Chapter : 645

Later that night, the opulent silence of Princess Isabella’s private suite in the Academy’s royal wing was a stark contrast to the chaos of the afternoon. The air smelled of lemon verbena and old books, a carefully curated atmosphere of calm and order. But for Isabella, the room felt like a cage. She paced before a low, crackling fire, the silver pin held loosely in her hand, its metallic coolness a constant, nagging reminder of the puzzle that consumed her.

Captain Eva stood by the door, a silent, imposing sentinel. She had been debriefed, shown the pin, and sworn to secrecy. Now, she served as a sounding board, a granite wall against which the princess could throw her theories.

“It makes no sense, Eva,” Isabella said for what must have been the tenth time, stopping her pacing to stare into the flames. “Run through it again. The facts. The known members of the main Ferrum line.”

Eva’s voice was a calm, steady drone, the voice of a dutiful intelligence officer reciting a familiar report. “First, Arch Duke Roy Ferrum. Master of the Steel Blood Void power. His abilities are well-documented. He is a living fortress, a master of defense and overwhelming force through the manipulation of metal. There are no credible reports of him ever wielding an elemental power, let alone fire of that magnitude. His profile does not match.”

“Agreed,” Isabella said, nodding. “He is the mountain. The White Mask was the volcano. Two different geological phenomena entirely. Next.”

“Duchess Milody Austin Ferrum. Her lineage is that of the Austins of the South. A house known for its scholars and diplomats, not its warriors. Her personal power is largely a mystery, a closely guarded family secret. However, the Austin legacy is associated with subtle Void powers of influence and perception, what some texts refer to as ‘powers of the mind.’ Nothing suggests a connection to an aggressive, destructive force like fire. Profile match: highly unlikely.”

“A mystery, but not a fire-breathing one,” Isabella mused. “It doesn't fit the profile of a frontline combatant. The White Mask fought with the brutal efficiency of a soldier. Continue.”

“Jothi Ferrum. The daughter. A prodigy. Her skills with Iron Manipulation are said to rival those of her father’s youth. She is a master of precision and control, a fencer, not a berserker. Her spirit is a Manifestation-level white tigress. Powerful, but nowhere near the Transcended-level signature we witnessed today. Furthermore, official Academy records confirm she is on a leave of absence, competing in the Azure Shield Tournament hundreds of miles from here. She has a rock-solid alibi. Profile match: impossible.”

Isabella sighed in frustration, running a hand through her hair. “So, the father is the wrong power type. The mother is the wrong profile. The daughter is in the wrong location. Which leaves…” She trailed off, a look of profound distaste crossing her face.

Eva finished the thought, her voice carefully neutral. “Which leaves the heir, Lord Lloyd Ferrum.”

Isabella let out a short, sharp laugh devoid of all humor. “Lloyd. The drab duckling. The boy who was expelled from this very institution for a complete and utter lack of martial aptitude. The soap-maker.” The very idea was so preposterous, she couldn’t even entertain it seriously. “What is his known power, Eva? Remind me.”

“His public record indicates a low-level spirit manifestation, a wolf. At the Ferrum Summit, there were rumors of it being stronger than expected, with a lightning affinity. His Void power was assumed to be a rudimentary form of Iron Body, though he later demonstrated a more advanced control over steel wires. In his duel with Victor, he manifested chains, the true Steel Blood. Powerful, yes. Unexpected, certainly. But it was still steel. It was still a Ferrum power.”

“Exactly,” Isabella said, seizing on the point. “Steel and lightning. Not a demonic inferno. And the power gap… Eva, what we saw today was a force that could challenge my father. To suggest that Lloyd Ferrum, the boy who cried in the market, possesses that kind of strength is to suggest that a housecat can hunt dragons. It defies all reason. The profile match is not just impossible; it is laughable.”

She fell silent, staring into the fire again. The logic was a closed loop, a perfect circle of impossibility. Roy, Milody, Jothi, Lloyd. None of them fit. None of them could be the White Mask.

And yet, the pin in her hand was cold, hard, and undeniably real. It was a fact that refused to be reconciled with the known reality.

“If a conclusion is impossible,” she murmured, quoting one of her old tutors, “then one of your foundational assumptions must be wrong.”

Chapter : 646

She began to pace again, her mind working furiously. “Assumption one: the pin belongs to the White Mask. We saw it fall. It is our only piece of physical evidence. Let us assume it is true. Assumption two: the pin is genuine. The craftsmanship confirms it. Let us assume that is also true. Therefore, the White Mask is a member of the main Ferrum line.”

She stopped, turning to face Eva, her eyes wide with a new, chilling thought. “If our list of known family members is correct, and none of them can be the perpetrator, then the only remaining possibility… the only logical conclusion…”

Her voice dropped to a whisper, the implication so vast and so dangerous that she hesitated to even speak it aloud.

“Our list is incomplete.”

---

Captain Eva’s stoic expression finally broke, a flicker of profound shock crossing her features. “Incomplete, Your Highness? House Ferrum’s main line is one of the most scrutinized families in the kingdom. Their lineage is a matter of public record.”

“Is it?” Isabella countered, her mind now racing down this new, terrifying path. “Public records can be altered. Histories can be rewritten. Great Houses are masters of secrecy, Eva. They are fortresses of information, and their deepest secrets are buried in the lowest dungeons. We see only the walls they want us to see.”

She began to connect this new theory to the day’s events. “Think of it. The power we saw today was overwhelming, but it was also controlled. It was the power of a trained, seasoned warrior. It was not the raw, untamed power of someone who had just awakened their abilities. This was not a new development. This was a weapon that has been honed for years, in secret.”

Her eyes took on a far-off, calculating look. “Why would Arch Duke Roy hide a child? A son, most likely, given the martial prowess we witnessed. Perhaps a bastard, to avoid a political scandal? No, the power was too pure; it felt like a true scion. Perhaps a child born with a power so dangerous, so… un-Ferrum, that he had to be hidden away from the world, trained in isolation to be the family’s ultimate trump card, their hidden dagger?”

The theory, as wild as it was, began to fit the facts with an alarming neatness. A secret son, trained in secret, wielding a secret power. It would explain everything. It would explain the appearance of a Ferrum warrior whose abilities did not match the family’s known legacy. It would explain the sheer, overwhelming power on display. It would explain why no one in the kingdom had ever heard of such a being.

“A third child,” Eva whispered, the words sounding like treason. “A ghost. A secret weapon.”

“Precisely,” Isabella affirmed, the theory solidifying in her mind from a wild speculation into a working hypothesis. “This ‘White Mask’ is not Lloyd Ferrum playing dress-up. He is the other son. The true warrior of his generation, while Lloyd was pushed into the public eye as a convenient, non-threatening decoy.”

This new narrative re-contextualized everything she thought she knew about the Ferrum family. Lloyd’s mediocrity was not a failure; it was a function. He was the perfect cover, the drab duckling who drew all the attention while the family’s true swan, a monstrous fire-hawk, was being raised in the shadows. His recent, surprising successes in business and politics? Likely orchestrated by his family to make the decoy more convincing. It was all a grand, decades-long deception.

A shiver that had nothing to do with the night’s chill ran down her spine. The political cunning of Arch Duke Roy Ferrum was legendary, but if this theory was true, then he was playing a game so deep and so long that no one, not even her father the King, had seen it.

She felt a surge of exhilaration. This was a secret of the highest order, a truth that could shake the very foundations of the kingdom. Uncovering it would be the greatest political victory of her life.

“Eva,” she said, her voice now filled with a cold, clear purpose. “Our mission has a new primary objective. We are no longer hunting the White Mask. We are hunting for a ghost. I want you to use the Crown’s intelligence network. I want every record of the Ferrum family from the last twenty-five years cross-referenced. Birth records, household expenses, travel logs, land acquisitions. Look for anomalies. Gaps in the timeline. Unexplained expenditures. Anything that suggests the existence of a person who is not officially on the books.”

She held up the pin. “This is our only link. The existence of a fire-wielding Ferrum. All other intelligence must be considered through that lens. Dismiss what we think we know, and focus on what this piece of evidence proves.”

“It will be difficult, Your Highness,” Eva warned. “The Arch Duke’s own intelligence network is second only to the Crown’s. Prying into his family’s private affairs is… dangerous.”

“I am well aware of the danger, Captain,” Isabella said, a fierce, predatory smile touching her lips. “That is what makes it so very interesting.”

She turned back to the window, looking out at the dark, sleeping city. She had been humiliated today. She had been made to feel weak and helpless. But her enemy had made a single, fatal mistake. He had dropped a clue. And with that clue, she would unravel his entire world. The hunt for Roy Ferrum’s secret son had begun. And Princess Isabella intended to be the one to drag him, kicking and screaming, into the light.