did not open it yet and just laid the envelope flat on the table.
Right after, the knight escorted the student out.
Creak.
The door closed.
"Regardless, I meant what I said."
Atreus added.
"Father has been gone far too long. He's never left without notice before, and certainly not without designating someone to act in his stead.
"If he doesn't return, there will be a shift. So I… the only child eligible to step onto the throne, offers you a simple deal, yet what stops you to—"
The same knight entered again, but his complexion paler than earlier.
"Forgive the intrusion again, Young Masters, but I was ordered to report at once."
Atreus narrowed his eyes.
"This had better be—"
"The Archduke has returned. And he has asked for the presence of the youngest. Immediately."
"...?!"
Silence followed.
Atreus's expression froze. Not in shock, but in calculation. His brows did not furrow. His breath did not catch.
Only his gaze sharpened, like a predator reconsidering its trap.
Seven slowly stood, taking the unopened letter with him.
"Youngest."
Atreus said, but Seven did not stop.
Step. Step.
Creak.
The door closed.
Inside, Atreus lifted the wine glass but still did not drink. He just stared into the swirling red surface and watched the candlelight fracture inside it.
And.
Shatter!
In an instant, a violent blue zaen erupted from his body and shattered every glass present inside the room.
Atreus muttered,
"...I suppose that's your answer."