Step.
In the corridor of the mansion, nothing could be heard but footsteps of both the knight and Seven heading towards the throne room.
Though Seven was the one leading the way.
Step.
With another turn, he finally stood just outside the throne hall with its massive door wide open, revealing three figures inside.
Archduke.
Eden.
The wolf-masked abbadon.
Seven gulped, trying to keep his composure steady from the violent zaen swirling and gushing out from those three bodies, forming monstrous energy forms.
He slowly looked at the Archduke and frowned.
"..."
The Archduke looked completely healthy, not like someone who had just fought, except for the bandages on his body.
The knight next to Seven bowed.
"Please proceed at once, Young Master Seven. The Archduke's condition worsens with each passing second. I fear he has little time remaining."
"...Sure."
Seven took a hesitant step forward.
But.
He immediately stopped as something was off.
A knight under Atreus should not have known such details about the Archduke's health.
Thus he turned around.
But just as he did, the knight was no longer there. In the same spot, same posture, stood the wolf-masked Abbadon as if he was there the entire time.
He turned again towards the throne to confirm, and the wolf-masked abaddon was not there but just the Archduke and Eden.
"What troubles you, Young Master Seven? Please, move forward."
Even the voice was identical.
"...Fudge."
Seven muttered and stepped forward.
Step.
Creakkkk~ Thud!
The massive door closed behind him, but he did not look back.
Step.
He walked straight ahead with eyes fixed on the polished floor. His face was pale and his body was trembling slightly under the crushing pressure of the zaen as he drew closer.
Step. Step.
He stopped at the edge of the red mat, now possibly about seven meters from the throne.
Seven raised his right hand to his chest and knelt.
"The Youngest greets the Archduke."
"..."
There was no response.
Instead, Archduke Ethan released another massive and violent wave of zaen that was heavier and harsher than before.
Seven coughed blood, but stayed kneeling.
'Fudge. Did I do something wrong?'
He thought.
This was his first time seeing the Archduke, his father, in person.
Even in the novel, Ethan Hart had rarely appeared. He was the kind of man people bowed to not out of custom, but because standing in front of him felt like tempting death.
Still, Seven stayed kneeling with palm pressed firmly to his chest and eyes on the floor.
He did it not because of reverence of someone higher, given that he kept his head above all this time to all he had met, but because standing up right now might shatter his bones.
The air was heavy with concentrated zaen dense enough that it crackled in his ears like a rising tide of static.
His chest burned.
His lungs screamed for breath.
Blood filled his mouth and drowned his tongue.
"Urrhkk-gk…"
He groaned and his body trembled, but did not lift his head.
Sensing his stubbornness, Archduke Ethan released another wave of zaen. It was no longer wild, but sharpened and focused solely on Seven.
Cough!
Seven now began to cough, but he still kept his head bowed.
The Archduke pressed further, almost lost in it.
But.
Just as he did, the room temperature dropped into negatives and a blade covered in ice hovered before the Archduke's neck.
"Father…"
Eden said.
"...You're going too far. If anything happens to the youngest, don't expect me to stay quiet."
For a second, Archduke Ethan twitched.
Ice.
Frost.
Or anything related to the water magic the Havin specialized in— reminded him of his battle against the Archmage Maxvlque.
And for a moment, he had an instinct to cut down Eden.
Hff…
Instead, he took a deep breath and his rationality returned. Seeing the struggling youngest child kneeling before him, he withdrew his zaen.
Eden, too, sheathed her sword back and the temperature of the room returned back to the normal cold of winter.
"Raise your head."
The Archduke's voice was colder than the current winter.
Seven did as ordered.
He slowly tilted his chin until his eyes met the man seated upon the throne.
The Archduke was not dressed in ceremonial garbs. His clothing was simple: white shirt embroidered only at the sleeves, and a crest pinned to the shoulder— one that bore the symbol of House Hart.
Ethan did not speak for a long while. He only watched Seven.
Studied him.
Judged him.
"…Why did you call me Archduke, and not your father?."
Seven blinked.
He was not surprised by the question itself, but the calm tone the Archduke had said it but still felt like his head would go stumbling on the floor if he replied a wrong answer.
Still, he did not flinch. Instead, he straightened his spine slightly.
"You returned to the Duchy after a long absence and asked for my presence immediately. Because of that, I assumed this was an official summon and that's why I addressed you that way."
Eden, slightly raised her chin as she heard that response.
On the other hand, Archduke Ethan only closed his hands.
"Hmm. That's a satisfying answer."
"Thank you, Archduke."
Archduke Ethan removed his right hand from the hilt of his sword.
"I've asked your presence for a different reason, so refer to me as Father for now."
As he raised his right hand and pointed down at Seven, the zaen in the air thickened again and the very gravity around Seven intensified.
He dropped lower on one knee to brace himself and swallowed the iron taste in his mouth.
"Then, I'll ask you the same question I asked your siblings.
"Is it wrong that your sister awakened magic… a talent far removed from the sword?"
Seven's jaw tensed.
It was a question framed so simply and so deceptively.
Yet he knew better.
This was not about his sister. It was about loyalty. About worth. About who was allowed to deviate from the path carved by a man who saw every child as either a sword or scrap.
"That is…"
He raised his gaze to met the Archduke's, clenched his fist and pressed it firmly against his chest, and chose his words with care.
"...not wrong.
"If you are a member of the Hart Household, then you must know that it was never just the sword that kept it standing.
"It was strength.
"If my sister awakened magic, and it gave her strength, then that strength is still Hart."
"..."
For a moment, nothing moved.
Not the flickering braziers.
Not the snowflakes falling just outside the window.
And not even the dust caught in the faint sunbeams through the stained glass above.
"Everyone except the youngest in the room…"
Archduke Ethan said.
"...Leave."
"As you command, Archduke."
The wolf masked figure of Abbadon, who was standing just in front of the closed door while holding the lock to ensure no one comes in, bowed and vanished into thin air.
Eden did not say anything.
'A one-on-one talk with father…'
She descended the platform beside the throne. Her steps were soundless on the velvet red mat where Seven still knelt.
Step.
She paused right beside Seven and gave a soft, imperceptible smile just enough to let him know she was thinking something..
'Lovely little brother… not bad, huh?'
Step.
She then walked away and the echo of her heels faded toward the massive door.
Creak.
And with a gentle pull, she slipped out of the throne hall and closed the door behind her.
Inside the throne hall, Seven was now alone with the Archduke.
"I sent those two away because there are questions I have for you and only you."
The Archduke stood.
"You claimed that a Hart using magic was 'acceptable.'
"That it was strength."
His tone sharpened as he descended the steps toward Seven.
"We, Harts, have always forbidden the use of magic.
"Not out of pride, but because you cannot reach the pinnacle of the sword if you divide yourself."
Step.
His boots echoed off the floor.
"That will be your elder sister's burden. Eden will never reach that peak."
He now stood before Seven like a towering force and casted a shadow that seemed to drag the room into silence.
"You must know this."
The Archduke's gaze burned through him.
"Eden said she killed you. She claimed she did so to protect you from them.
"Even the wolf of Abaddon testified it as truth."
"Yet here you are. Alive. Kneeling. With a gaze more vivid than any man I've faced."
He stared down.
"So tell me. What is the power you used?"
Suddenly, silence engulfed the throne hall. There was no pressure or an overwhelming force of zaen that hummed in the air.
Because the Archduke was not releasing it.
He was consuming it.
He was absorbing every ripple into himself and left the air hollow like a vacuum. And that silence, that stillness, was far more terrifying than any violent force.
"If it's magic…"
The Archduke said quietly.
"I won't let it pass as I did with your sister."
Seven grit his teeth.
|| Basic Information ||
|| Character: Adrian Ethan Cade Hart ||
|| Age: 58 ||
|| Talent: Hart Swordsmanship ||
There were ten reasons to fear him.
One: absorbing zaen from the air was a hundred times harder than radiating it.
Two: the man before him had reached the pinnacle of the Sixth Gate— a realm so high it shattered reason.
Three: the Archduke's hand now rested on the hilt of his sword.
And the other seven were simply just because the Archduke existed.
Yet, despite the weight of death looming above him…
Seven smiled.
"That is…"
He looked up with his left eye that was now shimmering gold.