Levi sat in his camp, the faint glow of a lantern casting long shadows across the room.

The air was filled with the light, tart aroma of Hibiscus sabdariffa petals steeping in his tea, a drink he favored for its refreshing sharpness and subtle medicinal properties.

Hibiscus sabdariffa flowers are primarily found in eastern Continent, while the Southern Continent has limited agricultural land due to the vast desert that dominates much of its western region.

The cup rested on a small wooden table beside him, its surface polished to a dull sheen.

In his left hand, he held a sheet of paper, its edges slightly crumpled from his grip.

His eyes moved methodically across the names written there, each one carrying weight and significance.

Thorne Blackthorn. Mira Greaves. Dorian Veylmont. Timoleon…

He muttered the names under his breath, his voice low and deliberate. Finally, his gaze settled on one name, and his lips curled into a faint, almost imperceptible smile.

"Lira Sol'mariel".

"Here it is," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Anderson," Levi called, his tone sharp and commanding.

From the adjacent tent, a deep voice responded almost immediately. "Yes, Brother Levi."

A moment later, a tall, broad-shouldered young boy stepped into the room.

Anderson's frame was muscular, though softened slightly by a layer of fat that hinted at a life of relative comfort.

His presence was imposing, yet there was a quiet deference in his demeanor as he stood before Levi, waiting for instructions.

"Bring me a pen and three sheets of paper," Levi said, still not looking up.

Anderson nodded and disappeared into the shadows of the camp. He returned swiftly, holding the requested items.

Levi took them without a word and began writing. His hand moved with precision, each stroke of the pen deliberate and unhurried.

Within minutes, he had finished three letters, each sealed with the insignia of his noble household, a crest that carried both power and prestige.

He handed the letters to Anderson, his expression unreadable. "This is the first time I'm giving you a task in all these years," Levi remarked, his voice calm but laced with a subtle challenge.

Anderson accepted the letters, his brow furrowing slightly as he processed the words. Levi's gaze remained fixed on him, as if waiting for a reaction.

When none came, Levi continued, "You've followed me everywhere, but do you know why I never spoke a word to you all this time?"

Anderson shrugged, his expression thoughtful. "You're cold to everyone, so I never thought much about it."

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "But honestly, I like that you treat everyone the same—like stones, as if they don't even exist."

He hesitated for a moment, then added, "I don't want to call you 'Brother', it feels awkward. I'd rather just say 'Young Master.' The one who never changes, who never wavers, even before a nation-toppling beauty or unimaginable wealth.

"You take only what you need."

Anderson's voice grew quieter, almost introspective. "If you ever change, you'll become just like them, those emotional fools who think they're important, but in truth, they're nothing more than slaves to their desires and greed."

Levi's eyes narrowed, his gaze sharpening like a blade. "You call them slaves, yet you follow me everywhere. What's the difference between them and you?"

The question hung in the air, heavy and unyielding. Anderson fell silent, his mind racing as he searched for an answer. After a long moment, he spoke, his voice steady but tinged with uncertainty. "I don't know about them, but I know myself. I follow you by choice. And if one day comes when I learn nothing from you, I will stop."

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Levi leaned forward slightly, his expression unreadable. "If I gave you a choice, follow me, or become an Echo, what would you pick?"

Anderson didn't hesitate. "I would follow you."

Levi raised an eyebrow, his tone laced with skepticism. "Why? I think you're a fool, rejecting power for loyalty."

Anderson shook his head, his voice firm. "If I became an Echo, I'd only reach Level 7, marked and stagnant until death. But if I follow you, I might remain within the walls of the Veyrathis family… or I might see the world beyond the Southern Continent. The second choice is full of risk, but I'll take it."

Levi stared at him for a long moment, his gaze piercing and unrelenting. Finally, he spoke, his voice measured. "I'm about to set things in motion that will plunge the world into war. Perhaps the entire world will turn against me. Do you still want to follow?"

Anderson's breath caught in his throat. A shiver ran through him—not from fear, but from the sheer thrill of Levi's words.

His heart pounded in his chest, and he felt a surge of adrenaline that made his hands tremble slightly. He straightened his shoulders, his eyes blazing with determination.

"I will follow you to the depths of hell if that's what it takes," he declared, his voice unwavering.

Levi exhaled through his nose, a faint, almost imperceptible sound. "Stupid boy. What are you even imagining? We're not going to topple a nation and bathe the streets in blood."

Anderson blinked, his expression shifting from fierce determination to innocent confusion. "Huh? We're not?" His voice was filled with genuine surprise, as if the idea had never occurred to him.

Levi sighed, a rare flicker of exasperation crossing his face. "This boy…" he muttered under his breath, shaking his head slightly. Then, his tone turned cold and commanding once more. "Go. Deliver these letters to the intended recipients. And find a boy named Lira Sol'mariel, tell him my Young Master calls for him urgently."

Anderson nodded, gripping the letters tightly. He turned and vanished into the shadows of the camp, his footsteps silent against the packed earth.

Levi leaned back in his chair, his fingers brushing against the rim of his teacup. He took another sip, the tartness of the hibiscus tea lingering on his tongue.

The pieces were now moving, and he could feel the weight of the decisions he had set into motion.

The world was a chessboard, and he was the player, carefully positioning each piece for the game ahead.

As he sat there, the lantern's light flickered, casting shifting patterns on the walls of the tent. His mind wandered, tracing the paths of possibility and consequence.

He had always been a man of few words, preferring action over empty promises. Yet, in Anderson, he had found something rare—a loyalty that was not born of obligation, but of choice. It was a dangerous thing, loyalty. It could be a weapon or a weakness, depending on how it was wielded.

Levi's thoughts turned to Lira Sol'mariel, the name that had caught his attention earlier. He didn't know much about the boy past, only that he was connected to the threads Levi was now pulling.

And that was enough. In the grand scheme of things, individuals were often little more than pawns. But sometimes, a pawn could change the course of the game.

The camp was quiet now, the only sound the soft rustling of the wind against the tent's fabric. Levi closed his eyes, allowing himself a moment of stillness. The calm before the storm, he thought. Soon, the world would shift, and he would be at the center of it all.

And Anderson… Levi couldn't help but wonder if the boy truly understood what he had signed up for. Loyalty was a double-edged sword, and the path ahead would test it in ways Anderson could not yet imagine. But for now, Levi would let him believe in the simplicity of his choice. There would be time enough for the truth later.

Sometime later, a lean boy stood before Levi, his face tense. "No, it's impossible."

"If you go there alone, you'll be lost. I refuse. I don't want to be hunted by the Veylmont and Veyrathis families."

Levi's gaze remained cold. "Your family is already being chased by the Veyrathis family. After all, we're just a branch of the Veyrathis bloodline from the Central Continent."

The boy stiffened. Fear flickered in his eyes, and sweat began to bead on his forehead. But he forced himself to stay calm. "I don't know what you're talking about, Young Master Levi."

"I'm just a commoner. Why would the Veyrathis family bother with us?" His voice was steady, but his fingers twitched. "The night is late. I think Young Master should rest." He turned to leave.

Levi's voice cut through the air.

"Okay, Lira Sol'mariel. Or should I say... Kael Aeltheryn?"

The boy froze mid-step.

"I was offering you a chance for revenge, but you refused it. Well... I suppose that's just my bad luck."

Kael's hand instinctively dropped to his waist, fingers brushing the hilt of a hidden knife. His voice was low, wary. "How do you know that name?"

"It's all in the past now," he added quickly, as if trying to convince himself.

Levi's expression didn't change. "Oh? Then why do your eyes betray you, Kael?"

Kael felt the weight of Levi's gaze pressing on him, cold and unwavering.

"I'll give you one last chance." Levi's voice was firm, almost commanding.

Kael's thoughts raced." What should I do? If we expose ourselves now, we'll be hunted just like we were five hundred years ago. The Dream Realm Trial can wait..."

"But this boy—why can't I see through him? He's from the Veyrathis family, yet... only a Sovereign can predict Dream Realm events. And Sovereign... haven't existed for previous three thousand years."

He clenched his fists. "Perhaps I should take a slight risk."

"Fine." He exhaled. "I'll do it. But if the event you predicted in the Dream Realm never happens..." His eyes darkened. "I'll kill you all, including those three over there."

"The tales of the Dream Realm are meant to stay within the Dream Realm," he said before turning on his heel and leaving the camp, showing not the slightest hint of respect.

Levi watched him go, unfazed.

"One day, you'll realize," he murmured, his voice lingering in the night air. "This was the best choice of your life."

Kael halted for a fraction of a second. Then, gritting his teeth, he kept walking.

"That boy... he acts like everything is in the palm of his hand."