The grand gates of House Joshua creaked open under the dying light of dusk. Towering marble walls lined with blue banners bore the sigil of the house—an eagle bound in chains, wings spread but never free.
The air was scented with summer rain and cold iron. Aden Vasco stood before the entrance, his coat trailing like the shadow of a reaper.
The guards on duty immediately stepped forward. They had expected a guest—but not this.The moment Aden took another step past the threshold, an invisible pressure rolled off him like a thunderstorm breaking the silence. A sudden pulse of dread—ancient and violent—swept through the estate's front lines.
Knights stationed at the courtyard faltered. One instinctively activated a defensive glyph, lines of silver light forming a barrier across his armor. Another drew her sword halfway from its sheath before realizing her hand was trembling.
"Stand down," barked their captain. "That's… that's the Twelfth Pillar."
Still, their expressions betrayed fear. Even with their training, the instinct to survive roared louder than discipline. They were staring at something that didn't belong among men.
Aden raised a brow and muttered under his breath, "I didn't even glare this time."
Inside his mind, Egmund chuckled, his voice warm and lazy like an old friend sunbathing on chaos.
"Bro, you walked in like a final boss and expected a tea party. That aura's got people seeing their ancestors."
Aden smirked. Fair point.
One of the senior knights approached hesitantly, eyes low. "Forgive us, Lord Vasco. We weren't informed you'd be arriving personally."
"No offense taken," Aden replied. "But maybe don't point spears at your in-laws."
The knight stiffened. In-laws. The reminder sent a quiet ripple through the others. It wasn't just power that had entered their gates—it was future blood. Ties made by the Empire's will.
He continued up the stone path flanked by columns carved with the deeds of House Joshua. As the fading sun kissed the estate's walls, golden light clashed with his black silhouette—an omen of night trespassing upon daylight.
"You know," Egmund said with a teasing drawl, "you could've just written a letter like a normal guy."
"And miss this fun?" Aden whispered. "Nah. Besides, I need to look the part."
As they entered the garden atrium, attendants parted before him like leaves before the wind. Murmurs trailed behind—"That's the one who killed Veris. Alone." "They say he fights like war given flesh."
"Hey," Egmund added casually, "real talk though. You feelin' a little smug?"
"Maybe just a little," Aden admitted. "Power gets lonely. Smugness helps."
He paused before a white stone fountain shaped like a hawk in flight. The water shimmered faintly with mana, glistening like liquid moonlight.
And there she was—Serenia Joshua, standing on the balcony above, watching with her arms crossed. Her long dark hair was tied behind her with a silver cord, and she wore a scholar's robe beneath a light military overcoat. Intelligence gleamed in her eyes. Not curiosity—calculation.
Their gazes met.
Aden nodded once. "Lady Serenia."
She responded with a faint smirk. "So, the wolf visits after the war."
"I was invited."
"Not by me," she said, stepping down the stairs. "But I appreciate men who arrive with silence, not trumpets."
Aden extended a gloved hand. She looked at it for a moment too long, then took it.
"I thought I'd see fear," she said quietly. "But all I see is purpose."
"Yo, she's got that dangerous poetry tone," Egmund whispered. "You sure she's not the final boss?"
Aden ignored him. "You'll see more than that soon," he said to Serenia.
They exchanged no further words, only a glance full of unspoken warnings and acknowledgments.
As the night deepened and stars glimmered like silver scars in the sky, the House Joshua estate held its breath. A storm had arrived—calm, composed, and smiling.