Emily's breath caught. That tone… She had never heard it before. Not when he faced Prince Kael with unyielding defiance, not when nobles groveled before him, not even when he laughed with his siblings.
It wasn't authority. It wasn't arrogance. It was something far more dangerous.
Affection… Emily realized with a pang. He's speaking as if… as if he cares.
Her stomach twisted. She stepped forward instinctively, placing herself half a step in front of Asher, as if to shield him. Her gaze flicked sharply, narrowing. Who is she, to make him falter like this?
The girl lifted her head slowly, the moonlight softening the sorrow carved into her face. She was beautiful, yes, but not with the brilliance of a rose blooming in full—it was the fragile beauty of a wildflower clinging to life between cracks of stone. Her posture carried grace, yet there was a hesitation in it, the kind born not of shyness but of years being told she did not belong.
"My name is Seraphina Hale," she said, lowering herself into a bow. Her voice was soft, humble—too careful for someone of noble blood.
"From the borderlands," Emily muttered.
"What brings you here alone in the garden?" Asher asked, his eyes lifted toward the moon.
"I like places with fewer people," Seraphina replied, quietly joining him in his view.
"What's the person who shook the whole kingdom doing here?" she asked curiously.
"You brought me here," Asher said with soft eyes. "Like a flower that attracts a butterfly."
Emily's lips parted in shock. The one who was cold and harsh to others spoke with such warmth, such tenderness—it was as though she were seeing another man entirely. She was about to say something, but Asher lifted his hand without looking at her, silently telling her not to disturb him. His gaze was fixed on Seraphina, as if her eyes held mysteries he could not look away from.
"Is there something in my eyes, young lord?" Seraphina asked, shy and blushing.
"It's Asher. Call me Asher, not young lord." His voice softened.
Emily's eyes widened to the point they could pop out. She was speechless, shaken to her core by this unfamiliar side of him.
"Your eyes remind me of the dark and peaceful nights," Asher said, without hesitation.
"T-thank you," Seraphina whispered, her cheeks burning red.
"Young master, the kids are waiting for you," Emily finally managed to say, breaking her silence.
"Why don't you join us, Seraphina?" Asher asked with a bright smile.
"Will it be alright?" she asked uncertainly.
"It's alright. Don't worry," Asher reassured.
The three of them walked toward the training hall, where Sean, Nora, and Hans were already waiting.
"Welcome, young master. We've gathered the ones you asked for," Sean reported.
"Good job," Asher praised, his eyes briefly glancing at Seraphina.
Nora and Sean exchanged confused glances when they noticed her.
"What are you doing here, Sera?" Nora asked.
"I just followed Asher here," Seraphina said, her tone light, almost innocent.
The words struck the room like a stone cast into still water.
Silence fell. For a heartbeat, no one moved, no one breathed. Then the murmurs began, hushed but sharp, spreading like wildfire through the gathered children.
"She… she called him Asher?"
"Didn't even say young master…"
"Does she not know who he is?"
"Or… is she just that bold?"
Sean's jaw dropped, his face paling. He stepped forward quickly, his voice tense. "Hey, you shouldn't call the young master that, you know!" His tone wasn't scolding so much as fearful—fearful of what Asher might do to someone so reckless.
Nora's hands clenched at her sides as she looked at Seraphina, her heart hammering. She knew her friend—she wasn't reckless, not at all. Seraphina had always been careful, always cautious with her words. And yet… here she was, speaking his name as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
"Apologize to him, Sera," Nora urged quickly, trying to shield her friend from whatever punishment might come.
But before Seraphina could even lower her head, a sharp, cutting voice silenced the hall.
"It's alright," Asher said.
Everyone froze.
"I told her to call me that."
The words weren't loud, but they carried weight—an authority that pressed down heavier than any shouted command. The children who had been whispering fell instantly silent, as though his aura itself had smothered their voices.
Sean's mouth snapped shut. Nora's eyes widened in disbelief. Even Hans, normally composed, found himself blinking at the sheer absurdity of what he had just heard.
Emily, standing nearby, felt her entire body tense. What is going on? she thought, watching the two of them. She had never heard him give anyone that permission—not even his siblings.
And Seraphina… Seraphina lowered her gaze, her cheeks tinged pink. She hadn't meant for it to slip out so naturally, hadn't thought about what it meant. But when Asher defended her—when he made her boldness into something permitted—her chest tightened with something she couldn't name.
Around her, the air was thick with confusion, disbelief, and quiet envy. But beside her, Asher's presence was steady, unshaken. He had made it clear with one line:
Seraphina was different.
---
The training began. Asher called out a boy—Ken Grey—and handed him a wooden sword, testing his strategy on the map of two armies drawn into the dirt. In minutes, the boy had broken the imperial family's prized formation.
Shock rippled through the group.
"You all focus too much on strength and mana," Asher said, his voice carrying across the hall. "But I saw it. Each of you has mental talent that surpasses SS rank."
The children's eyes lit up, glowing with pride.
"So will you follow me to become the greatest… or will you fall here?"
"We will follow you!" they shouted in unison, bowing deeply.
Asher's smirk widened. Rough stones… but gems nonetheless.
"That's all for today. Training starts tomorrow. You are free to go."
One by one, they left until only Seraphina, Emily, and Hans remained.
Asher spoke softly with Seraphina, his smile lingering, when footsteps echoed down the hall. Rose entered with her maid, her gaze narrowing at the sight before her.
"I pay respects to the Young Dragon," Rose said sweetly, bowing.
"I pay respects to the young lady," Seraphina replied politely.
"Good evening, young lady," Emily and Hans echoed.
Asher's tone was flat. "What brings you here?"
"I wanted to congratulate you. I didn't get the chance in the great hall," Rose said, forcing a smile.
"I see. You can go now—I'm busy entertaining a guest."
Her cheeks flushed crimson. "So you choose some low-class noble over me?"
"Watch your mouth, Rose." His voice dropped, dark and warning.
But she ignored him, rage clouding her judgment. She stepped forward and slapped Seraphina across the face.
"You dare.."
The ground did not simply shudder—it cracked. Fine lines split across the marble floor, spreading like the veins of a spiderweb beneath Asher's feet. Dust lifted into the air, shimmering in the dim light as if the very world recognized his fury.
Emily stumbled back, her breath catching in her throat. She had seen his coldness, his ruthlessness, even his strength—but this was something beyond all of that. This was not the strength of a boy testing his limits. This was the wrath of a dragon, unrestrained and merciless.
Seraphina's cheek burned from Rose's strike, her body trembling as she lowered her head further, not daring to meet anyone's eyes. But as the crushing weight of Asher's aura spilled into the hall, she felt it shield her rather than harm her—like a storm that chose not to strike the fragile flower trembling in its path.
Rose staggered again, her pride and arrogance shriveling under the weight of that killing intent. She tried to lift her chin, to cling to the superiority of her bloodline, but her knees betrayed her, shaking despite herself. The daughter of House Draker could not even take a step forward.
"Asher—!" Emily tried to call out, but her voice cracked against the pressure, barely audible. Her hands trembled as if pressing against an invisible wall of force.
Hans grit his teeth, sweat rolling down his brow. His warrior's instinct screamed at him to draw his blade, but another instinct—a far older, primal one—froze him in place. Before him was not a young master of noble birth. It was a predator. A dragon. A being to whom humanity was nothing more than fragile glass.
The nobles outside began to stir in panic. The clash of goblets dropping, the sound of feet stumbling back echoed across the hall. One knight, bold or foolish, stepped toward the training grounds, but the moment the aura hit him, blood sprayed from his nose and he collapsed to his knees.
Within the grand hall, Samael's lips curled faintly, though his eyes betrayed no amusement—only danger.
"That boy dares let loose such a storm within these walls…" His gaze darkened. "He walks the line between heir and threat."
Beside him, Aurelion's sharp eyes glittered with both admiration and calculation. His voice was low, almost reverent.
"He does not even know how to harness it yet. This is pure instinct—untamed, feral. Imagine when he learns control."
The wooden beams of the training hall creaked and groaned as if about to give way. The flame of the last surviving lantern flickered weakly before surrendering to darkness. All that remained was moonlight filtering through the shattered windows, bathing Asher in silver radiance.
His eyes glowed faintly, like embers caught in a storm, fixed on Rose with a predatory sharpness. His voice, when it came, was not loud, but it resounded with terrifying clarity.
"Touch her again… and not even your family name will save you."
Rose's face drained of color. She opened her mouth to retort, to cling to pride, but the words died before they could form. Her throat constricted as if invisible claws had wrapped around it.
Emily, clutching her chest, whispered under her breath, trembling.
"He's… he's losing control."
But Seraphina, still trembling, raised her head slightly despite her fear. Her lips parted, soft and shaky.
"Asher…"
At that single word, his aura faltered, flickering like a flame struggling against the wind. His gaze snapped to her, and for the briefest of moments, warmth cut through the storm.
The earth beneath them stilled. The pressure in the air lightened, though it lingered heavy enough to remind everyone of the terror that had just swept over them.
The nobles outside did not dare breathe loudly. Rose dared not move a muscle. And Emily—Emily realized with a chill—Seraphina Hale had done in a single word what no noble, no knight, no authority had ever achieved.
She had tamed the dragon's fury.