In the opulent living room adorned with lavish furnishings, Erma, a striking young woman with raven-black hair elegantly tied into a ponytail, graced the space. Her captivating green eyes sparkled with a unique depth, and the delicate curve of her lips hinted at both determination and grace.
Seated beside her was Isabel, a middle-aged woman with a cascade of flowing brown hair and warm green eyes that shone with kindness. Her tender smile exuded a comforting presence.
Amid the refined setting, Erma and Isabel engaged in lively conversation. Erma, animated and passionate, spoke of Rafael's remarkable accomplishments—the seventh child of the Dalma family.
"Rafael's been doing so much for Iskar City, helping citizens, defeating monsters. He's already gained the hearts of the people. I think he's close to surpassing the first."
"Rafael has always had a kind heart. It's heartwarming to see him making a positive impact." Isabel, radiating warmth, supported Erma's optimism for Rafael's potential to instigate change within the family.
"Yes, and I believe he can bring real change. He's the one who should lead the family." Erma nodded confidently.
"This is wonderful. God knows this family needs a change," Isabel said with a complicated expression.
Suddenly, the tranquil atmosphere took an unexpected turn as Erma abruptly sensed a familiar aura.
"This familiar aura!" Alarmed, Erma hastily rose from her seat, prompting Isabel to follow suit. In the main corridor, their astonishment grew as they confronted Fray entering the building.
Erma, her expression now cold and annoyed, wasted no time. "Fray!?"
Fray met Erma's gaze, recognizing the tension that had defined their relationship over the years. Isabel stood like a shadow beside her, shy and stressed.
"Hello, sister," Fray greeted, his tone holding a hint of formality.
Erma, with a forceful tone, questioned, "You were supposed to be gone for good. What brings you back?"
Erma Dalma, nineteen years old, is Fray's sister, two years older than him. Fray and Erma's relationship had always been strained, amplified by Erma's support for Rafael—Fray's adversary in the throne competition. The shy woman accompanying Erma was Isabel, the mother shared by both Fray and Erma. Throughout the years, Erma and Isabel had treated Fray as an enemy, leading him to never truly consider them family.
Fray responded, "Just circumstances."
Erma's eyes narrowed. "Your return is not welcome."
Fray, sensing the escalating tension, replied calmly, "I know, but I will return anyway."
Erma, her expression even uglier, spat, "Alright, you'll regret this decision." With an annoyed huff, she turned and stormed off. Isabel hesitated for a moment, casting a complicated glance toward Fray before following her daughter down the corridor.
Fray had long believed that the animosity between Erma and Isabel stemmed from an incident years ago.
Despite sensing an underlying issue, he often dismissed it as mere imagination. However, a single line from the novel deepened his suspicions:
"Erma Dalma, at 22 years old, succumbed to a mysterious power, causing a massacre in three cities before being eliminated by the leader of the Guardians team."
As Erma and Isabel walked away, Fray pondered the novel's contents, his gaze fixed on the nervous figure of Isabel trailing behind Erma.
Fray's contemplation was cut short by the soft approach of two servants, their movements smooth and practiced. They halted a few steps away, bowing respectfully with the synchronicity of well-trained attendants.
"Sir, welcome back. Do you require any assistance?" one asked, their voices carrying the polished cadence of those accustomed to serving nobility.
Fray shifted his gaze toward them, his tone cool and composed. "Yes. I have urgent information for the head of the family."
The servants straightened slightly, attentive.
"There is a vampiric enclave," Fray continued, "on the outskirts of Iskar City. They're preying on humans."
One of the servants tilted his head slightly, cautious yet dutiful. "Would you be able to provide the exact location, sir?"
Fray's expression remained unreadable. "No. Relay the message exactly as I've stated it. That will be enough."
The servant bowed again, accepting the instruction without question. "Understood, sir."
As Fray looked at the servant walking away, his thoughts shifted to another objective.
After addressing Elisa, it's time to convince the second person, he ruminated. Turning to the remaining servant, Fray said, "I'm hungry."
Two hours later...
Seated at a polished table, Fray indulged in a meal meticulously prepared by attentive hands. The room exuded a hushed ambience, and a dedicated servant stood poised, ready to fulfill Fray's every need.
Knock! Knock!
A sudden rap at the door disrupted the tranquil atmosphere. Granting permission, Fray's gaze shifted toward the entrance, anticipating the arrival of an expected visitor.
In stepped a young man with a shock of fiery red hair framing his face. His eyes, almost closed in perpetual mirth, exuded a contagious optimism. His tall stature and a distinctive pendant hanging from a leather cord around his neck added to his unique charm.
"Hey, sir!" the young man greeted with a wide, infectious smile. "I was sent over regarding the vampiric enclave matter. Mind if we chat about it?"
Fray nodded affirmatively. He turned to the servant behind him and instructed, "Leave us." The servant, swift in response, made a discreet exit.
"Take a seat," Fray gestured to a vacant chair, inviting the young man to join him at the table.
"So, where's this nest, and how many of those bloodsuckers are we talking about?" the young man asked, his gestures mirroring the animation in his voice.
Fray, however, opted to sidestep the immediate answers. "We'll get to that shortly," he said, his fingers lightly tapping the surface of the table. "But first, there's something else I wish to discuss with you."
The young man's brows furrowed in confusion, and he questioned the unusual summons. "Why would the master want to talk to a mere servant like me?"
Fray's confidence radiated as he revealed his proposition. "I want you to join me on my journey for the throne."
The young man's once radiant smile froze, replaced by a serious gaze as skepticism crept into his expression. "Do you even know who I am?" he queried, a subtle tension underscoring his words.
With unyielding assurance, Fray nodded. "Casper. 22 years old. Your family fell victim to goblins, and you were brought into the Dalma family by Norman. Now, due to your exceptional talent, you've risen to the ranks of elite servants in your twenties."
Casper's surprise manifested in widened eyes and a slackened jaw. "How do you know all this? Information about the elite servant unit is supposed to be top secret, even among the family's successors."
The Dalma family is renowned for its formidable Elite Knight Unit, comprising the most powerful knights within the family's ranks. However, unbeknownst to the public, an even more covert force exists within the Dalma hierarchy—the Head's Handpicked. This select unit, meticulously chosen by the family patriarch, remains shrouded in secrecy.
Comprising fewer than a hundred elite servants, their existence is a tightly guarded secret, known only to the family council. Tasked with handling classified missions and undertaking confidential administrative responsibilities crucial to the Dalma family's vast territory, these shadow operatives operate beyond the public eye, ensuring the family's interests are protected from unseen threats.
Fray's eyes, holding an intensity that hinted at deeper knowledge, met Casper's gaze. He nodded slowly. "I know a lot more than that."
Casper's eyebrows furrowed, a mix of suspicion and realization dawning on his face. "So, you know I'm in charge of dealing with inhumane creatures. That's why you fed me that information—to bring me here."
Fray leaned back, acknowledging Casper's deduction. "Yes. I know the family head doesn't typically handle such situations. It usually goes straight to the Elite Servant Unit."
A subtle smile played on Casper's lips, a twisted look in his eyes. "So, you want me to work for you."
Fray's response was concise. "Yes."
Casper's expression transformed into a sinister grin, a crazed glint in his eyes. "You know, if anyone other than a direct family member had uttered those words, I'd kill them."
Fray, unflinching, drew a small rare smile. "I'll give you permission to kill me."
A sudden shift in Casper's demeanor revealed a twisted smile on his lips. "What?"
Fray, undeterred, laid out the terms. "A duel between us. If I win, you'll join me. If I lose, I'll permit you to end my life."
Casper's grin took on an even more twisted shape, and a spark of excitement illuminated his eyes as he asked, "Are you certain?"