Greyhold had grown used to the sound of Arden's party training in the halls and courtyards.

Since the incident with the hybrid, they had become a steady presence in the town.

The routine was simple, cultivation at dawn, sparring in the afternoon, and talks with the lord in the evening.

Yet beyond Greyhold's walls, the rest of the kingdom had not been idle.

Whispers carried fast. A party of newcomers, all too young by the kingdom's standards, not only surviving against the Purity Creed but standing in their way. For the great clans, that was enough to stir curiosity. Arden had already caught their attention back when he claimed the ruin, but now the interest burned hotter.

He was still unreadable, achieving feats that didn't align with any common logic. And it wasn't just him anymore.

Nyra and Rael's names had begun to spread too. Dual affinity mages were already rare to find, and didn't even survive long in the outlands, but dual affinity fighters who had already displayed mastery of their elements, it was never found before. Their control had made them more than simple curiosities, they were seen as rising threats, or perhaps prizes to be won.

But for now, the party didn't care. They stepped out of the Artificer's Guild with smiles on their faces, still buzzing from the weapons Belric had just unveiled. Rael couldn't stop flexing his gauntlet, sending off faint sparks of lightning as he walked. Nyra twirled her new staff, the faint whistle of wind answering her every spin. Even Zephyra padded along with a low, satisfied growl, her claws still faintly glowing with their new armor.

"Belric might be grumpy," Rael said with a grin, "but I could hug him for this."

Nyra smirked. "You'd crush him with that gauntlet before you even managed."

"Not my fault he's fragile."

Arden chuckled, carrying his blade still sheathed at his side. "You're both fragile when you think about it. Don't get too carried away."

Rael shot him a look. "Says the one with the fancy sword."

"That's the difference," Arden replied lightly. "Mine doesn't need bragging. It speaks for itself."

Their laughter carried down the street as they passed between the bustle of Greyhold.

Merchants shouted their wares, children ran between stalls, and for once the group blended into the life of the town.

But then Arden stopped.

His steps slowed, his eyes narrowing slightly as his hand brushed the hilt of his sword.

The others noticed and followed his lead, their chatter fading into silence. Ahead, figures approached, six of them, dressed in layered robes and trimmed cloaks, the sort of regal attire only high-standing elders would dare wear in public.

Their presence pressed faintly against the street, like a weight carried in the air.

Arden didn't move, his voice calm, almost bored. "Friends of yours?"

The group halted a few paces away, their auras restrained but not hidden.

One of them finally stepped forward, his face lined with age but his eyes sharp. "We are envoys of the allied clans and guilds. Not bound to one, but formed by many. We've come seeking an audience with you, Arden."

Arden raised a brow. "You've found me, haven't you? Say what you want."

The elder's gaze flicked to the rest of the party, then back to Arden. "Privately. There are matters best spoken away from the open street."

The weight of their voices carried authority, but Arden's expression didn't shift.

His fingers drummed lightly on his sheath, his tone steady. "I don't remember inviting you here. And I don't like the way you appear out of nowhere with all that grandeur, expecting me to follow along."

The elder frowned, but before he could respond another voice cut through the square.

"Enough."

It was firm, commanding, and familiar. Arden's lips curved faintly as he recognized it.

The crowd parted slightly as the lord strode forward with several elders of Greyhold trailing behind.

His presence was calm but unyielding, his gaze fixed on the envoys. "If you've come to speak with them, you'll do so through me. They are under this town's protection."

The envoy who had spoken turned, his voice sharp. "Lord Kaelus. This does not concern your town."

"It does," the lord answered smoothly. "They are registered here. Their training, their work, their battles, they are part of Greyhold now. That gives me the right to know what concerns them."

The envoy bristled, his companions shifting, but Kaelus didn't move, his calm gaze pinning them where they stood. Arden crossed his arms, letting the lord speak, though his smirk lingered.

"You would stop us from speaking with him?" another envoy asked coldly.

"I would," Kaelus replied. "And not because I fear what you'll say, but because I know what comes next. Invitations. Promises. Demands. You'll try to pull them into your struggles, the same way you've done with countless others before. I won't have it without my consent."

The envoys exchanged glances, muttering among themselves. Their voices carried quiet irritation, but it was clear the lord's presence left them with little room to press further.

At last, the first envoy sighed, bowing his head slightly. "Very well. We will not force the matter here. But know this, we will return.

And sooner or later, the boy will have to answer." His eyes flicked back to Arden, sharp with meaning.

Arden finally spoke again, his voice low but steady. "You're too confident in the answer I'll give."

The envoy's mouth tightened, but he said no more. With a wave of his hand, the group turned, their regal robes trailing behind them as they left the street.

Silence lingered for a moment before Kaelus looked at Arden. "You'll be hearing more of this. Greyhold won't shield you from everything."

"I know," Arden said simply. His gaze lingered on the path the envoys had taken, then he gave a short shrug. "But it's not like I ever expected peace to last."

Rael exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. "Great. More old men looking to drag us into their games."

Nyra's tone was softer, though her eyes were sharp. "It's starting, isn't it? The moment where everyone comes calling."

Zephyra let out a low growl, her voice rough but clear. "Let them come. I'll tear through them if I must."

Arden chuckled under his breath, the sound quiet but sure. "No need to rush. We'll deal with them when it matters."

The lord clasped his hands behind his back, his expression unreadable. "I'll handle the formalities for now. You'll know soon enough what they want."

He turned, motioning for the elders of Greyhold to follow as he left with the visiting envoys, his figure cutting calm authority even as whispers spread through the square.

Arden's party stood together in the street, the crowd around them buzzing with curiosity.

Their earlier joy hadn't vanished, but it was shadowed now by the weight of what lay ahead.

Rael broke the silence first, muttering, "This is going to get messy, isn't it?"

Arden's smirk returned, faint but steady. "Of course it is. That's the only way forward."

The group moved on, though each of them carried the same thought unspoken, whatever the future held, it was no longer theirs alone.

A/N:

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