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The day had been long, the comprehensive tour alongside Celestie having consumed a significant portion of my time. Together, we traversed the entire estate's expanse.

Upon concluding our exploration, we took our leave from one another. In line with custom, I gravitated toward my quarters—the master bedroom housed within the keep. The room itself emanated rustic elegance, featuring a central bed surrounded by nightstands. On the right stand rested a magical lamp manipulated by arcane means, casting light at my command.

A capacious fireplace adorned the room's front, flames dancing within, their warmth enveloping the space.

Venturing toward the room's rear, I arrived at the window. Situated atop the keep, my chamber proffered an expansive panorama, affording views over the horizon. Facing the gatehouse and the sprawling grasslands, the scene was unexpectedly tranquil, a sight that defied my initial expectations.

The vista rendered the entire estate worthwhile, justifying its acquisition.

Parting the window, I allowed a cool breeze to waft into the room. A deep inhalation filled my lungs as my gaze drifted outward.

A faint glimmer caught my attention, though its precise identity remained elusive from this distance. Employing enhanced vision—a third-tier magical spell amplifying my senses—I sought to clarify the source.

In my natural demonic state, such spells were unnecessary, yet my human guise hindered the full scope of my inherent abilities. Although mana consumption was a factor, the cost was not exorbitant.

My sight honed in on the approaching sight—the carriage, atop of which sat Dorros, the horses laboring beneath its weight as they made their way back to the mansion. Presumably, Arbos rested within.

As the magical augmentation waned, my vision reverted to normal, the effects of my spell dissipating after thirty seconds.

There are augmentation spells that extend this duration, but it was unnecessary for my present needs.

Pivoting, I abandoned the window, leaving it ajar, and advanced toward the crackling fireplace. The embers' glow captured my attention.

"I should venture outside," I murmured to myself, tired of remaining idle.

The moon hung aloft, casting its enigmatic gaze upon the land. I departed the confines of my chamber, directing my gaze toward the heavens, toward the stars above.

The world lay shrouded in slumber, or so it should have been. Yet I remained vigilant, focused upon the gatehouse ahead. Intent on welcoming Arbos to my estate, I set out for this purpose.

However, their arrival still remained distant.

Wandering into the garden, I found myself entranced by the verdant expanse. The vegetation seemed almost sentient, rustling leaves whispering secrets borne upon the breeze.

Approaching the central fountain, my survey was interrupted by a subtle, clinging noise—audible nearby.

Turning in the direction of the sound, I advanced gradually, drawing nearer to its source.

Bent over, wielding a small shovel, a boy busied himself digging through the soil before him. Engrossed in his task, he remained oblivious to my presence as I stood behind him, a silent observer of his efforts.

Unaware of my approach, he tended to the plants before him. His expression was one of contentment, a smile gracing his features. His eyes remained closed, his breaths exuding tranquility—contrasting with our initial encounter. He was at peace.

Finally, I interjected, my voice poised and composed. "Fear, it's rather late. Shouldn't you be resting?"

Startled, Fear jumped at the sound of my voice. Swiftly reorienting himself, he pivoted toward me, his eyes now wide open.

"No need for alarm—"

"I apologize, my lord! I was attending to the garden and became engrossed in my work!" Fear's words spilled forth in a rush of urgency. "I meant no disrespect, sire. I humbly request your forgiveness—"

"Apologies are unnecessary. I find it heartening that you're active at this hour."

His features etched with bewilderment, Fear inquired, "You—you—are?"

My gaze shifted toward the plants he diligently nurtured.

"What are these?"

"They are nightshade essence, my lord. A plant that flourishes solely within these gardens."

"Nightshade essence? I'm unfamiliar with it."

Fear's smile was gentle, his posture shifting as he crouched closer to the plants.

Resembling grass in stature, leafy like clover, the plants formed a compact patch. Despite their diminutive size, they were numerous. He plucked one of the specimens, offering it for my inspection.

"This plant is a specialty of mine. It demands meticulous care, my lord. Fragile and susceptible to harsh weather, its growth thrives on soil of balanced humidity. The proximity of other plants can also affect it—competing for nutrients or even strangling its growth. Though delicate, it's invaluable for potion-making."

"In what manner are they useful in potion-making?"

"The nightshade essence can prolong the efficacy of potions, extending their effects for days. This plant draws upon magical energy from the air to fuel its growth, making it a magical entity itself. Its counterpart, the shades of night, lacks the same magical growth propensity. The essence of nightshade's properties vary according to the strength of nearby auras."

They are affected by auras? So... What would happen if I released my aura suppression in front of them?

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In the distance, the echoing sounds of a carriage grew nearer, causing a shift in the atmosphere. As the carriage drew closer, Fear turned towards me, his eyes filled with questions.

Fixated on the gatehouse, our gaze witnessed the carriage's gradual approach, its pace slowing beneath the towering entrance. Dorros steered the carriage, guiding it to a stop. With an air of weariness, he descended from his perch, while the carriage door swung open, revealing Arbos descending the steps.

The journey had clearly taken its toll on Arbos, evident in his fatigued demeanor. The long passage from the kingdom to my domain spanned six arduous hours for them, a stark contrast to my own three-hour travel duration.

To my surprise, Arbos was now adorned in a rather exquisite manner. He wore a black suit and tie, attire typically reserved for nobility. This prompted a fleeting thought – had Dorros orchestrated Arbos's sophisticated attire?

Fear sought my attention, tugging at the sleeve of my robe. "Master, is that your son?" he inquired.

"He is,"

Though a falsehood, I found no qualms in allowing Arbos to be recognized as my son. He was my disciple, and the shared name between us lent itself to this logical arrangement.

"I understand," Fear responded.

"Fear, I wish for you to establish a friendship with Arbos. This extends to your sister as well. Considering Arbos as my son bestows upon him the title of lord within this domain. Therefore, treat him with the utmost respect."

"Yes, my lord!" Fear affirmed, his posture rigid as Dorros and Arbos approached.

Both of them bowed respectfully before me, their gestures filled with deference. Arbos and Dorros maintained their positions, awaiting my instructions.

"Please rise, both of you."

They straightened their postures, a silent exchange occurring between Arbos and Fear.

"Dorros, your journey has taken quite some time."

"Yes, my lord. I believed it was fitting for the prospective lord of this estate to be suitably attired."

"I concur. Your judgment was astute. I extend to you the use of the keep and all the hospitality it has to offer. Choose from the unoccupied rooms and make yourself at home."

Dorros nodded in acknowledgment, lifting his package from the ground beside him. He offered a respectful nod and a gesture of farewell as he left to the keep.

Arbos stood before me now. His gaze met Fear's, yet no animosity lingered between them. Perhaps, just children being children.

"Arbos, I assume your journey today was quite taxing?"

He seemed lost in thought, but with a swift motion, his attention shifted towards me. "Yes, my lord."

"Why don't you follow me? We have a lot to discuss."

Turning, I signaled for Arbos to follow me, leaving Fear to enjoy his time amidst the gardens.

We stepped into the keep, Arbos trailing behind me. As we ascended the stairs, we climbed to the second level, then the third. Finally, we reached the staircase leading to the fourth level, the final level, where I turned to face him.

"Arbos, from this day forward, you shall stand as not only my disciple but as my cherished son."

Arbos echoed my words, astonishment dancing in his eyes like fleeting sparks. "Your son...?"

"Yes. Your unwavering dedication and remarkable growth have rightfully earned you this esteemed privilege. The time has come for you to embrace a new mantle of responsibility within this realm."

Before Arbos could respond, I preemptively continued, "You've already shed the vestiges of your life as a commoner, embracing the path of authority and renown. Your role as my son will only strengthen our name within the empire, bringing thousands to our cause. To help your people, to return glory to the Demi-Humans. I am confident that you'll receive this proposition with the utmost gratitude. Or do my instincts deceive me?"

With those words, I closed off any avenue of refusal.

"I understand..." He replied in a hushed tone. "I will bear the role of your son, but... are you entirely certain that I am the one you seek for this honor?"

Bending down to his eye level, I peered into his gaze. He averted his eyes, his gaze drifting away as he met my intense, burning red eyes that seemed to peer into the depths of his soul.

"I discern a spark of yearning within you... coupled with the resolve to seize it... a trait that I hold in great esteem... Your resemblance to my past self is striking... I yearn to bestow upon you the opportunity to nurture these burgeoning powers of yours. I trust you will take my teachings to heart, and use them to the glory of my name, our name."

"You must be weary," I spoke, straightening up to a more customary stance, though my gaze remained fixed on him. "Yet, tell me, how do you fare? Taking a life cannot have been an effortless endeavor for you."

He hesitated briefly. Choosing to divert the conversation, he spoke.

"With your permission, my lord, I shall retire to my chambers..."

He exhibited reluctance to delve deeper, and I elected not to press the matter further.

"Very well. You may depart then..."

With a subtle nod, he acknowledged my restraint and made his leave. As I watched him make his exit, I mumbled under my breath.

Clever indeed... I shall allow him this triumph for the time being...

Climbing the staircase, I ascended to the upper floor and directed my steps towards my chambers.

Stepping into the expanse of the master bedroom, I felt an involuntary pull toward the window once more, my gaze fixated on the outside world that sprawled below. A myriad of thoughts danced through my mind as I took in the sprawling expanse of my domain.

Amidst this contemplation, my attention was drawn to Fear, who still moved amidst the gardens, an air of unease surrounding him, evident even from this distance.

"Summon Watcher."

An ethereal eye materialized before me, its gaze unwavering and awaiting my instruction. Pointing towards the young man amidst the gardens, I directed the watcher to shadow him, to unravel any hidden truths and report back any significant discoveries.

Left to the solitude of my room, I spoke softly to the empty space, my voice carrying a tinge of concern, "What has unsettled him so? His demeanor is far from usual..."

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Left alone amidst the tranquil gardens, Fear resumed his tasks with a renewed focus. Yet, as he pivoted, his attention was captured by the strand of nightshade he had picked earlier to exhibit to his lord. To his bewilderment, the once vibrant leaves now bore a deep black hue, an anomaly he had never encountered. While the surrounding flora thrived, the plant in his grasp emanated a faint but unmistakable undercurrent of negative energy.

"What in the name of Terras?"

Releasing the nightshade, he watched as it descended to the earth. Its newfound negative energy had even seared his skin upon contact. His gaze remained fixed upon the inky leaves of the plant, a perplexed frown on his face. What force could have orchestrated such a metamorphosis?

Kneeling down for a closer inspection, Fear was taken aback as the nightshade's leaves anchored themselves into the soil. Witnessing a severed plant regrowing itself was an unparalleled experience, one that left him utterly astonished.

The blackened nightshade seemed to have developed a will of its own, shrouded in an aura of darkness.

Without delay, he hurried towards the back of the keep where a modest cottage stood, serving as his toolshed. Grabbing a pre-filled pot from the assortment, he hastened back to the garden.

Carefully, he snipped the nightshade, the once-vivid plant that had embedded itself into the earth, and gingerly nestled it within the pot. Astonishingly, the nightshade promptly straightened and insinuated its tendrils into the awaiting soil.

Silently, he transported the potted enigma back to the shed. Once inside, a sense of urgency propelled him to scour the space. Seizing a container of water, he poured it onto the plant. Instantly, the nightshade reacted, absorbing every drop of moisture within the soil.

He rubbed his eyes in disbelief, questioning the reality before him. Swiftly, he reached for a glass jar and positioned it over the plant, draping it with a cloth cover.

With that accomplished, he exited the shed and retraced his steps to the keep. His thoughts raced, though fatigue had begun to cast a heavy shadow over his mind. The hour was ungodly late, and his endurance had been stretched to its limits.