CHAPTER 58: CHAPTER 58

A full week had slipped by since the day Lucien collapsed in the garden swing, and life within the Velebrandt estate returned to its steady rhythm. The maids moved with practiced grace through marble halls bathed in sunlight, while the knights patrolled the mansion with quiet discipline. The memories of the odd incident were tucked away—faded like the trailing edge of a dream.

Lucien, now awake in his bedroom, sat propped against a cluster of plush pillows, draped in silk sleepwear, the gold trim reflecting softly in the morning light that filtered through the grand arched windows. His silver hair was unkempt, messily falling around his face as he absentmindedly touched his temples. A familiar soreness clung to his body, not agonizing, but undeniably present—as though he had been under an immense strain his body didn’t remember.

"What in the world even happened to me?" he murmured to himself.

No one had given him any clear explanation beyond faint suggestions of exhaustion. He remembered feeling drowsy, and then—nothing. A gap in memory that troubled him more than he admitted. Still, life went on, and the estate buzzed with its usual activities.

Maid Marie, ever-dutiful, resumed her daily tasks as if nothing had happened. She occasionally passed Lucien with a warm smile and careful inquiries about his well-being, but behind her gaze was a flicker of something—a hollow space she couldn’t explain. She, too, couldn’t recall why she and Knight Rex had been found dozing in the underground lounge, yet the concern had passed quickly, buried under layers of duty.

Knight Rex himself remained his usual stern, unwavering self, though his sharp eyes occasionally lingered on Lucien longer than before, as if trying to read something buried deep beneath the boy’s calm expression. He, too, felt something was amiss, but lacked the threads to follow. And so, with no further incidents, the household returned to normalcy.

Grand Duke Aldric Velebrandt, however, had been far from idle.

For days he had locked himself in his private study, pouring over military doctrines, magic theory tomes, aura manuals, and piles of historical training scrolls. The great Duke—known as the strongest of the six Archdukes of the Empire—was not a man to leave anything to chance. And when it came to his son, his blood, the heir to House Velebrandt—no amount of effort was excessive.

He worked tirelessly to craft the perfect training schedule for Lucien, considering every detail: maximizing growth without breaking the boy’s spirit, balancing physical training with mental conditioning, and even including restorative windows to maintain Lucien’s youthful stamina. The plan was not just for strength—but for longevity, discipline, and survival.

Lucien, in the meantime, was told that his awakened power was aura. He received the news with little reaction—a simple nod and a murmur of, "That makes sense."

He remembered clearly that, back when he customized his character in that strange game, he had selected sword-related talents—a reflection of his childhood dreams of being a cool swordsman. He hadn’t thought too deeply at the time. Now, that choice had bound itself to his very existence.

Still, he was strictly ordered not to use his power until proper training began. His aura, though awakened, was raw—untamed and potentially dangerous.

So Lucien kept himself busy.

He often watched his five-year-old younger brother, Emilien, train in the private courtyard—a vast field enclosed by white-stone walls where flowers and blades danced side-by-side. Emilien, though still a child, swung his training sword with determination, his small form guided by one of House Velebrandt’s senior knights. The boy had fire in his eyes—a budding warrior in the making.

Lucien would watch from a shaded stone bench, sipping tea or fruit water, occasionally giving his brother silent encouragement. Though his own training had yet to begin, he admired the spirit Emilien showed—a reminder of what it meant to begin with nothing but will.

At other times, Lucien tended to his baby sister, Amanda—a month-old bundle of warm softness and innocent wonder. He held her with surprising gentleness, watching her little hands grasp at the air as if trying to seize the stars. Her laughter, barely more than coos, became a light in the mansion.

He shared many of these quiet moments with his mother, Seraphina Lysandra Velebrandt, who welcomed his questions about training. Though she was a mage, her noble upbringing demanded proficiency in many fields. She explained to Lucien the theory behind aura flow, the rhythm of sword forms, and the importance of battle composure. Her soft voice was always tinged with wisdom, and Lucien found comfort in her presence.

Now, at last, the wait was over.

After a week of intense preparation, Grand Duke Aldric emerged from his study with parchment in hand, expression grave and resolute. His schedule was complete.

Though no one questioned why it had taken him an entire week, the answer was simple.

Aldric Velebrandt took his son’s future with terrifying seriousness.

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It was early morning when Grand Duke Aldric stood within his study, the heavy velvet curtains drawn open to bathe the space in the pale golden light of dawn. With the warmth of sunlight brushing against the antique mahogany furniture and the scent of ink and parchment still lingering in the air, Aldric reviewed the final copy of Lucien’s training plan. His eyes scanned every detail, making sure there were no overlooked faults.

2 hours of fundamental aura instruction. 3 hours of applied aura technique. 6 hours of rigorous physical conditioning. And finally, 4 hours of daily sparring. The training schedule was intense—designed to push Lucien’s body, mind, and will to their limits. The six-day structure left one day open, but not for rest. That day would be reserved for supervised mock battles—simulated life-and-death engagements, monitored by Knight Rex and a detachment of elite knights.

Aldric set the parchment down and turned to Knight Rex, who stood silently at the side of the study, like a blade sheathed in decorum.

"Make sure he follows every part of it," Aldric said, his voice firm but carrying the weight of paternal care.

"Of course, my lord," Rex replied with a deep bow. "He will be shaped into the sword you envision."

Aldric exhaled through his nose and nodded once. "Good. He has potential... but potential alone is meaningless without refinement."

Not long after, Aldric gathered his children and wife in the front courtyard of the Velebrandt mansion. The paved stones gleamed under the morning sun, while the banners of House Velebrandt fluttered high above the iron gates. A dozen knights in black and silver armor were mounting their warhorses, commanders gathering around a central wagon where supplies were being finalized for departure.

Today, Aldric would depart for the western frontlines.

Rumors of ogres surging from the abyss-tainted canyons had grown troubling. Towns and outposts reported attacks—some villages were razed, others now stood as ghostly ruins. Aldric, as the Archduke and Warden of the West, had no choice but to lead the offensive.

Archduchess Seraphina stood with calm poise, though her violet-gray eyes betrayed her sorrow. Her golden-blonde hair was tied in an elegant braid, cascading down her back like a river of light. "Don’t act rashly, Aldric. Prioritize your safety too," she said softly.

Aldric gave her a faint smile, his rare warmth surfacing. "You married a man of war, Seraphina. But I promise, I will return."

Behind her, Lucien approached with baby Amanda wrapped securely in his arms. Emilien trotted beside him, his wooden practice sword strapped to his belt. The two boys stood before their father, Amanda giving soft baby murmurs in Lucien’s gentle embrace.

"Father!" Emilien beamed, trying to appear braver than he was. "When you come back, I’ll show you how strong I’ve gotten. I’ll even beat one of the senior knights!"

Aldric knelt briefly, brushing Emilien’s dark silver hair with his hand. "I’ll be expecting nothing less. And take care of your brother and sister while I’m away."

Emilien gave a playful but proud salute, puffing his small chest.

Then, Aldric’s stern gaze turned toward Lucien. Despite his fatigued state, Lucien stood straight and held his father’s gaze, adjusting Amanda in his arms.

"Lucien," Aldric said, "You’re the future pillar of this house. Do not disappoint me."

Lucien bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment. "I understand. I’ll give it everything I have."

Aldric gave a single approving nod, then added, "Knight Rex has your schedule. You’ll begin tomorrow. For today, rest. You’ll need it."

Lucien could only nod in agreement. His body still felt the lingering heaviness from whatever had befallen him the week prior. But he wouldn’t let that hold him back.

One of the commanders approached Aldric and saluted. "My lord, the convoy is ready."

Aldric turned to face him. "What’s the estimated deployment date for the next wave of fully-trained Awakened?"

The commander leaned close and whispered respectfully, "Two months, my lord. Estimated strength—just over 21,000."

Aldric’s brow furrowed, but only briefly. "Slightly less than last time... Still, it will suffice for our current strategy."

"Yes, my lord."

"Begin movement."

The knights began mounting in formation. Seraphina stepped back, watching the man she had stood beside for decades prepare to ride into danger once again. Lucien, Emilien, and Amanda watched silently.

Aldric mounted his horse with practiced ease, then gave his family one last look—a nod of reassurance.

With that, the convoy began its slow roll through the gates of Velebrandt Mansion, their silver armor and banners catching the morning light. The weight of war, duty, and blood hung over the cobblestone path like the shadow of a coming storm.

Lucien stood there long after his father disappeared from view, the words "Do not disappoint me" echoing in his thoughts.