Knock. Knock. Knock.
Lost in thought, he was suddenly pulled back to reality by a knock at the door. His gaze shifted toward it before he spoke in a calm, detached tone.
"Come in."
As he walked toward his office table, he opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of gloves. Slipping them on with practiced ease, his eyes landed on the visitors who had just stepped inside.
It was the twins. Arabella and Aldari, his younger siblings.
At thirteen years old, they bore a striking resemblance to him. Both had the same dark hair, but their eyes set them apart. Arabella inherited their father's golden pupils, while Aldari took after their mother with his silver ones. If an outsider saw them together, they might even mistake Aldari for his son, given how eerily similar they looked.
"What brings you here?" he asked, his voice composed as he adjusted the fit of his gloves.
Interacting with siblings was unfamiliar territory for him. Having grown up alone, he had no experience in dealing with family, so he spoke plainly, without warmth or hesitation.
The twins strode inside and settled onto the long sofa near his desk. His gaze instinctively flicked to Aldari's hands, smudged with melted chocolate. A slight frown tugged at his lips as he noticed the streak of chocolate on the corner of Aldari's mouth.
Before he could stop himself, he reached for the tissue box on his desk, strode over, and wiped the mess from Aldari's face and hands with precise, meticulous strokes.
"I asked, what brought you here?" he repeated, sensing their eyes on him.
"Mother asked us to bring you this," Arabella finally spoke, retrieving a small box from her pocket.
He tossed the used tissue into the trash before turning his attention back to them. Their stares remained fixed on his every move, an almost scrutinizing curiosity in their eyes. Taking the box from Arabella's hands, he flipped it open.
Inside, nestled on a bed of velvet, was a small sapphire brooch.
"What else did she say?" he asked, his fingers lightly brushing against the cool metal as he absentmindedly adjusted the twins' slightly disheveled collars. They both pouted in protest.
He knew why. They probably felt that he was treating them like children, fixing their clothes as if they were untidy. In their minds, it was almost humiliating.
"Nothing else," Arabella responded, her tone carrying a hint of disappointment.
His gaze drifted toward the window, where the sun had already risen, casting a soft golden glow across the sky. Morning had arrived. Another sleepless night.
"I see," he murmured, closing the box and placing it neatly on his desk, alongside the other meticulously arranged items.
"Brother, Mother says you'll leave today..." Aldari, who was usually the quieter of the twins, finally spoke up.
Sulien glanced at him, noting the slight furrow in the boy's brows.
"Yes," he replied, adjusting his gloves. "I need to leave today since the journey will take almost half a day."
"But isn't the academy opening the day after tomorrow? Why are you leaving so early?" Aldari questioned, tilting his head slightly.
Sulien's brow twitched.
This kid...
Even at such a young age, they were already this perceptive. This house sure is full of monsters. Every member of this family, even the servants, carried a sharpness that was impossible to ignore.
He inwardly sighed.
He couldn't tell them that he was looking for someone on the way, so he quickly thought of an excuse.
"Isn't it better to be early?" he said nonchalantly, ruffling both their heads before they could probe further.
Arabella huffed, swatting his hand away, while Aldari simply frowned, clearly unsatisfied with the answer but choosing not to press any further.
Before they could continue their questioning, Sulien called for Butler Lin.
"Look after them," he instructed.
The butler nodded, ushering the reluctant twins out of the room. Their gazes lingered on him until the door finally closed behind them.
With the room now silent, Sulien let out a slow breath and leaned back in his chair. His gaze drifted to the desk, where the small velvet box remained untouched since Arabella handed it to him.
He reached for it again, flipping the lid open to reveal the sapphire brooch inside. The gem gleamed under the morning light, its deep blue hues reminiscent of the ocean at twilight.
Tidecaller's Grace
— Enhances the wearer's natural mana recovery, allowing them to cast spells more frequently.
Sulien's fingers brushed over the cool metal.
A mana regeneration boost. A unique item that was incredibly difficult to obtain, even with all the protagonist's skills, acquiring something like this would be nearly impossible.
He took the brooch out of its case and carefully pinned it to the left side of his chest.
A faint warmth pulsed from the gem, as if responding to his mana.
His mother had chosen well.
---
"Then, I'll be on my way," I announced as I settled into the carriage, my voice steady despite the weight of departure pressing on my chest.
Butler Lin bowed deeply, his ever-composed demeanor unchanged, while the maids standing beside him followed suit. My mother and the duke were not present to see me off, but their presence lingered. I could feel their gazes from the upper-floor window, their silent worries piercing through the glass like an unspoken plea for me to stay safe.
I turned my head toward them, meeting their unseen stares, and dipped my head slightly, quiet reassurance that I would be fine. No response came, yet I knew they had seen it. That alone was enough.
The past few days in this household had been nothing short of surreal. For someone like me, who had never once received warmth or affection in my previous life, it was as if I had stepped into a dream I never dared to have. The way they spoke to me, looked at me, and worried for me. It was a kind of love I had never known.
But I couldn't afford to indulge in it for long.
If I wanted to protect this life and this family, I had to act. I couldn't simply sit back and enjoy the privileges of comfort while dangers lurked in the shadows. I had read the story. I knew what lay ahead.
As the carriage began to move, the wheels crunching softly against the gravel road, I allowed myself one last glance at the towering estate. The grand halls, the warmth of family dinners, the safety of these walls. I would not let them be taken.
I clenched my gloved hands, resolve hardening in my chest.
No matter what, I would ensure their survival.
The rhythmic creaking of the carriage accompanied the steady clip-clop of hooves against the dirt road. Inside, Sulien sat with one leg crossed over the other, his gloved fingers tapping lightly against the armrest. The view beyond the window stretched endlessly, rolling fields bathed in the warm hues of the afternoon sun, distant forests standing like silent sentinels, and scattered farmhouses with smoke curling from their chimneys. It was peaceful, almost idyllic.
But his mind was elsewhere.
He wasn't heading straight to the academy. There was someone he needed to find first, someone whose existence had been nothing more than a passing mention in the novel he read in his past life. But in a world where every decision could change the course of fate, he had no intention of letting such a figure remain in waste.
He instructed the coachman to take a detour and stop by a nearby village. A place most would overlook, but not him. There was someone there he needed to find. Someone who, if left alone, would waste away in obscurity.
Instead of letting that man rot in a forgotten corner of the world, Sulien intended to bring him along. He had already secured approval from the academy's headmaster, on the condition that the man agreed to come. Persuasion would be necessary, but Sulien was prepared.
The village was small, nestled between rolling hills and dense woodlands. From what he remembered of the story, the man he sought lived in near-isolation, shunned by most and ignored by the rest. A tragic fate for someone with such untapped potential.
Sulien leaned back against the cushioned seat of the carriage, eyes drifting toward the passing landscape. If everything went as planned, today would mark the beginning of a different path. Not just for that man, but for the future Sulien was determined to shape.
As the village came into view, Sulien pulled back the curtain and observed. It was a modest settlement, untouched by the grandeur of noble cities or the ruin of war. Thatched roofs covered most homes, while sturdier wooden and stone buildings lined the main street. Merchants called out to passersby, children wove through the crowds with playful shrieks, and laborers carried sacks of grain toward the bustling market square. It was the kind of place where time moved slowly, where people lived without worrying about the weight of power struggles.
He asked the coachman to stop near a tavern and find a place for them to rest.
The carriage slowed, coming to a stop outside a quiet tavern on the outskirts of the village.
The wooden sign above the door swayed slightly in the breeze, its faded letters barely legible. Sulien exhaled softly, then reached for the door handle.
As he stepped out, the earthy scent of damp soil mixed with the faint aroma of roasted meat and ale. The tavern itself was unimposing, worn, but well-kept, with light seeping through its small, dusty windows. He adjusted the cuffs of his coat before pushing the door open.
Inside, the atmosphere was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of oak, alcohol, and tobacco. Candles flickered against aged wooden beams, casting elongated shadows over the few patrons occupying the space. Some sat hunched over their drinks, others conversed in low murmurs. A bard played a soft melody in the corner, his fingers idly strumming the strings of his worn-out lute.
Sulien's gaze swept across the room. Then, he saw him.
A lone figure sat at the farthest table, his chair pushed slightly back into the shadows. His dark, unkempt hair fell over his face, his clothes though plain were worn from years of use, and his boots bore the marks of long-forgotten travels. A half-empty mug sat before him, his fingers loosely curled around its handle. He looked like a man who had long abandoned any sense of purpose.
Sulien approached without hesitation, the soft thud of his boots against the wooden floor the only sound marking his presence. When he reached the table, he pulled out the opposite chair and sat down.
The man barely reacted, save for a subtle tightening of his grip around his cup.
"…You must be mistaken," he muttered, not even sparing a glance. "I'm not looking for company."
"I know," Sulien replied, his voice calm. "I came looking for you."
A flicker of wariness crossed the man's face, but he didn't turn to face him.
"You have the wrong person."
"I don't." Sulien leaned back slightly. "You were a mercenary, weren't you? A long time ago."
That made the man pause. His fingers twitched slightly, but he remained silent.
"Years ago, you fought under an independent guild before it disbanded. You're skilled in combat, experienced in survival, and yet here you are." Sulien gestured subtly around them. "Wasting away in a place like this."
A mirthless chuckle escaped the man's lips. He finally looked up, his dull gray eyes meeting Sulien's for the first time. There was something heavy in that gaze, fatigue, resignation, and something deeper, buried so well that even he may not have realized it.
"…And what does a noble like you want from a washed-up mercenary?"
"I'm offering you something," Sulien said, tilting his head. "A position at the academy. An instructor role."
The man scoffed. "You're joking."
"Do I look like I'm joking?"
Silence stretched between them.
The man exhaled through his nose, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "And why the hell would I teach a bunch of spoiled brats how to fight?"
Sulien's gaze didn't waver. "Because it's better than drowning yourself in cheap ale every night." His voice was level, but firm. "And because I need someone like you."
The man stared at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms against the table.
"…And if I refuse?"
Sulien shrugged. "Then I leave, and you can go back to pretending this life is enough for you."
The man's lips pressed into a thin line. He reached for his drink again but didn't take a sip. His fingers only tightened around the handle before he let out a long, weary sigh.
"…When do we leave?"
Sulien allowed himself a small, satisfied smirk.
"Tonight."
This is almost too easy, He thought to himself.
***