Racheal had tried to locate Jessica first. She stretched her Clairvoyance as far as it would reach, but the distance was staggering, like trying to glimpse a star from the bottom of a well. Her guardian was gone from her physical reach, leaving only silence where her presence should have been. With no other choice, Racheal turned her focus elsewhere.
That was when she’d detected Leon.
The trace had carried her to Shantel, to the lords manor, and now here, to this room, to the figure claiming to be him. Yet as she stood with her bow lowered, watching the man with violet eyes and white hair, nothing about the scene sat right.
’The more I use my talent to find him, the more I get nothing,’ she thought, unease tightening her chest. ’It’s as if he’s vanished from existence.’ There were only two explanations for such a disappearance: either there was a dinsional interference, like him being in the trial world while she wasn’t or... he was dead.
Her gaze flicked back to the stranger. His voice carried sothing familiar. The cadence. The bluntness. If she listened closely, he did sound like Leon. But her talent told her nothing. Their was no beacon or trace, just emptiness.
’If this man is indeed Leon... what happened to him to change so drastically? And why can’t I detect him?’
Still skeptical, she straightened and asked aloud, "Prove that it’s you."
Leon’s lips curved in faint amusent. "Telling you about God’s Temple should be enough proof."
Racheal hesitated, then exhaled slowly. ’Fair point,’ she admitted to herself. Few knew what had happened there. And fewer still had survived it.
She studied him a mont longer before conceding, "What happened to you that made you change so drastically?"
Leon’s expression cooled, his voice dismissive. "It’s a long story. You don’t need to worry about it."
"Fine," Racheal replied after a pause, her tone clipped. "It’s your secret to keep." She turned toward the door, her steps asured, but added over her shoulder, "Your follower will be shocked when he finds out."
Leon already had a good idea who she ant. ’Jas.’
’Why do I feel another headache coming?’ Leon thought dryly as he followed Racheal out of the room.
****
Leon and Racheal stepped out of the room together. The air in the corridor felt heavier sohow, quieter, as though the manor itself was waiting. Leon’s hand brushed against the fabric of the black robe draped around his shoulders. It took him only a second to realize.
’Wait... this isn’t mine.’ His steps slowed as the thought struck him. ’Did she put this on ?’
His face beca carefully expressionless, but his mind wasn’t. ’And I’m not wearing anything underneath.’
Before he could spiral further, the steady rhythm of footsteps interrupted his thoughts. They drew closer, stopping just ahead. Leon raised his gaze, and there stood Jas, flanked by his squad.
"He is awake," Jas said, almost to himself. As he turned his eyes toward Leon, ready to ask if Racheal had discovered the Lord’s whereabouts.
Then he froze.
Jas’s pupils dilated, his expression slackened. His lips parted as if words had abandoned him. Behind him, the rest of the squad mirrored his reaction, staring and wide-eyed, as though their very wills were being pulled apart thread by thread.
Leon frowned.
"Why is he looking at like that? Could it be,"
Before he could finish the thought, Racheal’s sharp voice cut through the silence. "Look away from them."
Leon blinked. "What?"
"It’s your eyes," she said, her tone curt but edged with concern. "They carry so kind of hypnotic effect. The weaker they are compared to you, the harder it is for them to resist."
Leon’s shock spiked. Hypnotic? My eyes? He turned his gaze aside quickly, away from Jas and the others. The effect broke instantly, their bodies jerked, their breaths staggered, awareness snapping back like a taut string.
Crystal rubbed at her temples, groaning faintly. "What... what happened?"
Jas’s expression hardened, suspicion flashing in his eyes. "What did you do to us?"
Leon stood still for a mont, aware that looking directly at them again would only make things worse. Speaking with his face turned away felt absurd and undignified.
So, instead, he improvised.
He tilted his chin upward, puffed out his chest, and folded his arms over the robe as though standing on so grand pedestal. His voice ca out slow, deliberate. "Is that how you speak to your lord?"
Jas was struck silent, his mind split between confusion and disbelief.
Racheal, watching from the side, couldn’t stop the faint shake of her head. What antics is he up to now?
****
Jas was taken aback by the question. His brows shot up, disbelief flickering across his face. "Lord?"
"Yes," Leon replied, still holding the sa posture, chin tilted upward, arms folded over his chest. "Or can’t you recognize ?"
Jas studied him carefully. His lips parted, hesitating. "But... you do not look like our Lord."
Leon didn’t have the patience for this. His expression never changed as he connected to his inventory and drew out the sword. The blade dropped with a heavy clang, driving itself into the floor between them. Leon still didn’t move, standing in that sa commanding stance.
Jas’s eyes widened. Recognition hit him instantly. He dropped to one knee, head bowed. "My Lord."
His squadmates, startled but not daring to hesitate, followed his lead. One by one they knelt, their voices joining in unison. "We greet the Lord."
Leon allowed the silence to linger a heartbeat longer. Then, finally, he spoke. "You may rise."
They obeyed quickly. But the truth was, it wasn’t the sword that convinced them, it was the inventory. Anyone could claim a blade after killing its owner, but pulling objects from thin air? That was sothing only Leon had ever done before their eyes.
After dismissing them, Jas and his squad left quietly, not daring to ask more.
Leon exhaled slowly, turning his gaze toward Racheal. Now it made sense, why she’d avoided his eyes earlier, why she kept her distance. He studied her face, then asked, "How were you able to find ?"
Her eyes flicked away. "I’d rather not say."
With that, she turned and began walking off.
Leon stood there for a mont, watching her retreating figure. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he murmured, "Fair enough."
He adjusted the robe around his shoulders, then followed her out of the manor.
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