The door closed behind me with a soft click.

I walked down the corridor, my boots silent on the stone floor. The lanterns on the walls flickered as I passed. Nova’s voice stirred in the back of my mind.

[You are certain about this? Sponsoring her, bringing her into your team? You know nothing about her except what she told you in a moment of grief. Desperate people say desperate things.]

I reached the end of the corridor and turned left, heading toward the main hall. The estate was quiet at this hour. The servants had retired to their quarters. The knights on patrol were stationed at the outer walls. The only sounds were my footsteps and the distant howl of wind through the mountain passes.

"I am sure."

[Why?]

"After what you told me about her abilities."

I paused at a window, looking out at the snow-covered courtyard. The moonlight painted everything in shades of silver and blue. The mountains in the distance looked like sleeping giants wrapped in white shrouds.

"...She’s not strong. Her power is decent, but against anything above Grade Three she’s useless in a straight fight. Her detection range is good, a hundred meters, but that’s not going to win any battles."

[Then why?]

"Because her ability is unique."

I turned away from the window and kept walking. "Spatial Pressure. It’s not space manipulation like mine. Not teleportation or folding or any of that. But she can feel the space around her. She can sense enemies before they appear. She can feel lies in the way mana shifts when someone speaks and can track movements through walls."

I smiled. "Do you understand what that means, Nova?"

["She can see what others try to hide."]

"Exactly."

I pushed open the door to the main hall and stepped inside. The fire in the massive hearth had burned down to embers, casting the room in a warm orange glow. The banners of House Valdris hung from the walls, their silver wolf sigils gleaming in the fading light.

Since the day I came from the trial, I thought of making my own team. People who will be loyal to me and serve. Right now, I have three members in my team.

Lyra, Kael and now this girl.

Kael is also in my team. I know he is a capable person. When I asked him, he joined me immediately, and I am glad he joined me.

After what happened with Marta, I learned something. Trust is not enough. Loyalty is not enough. Love is not enough. Marta loved those children. She took care of them for years. And still, she sold them out when her body started failing.

My jaw tightened. I will not let that happen again. I will not be betrayed by someone close to me. So, I made sure they signed a contract with me. I even asked Lyra to sign a contract with me. I do trust her, but I am still cautious. When I asked her to sign the contract, she signed without hesitation.

She didn’t even read the terms.

I walked toward the far end of the hall, where a side door led to the eastern wing of the estate. My uncle’s study was there. I needed to speak with him before I left.

I stopped in front of a heavy oak door. Voices came from the other side, my uncle’s low rumble, my aunt’s softer tones, the high-pitched laughter of the twins.

I reached for the door handle. I have other candidates in mind too. People who will become important in the future. People I need on my side. One of them is also from the main cast and I need him. I will give them an offer they can’t refuse, but that’s for my future self.

I pushed open the door.

The study was warm, heated by a crackling fire that burned in a small hearth against the far wall. Bookshelves lined the room, filled with tomes on military strategy, monster lore, and the history of the Valdris bloodline.

Uncle Theron sat behind a massive desk, his platinum hair catching the firelight, his sharp eyes fixed on a map spread out before him. His wife, Aunt Seraphina, sat in a chair by the fire with a book open in her lap.

The twins Roran and Eira were playing on the rug, their silver hair bright against the dark wool. They all looked up when I entered.

"Leo," Uncle Theron said, his voice flat and unreadable. "You’re still here."

"I’m leaving soon, but I need to ask you something first."

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving my face. "Ask."

"There is a girl in the guest wing. Her name is Julia Moss. She was the sole survivor of a hunting party that was killed in the Forbidden Zone. I want you to sponsor her for the Aegis Academy."

My uncle’s eyebrow twitched. "Sponsor her. A girl we know nothing about."

"I know enough."

"Do you?" He folded his arms. "And what do you know, exactly?"

I met his gaze. "I know she is desperate. I know she is loyal to her dead grandmother’s memory, if nothing else. I know her ability is rare and useful. And I know she signed a mana oath binding her to me for the next five years."

The room went quiet. Even the twins stopped playing, sensing the shift in the air.

"You had her sign an oath," Uncle Theron said slowly, "before you even asked me to sponsor her."

"Yes."

He was silent for a long moment. Then he nodded. "I will make the arrangements. She will be added to the list of sponsored candidates. Her tuition will be covered by House Valdris." He paused. "But I want to meet her first. Before I sign anything."

"That’s fair."

Aunt Seraphina set down her book and rose from her chair. She crossed the room and stopped in front of me, her warm brown eyes searching my face.

She reached up and cupped my cheek, her hand warm and soft. "Be careful, Leo. The world is changing. The crack in the sky... it’s not just a scar. It’s a door. And something on the other side is trying to open it."

The twins scrambled to their feet and ran to me, wrapping their small arms around my legs.

"Don’t go," Eira said, her voice muffled against my thigh.

"I have to," I said, reaching down to ruffle her hair. "But I’ll come back. I promise."

Roran looked up at me, his eyes fierce. "When I’m bigger, I’m going to come with you. I’m going to be strong like you."

I smiled. "You already are, kid."

I found Lyra waiting for me in the courtyard. The sleek black jet sat on the landing platform at the edge of the estate, its engines humming softly, its dark surface gleaming in the moonlight. The servants had already loaded my belongings. The pilot sat in the cockpit, running through the pre-flight checks.

This world had technology, airships, jets, mana-link for communication, mana-powered engines. It was a strange mix of medieval aesthetics and advanced machinery, but it worked. Nobles flew between territories in luxury craft while commoners rode horses or walked.

The contrast never stopped being strange to me.

Lyra’s eyes swept over me, cataloging, assessing. "You spoke with your uncle?"

"Yes. He will sponsor the girl."

"Good." She walked toward the boarding ramp. "Shall we?"

We climbed aboard. The interior of the jet was warm and spacious, with leather seats and soft lighting. I settled into my seat by the window. Lyra sat across from me, her hand resting on the hilt of one of her short swords, her eyes half-closed.

The engines hummed louder. The jet lifted off the ground, smooth and silent, and the estate began to shrink beneath us. I looked out the window at the dark shapes of the mountains, the pale light of the moon, the stars scattered across the sky like scattered diamonds.

The flight was quiet. Neither of us spoke. There was nothing to say that hadn’t already been said.

After a few hours, the lights of the Celestial Estate appeared on the horizon. The jet descended, and the landing platform came into view. Servants rushed to meet us as the engines powered down and the boarding ramp lowered.

I stepped out into the cold night air. The estate loomed before me, familiar and foreign at the same time. I had grown up here. I had left here as a failure. I was returning as something else entirely.

Lyra fell into step beside me as we walked toward the main entrance. The doors opened before we reached them, and the warmth of the interior washed over me.

And there she was.

Mia.

She was standing in the middle of the entrance hall, her black hair messy, her ocean-blue eyes wide, her small hands clutching the fabric of her nightgown. She had clearly woken up the moment she heard the jet.

"Leo!"

She ran. Her small legs carried her across the marble floor faster than I thought possible, and she launched herself at me with a force that would have knocked me over if I hadn’t been ready.

I caught her. I lifted her off the ground and held her against my chest, and she wrapped her arms around my neck and buried her face in my shoulder.

"You’re back," she said, her voice muffled. "You’re back. You’re back."

"I’m back," I said.

"Yeah." She hugged me again. "Don’t leave for so long next time."

Behind her, my mother appeared in the doorway of the great hall, her hand pressed to her chest, tears already streaming down her face. My father stood behind her, his hand on her shoulder, his expression steady but his eyes bright.

"Leo," my mother whispered.

She crossed the room and pulled me into a hug, careful not to crush Mia between us. My father joined a moment later, his hand heavy and warm on my back.

"Welcome home, son," he said.

"Thank you."

We stood there for a long moment, the four of us, in the middle of the entrance hall, the servants respectfully averting their eyes, the warmth of the fire washing over us. Then my mother pulled back and looked at me, her emerald eyes searching my face.

"You look tired," she said.

She took my hand and led me toward the great hall. "Go and rest now. You can tell us everything in the morning. For now, eat something. Sleep. You are home."

I let her lead me.

Behind me, Lyra followed in silence, her shadow stretching long across the marble floor. The doors closed, and the warmth of the estate wrapped around me like a blanket.

_

Next day, I walked through the familiar corridors of the Celestial Estate, my boots silent on the polished stone floors. The walls were lined with portraits of ancestors I had never met, their painted eyes following me as I passed. Torches flickered in their iron sconces, casting dancing shadows that seemed to bow as I walked by.

My father’s study sat at the end of the west wing. I had been here many times: once as a child sitting on his lap, and later as a disappointment, too ashamed to meet his gaze. Today, I walked with purpose.

I knocked three times.

"Come in."

I pushed the door open.

The room was exactly as I remembered it.

A large desk sat in the center, neat and organized. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with reports, ledgers, and old tomes. A portrait of our family hung on the right wall, my mother’s soft smile, my father’s steady gaze, my older sister’s mischievous grin, and me, young and bright-eyed, before the world had made me hard.

My father sat behind the desk, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. His black hair was disheveled, and his ocean-blue eyes were tired but warm. He looked up as I entered, and a small smile tugged at his lips.

"You’re back," he said.

"I’m back."

I sat across from him without waiting for permission. He chuckled at the familiar rudeness and studied me, his gaze lingering on my white hair and sharper jaw.

"So," he said, setting down his glass. "The trial changed you. Are you going to tell me what happened in there?"

I was quiet for a moment. Then I shook my head. "I already told you and Mom what happened in the trial."

He chuckled, a dry and knowing sound. "Yes. You told us. A very neat, very clean version with no blood, no tears, and no nightmares." He took a sip of his drink. "I may be getting old, Leo, but I’m not senile."

We both stared at each other.

"...I never said you were a good liar," he said.

I smiled while shrugging.

He nodded slowly and set down his glass. He didn’t push. He never did. But his eyes said everything his mouth didn’t.

I know you’re lying. I know you’re hiding something. But I trust you. So I’ll wait.

I looked away first.

He sighed and changed the topic. "Then let’s talk about the future. The academy starts in one month. And the princess’s birthday gala is in one week."

I blinked, having forgotten the event. "The princess what...?"

Father’s eyes narrowed. "Don’t play stupid with me, Leo. You know exactly who I’m talking about. Princess Cordelia Valerion. The Emperor’s daughter. Her eighteenth birthday is coming up and the whole empire is talking about it."

Ah... I remembered now.

In the game, this was the first event—the prologue cutscene where Arthur first met the princess. He would save her from some third-rate nameless nobles and they would dance. She had been the second girl to join his harem, drawn to him by his kindness and his power.

Their meeting had been framed as fate, a destined encounter that would change the course of history. Besides, it’s also the place where my former fiancé will get jealous when they dance. A smile appeared on my face.

It will be interesting.

"The Emperor is throwing a grand gala," Father continued. "Every noble house has been invited. Every important family. Even the Holy Kingdom received an invitation."

I raised an eyebrow, playing dumb. "The Holy Kingdom? The Empire and the Holy Kingdom were... not on good terms."

"They’re not." Father’s smile was thin. "That’s exactly why the invitation was sent. The Emperor is making a statement."

"Let me guess," I said. "The new hero."

Father nodded. "Arthur Vale. The Goddess’s Chosen One. Everyone knows the Emperor wants to marry his daughter to him. There’s already talk, rumors, speculation, political analysts writing essays about the alliance it would create."

I leaned back in my chair. "So the gala isn’t about the princess. It’s about showing off the hero to the world. The Emperor is telling every other race and the Astra Union how a hero was born from his Empire."

"It’s about both." Father picked up his glass again. "The Emperor adores his daughter. He’s been doting on her since she was born. But he’s also a politician. He sees an opportunity, and he’s taking it."

"The hero gets a bride. The Emperor gets a weapon. The Empire gets stability."

"Exactly."

In the game, Arthur had rejected the political implications. He had liked the princess for who she was, not for what she could give him. That was what made him the hero, his earnestness, his sincerity, his refusal to see people as tools.

Truly a bastard, but I wondered if that would still be true now. What if Arthur had changed, the way I had changed?

"There’s more," Father said, breaking my thoughts.

"The crack in the sky. The one that appeared a few months ago." His voice grew serious. "It’s closed now. But the Magic Tower reports that mana density has increased across the world. Incursion gates are appearing more frequently. The Astra Union is on high alert."

I nodded. I knew all of this. I knew it better than he could imagine. Because I caused it, I thought. My trial and return. My existence as an anomaly.

But I couldn’t tell him that. It happened because an existence made me go through the trial, and then on my return, it gave the whole world a fucking scar on the sky as a gift.

"Do you have any news about Grandfather?" I asked, changing the subject. "With the political situation this tense, surely he would have heard. Did you try to contact him?"

A smile spread across my father’s face. "As a matter of fact," he said, "I received word a few days ago. The old man is coming back."

My eyes widened. "He is?"

"He’s healed himself. Whatever injuries kept him in seclusion, he’s finally recovered." Father leaned back in his chair. "He should be here within the next few months."

"That’s... good. That’s really good."

"It is." Father’s eyes met mine. "It would be even better if he got to see his grandson alive and well. Instead of... you know. Dead."

I winced. "Too soon."

"It’s been months almost year. You were dead to the world. I think I’m allowed one joke."

I clicked my tongue. "Fine. One."

Indeed, this guy is my father.

Father chuckled, then his expression grew serious again. "So. What are your plans? You’ve been hiding for months. Are you going to keep hiding? Or are you going to come to the gala?"

I was quiet for a moment. Then a smile spread across my face. It was not a nice smile. It was sharp and cold and slightly unhinged, the kind of smile that made people take a step back without knowing why.

Father’s frown deepened. "Stop that. That disgusting smile. What are you planning?"

My lips twisted, and I coughed to hide my expression. "Nothing. I’m not planning anything."

"Leo."

"I’m serious!" I held up my hands. "I’m not planning anything. I just... I’ve decided. I’m going to the gala. With you and Mother and Mia."

Father’s eyebrows rose. "You are?"

"I can’t hide forever. And you said it yourself, people already have clues. Rumors and suspicions. The longer I stay in the shadows, the more they’ll talk." I shrugged. "So I’ll go. I’ll show my face. Let them see that Leo von Celestial is alive."

"And cause chaos in the process."

"That’s just a bonus." I said with a smile.

Father stared at me for a long moment. Then he shook his head and laughed. "You really are my son. Don’t try too hard." He picked up his glass and took a long drink. "The gala is in one week. Prepare yourself. And for the love of the gods, don’t do anything stupid."

I tilted my head, feigning innocence. "Are you talking about me?"

Father’s lips twitched. "Of course I’m talking about you. Who else in this family can cause a massive scene just by existing?"

"Fair point."

"It’s not a compliment." 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

"It felt like one."

He threw a quill at me. I caught it.

"Anyway," Father said, his voice lighter now, "there’s something else you should know."

"What?"

"Your sister is coming."

My heart sank. "What? Sylvia?"

"Yes, Sylvia. Your other sister. The one you’ve been avoiding by hiding in Uncle Theron’s territory for months. You already know she came when you were in the trial and then when you were at your uncle’s place."

"I haven’t been avoiding her. I’ve been training."

"You’ve been avoiding her."

"...Maybe a little."

Father’s smile turned dark. "Well, she’s arriving in two days. And she told me to tell you, and I quote, ’Tell Leo to be ready to die and also I’m not coming alone.’"

I frowned. "Not coming alone? What does that mean?"

"She’s bringing a friend. Apparently, this friend had nowhere to go for the holidays, and Sylvia invited her to stay with us for a few days."

"Why would she bring a friend here? To the estate?"

Father shrugged. "She and her friend recently finished her first year at the academy. She’s apparently quite talented. And..." He paused, his smile growing mysterious. "She’s also one of the students who will be representing the academy at the princess’s birthday gala."

I stared at him. "A student representative will stay in our house for several days and you agreed to this?"

"She’s Sylvia’s friend. I couldn’t say no." Father’s eyes glinted. "Besides, it might be good for you. Socializing. Meeting new people and not being a complete hermit."

"I’m not a hermit."

"You’ve been living in the wilderness for months, talking to a sword and a ghost in your head."

I opened my mouth to argue. Then I closed it. "...Fair point."

Father laughed. "Just try not to scare her off, alright? I’d prefer not to have to explain to the academy why their representative fled the estate in terror."

"I make no promises."

"That’s what I’m afraid of."

I stood up from the chair. The conversation was over. I could feel it. Father had said what he needed to say, and I had said what I needed to say. The rest would come in time.

"I should go now," I said.

"Rest well, son. And welcome home for real this time."

I smiled. "Thanks, Dad."

I stepped back into the quiet corridor. One week until the gala. Two days until Sylvia arrived. One month until the academy. The story was truly beginning, and I would be there — watching, waiting, and building.

I started walking toward my room while thinking about the future.