Chapter 1

Ring, ring, ring.

Allen opened his eyes to the sound of his alarm clock, letting out a long sigh. The clock hands pointed to five twenty in the morning. Reluctantly, he got up and walked to his wardrobe. He quickly put on the Imperial Academy uniform: a white shirt and a black three-button overcoat with golden embroidery on the shoulders, collar, and cuffs. On his chest, two brooches: a shield with a cross and four branches of golden laurels on a red field, the symbol of the God Emperor, and next to it, the Greywolf crest, a gray wolf on a blue and white field. The unusual elasticity of the fabric was notable; periodically, runes stood out in the embroidery, ensuring that the uniform would adjust even after transforming.

In the mirror, he noticed a sparse beard emerging. Although uncommon for his 13 years, facial hair was not unusual for a Greywolf, regardless of age—although some elders suffered from baldness. Allen pondered this while trimming his beard with precision, sighing. A young noble must maintain an impeccable appearance, especially in his first year at the Academy. His gray eyes and well-groomed black hair, unwrinkled clothes, polished boots—everything perfect.

Upon opening the door, he found Ivir—his cousin-uncle and guardian—in a formal posture. Ivir's figure commanded respect; with his dominant stature and robust bearing, Ivir was the living embodiment of military discipline. His buzzcut, a traditional style of the empire's legions, and the gray resting uniform detailed in red and gold with the Imperial Eagle and the Arcadian Wolf, his medal for years of service as the captain of the Pack, reinforced his austere presence. Despite the difference in size, the similarities between him and Allen were noticeable, especially in their predatory alert gaze, a trait present in all clan members.

"Good morning, Allen. I see you're up early, as usual," greeted Ivir, his voice as rigid as his posture.

"Good morning, Ivir. Any news of my father?" Allen asked with hopeful eyes. His father had been on the front lines for months, and the boy longed to reunite with him.

Ivir placed his heavy hand on Allen's shoulder and, with a sheepish smile, attempted to console the young man. "I regret to inform you, but the old man couldn't leave his post. The front lines against the Shadows are exceptionally active, and the Empire needs its most capable commanders."

Ivir's normally unshakable and austere demeanor revealed a sorrowful expression as he delivered the news to Allen, a relationship that surpassed the bonds of guardian and ward. He paused, casting a thoughtful glance at Allen, his nephew-cousin, a designation that barely began to describe the depth of their connection. Ivir always saw Allen not only as the heir to his clan, whom he was entrusted to protect but as a younger brother, someone whose growth and well-being he had the personal responsibility to ensure. For a moment, the relentless warrior gave way to the zealous protector, a rare and human glimpse of the connection between the two.

Despite being saddened by the news, Allen had expected it. The invasions of the Shadows on the northern border, Greywolf territory, were more intense than ever. The Empire's security was a priority.

Together, Allen and Ivir headed to the dining room, where a hearty breakfast awaited them. Allen savored the last piece of Gullinbursti bacon, a rare delicacy, but furrowed his brows upon noticing Ivir.

"Ivir, you're no longer in the army; have a bit more composure."

Ivir, with a robust steak halfway into his open mouth, exposing his prominent canines, sighed.

"Force of habit, in the midst of a campaign, we didn't have time even to revert to human form," he said, preparing to use the utensils.

After a satisfying meal amidst trivial conversation, both prepared for their departure.

"Let's go, Ivir. The sooner we arrive, the better."

"The driver is waiting."

Standing at the mansion's entrance, an "automobile," as the Empire's engineers named it, awaited its two passengers. Its shiny black body, adorned with exquisite golden details, reflected the sunlight with imposing elegance. The elongated hood housed an intricately designed engine, a tangle of tubes and gears, with hissing steam and pistons working in a mechanical choreography. Prominently positioned on the solid gold front grille was the Imperial Eagle, its wings spreading as if about to take flight.

This vehicle, a marvel of recent innovation, was reserved only for the Empire's most important officers, a symbol of status and power. Upon opening its heavy doors, one could glimpse the luxurious interior, with finely crafted leather seats and details in carved wood and polished metal. The steering wheel, a work of art in itself, featured intricate insignias and controls that resembled those of a steamship.

With a sound resembling a predator asserting its dominance, the automobile set off towards the Imperial Academy, leaving behind the Greywolf estate.

"I know the answer is yes, but are you ready for your speech anyway?"

"As much as possible, but nervousness is inevitable," Allen replied with a half-smile, admiring the landscape quickly passing by the window.

Greywolf's property, unlike most nobles, was amidst the lush forests of the North region, the birthplace of the clan's first ancestors, where the gods granted the first patriarch, Lycan, the blessing of lycanthropy. Yes, Greywolf family members are werewolves, one of the characteristics that ensured their success in the military career, thanks to their strength and ferocity in battle, along with the strategic mindset for which wolves are known when hunting with their pack.

"The expectations on you are high, Allen, but not high enough, if you ask me. They'll have a great surprise when they see what you're capable of. Stay calm," Ivir remarked.

The tension in the boy's shoulders visibly lessened. Ivir was right; from the beginning of his training, Allen had been defying common sense for a young lupine. His strength, sagacity, and intelligence were noticeably superior to all his cousins participating in the activities. The elders unanimously agreed that he surpassed by a wide margin the achievements of his father at his age—the most powerful and decorated member of the clan until current times.

To the somber hum of the engine, they continued their journey, each lost in their own thoughts.

**********

On a branch of one of the countless trees in the Greywolf estate, a bird attentively observed the departure of the young prodigy, "Chirp!" With a surprised exclamation upon noticing the vehicle leaving the territory, it took flight and, as if never there, disappeared in the blink of an eye.

At an immeasurable distance, the same bird emerged in a vortex and gently nestled in the arms of a woman with alabaster skin, adorned in black chainmail armor found only in possession of the most important members of the Shadow Court. Her lustrous brown hair flowed over a round shield on her back and reached her waist, where a sword with a rounded pommel and short guard was sheathed.

Fondly caressing the bird's head, the woman asked, "Has the young wolf left his den, little Noctal?"

"Chirp chirp, chirp chirp chirp, chirp! chirp chirp!" Repeatedly chirping and gesturing with its small wing, the bird recounted the events it observed today.

Nodding in agreement with the story told by little Noctal, the woman smiled—a smile that would leave even the sturdiest with weak knees before such beauty. "Perfect, everything is going as planned." With that said, giving a gentle impulse, she sent the bird, which, in the blink of an eye, was soaring over the automobile, observing the young gray-eyed wolf.

**********

As they neared the Academy, Allen saw, for the first time, the grandeur of the Empire's most prestigious institute. Its massive main gate of solid gold gleamed in the sunlight, and at the apex of its arch, the Imperial Eagle stood imposingly with wings spread wide, as if protecting and welcoming the hundreds of young individuals waiting beneath its stern gaze to enter the Academy grounds. A wall adorned with various red and gold flags bearing the Imperial crest rose so high and imposing that even Ivir, large as he was, would be like an ant at its base. In the distance, one could see various structures, including dormitories, classrooms, and gymnasiums, but it was impossible to avoid diverting one's eyes to the main building of the Academy—a construction so massive that it made the wall look like a child's toy. Its entrance, with numerous rounded marble pillars resembling the open mouth of a gigantic monster, culminated in an impressive dome that seemed to touch the sky at its highest point, where the Imperial Eagle, many times larger than the one at the gate, extended its wings as if the sky were its domain.

The vehicle headed towards the exclusive entrance, where they wouldn't have to face the enormous crowd forming at the main entrance. Upon disembarking, Allen and Ivir were immediately attended to by one of the institute's various assistants. Bowing slightly with one hand pressed to his body and the other in a closed fist over his chest, the assistant introduced himself to the two extremely important newcomers. "Mr. Allen, Captain Ivir, it's a pleasure to welcome you. My name is Peter, and I'll be responsible for guiding young Lord Greywolf to his accommodation. Captain Ivir, will you accompany us?"

Nodding slightly, greeting the young attendant, Ivir clarified, in a stern tone, that anyone who saw him talking to Allen moments ago wouldn't recognize him. "I have matters to discuss with the Director, don't worry, I know the way." With that said, he departed with quick steps, soon disappearing from the assistant's view, who stood in place with a stupefied expression.

Quickly regaining composure, Peter addressed Allen, visible desperation in his eyes, afraid that the young man would follow Ivir's example and head to the Academy on his own. However, he calmed down when he noticed that Allen seemed as surprised as he was, looking in the direction where Ivir had gone with a puzzled expression.

"Ahem, young master, please follow me." He said, walking through the corridor of the building adjacent to the main one, not as grandiose but with its own charm. The architecture of all the facilities followed the Imperial standard, with structures in white marble, harmonious and presenting themselves as works of art in their own right. Columns rose along the various corridors, adorned with banners bearing both the Imperial crest and the crests of the houses of the Empire's great heroes. Allen followed Peter while admiring the beauty of the interior, considering that, despite being the heir to the Empire's most recognized clan, he didn't usually leave his territory, and the Greywolf lifestyle didn't involve such attention to decoration and grandiosity, focusing more on practicality and demonstrating their ferocity.

"This building is used as accommodation for distinguished guests of the Academy," said Peter, with enthusiastic steps as he guided Allen. He stopped in front of a door noticeably more elaborate than the others, with inscriptions in gold and the Greywolf crest prominently framed. Gesturing with a cordial smile, he invited Allen to enter. "This is the lodging for Greywolf visitors."

Upon entering, Allen found himself in an extremely luxurious room, comparable to those in the Greywolf mansion. Gold decorations adorned various shelves, showcasing medals and trophies earned by Allen's ancestors who had attended the Academy. Paintings depicting significant moments of his forebears, both academic and military, were proudly displayed on the walls. One stood out prominently, portraying a young man with black hair and a face strikingly similar to Allen's, kneeling before the Emperor to receive an award. The fireplace crackled, emitting a comforting scent into the air. Allen approached the armchair in the center of the room, sitting down and admiring the portrait of his father on the day of his graduation.

Moving swiftly, Peter continued the introduction. "For now, we'll await the arrival of the new students here. As you're aware, the young master will be one of the speakers at the entrance ceremony, right after His Highness Prince Julian. If the young Lord needs any assistance while waiting," - he pointed to a bell on the wall - "one of our assistants will be ready; just ring the bell. I'll be back to guide you in a few minutes, feel free until then."

Alone with his thoughts, anxiety once again consumed Allen as he closely visualized the grandeur of his father's achievements, wondering if he could bring such honor to his clan. Before delving deeper into these thoughts, he was surprised by several taps on the window, where a small owl with an expression of indignation awaited entrance.

"Noctal!" he exclaimed, the anxiety now dissipated, and a genuine smile brightening his face.