Arnor had appeared at the dining hall entrance at so point. He maintained his elegant noble bearing, but his eyes carried an unmistakable air of authority.
The Initiates exchanged uneasy glances and quickly dispersed.
While secular noble titles ant little here, Arnor was still the Thirteenth Prince of the Farwynd Kingdom. The power behind that na was not to be taken lightly, at least not by re Initiates.
"These people..." Arnor walked to Robb's side, chuckling lightly.
"When Dagon mutated yesterday, every last one of them hid in their rooms too scared to crack their doors. Now they're all falling over themselves to ingratiate."
Robb nodded slightly. "I have zero interest in socializing with these people. Thanks for stepping in, Arnor."
"Then let's go sowhere quieter." Arnor smiled and gestured invitingly. "I've got so fresh scones at my place. Better than this black bread, at least."
They arrived at Arnor's room, which was noticeably better furnished than the typical Initiate's quarters.
A small table held several steaming scones beside a teapot wafting floral fragrance.
"You know," Arnor said, pouring tea for Robb with a grin, "I never expected you'd actually take down a mutated Dagon. And with a wooden sword, no less. Sha I wasn't in the dormitory area, I'd have co to back you up."
Robb took a sip of tea. "Just lucky."
"Lucky?" Arnor studied him with amusent. "You're getting awfully modest these days. Back in the capital, if you'd pulled off sothing like that, you'd have bragged about it to the entire city."
Robb couldn't help but shake his head at the jab. "That's all in the past."
"True enough." Arnor bit into a scone, a probing look in his eyes. "But seriously, the change in you has been remarkable. Daily practice of the Solar Breath, constant study at the herb shop, and now you've got a sonic spell concept under your belt..."
He paused, giving Robb a knowing, half-amused look.
"If I hadn't watched you get here step by step, I'd almost suspect you'd been possessed by so powerful entity."
"Possessed?" Robb's heart skipped, his Dual Soul talent ca to mind, but outwardly he remained calm. "I just don't want to sit here waiting to die."
"Indeed." Arnor's expression suddenly turned serious. "But you need to be more careful lately. Especially around Marcus."
Robb set down his teacup. "What do you an?"
"That guy may only be an ordinary Initiate, but his elder brother, Oliver, is a High Apprentice on the verge of breaking through to Morning Star Mage."
The golden-haired prince's voice dropped low. "Within the faction, Oliver is on the sa level as Lord Hadrian, and he's made considerable achievents in cursed sorcery research."
He paused, choosing his words carefully. "It's precisely because he has such a powerful backer that Marcus acts so brazenly. Most of the Initiates he's taken as servants have ended up as test subjects for his brother's spell experints."
Robb fell into thought. No wonder Emily had suffered such a terrible fate after pledging herself to Marcus. The outco had probably been sealed the mont she chose that path.
"So..." Arnor's tone grew heavier. "You've been drawing too much attention lately. Marcus himself may only be an Initiate, but his brother Oliver has been researching so extrely bizarre special spells, apparently related to spirit power extraction."
His words carried a pointed weight.
"Given the talent and potential you've been displaying, the two brothers may very well have their eyes on you. Lady Elena and Lord Hadrian offer so protection, but caution is still paramount."
"Understood."
Robb nodded. He'd already noticed the apprentice with a taste for collecting "beautiful servants" casting cold glances his way on more than one occasion.
"Don't worry too much, though." Arnor's elegant smile returned. "With those two acquaintances of yours, he shouldn't dare act too openly. And besides..."
He gave Robb a searching look. "With the strength you've shown so far, even if he did make a move, he probably wouldn't get much out of it."
Robb smiled but didn't take the bait. He changed the subject. "By the way, any news from the market lately?"
"You an the black market rchants?" Arnor shook his head. "After the Dagon incident, they seem to have pulled back. Though..."
His gaze turned deep as he looked out the window. "This calm probably won't last. As the evaluation deadline closes in, the desperate will always take desperate asures."
"You're right." Robb watched the darkening sky, calculating silently.
Dagon's fate had left a deep impression. Though his own progress was going smoothly, ti was still tight.
He needed to master the sonic spell concept as quickly as possible while continuing to develop his other abilities.
"It's getting late." Arnor stood. "You've got your own things to attend to, I imagine?"
Robb nodded, gathered his belongings, and prepared to leave.
Next on the agenda. thoroughly study Dagon's notes and push the unfinished sonic spell prototype to the next level.
At the doorway, Arnor suddenly called out. "Robb."
"Yes?"
"You know..." A playful smile crossed Arnor's face. "I'm rather glad I never had any conflicts with you back in the capital."
Robb blinked, then understood his aning.
"Don't worry. That wastrel died on the road to the Black Mist Order." He half-turned and answered mildly.
"Indeed." Arnor gave him a pointed look. "And what replaced him is an unpredictable, terrifying monster."
Robb couldn't help but laugh at the description. "A monster, hm..."
This world was all about survival of the fittest. If living here ant becoming a monster, then perhaps that's exactly what he'd have to be.
He left Arnor's room. The corridor outside was already cloaked in twilight.
Crooked shadows along the path stretched like the hooked claws of phantoms in the dimming light.
Prying, restless gazes still darted his way from ti to ti. But Robb no longer cared.
All he needed to do was keep getting stronger, until he was powerful enough to seize full control of his destiny in this cruel world.
Before true strength, all covetous sches would crumble to nothing.
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