The once-tense rooftop now buzzed with whispered conversations. The crowd began to disperse, though many still cast lingering glances at Valerius, their curiosity and newfound respect evident.
Seraphina stood by his side, glancing between him and Velindra's retreating figure.
"Young Master, it was a great duel! A total victory!" Seraphina said, excitement clear in her voice.
Valerius gave her a small smile, then turned his attention to the spot where Velindra had vanished into the distance. Her parting words echoed in his mind.
"Be careful which ones you meet, now that you have shown your power everything is gonna change."
He did not doubt the weight behind her statement. She had not spoken out of mere curiosity, nor was she one to issue empty warnings.
I am not sure, but I do not think it was just a threat. Velindra Duskwren is too composed to speak without purpose. She knows something I do not.
Seraphina glanced around before pointing out, "Young Master, everyone has left. We should go too."
Valerius nodded and turned to leave the rooftop, but just as he did, a figure approached.
The man looked to be in his early fifties, with a weathered face and a dark cloak that swept around his feet. His presence was commanding, and though his aura was restrained, it carried a distinct weight of power.
"Your Highness," the man greeted, bowing slightly. His voice was calm, yet there was an underlying authority to it. "Your duel was spectacular."
Valerius did not bow in return but inclined his head. "You must be one of the Crimson Claws of the Adamant Fang Sentinels, correct?"
The recognition came from his memories.
The man's lips quirked into a faint smile as he stepped closer. "That is right, Your Highness. My name is Thaddeus Rowanthorne, one of the four Crimson Claws of the Adamant Fang Sentinels. I have come here to escort you back to the palace."
Valerius studied Thaddeus Rowanthorne carefully. The man's presence was imposing yet measured, like a predator that knew when to strike and when to observe. The Adamant Fang Sentinels, an elite force that served directly under the emperor, were no ordinary guards. And the Crimson Claws, their highest-ranking warriors besides their leader, were even more formidable.
If one of them had come personally, this was no simple escort.
Seraphina's expression shifted. Her body tensed slightly.
"We weren't expecting an escort," she said, her tone wary.
Thaddeus remained unfazed. "Orders from His Majesty. Your Highness's victory today has stirred many eyes. It would be... unwise to travel alone." His eyes flickered toward Valerius. "Unless, of course, you wish to reject His Majesty's goodwill."
Valerius held Thaddeus's gaze. He knew better than to believe this was simply about safety. The emperor, his father, had not acknowledged him in years. Why now?
Still, refusing outright could be seen as defiance. He had drawn enough attention for one day.
"Very well," Valerius said, his voice neutral. "Lead the way."
Thaddeus inclined his head slightly and turned, walking toward the pavilion's entrance. Two armored figures flanked him, Aegis Wardens, defense experts. Their rank was only below the four Crimson Claws within the Sentinels.
Valerius and Seraphina followed, but the moment they stepped past the threshold, an unseen pressure settled over them. It was not coming from the guards but from the surroundings themselves.
Valerius's instincts flared.
Something was watching.
He was not sure what it was, but the feeling was undeniable. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes narrowing.
Thaddeus, noticing his hesitation, glanced over his shoulder. "Something wrong, Your Highness?"
Valerius's gaze swept the area once more before he shook his head. "No. Let's go."
Thaddeus said nothing, but there was a glint in his eyes as he led them forward.
As they made their way back to the palace, Valerius could not shake the thought.
Was it just my imagination?
The journey back to the palace was uneventful. The streets were bustling as usual, and as the evening deepened, lanterns cast a warm glow along the winding roads. But despite the calm surroundings, Valerius's senses remained sharp, his earlier unease lingering at the edges of his mind.
As they approached the palace gates, the towering golden doors, adorned with intricate dragon-like carvings, slowly creaked open. The palace guards, clad in ceremonial armor, bowed in perfect synchronization, their movements precise and disciplined.
The Imperial Hall was grand and imposing, its polished marble floors reflecting the soft glow of floating mana crystals embedded in the ceiling. Every step they took echoed through the vast space, amplifying the feeling of emptiness despite its magnificence.
Thaddeus guided them through the corridors with silent efficiency, his mere presence parting the palace attendants like a blade through the water, their gazes dropping as they stepped aside without hesitation.
Then, as they neared Valerius's room, a voice rang out.
"Little brother, I'm happy you made it back safely."
The air tensed.
From the shadows of a side corridor, a figure stepped forward. A young man, appearing around eighteen years old, wore a flowing blue and silver robe. He stood there like a looming shadow, exuding an oppressive force that felt like an anchor sinking into the depths of silence.
Dravenholt Von Aster. The Third Prince.
Valerius stiffened.
There was something about Dravenholt that unsettled him, something beneath his composed demeanor that felt unnatural.
Despite his polite smile, Dravenholt was no ordinary prince. A chill ran down Valerius's spine as he looked at him, the air thick with tension. He felt an instinctual warning as the man before him radiated an oppressive presence, deepening the silence around them. The flickering glow in his mismatched eyes, gold like an inferno storm, purple like the abyss, hinted at something deeper, something dangerous.
Thaddeus, standing beside Valerius, did not move, yet his posture subtly shifted a silent readiness. Seraphina, on the other hand, did not bother hiding her unease. She took a small step behind Valerius, her fingers twitching as if ready to act at a moment's notice.
Dravenholt chuckled softly, his voice smooth yet carrying a subtle edge. "Relax, little brother. I'm just here to congratulate you."
Valerius said nothing. His expression remained unreadable, his thoughts carefully guarded.
Dravenholt took a slow step forward, his gaze appraising, his presence pressing down like an invisible force. "You were quite impressive today. Who would have thought the useless Fifth Prince had such sharp fangs?"
His words were light, almost teasing, but Valerius did not miss the underlying weight behind them.
Dravenholt had been watching him closely...