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Esdeath Rivenhart

As the afternoon sun reached its peak, Rowan and his son Ujjain arrived at the Vanara tribe. But they didn't come alone—over two hundred tribe members and guards traveled with them. Even though Rowan counted Mourya as a friend, he knew that in the world of tribes, friendship was fragile, and trust was scarce. Here, deep in the Vanara territory, he could never fully relax.

Upon their arrival, they received a warm welcome from Mourya's family. Mourya's three sons, his daughter Sasha, and other tribe members were all present, greeting Rowan and Ujjain with respectful nods and smiles. Only Maruti was noticeably absent.

Rowan and Ujjain, as father and son, bore a striking resemblance. Both had fiery red hair, broad muscular frames, and powerful chests—classic marks of the tribe's strength and stature. Towering over most, their tall, sturdy forms embodied the warrior spirit, though among the other tall tribesmen, they didn't stand out as much. Ujjain, with his youthful face and intense gaze, looked like a younger mirror of his father.

Rowan's eyes wandered to the grand structure that Mourya called home. It wasn't a typical palace, but a vast, unique building with multiple connected houses, forming a massive half-circle around a beautiful garden. The place radiated power and status.

"Hmm… Soon, all of this will be mine," Rowan thought with a smirk as he stepped through the entry gate, feeling the weight of his ambition settle over him.

After the initial greetings and formalities, Rowan and Ujjain were shown to their rooms, each spacious and welcoming. Ujjain was encouraged to rest, and while Rowan was offered the same, he decided he'd rather explore this vast home.

As he strolled through the open corridors, he took in every detail—the solid stone and wooden walls, intricate carvings, and open spaces where flowers bloomed and birds chirped. Rowan could almost feel the pulse of the tribe within these walls, a mix of strength, history, and pride. The garden scenery stretched wide around the circular complex, and Rowan's mind wandered, envisioning it all as his own one day.

Rowan walked slowly, his steps quiet as he explored Mourya's home. The halls were calm, filled with the soft sounds of the tribe going about their day. But then, he stopped abruptly. At a turn in the corridor, he caught the sound of voices drifting around the corner. Curiosity sparked, and he moved forward carefully, peeking around the edge to see who was talking.

What he saw surprised him—there stood Maruti, talking closely with Esdeath. Rowan recognized Maruti right away, and Mourya's words flashed in his mind as he looked at the other girl. "Ah, so that's Esdeath Crimson," he thought, studying her.

He stayed hidden, listening as Esdeath laughed, her voice carrying a mocking tone.

"Hahaha… I know! It's hilarious that he still hasn't noticed what an idiot he is," Esdeath chuckled, her laughter echoing through the hallway.

Rowan's eyes narrowed as he listened. Then, Maruti sighed dramatically, crossing her arms. "But what bad luck… We made a deal with your family and almost wiped out Rowan's entire family, but unfortunately, he and his youngest son managed to survive. And now that fool wants to marry me!"

Hearing this, Rowan felt a chill creep over him, but he kept his expression calm. He strained to hear every word.

Esdeath placed a reassuring hand on Maruti's shoulder, her eyes gleaming with pride. "Don't worry, my love. My family and the Vanara tribe's warriors are ready. Today, we'll kill Ujjain, and your father will finish off Rowan. Once we do, we'll seize the Lothal tribe. With the second-strongest tribe under our control, we'll have enough power to rival the entire kingdom."

The word "seize" rang in Rowan's ears like a thunderclap, and his eyes widened in shock. "Seize the tribe…?" The betrayal was almost too much to process.

"Let's go!" Esdeath said, giving Maruti a quick nod. They turned to leave, their confidence clear in their stride.

But then, Rowan stepped forward, his voice cold and commanding. "Stop, daughter-in-law!"

The sudden sound of his voice made both girls freeze. Maruti spun around, her face instantly draining of color. Panic flickered in her eyes. "Did he hear us?" she whispered frantically, her mind racing.

Esdeath, however, smirked, unfazed. "Of course not. He can't understand the kingdom's language. Even if we talk right in front of him, this fool wouldn't understand a word," she sneered, her tone dripping with arrogance.

Rowan scratched his head, feigning confusion, and spoke in the Vanara tribe's language. "Did you just say something, little girl?" His voice was laced with puzzlement, but his sharp gaze never left Esdeath.

Although esdeath didn't understand what he said but his gesture was clearly saying what he was saying.

Esdeath's smirk widened, confidence gleaming in her eyes. "See? He doesn't understand a thing!" she scoffed, barely holding back a laugh.

Relief washed over Maruti's face. She let out a shaky sigh and quickly forced a respectful smile, nodding politely. "No, nothing, Elder Rowan. We were just chatting," she said in the Vanara language, trying to keep her voice steady. She bowed low, paying her respects, while Esdeath's expression remained defiant.

"We're in a hurry to prepare for the battle," Maruti said quickly, grabbing Esdeath's hand to pull her away. Her heart pounded as she tried to guide Esdeath out of Rowan's sight, eager to escape before anything more could go wrong.

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But Esdeath stopped, pulling her hand free. "Wait a moment," she said with a sly smile, turning back to Rowan. "I didn't introduce myself, did I?"

With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she walked toward Rowan, extending her hand confidently. "Hello, Mister. My name is Esdeath," she said, her tone smooth and lighthearted, but she spoke in her own language, knowing Rowan wouldn't understand.

Maruti sighed, a hint of frustration in her expression as she translated, "She said her name is Esdeath Crimson."

Rowan raised an eyebrow, not looking surprised. "Oh… I already know. Your father told me about her—Esdeath Crimson," he replied, his voice calm but with a hint of caution.

Maruti rolled her eyes slightly, feeling like she was merely a translator at this point. She relayed Rowan's words to Esdeath with a bored tone, "He says he already knows. Your name is Esdeath Crimson."

Esdeath's eyes sparkled with a bit of defiance. "What? Crimson is just a nickname my mother gave me because of my crimson eyes. Tell him my real name is Esdeath Rivenhart—"

Before Esdeath could finish, Maruti's eyes widened, and she quickly clamped her hand over Esdeath's mouth, stopping her words. "Don't say your family name so freely!" she hissed under her breath, shooting her a sharp look. Her hand gripped Esdeath's arm tightly, and she forced a smile as she turned back to Rowan.

"We really should be going!" Maruti blurted out, laughing nervously. Without waiting for Rowan's reply, she tugged Esdeath away with urgency, practically dragging her down the corridor as she gave Rowan one last awkward wave.

The corridor fell silent as their footsteps faded away, leaving Rowan alone. His mind spun with the strange encounter, and his expression darkened, tension evident in his stance. A storm of emotions twisted inside him—suspicion, anger, and an unsettling feeling .

"Rivenhart… Esdeath Rivenhart!" he murmured to himself, clenching his fists as he processed what he'd just learned. The name stirred up bitter feelings, and his eyes burned with anger.

The name "Rivenhart" always brought a dark shadow over Rowan's heart, filling him with anger and bitterness. Years ago, in their relentless quest for power and territory, the Rivenhart family had invaded the lands of his tribe, the Lothal, pushing them deep into the dense forests to fend for themselves. The invasion was ruthless, leaving scars on Rowan's soul that would never heal.

In that brutal clash, he lost nearly everything. Many of his fellow tribesmen fell to the Rivenharts' soldiers, their lives taken in an instant. Worse, many of those who survived the attack were taken as prisoners and turned into slaves, forced to toil day and night under the Rivenhart's cruel rule. Rowan's family was nearly wiped out, leaving him with few loved ones and even fewer allies. The memories haunted him, each one stinging like a fresh wound.

That day, standing among the ruins and bodies, Rowan swore revenge on the Rivenhart family and anyone who dared to ally with them. His anger burned so deeply that he even decided to learn the language of the kingdom—a language few in his tribe bothered with. "If I can't understand the words of my enemy, how will I ever defeat them?" he'd told himself. And so, he learned, silently preparing for the day he'd face the Rivenharts again.

But Rowan was no fool. He knew his own forces could never match the size and strength of the Rivenhart army. So, he came up with a plan. If he could ally himself with the Vanara tribe, they might stand a chance against the Rivenharts. The Vanara leader, Mourya, was a friend, but Mourya's son lacked his father's wisdom and strength, making the tribe vulnerable in the future. Rowan saw his opportunity. Marrying his son, Ujjain, into Mourya's family would strengthen the bond between the tribes, and one day, Rowan hoped to gain influence over the Vanaras through this connection.

Sasha, Mourya's eldest daughter, was not an option for marriage— Being The Eldest daughter she had ambitions to study at the academy and explore her own path. That left Maruti, who, although not beautiful by traditional standards, had the family name and position Rowan needed. Ujjain, loyal as always, accepted the marriage without a word of complaint, following his father's wishes completely.

Now, as Rowan hid in the shadows, listening to Maruti and Esdeath's conversation, he understood every word they spoke. They thought he was clueless, but in truth, their words were crystal clear to him. Despite his anger, he kept his face blank, pretending not to understand. He was in enemy territory, and any reckless move could cost him and his men dearly.

"All my plans to gain the Vanara tribe's support and then stab on their back… wasted." Gritting his teeth, he fought to keep his expression neutral.

"Every Rivenhart deserves to die," he swore quietly to himself, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. "And everyone tied to the Rivenharts will pay too. I will have my revenge… no matter the cost."

Turning away from the scene, he began walking back down the corridor, anger blazing in his eyes. But his mind remained sharp and calculating. "Good thing I learned the kingdom's language," he thought, almost mocking their assumption of his ignorance. "They think I'm a fool, but I'll play this game carefully. I only have my son, Ujjain, and 200 of my warriors here. The rest of my people need to know what's happening. We'll need every bit of strength we can muster."

Rowan strode through the dimly lit corridor, his mind churning with plans, when he suddenly bumped into his son, Ujjain. Standing before him with his usual calm expression, Ujjain's sharp green eyes narrowed slightly as he stopped and bowed his head in respect.

"Father, it's almost evening," Ujjain began, his tone steady but with a hint of reluctance. "According to our plan, I'll spare that girl. Killing a weak, lonely girl with no backup might hurt our reputation with other tribes."

Rowan's gaze hardened, his face a mask of cold, calculating indifference. "Kill both of them," he ordered, his voice utterly devoid of emotion.

"W-what?" Ujjain blinked, genuinely taken aback by his father's words.

Rowan's eyes darkened, and his tone grew sharper. "I said kill both of them. No matter what."

Swallowing his surprise, Ujjain bowed his head again. "As you wish, Father," he replied, his voice steady but his expression troubled as he turned and left.

---

As the sun dipped lower, casting a warm orange glow across the land, evening finally arrived. It was a moment everyone in the Vanara tribe had eagerly awaited. In the heart of the tribe's village stood a grand battle arena—massive and ancient, a structure that seemed like it belonged in a myth. The arena, made entirely of sturdy stone, was circular, with seating rising around it in tiers to accommodate hundreds of spectators. Unlike the arenas in the academy, however, this one had no protective barriers. Any mistake could put the crowd in danger, but the thrill of risk only added to the excitement.

The arena was buzzing with anticipation. People filled the seats, whispers and murmurs spreading like wildfire as they waited for the battle between Ujjain and the unlikely duo of Maruti and Esdeath.

Rowan sat beside Mourya, the chief of the Vanara tribe, in the special seats reserved at the top center of the arena, giving them the perfect view. Beside Rowan lay a large briefcase, one that had not gone unnoticed by Mourya.

"What's with the large briefcase?" Mourya asked, his tone curious but guarded.

Rowan smiled, giving a small nod. "This? It's a gift for you," he answered smoothly, "but I'll give it to you later."

Mourya chuckled politely, though his mind raced with questions. He didn't want to appear suspicious in front of Rowan—any misstep could offend him and tarnish the tribe's reputation. "If I ask about "that" Directly, he'll think I don't trust him. I can't risk that," he thought, masking his concerns with a practiced smile.

Suddenly, the chatter in the arena quieted, and all eyes turned toward the center. Ujjain, a towering figure at 6 feet 7 inches, strode into the ring, his powerful build casting an imposing shadow. Despite his size, he was dwarfed by Mourya, who stood over seven feet tall,Practically no on was as tall as him, Not even Rowan. Still, Ujjain's presence was enough to make the crowd murmur with excitement.

Across the arena, Maruti and Esdeath entered together. Maruti, wearing a tracksuit with a broken zipper, looked determined but a bit flustered, her expression a mix of nervousness and resolve. Next to her, Esdeath walked with a calm confidence, her gaze steady and focused on Ujjain.

As they reached the center of the ring, Esdeath shrugged off her hoodie, revealing a simple sports bra beneath. The intense heat of the sun had already started to make her sweat, and she decided it was better to stay cool.

Esdeath's mind raced as she recalled the history between the tribes. "In original story line, Rowan's plan had actually worked." she thought with a sly smile. "He managed to join forces with the Vanara tribe to attack the Rivenhart family. But that was one and half year later, things can change."

The Rivenhart family now had powerful offspring, Sylvania Rivenhart, a student at the academy and Ethan's friend.

And At that time, Ethan's group(Harem) even included Princess Ravenna, which meant the entire kingdom was backing them, including the story's main hero. With support like that, how could the Rivenhart family ever lose?

"But none of that really matters to me," Esdeath mused, her smile widening. "If these two tribes go to war, it'll just give me the perfect chance to slip away from here."