Great House Luthia

Just when the old man was about to barge in Arvad's room, he felt a gloomy aura behind him. The killing intent was almost materializing, freezing him on the spot.

He robotically turned his head to see the fiery red eyes of a snake resting not more than a few inches away from him.

The mouth of the snake suddenly spewed fire, scaring the old man, as he rapidly took back steps, sluttering, "W-wait, you have already surpassed the Mana Core Stage."

"Surprised? Your intelligence expert didn't tell you about it?" Roy looked at the edge of the spear which was burning with crimson fire. "I am afraid you won't have a chance to scold him."

"Will you really not consider my offer?" the old man asked tremblingly.

"You still want me to surrender? Haha, are you an idiot?"

"No, I want you to join us. Let me tell you House Aeron will not survive longer," The old man calmed down by now, and seriously looked into his eyes.

Roy squinted his eyes, and returned the gaze. "Do you really believe it?"

"You really don't know, or are you just trying to appear ignorant? The predators that eye the House Aeron surpasses your imagination. Save yourself! Swear loyalty to my lord!" The old man raised both of his hands, and appeared to have blind respect for his lord.

"Who is the lord you speak of?" Roy asked, appearing to be influenced by his offer.

"Deactivate the shield around this child, and let me kill him. Every question you hold will be answered if you do so."

Roy looked at the sleeping Arvad, and inched closer around his bed. The mana shield distorted as he lightly touched it with his fingers.

"Excellent!" The old man clapped his hands, ecstatic over the fact that his plan was working.

Suddenly, a cold expression appeared on Roy's face, and the fire on his spear danced more fiercely. "Your intelligence expert really was a fool. If it would have been an imperial expert, he would tell you better than bribing and provoking King Aeron's man."

"He would have also warned that the knights of House Aeron are maniacs, run the moment you see one of them." Roy took slow steps towards the old man. There was a terrifying calmness hidden beneath his unhurried pace. "They would have told you that we are stubborn humans. Even if one pierced us with hundreds of arrows, we would never betray our king."

Roy shook his head. "It's a pity they never told you. Now, be a good boy and tell me about your master. I would love to know more."

The old man was horrified by now, and his body trembled under the dreadful aura. He closed his eyes, and muttered some unknown spell.

"The wind who gave me strength shall be the one to take my breath away."

Those were his final word before a strong air wave broke the wooden walls. Even Roy was pushed back several steps from the strong currents.

The shield around Arvad trembled, but it went back to normal immediately.

Roy saw the old man spitting out blood, his eyes widening, and his chest cavity ballooned to the limit before he exploded like a fireworks of blood and meat.

Roy formed a light mana shield to prevent himself from drowning in more blood than he already had.

He walked forward and confirmed that he was dead. The old man's entire body was busted open from the negative air pressure brought upon by his weird spell.

'What an intelligent way to die. Never knew wind magic could be used in this way.'

Shaking his head, he stood up and looked at the mess. He was a little depressed that he couldn't find their origin, and some assassins must have already escaped while he was dealing with that fool.

'Soon, there will be a long crowd here. I should send a hidden message to his majesty to send some backup. I am afraid this ceremony isn't going to be peaceful.'

He looked around the destruction caused by their fight, and sighed. "Thank you Marthe Town for the great hospitality."

Looking over at the tinge of brightness in the horizon, he quickly decided to leave for the long journey ahead of them.

-----------

Ten days later.

On the east of the Artidus Empire.

Territory of Great House Luthia.

"Lord, two of the twenty-three assassins sent to Marthe Town have sent some news," a soldier reported.

A middle-aged man around forty-five year old slightly gestured for him to continue, while his gaze was fixated on the two small puppets fighting over a wooden arena.

The puppets were a few centimeters long, and seemed like ordinary soldiers. The astonishing thing was that they were filled with life at this moment.

Both of them were fighting, and the little puppet on the middle-aged man's side casually defended all the incoming strikes.

"They think they have found the ones you were searching for. The Head of the Knights, Roy was personally protecting a masked kid, which resulted in the loss of all the assassins."

"Ohh. Marthe Town, is it? The Last town of Artidus. Close to the Darkwood Forest, King Aeron, you really do not even show mercy to your own kid." The Lord of Great House Luthia, Mason Luthia, muttered lazily.

"Aren't you the same, Father?"

Seraph Luthia was sweating as he controlled his puppet to breach the defense of his opponent. However, despite using all the tricks up his sleeves, not even a single attack penetrated its defense.

Mason sneered upon hearing his son complain. "How old are you? Twelve years old? He can already kill ten of you while being a seven year old himself."

Seraph was enraged when he heard this, and his attacks subconsciously started to get aggressive. "Before he can even pick his sword, I can play him to death with my magic."

"Oh, you think you are immortal after knowing a little bit of tricks in magic?" Mason easily dodged his puppet's attacks with a slight footwork, and dealt a massive blow to its forehead. "Let me tell you, you are just digging your grave by bringing emotions in the middle of a fight. Don't waste your spirit strength, and show me some wits."

Even though his face was covered in sweat, Seraph gritted his teeth, and continued to fight Mason's puppet. "What are you going to do with them? The masked kid must be him."

Mason looked up at Seraph, and smiled. "Sharp observation even during a Spirit Battle. Thank god, you haven't lost all your brains while hunting the maids around my castle. What do you suggest I should do?"

Seraph ignored the insults, and said while trying his best to not let his puppet drown into the Mason's offensive. There was a ruthless shine to his eyes when he said this, "We make him disappear in the forest, else what?"

"No. I am afraid we don't have any need to do the honors. The news must have already reached someone by now."

Seraph was surprised, and almost made a mistake while controlling his puppet. "You mean, the Emperor is finally making a move against the House Aeron? But why? House Aeron has always helped the empire, and they have never shown any intention for the throne."

"You have overlooked one thing, son. Does a dragon ever like to share his crown?" Mason asked.

Seraph shook his head. "No."

"The Emperor is far more arrogant than a dragon. He is a jealous man. And jealous men are the ones who should be feared the most."

"Does Artidus even have the power to erase House Aeron?" Seraph couldn't help but ask.

Mason turned silent for a long moment, his eyes following the moments of Seraph's puppet which was getting clumsier second by second. "No one knows about the strength of Artidus, but as far as I know the Emperor, he won't make a move himself. The roots of House Aeron runs too deep, and pulling it out for no good reason will only result in terror among the other noble house."

"I am really curious when the war will start." Seraph rubbed away the sweat using his sleeves.

Mason closed his eyes, and each and every pattern of his son's attack ran through his mind.

The puppet on the arena danced on his thoughts, sweeping past Seraph's offensive with a single action. It found an opening, and directly drilled its chest with a sharp punch.

Seraph felt a splitting headache, and something seemed to have severed from his mind. He could only helplessly look as his puppet crumbled into the arena.

"The war has already started, albeit the swords are not drawn, but the traps are already laid."

Mason opened his eyes, and casually said before he stood up and turned to leave. "Your mental link with the puppet was severed forcefully, so you should rest well for the next few days."

Seraph heaved deep breaths, clenched his fists, and let out a low roar. The arena made from a strong wood was crumbled into dust as his spirit strength ran rampant.

After venting out, he felt warm blood pouring out of his ears and nose, and fell into deep thoughts.

****

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