Inside the central room of the towering castle at the heart of the Viera Empire’s eastern border camp.

On a fine desk of high-quality reinforced wood sat a scattering of papers with no particular order to them, and beside them a cup of coffee that had gone cold in the night air.

Behind the desk sat a man who appeared to be in his forties — black hair threaded with gray, wearing dark trousers and a white shirt with the top two buttons left undone, a small concession to the frustration he had not found another way to release.

His blue eyes looked out through the window at the moon, his thoughts somewhere far away, the sadness on his composed face plain and unguarded.

Then a shadow appeared on the window in front of him.

Karius was startled when he saw it — not because he had not felt it coming, since he had sensed the energy some time ago — but because its arrival here, of all places, meant only one thing.

"My lord!" Antonius stepped in through the window and gave a sharp military salute.

"Antonius?! is he—" Karius was already on his feet, gripping both of Antonius’s shoulders with visible concern.

"Yes, my lord. The young master has woken up. He’s in his tent with his squadmates now," Antonius said from beneath his hood, nodding to reassure him.

A breath left Karius — slow, deep, and unmistakably relieved — the moment Antonius finished speaking.

"Good. Good. That’s truly good." He sank back into his chair, exhausted in the way that only hours of quiet dread could produce, feeling as though a mountain had just been lifted from his chest.

"Don’t be too hard on yourself, my lord. Who could have foreseen that he would suffer a soul anomaly so easily from merely hearing one of the Fourteen Taboos named? I must also say — what happened to him is not normal in the slightest," Antonius said, lowering his head in respect.

"Raise your head, Antonius," Karius said first, before addressing anything else.

"Yes, my lord," Antonius said, and straightened.

"First — I am not being hard on myself. If something had happened to him, I would have been responsible, because I was the one who brought him here in the first place."

"Second — I am well aware that Ravian is not normal. Not his composure, not his mind, and not that strange state he slips into sometimes." Karius reached for the coffee cup, brought it to his lips, and set it back down with a look of mild disgust when he found it stone cold.

"Then does that mean—" Antonius began, but Karius cut across him.

"It doesn’t mean he’s under the control of one of the Taboos. That much I’m certain of. He acts entirely of his own will," Karius said with finality.

"Then what about his performance on the battlefield — his sharp instincts, the way he fought that orc he was supposedly seeing for the first time, the complete lack of hesitation or retreat? Is that normal behavior for someone fighting for the very first time?" Antonius pressed.

"No. It isn’t normal. But you’re wrong about one thing," Karius said, with a faint smile.

"My lord?" Confusion showed clearly on Antonius’s face.

"Ravian doesn’t have a lion’s courage. Ravian knows how to hide his terror," Karius said, his thoughts drifting back to what he had sensed from Ravian’s body when he was watching him closely on the battlefield.

"Ravian’s heart was beating so hard that for a moment I genuinely thought it was going to give out. But in the very next moment, he closed his eyes — and when he opened them again—" Karius paused.

"Everything changed. His focus increased to a degree that surprised even me. His eyes locked onto his target, and he started looking for a way through."

"Even the movements he used — they weren’t built on experience," Karius added, his frown settling in quietly.

"What do you mean, my lord?" Antonius asked, finding himself more and more invested in his lord’s analysis.

"They looked... imitated," Karius said.

"Imitated?" Antonius repeated, puzzled.

"Yes. It was as though he was exerting everything he had just to reproduce movements he was recalling from memory — I don’t know where he had seen them, but those movements had no life in them. Which made it very clear that he had no real combat experience to speak of." Karius finished and left it there.

Antonius quietly replayed the battle in his mind — Ravian’s exchange with the orc, the way he had pulled it into a clash with a knight at its own level — and the more he turned it over, the more his lord’s analysis made sense.

"Then is there a problem...?" Antonius asked, tapping the edge of the desk lightly.

"No problem at all. Don’t think about it further — I’ll handle my student personally if anything seems off."

"For now, you should get some rest as well. But before you do, send a unit of Soul Liberator knights to patrol the perimeter of the Death Squad’s camp."

"I don’t know whether someone might try something with my student again, and I have no intention of repeating the same mistake twice." Karius finished his instructions, leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes for the first time in two days.

"Your orders are my command," Antonius said, gave a quick nod, and slipped out to leave his lord to rest.

At the Death Squad’s camp — specifically, inside Ravian’s new tent.

Five people sat on five separate beds spread across a tent that was roughly the same size as Malrik’s and Lysandra’s.

"So... I know this was supposed to be a guys’ night," Ravian said, looking at Malrik, Darius, Kael, and Elias in turn.

"Why did you all bring your beds with you?" he finished, one eyebrow twitching.

"You want us to leave you sleeping alone in this state, without any guards? Not a chance," Kael said, utterly serious, from the bed to Ravian’s right.

"Agreed. You need protection. At least until you’ve fully recovered," Darius said from the bed to Ravian’s left, already stretched out comfortably.

"Correct," Elias added — a man of few words as ever — hands folded beneath his head, lying on the bed directly across from Ravian.

"You should be grateful, boy. I have never slept in anyone else’s tent before... not even a girl’s," Malrik said with considerable pride, running a hand back through his short blond hair.

"Hah?" Ravian stared at him with genuine shock.

"Ignore him, Ravian," Kael leaned over and whispered, making slow circles with his finger beside his head.

"He’s never been on a date in his life, let alone ended up in someone’s tent. He’s... a lost cause."

"HEY, KAEL, YOU SNAKE! Do you call that a whisper?! You’re narrating the whole thing with your hands!" Malrik shot up from the bed across the way, the one beside Elias.

"Tsk." Kael clicked his tongue and looked away.

"Haha." Ravian laughed softly, and for the first time in what felt like a very long while, something in his chest loosened.

"Ah — by the way, guys—" Darius spoke up suddenly.

"What is it, Darius? Can’t you see I’m in the middle of yelling at Kael?" Malrik turned to him with an irritated expression.

"Sorry to interrupt — but are we just going to sleep with that sitting right there in front of us?" Darius’s broad frame shifted as he pointed toward the orc corpse propped like a discarded toy in one corner of the tent.

"Ah — that’s my fault, guys. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it tomorrow," Ravian said, and the smile on his face widened a little as he looked at the orc’s corpse.

"Fair enough. But never mind that — don’t you think it’s time you told us what actually happened to you, Ravian?" Kael said, entirely unbothered by the orc, his eyes bright with barely contained curiosity as he turned to Ravian.

"Yes. We want to know," Elias said, adding a few more words than usual this time, nodding in agreement.

Malrik and Darius said nothing — but both of them sat up instead of lying down and leaned toward the edge of their beds, waiting.

"Alright, alright. It’s not that big of a deal, but I’ll tell you from the beginning," Ravian said with a quiet smile, watching their eagerness.

Then he turned and looked at a random corner of the tent as if collecting his thoughts — at least, that was how it appeared to everyone watching.

In reality—

A white window appeared in front of him, laced with red veins and dark shadows that gave it a look that was both striking and imposing.

[Displaying host status.]

[Book: Sovereign Pride]

[Heir: Ravian Veyr]

[Titles (New): Fate’s Manipulator.]

[Race: Human]

[Age: 18]

[Rank: Awakened]

[Soul: Dual Soul — Unknown Rank]

[Lives: 3]

[Element: Void]

[Available Sovereign Pride Abilities: Sovereign Pulse — can be used once per day; permanently increases the host’s physical capabilities. (Used twice automatically while the host was unconscious.)]

[Host’s Innate Ability: Absolute Focus — Unknown Rank]

[Physical Constitution: Basic-Grade Sovereign Pride Physique — Progress: 15% (A critical stage in the transformation process.)]

[Current Gate of the Book: Awakening]

[Next Gate: Walker]