The man struggled, gasping for breath as Lucien's icy grip tightened around his throat. His hands twitched, ready to cast the dark spell, but the freezing cold had already numbed his throat, spreading down into his voice box. Even in his near-death state, he managed to let out a sinister chuckle, his eyes burning with malice.

"I suppose the High Priest underestimated you after all. Those eyes... just like your brother's. And that swordsmanship, it is so similar, not to mention, you don't even look traumatized at all." He let out a ragged laugh. "Hah... ahaha!"

Lucien remained silent, his eyes flat and expressionless, like a frozen seas. His grip tightened, and the frost crawled steadily up the cultist's head, enveloping him in ice.

The cultist's lips twisted into a bitter smile as his hands glowed with dark energy. "If I die..." His voice cracked, but his eyes burned with triumph. "I'm taking you with me."

Lucien didn't flinch. The dark magic flared, But just before the spell completed, a shimmering barrier of light enveloped him. The cultist's eyes widened in shock as his own spell backfired, burning through his body instead.

The last thing he heard was Lucien's voice, low and indifferent. "Soul Bind? A foolish attempt."

The cultist screamed as his body began to disintegrate, the dark spell consuming him from within. His final deranged laugh echoed through the cold covered air before he crumbled into ash.

"She's useful," Lucien mumbled, he lowered his arm and surveyed the scene. Blood stained the earth in dark, jagged pools, creeping across the roots of trees like black veins. The lifeless bodies of the cultists lay scattered, their chests split open by his blade. He slowly put the blade back to its scabbard as he glanced down at them without emotion, as though they were nothing more than broken dolls abandoned by a child.

The captives, eyes wide with terror, stared at him as if uncertain whether to thank him or fear him. Their ropes suddenly got severed, releasing them from its hold. The tallest of them, a man with dirt-streaked cheeks, opened his mouth as if to speak but the words stuck on his throat when Lucien's cold gleam eyes landed on them.

"Leave this place. Now," He ordered. His voice was sharp and without room for question.

They didn't need to be told twice. With quick, stumbling steps, they fled into the forest, the sound of their footsteps fading into the trees.

Watching the freed captives disappear into the distance, Lucien sensed a familiar presence approaching from behind.

"Duke, I am here to report the situation," came the voice of Sir Leo.

Lucien turned to see the knight approaching. "What's the situation?"

"Everything went according to plan. Thanks to your strategy, we located all the captives and rescued them without trouble. We tried to interrogate the cultists harshly, but the moment they started talking, they disintegrated out of nowhere."

Lucien gave a short nod, his expression unreadable. "As I suspected. I sensed a dark spell cast on them-any confession triggers their death."

"I see... Still, without knowing their plans exactly, we're still left in the dark."

"We know enough," Lucien replied calmly. "Their goal is to obtain the cursed sword. Whoever is behind this is clever. They demand sacrifices-hence the abductions and killings."

Sir Leo hesitated before continuing. "Yes, Your Grace. From what we got so far, the people they were offering... they all had the Blood of Eldren and most of them were mages."

Lucien's gaze sharpened. "Eldren Blood?" he murmured.

"Yes, your grace. I assume you were already aware of these traits?"

"Yes. The Eldren Blood doesn't follow family lines," Lucien explained. "It manifests unpredictably, a rare blessing born from ancient magic four hundred years ago, it can appear in any generation, without warning."

"I thought as much," Sir Leo replied. "It seems they are targeting anyone with that trait, having found some use for it."

"They believe that ancient bloodlines hold the key to finding the sword," Lucien said, his tone measured, though a flicker of something darker passed through his eyes. "Certain traits... unique ones, are the key."

His gaze shifted slightly, but he didn't elaborate further. "Clara's abilities... they'll draw attention. Sooner or later, they'll come for her."

Sir Leo hesitated before adding, "You seem confident in her safety with the Duchess. Are you certain it's the best choice, Your Grace?"

Lucien's gaze remained steady. "I've made sure of it. Clara is safe in her hands, Adeline is a notable mage," he replied calmly.

After a brief pause, his thoughts drifted to her background, which suggested competence—At least on paper, that is.

"I've been keeping an eye on her for a while." he added.

Sir Leo blinked, momentarily thrown off. "Ah, keeping an eye on her...?" He cleared his throat, his expression shifting awkwardly. "Does that mean?"

Lucien's icy composure flickered for just a split second. "No," he replied, his tone still cold but with the faintest edge of irritation, and a redness creeping in. "Not like that."

Sir Leo nodded quickly, looking embarrassed. "My apologies, Your Grace."

Lucien didn't respond further, though a subtle stiffness remained in his posture.

"With respect, what makes you so certain, Your Grace? The last time you trusted someone was House Branwen, and it cost Clara dearly."

Lucien's expression darkened. "Are you questioning my judgment?"

Sir Leo quickly raised his hands, stepping back. "No, Your Grace. Of course not. It's just... the last time you trusted the House Branwen with your niece, you discovered four years ago that she was being abused."

Lucien's gaze hardened, his voice cold enough to freeze the air between them. "I trusted them because my brother trusted them." He paused, his eyes briefly distant, recalling a memory he'd rather forget. "Before my brother left for Wintermere, he left his wife, Leone Branwen, in the capital, believing it was the safest place for her. She was pregnant with Clara at the time."

Sir Leo shifted uneasily, but Lucien continued, his tone bitter. "He went to Wintermere wanting to resolve a crisis. He believed it was his duty as heir to the Wintermere duchy, to secure our lands for the future. He thought that by joining the battlefield against the dark incursion, he could protect us all. Which he did, Until..." He stopped, his hand ball into a fist, as if reluctant to speak what came next.

Lucien's eyes darkened. "While my brother was gone, everything fell apart. I heard when his wife gave birth to Clara, she died from a sudden illness. After I ascended as Duke, I allowed the Branwen's to raise Clara for eight years, because my brother trusted them. I stayed away in the capital, unaware of what was happening. They betrayed her-or at the very least, they failed to protect her when it mattered most."

Sir Leo, clearly uncomfortable, lowered his gaze. "Forgive me, Your Grace. I meant no disrespect."

Lucien let the silence linger for a moment before speaking again, more quietly but no less firm. "I will not make the same mistake twice. I trust my intuition this time, and I believe Adeline can protect Clara... if there ever comes a time when I must leave her side again."

Sir Leo hesitated, as if weighing whether to continue, He took a brief glance at Lucien's stern expression, bowing his head, he spoke with renewed deference.

"Of course, Your Grace. I trust your judgment," he said carefully. "I'll ensure everything is in order with the rest of the men. If anything else requires your attention, I will notify you immediately."

Lucien didn't respond, his gaze fixed somewhere in the distance, lost in thought. Sir Leo took that as his cue to leave. He bowed once more, then turned and departed, his footsteps fading into the cold silence.

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Drifted into his past, to a time he'd long since tried to bury. The familiar ache in his left arm and right leg throbbed as if to remind him. The cold silence of Wintermere melted into the feverish, blood-streaked night of his youth.

Warriors and civilians alike lay silent, their bodies strewn across the battlefield like fallen leaves, faces frozen in twisted expressions of terror. Some clutched weapons in lifeless hands, others lay with arms reaching toward unseen salvation. Blood pooled beneath them, darkening the earth, while a faint, metallic scent hung heavy in the air.

The shadows that lingered seemed to watch, sated and unmoving, as if guarding their grim handiwork.

Lucien clutched his left arm, breath ragged as shadows closed in around him, monstrous figures shaped from darkness, their gaze were full of malice. He was outnumbered, vision blurring from the pain, with only his faltering ice wall as a defense.

Then suddenly amidst the horrifying sight, there was burst of fire, scorching through the beasts and dark mages with an intensity Lucien had never seen.

"B... Brother?" He muttered, as he winced in pain.

The flames flared vivid against the night, carving a path through the writhing masses. Eric's blonde hair caught the orange light, while his dark blue eyes blazed with fury and focus. With fierce determination, he fought his way to Lucien, his presence like an unyielding wall of flame. Even as the world seemed to crumble around them, Eric's only focus was reaching his younger brother, the heat of his power scorching the darkness away.

"Stay with me, Lucien," Eric had said, his voice is low, comforting murmur amid the violence. "I'll get you out of this."

Eric carefully lifted Lucien onto his back, holding him securely as he sprinted through the darkness, swift as the wind that whipped against Lucien's face.

"We'll reach the others soon. Mother and Father are waiting for us," Eric said, his voice steady and reassuring.

Lucien managed to respond a faint nod, in his last grasp of his stamina he manage to mumble "I am sorry...for being a burden...brother." feeling the rhythm of Eric's stride as his own eyes began to close, exhaustion overtaking him. Everything he sees now is darkness, and his ears can still hear his brothers reply.

"You're no burden, Lucien." Eric tightened his grip, his voice filled with quiet conviction.

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Gazing at the horizon, lost in memories of the past, Lucien's thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a child's voice calling out from within the dark forest.

"Help! Is anybody there?" The cry was faint but desperate, carried by the wind as it rustled through the trees.

Lucien turned, scanning the shadows, when suddenly, he felt a sudden weight on his boot. Looking down, he saw a small, stone figure clinging to him, a golem, small enough to fit in his palm.

It waved a tiny hand, "Kooh... Kooh!" the golem croaked, its tiny voice rough like grinding stones. Lucien had no idea what it meant, but the creature seemed insistent.

The golem gestured for Lucien to follow, scurrying ahead a few steps before stopping to make sure he was coming. "Kooh..." it murmured, its gravelly voice carrying an urgency.

Lucien followed, his footsteps muffled by the leaves underfoot. Soon, they reached a small clearing, where his gaze fell upon a girl hanging from a branch. Her left foot was tied tightly in a looped rope, leaving her upside down, her crimson hair was meters away to reach the forest floor.

She blinked, disoriented, her hazel green eyes slowly focusing on him. "D... Duke?" she murmured, her voice a mix of surprise and relief.

Without a word, Lucien summoned a dagger of ice, the weapon forming silently in his hand and shimmering faintly in the dim light. He gripped its hilt, took aim, and hurled it at the tied rope in a single, swift motion. The ice blade sliced cleanly through, and as she fell, he stepped forward, catching her easily in his arms.

Gently, Lucien set her back on her feet. She brushed the stray leaves away from her red cloak, her hands moving from her shoulders down to the hem of her skirt.

"Thank you, Your Grace," she said with a small smile. "It's good to see you again. I... I didn't expect to see you here."

Lucien studied her, a frown creasing his brow. "I don't seem to remember you."

"Oh?" She tilted her head, a glint of confusion in her eyes. "We've met before. I was the one who asked your permission to let my golem reside freely in Wintermere, you really had my gratitude there." At her words, the small golem climbed up her arm and perched on her shoulder, waving at Lucien with a tiny stone hand.

She pulled up her hood, the red cloak settling over her like a shadow. "This is Moalang, my first golem creation and I am Ruby."

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

She glanced around, her gaze wary. "I love wandering in this forest. I came looking for a blue rose that only blooms here. I just figured that it resides here but unfortunately, I got caught in a trap. The ones who set it wore black cloaks. One of them nearly killed me, he had a dagger to my throat, until he heard the noise of a blade unsheathing. I assume that was you?"

Lucien was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he said, "You should leave this place if you don't want to get trapped again."

Ruby shook her head. "No, Your Grace. I have to find the blue rose before dawn, because it only blooms at night."

He sighed, his tone firm. "This forest is now swarming with cultists and ancient monsters. It's too dangerous to stay. There are plenty of other places to wander, leave this one for now."

Ruby's gaze softened, but her jaw set with determination. "I appreciate your concern, but I'm not leaving without that rose."

"What for?" His gaze narrowed, a glint in his eye suggesting he knew more than he let on. "The blue rose isn't something you pick for decoration, I suggest that you leave it," he said, waving his hand as he turned.

She crossed her arms, lifting her chin defiantly. "I'm well aware of its secrets, Your Grace."

Lucien paused, halting his steps as he slowly turned his head toward her.

"I've spent months studying its lore. The blue rose holds knowledge... maybe something that could help with other things," she murmured, her voice almost hesitant.

She's studying it already? at such young age. She seems knowledgeable but still... He thought.

His brow furrowed. "And what if that knowledge brings more danger than you're prepared to face?" his voice lowering. "Some truths aren't worth uncovering."

She looked away, frustrated. "I'll be careful. But I didn't come all this way to be stopped now. I don't know when I'll have another chance."

There was a flicker of something distant in her gaze. "The old woods isn't as it used to be, Your Grace. If there's a way to understand it... to learn something that might help..."

Lucien's eyes flickered a little, studying her determination in silence.

Hope you enjoy this chapter! Here's a little guessing game for you: how old do you think Clara is now?