For a heartbeat, Seraphina looked like she might protest again — cling to him, beg him to stay — but the seriousness in his eyes stopped her. He wasn’t just so wandering fighter anymore. He was sothing greater — sothing the world was beginning to take notice of.
"Fine..." she whispered, trying to hide the tremor in her voice. "But you’d better co back. I still have things to say to you."
"I know," he said, smiling faintly. "And like I said before, I haven’t forgotten. I’ll give you your due attention soon."
He pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering just long enough to calm her restless heart before stepping back. She watched him go, feeling a quiet ache she didn’t understand.
****
That night
Seraphina stood alone in her chamber when the letter arrived — a sealed parchnt carried by no visible ssenger, its edges glowing faintly with royal wax. The air itself seed to still, heavy with sothing unspoken.
Her eyes widened the mont she saw the crest pressed into the seal — the sigil of the Imperial House.
Her pulse quickened. The Emperor? No... that couldn’t be.
She tore it open carefully, her heart pounding against her ribs. The handwriting was elegant — unfamiliar — but the words... the words sent a chill down her spine.
’To the Lady of Valemont — You carry a bloodline that once sat upon the throne. The moon does not hide its light forever. When the ti cos, the truth will seek you.’
Her hand trembled slightly. "Bloodline... of the throne? What’s going on..." she whispered, her voice breaking with disbelief.
There was no na. No seal of the Emperor himself. Just the sigil, the wax, and those haunting words written in gold ink that shimred faintly under the candlelight — as though the ssage was alive, aware.
The fla flickered, and for a mont she thought she saw the shadow of a crown in the reflection of her mirror. She turned sharply, but the room was empty.
The wind whispered through the open window, stirring the curtains like ghostly fingers.
And yet, sowhere deep within her, a strange unease began to bloom — a cold, creeping dread that told her life in Velmora would never be the sa again.
As the candle burned lower, the sigil lted into the parchnt, fading as if it had never existed — leaving Seraphina alone with nothing but questions, and a na echoing in her heart that she could not bring herself to say aloud.
****
anwhile, in the manor courtyard
From the shadows, Lloyd watched her through the faint reflection of the window. His usual smile was gone — replaced by a thoughtful, bitter smirk.
"So... the ga finally begins," he murmured to himself. His gaze followed Seraphina’s silhouette — soft, radiant, oblivious.
"She won’t see it coming."
The wind stirred his butler’s coat as he turned away, his eyes glinting with quiet ambition. "And when he falls short... I’ll be the one standing by her side before the Emperor himself."
He vanished down the corridor
"****
anwhile, The morning sun hung low above Velmora, its pale light veiled by drifting mist that clung to the city’s stone spires. Xavier’s boots struck the cobbled path with asured rhythm, each step echoing faintly between the narrow streets. The distant toll of the bell tower marked the start of the working day — but for him, this day marked sothing else entirely.
He’d felt it since dawn: a subtle pressure in the air, a shift in how people looked at him. The world was beginning to sense his presence. His current existence is at Divinity, it’ll be extrely hard for him to supress it among Mortals... Like he’ll be subconsciously viewed as a superior.
He continued walking, as he passed through the rchant square, he overheard two guards conversing in hushed tones near a stall of dried herbs.
"You hear the rumor? Another Imperial agent arrived last night — discreet, but everyone knows where he’s from."
"From the Capital?"
"Aye. They say he’s investigating the bloodlines of noble families. The Emperor’s been restless lately."
The other guard frowned.
"Velmora’s got no reason to worry. The Lady’s as loyal as they co."
The first one shrugged.
"Maybe. But there’s talk her lineage isn’t as simple as it looks."
Xavier’s eyes narrowed faintly as he walked past them. He didn’t slow, but his mind turned sharp. So it’s already spreading... whatever that letter contained is stirring up more than she realized.
He exhaled slowly, adjusting his gauntlet. "All the more reason to make this quick."
The streets gradually widened as he neared the adventurers’ district — a sprawling quarter filled with smithies, potion vendors, and guild-approved inns. The sll of molten iron mingled with roasted at and spilled ale, creating the oddly comforting chaos every adventurer ca to love.
A group of young warriors stood near a notice board plastered with bounty sheets. One of them, barely in his twenties, spoke with excitent.
"You guys heard about the wyvern subjugation last week? Rumor says one man handled the whole thing solo. No crest, no guild rank, nothing!"
"Bullshit," another scoffed. "No one below Saint Rank could’ve done that. Probably an embellished tale."
"You’re saying that because you can’t imagine it," the first one retorted. "What if he’s real? A ghost adventurer — moving between territories without records?"
Xavier allowed a faint smirk to tug at the corner of his lips as he passed. A ghost adventurer, huh... I’ll take that.
***
When the Adventurer’s Guild finally ca into view, it was every bit as grand as he’d imagined — a massive structure of blackstone and glass, banners fluttering high above its arched doors. The sigil of the Guild — a sword crossing over a pair of wings — glimred in sunlight like molten silver.
Even before he stepped in, Xavier could feel it: mana signatures layered one atop another — the strength of hundreds of registered adventurers, all bound by oath and record.
He approached the gates calmly. Whispers followed.
"Who’s that?" "Never seen him before..." "His mana’s... heavy."
He paid them no mind.
The guards at the entrance instinctively stepped aside — they didn’t recognize his face, but instinct scread not to block his way.
***
Inside the Guild Hall
The doors swung open with a low groan. Warm light spilled out, illuminating a vast hall filled with rows of wooden counters, polished mana-crystal chandeliers, and the endless chatter of adventurers filing missions or boasting of their spoils.
A receptionist in silver-trimd uniform looked up from her desk, montarily startled by the sight of him. "Ah— welco to the Velmora Adventurer’s Guild. Are you here to register?"
Xavier nodded once, his tone calm but firm. "Yes. I’m here to take the guild examination."
Her eyes flickered briefly to the faint aura emanating from him through his mana before she smiled nervously and gestured toward the back. "Please proceed to the testing chamber. The guild examiner will see you shortly."
He didn’t even know of the pressure he was imposing months normal people.
As he walked through the crowd, dozens of curious eyes followed.
****
The clang of steel doors echoed softly behind Xavier as he stepped into the Adventurer’s Guild.
The air inside was thick with noise — laughter, argunts, and the low murmur of people bartering information. The scent of ale, parchnt, and leather mixed together, an oddly comforting chaos that spoke of danger, gold, and ambition.
For a mont, Xavier stood still, his eyes sweeping across the hall. Dozens of rcenaries, mages, and beastkin filled the space. So compared scars at the tables, others leaned close over maps scattered with ink marks. But despite the bustle, he felt a subtle tension — like the hum before a storm.
As he walked deeper in, a few heads turned. So eyes lingered too long.
Rumors had spread fast since Velmora’s last incident — the black-haired stranger who had helped in the eastern quarter, the mysterious man spotted near the cathedral on the night of the blue fla. No one had proof, but stories had a way of growing on their own.
He could hear whispers but he ignored them all. He’d gotten used to attention he didn’t ask for.
At the far end of the hall stood a counter of polished oak, manned by an attendant in a crisp blue uniform. She looked up imdiately as he approached, professional but visibly cautious. The guild might have seen all kinds of travelers, but Xavier’s aura — quiet, self-contained, almost predatory — tended to make people instinctively careful with their words.
"Good afternoon," she began, her voice steady but polite. "Welco to the Velmora Adventurer’s Guild. Are you here to post a quest or register as an adventurer?"
"Register," he replied simply, placing his guild recomndation letter on the counter.
Her eyes flicked to the sealed parchnt — bearing the crimson wax sigil of Velmora’s Defense Corps.
The change in her expression was imdiate. Surprise, then quiet respect. She broke the seal and read swiftly, her brows arching slightly as she reached the end.
***
AN/
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