Hadric’s voice grew quieter, but edged with mory. "I thought my strength was enough for this world," he said. "So I set out to see what lay beyond the empire’s borders. I t comrades along the way, good n and won. We fought side by side, defeated beasts, explored ancient ruins, and faced strange powers hidden in the dark corners of the land."
He paused, his gaze lowering slightly. "But nothing... nothing could compare to their kind."
Lumberling leaned forward a little. "Their kind?"
"At the far east of the empire," Hadric continued, his tone turning grim, "there lies a kingdom called Aeryndor. It’s a place ruled by those who ride wyverns... and those who carry the blood of dragons."
Lumberling’s eyes widened. "Dragons? So they really exist in this world."
"They do," the Duke said, nodding slowly. "Every one of them is a blessed soul. From birth, their bodies hold strength equal to that of a True Knight. So even surpass it without lifting a sword. When I discovered that... I was in awe."
He gave a faint, bitter smile. "And like fools, my comrades and I thought we could uncover their secret. We believed we could claim a fragnt of their power for ourselves."
The smile faded, replaced by sothing heavier. "We were wrong. We had crossed a line we should never have touched." His fingers tightened slightly around his teacup. "If only I could turn back ti..." he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.
"All of them died," Hadric said softly, his voice trembling. "My comrades, my people... friends, family. Everyone." He let out a shaky breath, eyes distant as if watching ghosts of the past. "I survived only because I hid beneath their bodies, pretending to be dead among the fallen."
His hands clenched tighter around the teacup, knuckles pale. "From that day on, I ca back to the empire and never set foot beyond its borders again. Even now... I don’t know if those monsters are still hunting ." Even his hands trembled as he spoke, and Lumberling could clearly see the raw fear flickering in the Duke’s eyes, sothing that didn’t belong to a man of his stature.
’Is this why he lives in isolation... afraid the past might co knocking?’ Lumberling watched quietly.
’A kingdom of wyverns and dragons... Interesting.’
"I’m sorry to hear that, Senior," Lumberling finally said, voice low. "I... I don’t really know what to say."
Hadric drew in a deep breath and slowly released it, forcing his shoulders to relax. "This is the fate of the weak," he said calmly, though his eyes still carried that haunted glint. "There’s nothing to feel sorry about."
"I don’t agree with you, Senior," Lumberling said firmly. "You’re not weak. You walk a path no one else can, martial arts. It’s sothing unique, sothing that belongs only to us. I doubt anyone else in this world could do what we can."
Hadric’s lips curved into a faint, tired smile. "You’re right about that. But it’s no longer just us," he said, his tone soft but proud. "My subordinates can practice martial arts now. I taught them myself."
Lumberling’s eyes slightly brightened. ’So this is it... we’re finally getting to what I ca here for.’
"That’s actually sothing I’ve been curious about, Senior," he said. "How were your n able to cultivate? That shouldn’t be possible unless..."
"I created a cultivation technique suited for this world," Hadric interrupted gently, setting down his cup.
Lumberling blinked, impressed. "So that’s how it is... you’re incredible, Senior."
A brief chuckle escaped the Duke’s lips. "It’s the only thing that kept going after losing everything. I poured all my ti, centuries of it into building that technique."
"That’s really amazing, Senior," Lumberling said sincerely.
Hadric nodded with a faint smile, then turned his gaze toward the window again. "Anyway, your companions must be waiting for you. We’ve talked long enough," he said quietly. "...And I could use so ti alone to think things through."
"I understand, Senior," Lumberling said, rising from his seat with a small smile. "Then let’s talk again another ti. Oh, before I forget, my real na is Lumberling."
Hadric turned his gaze back to him, studying his face before letting out a low chuckle. "You’ve got guts, using the Iron Legion’s na and lying straight to my face. But... I understand. You wouldn’t have made it past my guards otherwise."
"That’s right," Lumberling admitted with a grin. "Senior truly sees through everything. I apologize for bluffing my way in." He gave a slight bow, his tone respectful but lighthearted.
Hadric shook his head with a faint smirk. "You remind of myself when I was younger."
They both headed toward the staircase, descending to the ground floor where Knight Corven and Lumberling’s four companions had been waiting anxiously.
When they saw him safe and unhard, Lireath finally let out a long sigh of relief.
To everyone’s surprise, Duke Hadric stepped forward and extended his hand to Lumberling.
"It was nice talking with you," Hadric said with a small, genuine smile. "For the first ti in a long while, it feels like a bit of the weight on my chest has been lifted."
"Likewise, Senior," Lumberling replied, returning the handshake with equal warmth. "Call for anyti. I’ll be happy to have another chat."
Lireath and the elves exchanged stunned glances, each silently questioning how the two of them had suddenly grown so close. It was as if years of friendship had ford in just a few hours.
As Lumberling and his group stepped out of the red pavilion, Corven remained behind, still trying to process what had just happened.
When the Duke turned to leave, Corven finally spoke up. "My Lord, what exactly happened back there?"
"Nothing much," Hadric said, glancing over his shoulder with a faint smile. "Just t a fellow from the sa holand."
Corven blinked, unsure what he ant by that, but before he could ask further, Hadric added, "Before I forget, go and fetch Paul from their compound."
Corven stiffened. "He’s... alive?"
Hadric didn’t answer. He simply walked back toward his office, his robe trailing lightly against the floor.
Corven stood there, dumbfounded. Whatever had happened in that room between Lumberling and his Lord, it had changed sothing. And though questions swirled in his mind, he dared not speak them aloud. With a quiet sigh, he turned and went to carry out the Duke’s command.
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