Chapter 11: A Noble’s Resolve

Arlon chuckled, then returned his focus to the task at hand. The storm was far from over, and he knew this was just the beginning of a much larger conflict ahead.

Arlon tapped the edge of this sit and gaze the paper on the desk thoughtfully, his thoughts lingering on the cryptic symbols he had been attempting to decipher. With a sigh, he straightened and glanced at Ace, who was perched on the table, tail swaying lazily.

"Let's resume translating tomorrow, I might need your help with it."

Ace tilted his head, his crimson eyes narrowing as if weighing the request. "My help? Are you sure? I'm not exactly fluent in ancient gibberish," he replied, his tone laced with playful sarcasm.

Arlon chuckled softly. "You recognized parts of it earlier. That's more than most could manage. Besides, I think your memory might surprise you."

Ace purred, a sound that was equal parts smug and amused. "Flattery will get you everywhere,noble Arlon. Fine, I'll help—but only if you promise to reward me with extra snacks afterward."

"Deal," Arlon replied with a faint smile. He gathered the papers and carefully tucked them away in a drawer. "For now, though, let's call it a night."

Ace hopped off the table and stretched, his claws briefly scratching against the floor. "Fair enough. You look like you could use some rest anyway. Don't forget—brains work better after sleep."

Shaking his head in mild amusement,Arlon stood up, stretching as he prepared for bed. With a practiced motion, he reached up and removed the mask that had become a part of his daily life. Placing it on the desk nearby, he let out a soft sigh.

As he lay down on the bed, the rustle of sheets broke the quiet. Ace, who had been observing him with his ever-curious red eyes, padded over and leapt up onto the bed. The sleek black cat settled comfortably beside him, tail curling lazily.

"Why do you even wear that mask?" Ace's voice was casual, but his piercing gaze betrayed genuine curiosity.

Arlon turned his head slightly, meeting the cat's eyes. He considered dodging the question, but the bond they shared made it feel pointless. With a deep breath, he answered honestly.

"I'm pretending," he said quietly. "Pretending that I've awakened a cursed gift. That I have the ability to curse someone just by looking at them."

Ace blinked, his tail flicking once. "You're pretending?"

"Yes." Arlon's tone was calm, almost resigned. "People fear what they don't understand. If they think I can't control my supposed 'ability,' they're less likely to challenge me. The mask makes it believable. It's a tool, nothing more."

Ace tilted his head, his ears twitching. "So, you're telling me you've been acting this whole time? Not bad, I must admit." He gave a low purr, then asked, "But don't you get tired of it?"

Arlon chuckled faintly, his gaze drifting to the ceiling. "Of course I do. But it's necessary."

Ace's tail tapped the bed as he processed this, and then, as if unable to resist, he asked another question. "What if someone finds out? What then?"

"I'll deal with it when the time comes," Arlon replied simply, his tone steady.

Satisfied for a moment, Ace lay his head on his paws. But only a moment passed before his voice broke the silence again. "And how do you feel about—"

Arlon groaned softly, turning to face him. "Ace, do you ever stop asking questions?"

The cat's whiskers twitched in amusement. "I'm just trying to understand. You're more interesting than most humans, after all."

Ace continued, firing off question after question—about the mask, Dimitri, the Throndsen family, and the strange choices Arlon had made since they met.

"You ask too many questions for a cat," Arlon said, shaking his head, though a faint smile tugged at his lips.

"I could stop," Ace replied, his crimson eyes narrowing. "But why would I? You're far more complicated than most humans I've met. It's almost fun."

Arlon's smile faltered slightly as he leaned back into the pillows. "If you think I'm complicated now, you'd be even more curious about the real Throndsen heir. That mask? It's nothing compared to what's underneath."

Ace flicked his tail, studying him. "I'll find out eventually," he murmured, his voice quiet but assured.

Arlon sighed and turned to face the ceiling. The moonlight filtered through the window, washing the room in silver. "This is going to be a long night," he muttered, already resigned to the endless stream of questions.

———

The sun had only just begun to rise, casting a gentle glow over the estate as it stirred to life. Dimitri moved with quiet efficiency, orchestrating the morning's preparations. He oversaw the maids arranging breakfast in the grand hall, giving quick nods of approval as they arranged platters and poured fresh tea.

Servants bustled about, tidying up after the previous evening's events, while outside, villagers gathered with hopeful determination, ready to return to their lands and begin rebuilding.

In the midst of this activity, a guard approached, pausing respectfully before Dimitri. With a slight bow, the guard extended a sealed envelope. "Sir, a letter from the Grand Duchy for the Lord," he reported, his voice steady.

Dimitri accepted the letter, inclining his head in thanks. He studied the insignia pressed into the wax seal, a familiar mark of authority. Dimitri's expression remained unreadable, though his grip on the letter tightened ever so slightly, as if he could already sense the weight of its contents.

Meanwhile, Arlon and Ace were enjoying a late breakfast in a quiet room. Arlon was in the middle of explaining the details of the Celestial Clan history and the Pry members to Ace. The conversation was intense, and Ace seemed particularly curious, firing off questions that kept Arlon awake until late the previous night.

As they were talking, the door creaked open, and Alice entered with the gray wolf boy by her side.

Arlon looked up and gestured for them to join. "Come, sit with us," he invited, motioning to the empty seats. "We could use some more company to wake us up."

Alice shook her head with a polite smile. "We've already had breakfast, but thank you," she replied, a hint of amusement flickering in her eyes as she took in their groggy expressions. "I take it you both had a late night?"

Ace let out a small laugh, rubbing his tired eyes. "You could say that. Turns out Arlon knows a ridiculous amount about ancient clans and curses. I just wanted a few answers, but he practically gave me a whole history lesson."

Arlon shot him a mock glare. "If you hadn't kept asking questions, we might have actually gotten some sleep."

Alice chuckled, then turned to Arlon, her tone softening. "Well, I won't keep you. I actually just wanted to thank you for the mana stones you gave us last night," she said. "They were invaluable in treating the villagers. Anthony and I were able to do a lot of good with them."

Arlon nodded, pleased. "I'm glad they were helpful. How is everyone recovering?"

"Most are doing well," Alice replied, though a note of concern entered her voice. "Though Eric… because he's a gray wolf, the mana stones don't work on him quite the same way. Thankfully, his injuries aren't too severe, so he should recover with some rest."

Arlon's face softened with understanding. "I'm sorry we couldn't do more for him specifically," he said. "If there's anything else you need, let me know."

Alice offered a small smile. "Thank you. Honestly, just your support has been a great help. We'll manage the rest, but you two should make sure to get some proper rest as well."

Ace let out a groan. "If only I could keep my curiosity under control."

Arlon laughed. "Lesson learned, then. We'll make sure to cut off the questions next time… hopefully."

The wolf boy walked forward shyly, his gray hair and wolf-like ears and tail standing out, with red eyes peering up at Arlon.

The wolf boy walked forward shyly, his gray hair and wolf-like ears and tail standing out, with golden eyes peering up at Arlon.

He was dressed neatly, though his arms and legs were wrapped in bandages. He hesitated for a moment, then spoke up in a soft voice.

"Um… Hello, Master Arlon," he said, bowing his head respectfully. Eric's small hands trembled as he clutched the hem of his bandaged arm.

"My name is Eric. Thank you for saving me from that evil mage. I was so scared… "I… I thought he'd take me too. Like the others. I was so scared." His voice wavered, the words barely audible.

Alice stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on Eric's shoulder. "Eric's been wanting to meet you since he woke up," she explained. "I suggested he rest, but he was determined to thank you personally."

Arlon smiled gently at the young wolf. "There's no need to thank me, Eric," he said kindly. "I'm just glad you're safe. You should be thanking Alice and Anthony as well—they're the ones who came to me for help. We couldn't have done this without them."

I'm not used to this kind of gratitude. The original Arlon wouldn't have cared about any of this. But if I can make even a small difference, maybe this life doesn't have to follow the same path.

Eric looked over at Alice, his yellow eyes full of gratitude. "Thank you, Miss Alice. And Master Arlon… I owe you my life. I was sure… I'd end up like the others." His voice wavered, and his ears drooped slightly, recalling the trauma he'd faced.

Alice gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You're safe now, Eric. We'll make sure of it."

Ace, who had been silently observing from his spot on the table, flicked his tail, catching Eric's eye. "Don't forget, kid, there's more than just people around here looking out for you," he said with a smirk.

Eric's eyes widened as he took in the talking cat, his initial fear melting into fascination. "You're… you're the Soul Guardian, right?" he asked, his voice filled with awe.

Ace puffed up proudly. "The one and only. But don't get too attached. I'm not here to babysit."

Arlon chuckled at Ace's usual gruffness. "He may act tough, but he's not as scary as he seems," he assured Eric, leaning forward to ruffle the boy's hair. "We're all on the same side here."

Eric gave a small, shy smile, looking between Arlon, Alice, and Ace. For the first time, he seemed to relax, sensing he was truly safe among friends.

After a few moments, Alice spoke up. "We should probably let you get some rest, Master Arlon. Eric, I'll take you to meet Anthony. He's been asking how you're doing, too."

Eric nodded, but as they turned to leave, he hesitated and looked back at Arlon. "I want to… I want to grow strong, like you, Master Arlon. So I can protect people too."

Arlon felt a warmth in his chest at the boy's earnest words. "You've got a brave heart, Eric. And if you keep that spirit, I have no doubt you'll grow strong someday."

With a final nod, Eric followed Alice out, leaving Arlon and Ace alone once more. Ace glanced up at Arlon, an uncharacteristic softness in his eyes. "You know, you didn't have to make that kid's day."

Arlon shrugged, feeling a strange sense of purpose he hadn't before. "Maybe not. But if I can give him a little hope, maybe that's enough for now."

After Alice and Eric left, Arlon sank back into his chair, letting out a long sigh. He glanced at Ace, who was now stretched out lazily on the table, his red eyes half-lidded but observant.

"So," Ace began, his tone teasing, "you're really getting the hang of this 'noble protector' role, aren't you?"

Great, even the cat's starting to notice.

Arlon rolled his eyes but couldn't help smirking. "I'm just trying to do what needs to be done. Don't get used to it."

Ace flicked his tail. "Oh, trust me, I won't. But you've got to admit, you're getting pretty good at it." He raised his paw as if to high-five, then quickly retracted it. "Not that I'd ever compliment you seriously."

Arlon chuckled, reaching for his tea—only to remember its less-than-pleasant taste from yesterday. He set it down, eyeing Ace. "Anyway, you owe me for keeping me up all night with those questions."

"Just keeping you sharp, 'my Lord,'" Ace replied with a smirk. He leaped from the table to the windowsill, glancing outside as the morning sun cast its warm glow over the gardens. "Looks like another busy day for our little house of refuge here."

Arlon followed his gaze. The courtyard below was bustling with villagers who had come to help rebuild their community. They were smiling, working together, and offering each other encouragement—a rare sight that lifted his spirits.

Knock— Knock

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Dimitri entered, carrying a stack of documents and a slightly flustered look. "My lord, I've compiled the list of supplies we'll need for the rebuilding efforts," he said, setting the papers on the table.

"Good work, Dimitri," Arlon replied, nodding appreciatively. "Have we heard any news about other attacks or Pry members in the area?"

"Not yet, but I'm keeping an ear to the ground. Our network will alert us if they catch any whispers," Dimitri assured him. Then, casting a suspicious glance at Ace, he added, "Are you sure that… creature won't cause trouble?"

Ace scoffed. "'Creature'? Please, I'm the reason you're even standing here in one piece."

Arlon laughed, patting Ace on the head to defuse the tension. "Ace is here to help, Dimitri. Strange as it may seem, he's one of the best allies we could ask for."

Dimitri sighed, clearly not convinced but unwilling to argue. "As you say, my lord. Just be cautious."

Just as Dimitri was about to leave, he paused, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a finely sealed envelope. "My lord," he said, holding it out with a solemn expression. "This arrived this morning. It's a summons from the Duchess—she requests your presence back at the estate for an important meeting with the nobles who support the family."

Arlon's hand paused just as he was about to reach for the letter, a surge of recognition jolting through him.

The moment Arlon saw the seal, a chill ran down his spine. His grip tightened around the letter as his mind pulled him back to a memory he hadn't lived—but one he remembered too well.

He could see it now: the crowded council room, the sneers of the nobles as they hurled insults like daggers, their words cutting deeper than any blade. Incompetent. Childish. A fool unworthy of his name. He remembered the original Arlon's fists clenching, his voice shaking as he tried and failed to defend himself. The laughter still echoed in his ears.

Arlon exhaled slowly, grounding himself in the present. His fingers brushed the edges of the letter as he reminded himself: This time, I know better. I'm not that boy. Not anymore.

He took a deep breath, a determined gleam in his eyes as he looked up at Dimitri. "Thank you, Dimitri. I'll read it in detail, but for now, prepare for our departure."

Dimitri nodded, his eyes sharp as he observed the shift in Arlon's expression. "Of course, my lord. I'll have everything ready for you by tomorrow morning."

Once Dimitri had left the room, Arlon opened the letter, scanning the formal words of the summons with a calm resolve. This time, he thought, the nobles wouldn't find the timid, short-tempered young lord they expected.

No, he would show them a different Arlon—one who wouldn't be so easily baited or intimidated.

As he folded the letter, a smirk crossed his face. "They want a meeting? Then let's give them a performance they'll never forget."

Ace stretched lazily on the table, watching him with a hint of amusement. "So… we're going to pay the nobles a visit, are we?"

"Yes," Arlon replied, his voice filled with purpose. "And this time, I'll be ready for them."

The two shared a peaceful silence, the tension of the previous days gradually melting away. The aroma of freshly baked pastries and warm sunlight filled the room, mingling with the quiet sounds of the estate.

Ace sat comfortably on a cushion, his tail curled around his paws. The black cat's eyes gleamed as he took small, delicate bites of a piece of fish from the tray. His red eyes never left Arlon, who was carefully cutting a croissant, taking his time to savor each bite.

Ace, as usual, was curious about every little detail of Arlon's life, but for now, even the cat seemed content with the calm atmosphere.

"You know," Ace began between bites, his voice soft and almost casual, "you have a strange way of eating for someone with... all that power."

Arlon glanced at the cat, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Is that so?" he replied, taking another bite. "I don't think there's anything strange about enjoying a simple breakfast."

Ace flicked his tail in amusement. "I suppose not. But you could at least eat faster—don't want to waste all that time when you're busy with more important matters, right?"

Arlon chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "Not everything has to be rushed, Ace. Sometimes it's the little things—like this breakfast—that make the day worthwhile."

Ace gave a soft, almost inaudible huff, settling down further. "Maybe. But I still think you could speed up a little."

"Maybe later," Arlon said, his tone affectionate as he reached for another pastry, and Ace immediately perked up, his eyes narrowing in a playful challenge. "What? You want some of this too?"

Ace didn't respond with words, but the way he stared at the pastry—his eyes fixed and intense—was answer enough.

Does he even realize how obvious he's being?

Arlon laughed again, shaking his head. "Alright, alright. You're worse than a spoiled child."

Ace flicked his tail in mock annoyance. "I'm not spoiled, I just know what's worth enjoying."

Arlon smiled as he handed the cat a small piece of pastry. "I suppose you do. We both know how to appreciate the good things."

And for a while, the two of them simply sat there—enjoying the quiet, their bond unspoken but felt all the same.

After finishing breakfast, Arlon stood up from the table, his thoughts already turning toward the day's duties. There was something soothing about the rhythm of sword training, and he knew it was time to carry on with his daily routine. He had to keep his skills sharp—both for the sake of his duties and for the unpredictable nature of the world he now found himself in.

He made his way to the training ground, the familiar sounds of the estate falling behind him as he walked. The air was crisp, and the morning sun cast long shadows across the field. The training ground was quiet, save for the faint rustling of leaves and the soft clang of metal that occasionally echoed from the nearby armory.

As he neared the dummies set up for practice, he noticed someone standing near them. It was Lawrence, holding a wooden sword in his hands. His posture was stiff, and he was staring at the dummies as if trying to decide whether to strike them or not. Arlon could see the hesitation in the way Lawrence held the sword, the uncertainty in his stance.

Lawrence stood stiffly by the dummies, gripping the wooden sword in his hands as if it might slip away. His eyes darted toward the edges of the training ground, lingering on the villa's towering walls. Every movement seemed hesitant—an awkward shift of his feet, a quick glance over his shoulder, as though expecting someone to tell him he didn't belong.

Arlon approached quietly, his steps deliberate but light. "You're up early, Lawrence," he said, his voice breaking the stillness. "Planning to train as well?"