“As you command, Your Majesty.”
The moment Aseop finished his sentence, he moved with slow and deliberate steps. Every eye around him was fixed on him with caution. The servants, the knights, and the members of the Hyctria family—all of them were watching him. The man standing before them was no ordinary person. He was Esop Devalli, the mentor and former guardian of the late Empress, and one of the ten leaders of the Imperial Guard. His reputation was legendary in its own right.
As he approached Nikos and stood firmly before him, an aura of dignity rooted in years of power and wisdom surrounded him. With sunken yet sharp eyes, he looked at Nikos with a gaze that pierced his very being. Those eyes did not merely observe; they searched the depths of his soul.
A few seconds passed before Aesop’s brows tightened into a deep furrow. His voice, heavy with authority, echoed throughout the space. “In accordance with the request submitted by the Hyctria family for the young Nikos to join the Imperial Knights, he will now be evaluated according to our standards. My decision will determine his eligibility… or his rejection.”
The words hung in the air, final and uncompromising, yet beneath Aesop’s composed exterior, something churned. Anger simmered quietly, like a slow, relentless fire refusing to be extinguished. His thoughts betrayed his growing frustration: “Damn it! They dragged me all the way from the capital for this? “The bitterness clung to the back of his mind, like a persistent shadow. “I, Aesop Devalli, reduced to this? What a disgrace!”
He closed his eyes for a few seconds, trying to calm his nerves, but his mind conjured up a recent memory.
In one of the dimly lit corridors of the imperial castle, Aesop’s steps echoed softly against the floor. His fingers tightened slightly around a white letter bearing an intricate seal, its design resembling the delicate shape of leaves.
As he walked down the seemingly endless corridor, a sound broke the stillness: hurried footsteps, quick and light, growing louder behind him. Aesop paused, and slowly turned. His sharp gaze fell on a young boy running toward him, his breath coming in quick, uneven bursts. The boy’s uniform, though familiar in style, struck Aesop as odd. The usual dark tones of a servant’s attire were replaced by bright white, making him stand out in the castle’s halls.
The boy’s face was flushed with anxiety, beads of sweat tracing a path down his forehead. But when his eyes met Aesop’s, a sudden transformation occurred a wide, genuine smile spread across his face, and he began waving eagerly.
Aesop’s lips pressed into a thin line, frustration flashing briefly across his face. “Of all times…” he muttered under his breath, not moving an inch. His cold gaze remained fixed on the boy, who was now mere steps away, still running with an excited energy.
Finally, the boy skidded to a halt in front of him, his breath ragged. He leaned over, hands on his knees, gasping for air, as if the weight of the castle itself had been on his shoulders. Aesop stood motionless, his eyes narrowing, waiting for the boy to gather himself.
In a calm voice, Aesop spoke, “So, what is it, Sergius?”
The young servant, still catching his breath, lifted his head, his face flushed from both exertion and nervousness. “Thank goodness… Master Aesop, I finally found you. The princess wishes to see you immediately.”
Aesop’s brow arched slightly, though his gaze remained fixed on the letter in his hand. The sealed message was from Moon Village, its wax still unbroken. His mind was busy with questions: “How could she know already? i hadn’t even read its contents yet.” Without sparing Sergius another glance, he resumed walking briskly, his robes swaying with each step. “Tell her I’m not back yet.”
Sergius stood frozen for a moment, blinking in confusion. His hand absentmindedly scratched his head as he muttered under his breath, “But… you are here…” He hesitated before shaking his head resolutely, clenching his small fists as if gathering his courage. “No, I won’t do it.”
Aesop stopped abruptly. He turned, his sharp eyes now trained on the young servant. His voice, though low, carried a distinct edge. “What did you just say, little boy?”
Sergius straightened up, his heart pounding in his chest, but he didn’t back down. he shouted, “I said I won’t do it! I won’t tell her what you want. I’ll never lie to the my princess!”
A brief pause hung in the air before a small, almost amused smile crept onto Aesop’s face. “Kid, don’t go playing the noble servant in front of her,” he said, his voice laced with mild sarcasm. “You know she doesn’t care for that.”
At the far end of the hallway, Princess Eileen appeared, standing beside Leon. Her arms were tightly crossed over her chest, and her puffed-out cheeks betrayed her irritation. Her brows were deeply furrowed, her eyes locked onto Aesop with an expression that could only mean one thing: her patience was running thin.
Sergius tried—and failed—to stifle a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand as he whispered, “Hehehe, no need to pretend. My loyalty to the princess is absolute.”
Before Aesop could respond, Princess Eileen’s voice cut through the corridor like a whip as she strode toward them, her steps firm and unhurried. Leon followed silently behind her, his usual imposing figure casting a long shadow in the dim light. “I sent you, Sergius, to fetch him,” she said, her tone exasperated, “and now here I am, doing your job for you.” She stopped a few steps away, her sharp eyes narrowing. “So tell me, why the delay? Is it really that difficult to find an old man who’s practically at the end of his life?”
Sergius swallowed hard, his face flushed with embarrassment as he scratched his cheek, eyes firmly fixed on the floor. “Forgive my failure, Your Highness. I’m truly sorry. I have no excuse… except my own incompetence.”
Before he could finish, Princess Eileen closed the distance with swift, deliberate steps. Without warning, she reached out and seized Sergius by the ear in a sharp. His small frame recoiled slightly, but he didn’t resist, his shoulders slumping in a way that suggested this was far from the first time he had endured such treatment. It was less a punishment and more a familiar, almost playful reprimand.
Eileen’s piercing gaze then shifted to Aesop, her annoyance clear, though there was a flicker of something else in her eyes.
Aesop, on the other hand, seemed thoroughly unbothered, if not mildly entertained by her childish display of anger. The corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk.
Eileen sighed deeply, releasing her grip on Sergius’s ear, her exasperation evident. “Aesop… do you avoid your princess and instruct her messenger to lie? Do you realize I could consider this treason and have you executed on the spot?”
The words had barely left her lips when Leon, ever the loyal knight, immediately unsheathed his sword. He stepped forward, the air around him thickening with a palpable killing intent, his eyes locked on Aesop. But Aesop, as though such threats were a daily occurrence, remained completely still. Not a muscle twitched. His indifferent smile stayed firmly in place.
Sergius, on the other hand, felt his heart leap into his throat. His eyes widened in terror, and without hesitation, he darted behind the princess, clutching her dress tightly.
Eileen’s expression darkened with sudden fury. She shot Leon a sharp nudge in the side, her voice rising with anger. “What are you doing?”
Leon stopped in his tracks, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Didn’t you just say he was a traitor?” he asked, bewilderment clear in his tone.
Her patience wearing thin, Eileen jabbed him again—harder this time. “Sheathe your sword immediately, you idiot!”
Leon, obeyed without another word. The sword slid back into its scabbard with a metallic hiss, and he stepped back, shoulders stiff, as Eileen’s scathing glare followed him.
Aesop sighed, his shoulders rising and falling with a weariness, he raised his hand and gently patted Eileen’s head, his smile and said. “What can this old man possibly do to keep his head, Princess?”
Eileen’s usual smile returned, and she let out a soft chuckle. “Your princess is merciful and will overlook this little mishap… as long as you promise to take her with you to Moon Village.”
Aesop’s brow arched in mild confusion, his eyes searching hers for a moment. “Take you with me to Moon Village? who told you I was going there?”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Eileen gave a gesture, towards the letter in his hand, as if the answer were obvious.
Aesop’s gaze shifted down to the sealed letter he held, the emblem of House Hyctria still unbroken. His brows furrowed as he carefully broke the seal, unfolding the letter with deliberate precision. His eyes scanned the contents, his expression darkening slightly as he read. When he finished, he looked back at her, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “How did you know about this?”
Eileen tilted her head, a picture of innocence, her lips forming a small, knowing smile. Yet, she said nothing, her gaze drifting away from his.
Aesop continued to study her face in silence for a few moments. Finally, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “The more I look at you, the more I see her… your mother. you truly resemble her in every way.”
Eileen laughed, waving her hand dismissively, as though accustomed to hearing such comments. “Yes, yes, I’ve heard that my whole life. Everyone says it.” She tilted her head with her eyes sparkling. “Now, will you take me with you or not?”
Aesop’s smile faded as he slowly folded the letter, slipping it back into his pocket. His voice was calm, but firm. “No, I won’t. I’m going to decline their request.”
Eileen’s playful expression immediately dropped, replaced with a pout of frustration. “You boring old man, why don’t you want to go?”
Aesop responded with a tired sigh. “Two months ago, I received an order from the emperor to travel to the border between our empire and the Bakhtarian Kingdom. I was tasked with delivering five letters, and for reasons I still don’t fully understand, His Majesty insisted that all of them be handed over at the exact same time.”
Eileen’s brow furrowed slightly. “Oh? Really?” she asked, her clueless expression revealing her genuine intrigue. “And what happened after you delivered them? What was their response?”
Aesop shook his head, his face unreadable. “I don’t know. I left as soon as I handed over the letters. But from what I remember, the tension was high. They seemed to be on high alert. On my way back, I saw the emperor himself leading a massive army toward the Bakhtarian border. When he met me on the road, he ordered me to return to the capital immediately and to keep silent.”
Eileen’s gaze sharpened, a trace of suspicion creeping into her tone. “If my father ordered you to stay quiet, then why are you telling me this now?”
Aesop’s face softened, a smile creeping onto his lips. He gently patted her head. “Come now, girl. You know you’re my favorite, the one closest to my heart. For you, a few exceptions can always be made.”
Eileen dramatically placed her hands over her face, turning from side to side with an exaggerated expression of mock embarrassment. “You’re making me blush, old man!” she teased, her voice playful. But then her tone shifted, curiosity creeping back in. “But I still don’t get it—what does any of this have to do with you refusing to go to Moon Village?”
Aesop’s response straightforward. “My grandchildren. I’ve missed them, and I want to spend time with them.”
Eileen blinked. “And your heart really lets you refuse a request from your favorite?”
Aesop chuckled, gently pulling her hands away from her head and turning to walk down the hallway. Without missing a beat, he threw a final remark over his shoulder “For my grandchildren? Absolutely, I would.”
From that moment onward, for an entire week, Eileen relentlessly pursued Aesop, never letting a single day pass without insisting that he accompany her to Moon Village. She employed every trick she could think of—flattery, playful manipulation, even shamelessly enlisting his wife, children, and grandchildren in her campaign to sway him. Every day, they would corner him with their smiles and gentle prodding, and despite his resolve, Aesop found his defenses slowly wearing down under the combined force of their pressure. In the end, it wasn’t his willpower but the sheer tenacity of the princess that prevailed, and Aesop finally surrendered with a resigned sigh, agreeing to make the journey.
In the present, in front of the Hyctria family palace…
Aesop stood still, his eyes fixed on the clear sky above. He let out a long, quiet breath, reflecting inwardly. If the princess hadn’t forced me to come, I’d be back home right now, enjoying a peaceful afternoon with my grandchildren. This isn’t fair… not at all. His lips pressed together in a thin line as he mused. It seems the time has finally come to submit my retirement letter.
But he quickly brushed aside the sentiment, shaking his head slightly as he forced himself to refocus on the task before him. The present demanded his full attention, and there would be time for daydreams later—when the weight of duty no longer rested on his shoulders.
With an air of nonchalance, Aesop reached into the folds of his robe and pulled out a small vial. The liquid inside shimmered faintly under the sunlight, casting a soft glow as he held it out to Nikos. “Here, take it,” Aesop said. “Bare your body, drink this, and let’s see what you’re made of.”
Nikos stared at the vial, the shimmering liquid reflecting in his golden eyes as he hesitated for a brief moment. His fingers hovered just above it before he finally gave a small nod. Wordlessly, he began to remove his shirt, the fabric sliding off to reveal a physique sculpted by years of grueling discipline. His muscles were tightly defined, each line a testament to the countless hours he had spent training, pushing his body to its limits.
behind the tree, Cyrus watched in silence, his eyes locked onto his brother’s form. Nikos stood tall, his body sculpted by years of relentless training, every muscle honed with purpose. There was no denying it—Nikos looked every bit the warrior he was destined to become, a living symbol of strength and discipline.
In contrast, Cyrus felt a familiar pang of inadequacy. His own body, by comparison, seemed fragile, his limbs thin and wiry, more like branches swaying in the wind than those of a soldier. The reason for this was painfully clear—Cyrus had never trained like Nikos, nor had he been given the guidance of a mentor. His world had been shaped by running, evading, slipping in and out of shadows, developing only the endurance of someone accustomed to being on the move, never standing to fight.
Yet despite the stark contrast between them, Cyrus felt no envy, no bitterness toward his brother. Instead, a proud smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he continued to watch Nikos, admiration swelling in his chest. He had always taken pride in Nikos’s achievements, knowing that his brother’s strength and potential were something to be celebrated. Nikos was the warrior of the family, the one meant for greatness—and Cyrus, in his quiet way, had accepted that long ago.
For Cyrus, it was enough to observe from the sidelines, to witness his brother’s rise without the shadow of jealousy clouding his heart.
Once Nikos had fully revealed his upper body, he took the vial in his hand and, without hesitation, downed its contents in a single gulp. As the liquid slid down his throat, a flicker of confusion passed over his face. Huh? he thought, his brows knitting together. It’s… tasteless? I thought it’d be salty or bitter, something strange like that.
Raising his eyebrows, Nikos glanced at Aesop. “Is this water?”
Aesop’s expression remained steady, he replied. “No, it’s called Vutaris. Once you add aura to it, it begins to emit light. The color of the light depends on the type of aura you possess. By drinking it, we’ll be able to clearly see your aura veins.”
Nikos’s confusion gave way to intrigue, his eyes lighting up with curiosity. He nodded eagerly, his voice brimming with anticipation. “Really? That sounds… interesting. So, what do I do now?”
Aesop “All you have to do is unleash your aura. Don’t hold back—let it all flow out at once so we can get a clear picture of what we’re dealing with.”
With a confident smirk, Nikos responded, “That’s easy.”
He shifted his stance, loosening his muscles, and letting his body relax in preparation. Slowly, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with air. As he exhaled, his breath steady and controlled, a subtle breeze began to stir around him. His hair fluttered lightly in the wind, and a faint glow started to envelop his surroundings, the air around him gradually shifting to a deep shade of blue.
Aesop observed the change. “Not bad, boy. Keep going.”
Nikos continued to gather his energy, focusing intensely, his body seeming to hum with the potential that was building up inside him. For several long seconds, he held the energy at bay, letting it build to a crescendo. Then, with a sudden snap, his eyes flew open.
In that instant, he unleashed his aura with raw, unchecked force. The energy exploded from him, radiating in all directions like a storm unleashed. The blue aura surged outward chaotically, filling the space around him with a wild, uncontrollable power. The sheer intensity of it shook the air, causing the ground beneath him to tremble slightly, and his hair whipped violently in the surge.
Nikos’ aura surged outward with such overwhelming intensity that those nearby instinctively recoiled, forced to step back under the crushing weight of his energy. The air itself seemed to ripple with the force. Alexander immediately positioned himself in front of Andromeda. In contrast, Princess Eileen, Knight Leon, and Aesop stood their ground, completely unaffected by the pressure, as if an invisible barrier shielded them from the aura’s massive surge.
As Nikos fully unleashed his power, deep blue lines began to appear on his skin, snaking from his head to his feet like veins coursing with pure energy. These glowing lines spread across almost every inch of his body, bathing him in a faint blue light. At the center of his chest, a radiant circle formed, pulsating with a bright blue hue that illuminated his entire torso, as if the very core of his being was now exposed for all to see.
Aesop, who had remained calm and composed up until this moment, suddenly broke into uncontrollable laughter. His booming voice filled the air, echoing through the courtyard. “Hahaha! Incredible! Absolutely incredible, boy! I can’t believe what I’m seeing with my own eyes! You’re nearly there—no, you’re just like them! Hahaha!”
His laughter reverberated like a drumbeat, mixing with the crackling energy of Nikos’s aura. Meanwhile, Princess Eileen’s eyes widened in sheer shock, her normally composed face giving way to disbelief. Her eyebrows arched as high as they could go, her breath caught in her throat. What was unfolding before her far exceeded anything she could have imagined.
Beside Cyrus, Doubt He whispered dryly, “Isn’t this a bit much?” He then turned his gaze toward Cyrus, staring at him for a few long moments before letting out a deep, exaggerated sigh, the weight of disappointment heavy in his voice. “You really do look like you’re suffering from a terminal illness compared to him.”
Cyrus stay in silent unable to muster a defense. The truth stood there, undeniable. Being the twin of someone like Nikos felt like the universe’s cruelest joke. The gap between them was so vast, so glaring, it felt absurd. Nikos was a blazing star, while Cyrus… was just a faint flicker, barely noticed in the night.
As Nikos finally reined in his aura, the massive wave of energy that had pulsed from his body dissipated, leaving behind only the faint blue lines still glowing on his skin. The air, once thick with power, now hung heavy with silence. Blinking in confusion, Nikos glanced around, taken aback by the wide-eyed stares of those around him. Uncomfortable under the sudden weight of their attention, he scratched his head awkwardly, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips.
The quiet stretched on for a moment longer until Aesop, began clapping, his hands meeting in loud, enthusiastic bursts. His applause echoed through the space, and after a beat, the others followed suit, their hesitant clapping growing into an appreciative round.