Deep within the Forbidden Valley—the territory of the White Dragon Lord—there existed a mighty Castle. In all senses of the word, it resembled an elaborate mansion, with a luxurious compound.
White fog covered the entire space, marking the valley as the territory of the White Dragon Lord of the Empire. Any who dared venture in without an invitation would instantly be noticed by the Lord, and snuffed out before they could take another step.
Within the domain of a Lord, they reigned supre.
However, this particular Lord did not seem to be supre in any sense of the word. Deep within her mansion, in her incredibly vast sleeping quarters, she sat on her incredible bed—one that resembled the amalgamation of many King-sized mattresses.
Even if she was in her Dragon Form, the Lord would not be able to cover the entire space that her soft bed offered.
The walls surrounding her were painted white, with hues of blue decorating the surroundings. Her curtains were also pure, with embroidery that had light blue hue, and the sa applied to pretty much every luxurious design in the room.
Even the chandeliers followed the sa format, and they reflected gloriously on the pure white floors. Her carpet matched the sheets she used to cover her bed, and all of them blended perfectly to form a chamber worthy of a Lord.
Despite being surrounded by all of this wealth and power, however, the Lord remained hunched as she sat, covering her face with her two palms.
"H-hicc… hicc…" Loud sobs escaped her lips as she sat there, desolate and utterly in pain.
Her body trembled, and gasps escaped her gaping mouth at intervals. Even when tears had long dried up from her eyes, she still continued to drown in self pity and the writhing pain within her right eye.
'I really… lost so much… in a single day…' Her disjointed thoughts trailed as she imrsed herself in the most sorry state imaginable—at least for a Dragon Lord.
'I lost my precious subordinates, friends… and… my eye… all because of my hubris.'
She was done blaming the incompetence of everyone around her. After mulling over what happened for so long, she could see how everything was her fault.
It all stemd from her idea—the audacity she had in seeking out a loophole to defy the Emperor's orders.
'Never again… never again…'
She had now learnt her lesson, but at what cost? She had lost too much now.
Her face was forever scarred, and her perfect body was now incomplete. She was bound to be shunned by the rest of her colleagues during the upcoming eting, and it was possible that rumors of her misdeeds even spread to the Academy.
Would her precious students turn against her? Would the staff there look at her the sa way?
Frey'ja had no idea in the slightest.
Her reputation and absolute standing as an exemplary Dragon Lord had been ruined.
"Would it have been better to… di—" She suddenly stopped, not only because of the fear that accompanied her thought on death, but because she heard sothing.
… Sothing outside.
"Who's there?" She muttered, her sobbing stopping instantly as she straightened her posture and looked at the massive door in front of her.
Nothing responded.
The White Lord stared in confusion. Frey'ja was sure that she picked up a certain sound—like the kind of noise soone made when they were shuffling around.
Since she had exceptional senses, even the slightest movent would set her off.
'C-could it be him? Has he co back… to finish the job?' The image of the Great Old Dragon Lord appeared in her frightened mind as she found herself trembling.
As she thought this, certain whispers began to dance in her ears—almost like a smoldered conversation that she couldn't quite pick up.
The whispers grew louder, and then suddenly ceased.
'W-what's happening? Who's there?'
The Great Old Lord wouldn't resort to such a sneaky way, which ant the person in her premises was not him.
'If that's the case, then—!' Frey'ja gritted her teeth and clenched her fist, rising up from her bed at once.
Anyone other than The Great Old Lord and The Emperor who entered her premises were intruders. The re fact that said intruder was shuffling around and whispering ant they did not deserve a shred of her courtesy.
'If they got past the fog without detection, then they must be pretty impressive…' Frey'ja thought to herself, but she still marched forward anyway.
Perhaps the fear and pain instilled to her by the Great Old Lord made her immune to the cautious thoughts that would have caused more hesitation.
In a flash, she reached the door and even opened it wide open.
Nothing.
There was nothing there.
'W-what? What's going on…?'
She proceeded outside, first poking her head out and then her whole body. Before she realized it, she was in the passageway, looking at one side, but finding nothing there. For so strange reason, it was dark—despite the lights usually being perpetually active. Only the light from her room bled into the passageway, bathing her in showers of white, while everything else was pitch black.
Darkness was inconsequential to Frey'ja, though. She could still see perfectly fine.
'Nothing here…?'
Then—
After hearing another sudden whisper to her left, she swiftly turned and looked at the other side of the passageway.
There, seated on the ground, was a black cat.
It had completely black fur, with glowing red eyes that were fixed completely on her.
'What?!' The creature's appearance startled her, forcing her to blink with the only eye she had remaining.
Once she reopened her eye, the cat was nowhere to be found.
'What in the world? Was I hallucinating?' Perhaps this was a side effect from having only one vision that she didn't know of.
It could also be trau—
"Frey'ja." Hearing a familiar voice call her na, Frey'ja found the whisper coming from right behind her—within her bedroom.
'A-ahh… ahh…?' Slowly turning her head, as well as the rest of her body, she turned to look at the figure who sat there majestically.
'W-who… is that?!'
The strange man sat on her bed, and kneeling on the ground beside him were her two subordinates that she thought were dead. Kat'erin and Shai'ya did not look at her, though. Their heads were lowered, and they were completely still. They seed alive, but sothing was off about them—sothing that even Frey'ja could not decipher.
"Co in." The man on the bed said with a smile.
He had crimson hair, and he donned a completely black suit. Despite being in the premises of a Dragon Lord, he exhibited even more authority than her.
Frankly… he frightened Frey'ja, so she did as he said.
The mont she re-entered her bedroom, taking a few more steps forward, she heard a loud creak—the sound of the doors closing. With a widened eye, she turned to look at the reason why, but what she saw caused it to bulge and turn bloodshot.
Her three dead comrades—Tat'urius, Vul'khan, and Pro'theus—stood right behind her, blocking the room's entrance and exit. They also had dispassionate expressions on their faces, and their heads were bowed low.
—All for one person.
'What's happening here?' She didn't need anyone to tell her before realizing that all of this was occurring because of the smiling man on the bed.
But why?
'Who is he? What does he want?' As she stared at him with cautious eyes, feeling fear now rising and surging within her body, she took another step forward.
Much to her horror, the man grinned even more and parted his lips to speak.
"My na is Ater, and you and I… we have a lot to discuss."
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