A few minutes had passed as Arius stood quietly, waiting for the call to meet the Patriarch.
The door finally opened, and an old man in a suit approached him. He was the butler of House Korvis.
"The Patriarch is ready to see you," he said gently, softly opening the door for Arius.
Arius stepped into the Patriarch's office with a faint smile on his face. Behind him, the butler quietly closed the door.
He walked forward slowly, careful not to make a sound, until he reached the Patriarch's desk. The Patriarch was already seated there, waiting for him.
Lowering his head in respect, Arius stood before him.
"So, you finally have an answer," came the Patriarch's voice—gentle, yet carrying a commanding tone that revealed both patience and authority.
"Yes, I am here to explain everything that happened this morning," Arius replied in a soft tone.
Roman Von Korvis, the Patriarch of House Korvis and the oldest member of the family, was an egoistic man with great intelligence. There was no one who dared oppose him, and at times, it was difficult to discern his true intentions in any given situation.
In Arius's eyes, he was a completely evil man. Yet, the only reason Arius held such authority within the house was because of Roman.
"Well… it was because of my training at midnight. I pushed myself too far, trying to advance my second trait before entering the labyrinth," Arius offered as a reasonable answer.
"Are you certain about that?" Roman finally spoke, his voice devoid of emotion—neither concern nor interest could be found in his tone.
Arius offered a quick smile to seal his answer. It was nothing more than a simple explanation, yet it was all he was willing to give.
For Roman, who had occupied the Patriarch's chair for three and a half decades, such cases were hardly unusual. But when they involved Arius, they carried a different weight. Still, Roman was never a man to reveal his true intentions—or any trace of emotion—to anyone.
"It's not a panic attack, is it?"
…Panic attack… why bring that up? Arius hesitated at the thought. He was certain it wasn't that.
"No, it's not. It happened only because of overtraining and neglecting my diet," he replied.
Panic attacks were something tied to Arius since childhood. He never truly understood what happened when they struck—each one felt like a sudden stroke, episodes that often plagued him during his early years.
Arius could no longer even remember what those panic attacks—or strokes—had truly felt like. It was as if he had forgotten them entirely, just as he had forgotten so many other things from his past. His memories were fragmented, incomplete. Even the image of his father—his appearance, his face, his voice—had been lost to him because of those attacks.
He had never tried to recall them, knowing it was impossible for someone who had endured such episodes. And besides, the years had long since passed. The last attack had struck when he was eleven—seven years ago, exactly.
Silence filled the Patriarch's office. Arius stood deep in thought, slowly shifting his attention toward the Patriarch.
Roman sat quietly in his chair, observing him, waiting for a response before choosing to speak.
"Forgotten memories… they weaken a man," Roman finally said, his tone still devoid of warmth. "And yet, sometimes, forgetting is what allows one to move forward."
Arius remained silent, still lost in his thoughts, carefully weighing the situation. He needed to speak cautiously—one mistake could cost him dearly.
"I have one more request," Arius said, eager to shift the topic of discussion.
"What is it?"
"Well… can I join the Imperial Avalar Academy? I rejected the idea in the past, but now I've decided to pursue it."
"Certainly. It's possible for you to join the academy," Roman replied in a soft, emotionless tone.
Silence hung in the air for a few seconds before Roman spoke again.
"If you wish to join now, I can make the arrangements."
Arius had been waiting for this answer. He knew Roman would not refuse him such a request—or consider it too demanding.
"Can it be arranged after the labyrinth raid?" Arius asked, making his demand clear.
"Very well… anything else?" Roman replied heavily, as though reluctantly agreeing.
"Nothing else. I have nothing more to say."
"Then you may leave, if that is all.
Arius bowed his head and turned to leave the office.
"Don't you think it's problematic to send him into the labyrinth with the others, sir?" the butler finally spoke after Arius had left the room.
Roman gave no reply, though it was clear he was listening to Magnus.
"In my opinion, if the episodes were to start again, it would be dangerous for the others to remain with the young master," Magnus continued, sharing his thoughts with Roman.
Roman listened carefully to everything his butler, Magnus, had to say before finally speaking. "I don't believe that was an episode. It was something else—or perhaps, as Arius claimed, merely the result of excessive training."
Roman rose from his seat and began pacing across the room.
That boy is intelligent and mature enough to offer a simple explanation for the situation, he thought. In Roman's eyes, Arius knew exactly what he was doing—and he would trust him, at least until that trust was broken.
"You know, sometimes that boy reminds me of his father," Roman said in a gentle tone, as if speaking only to himself. "But unlike his father, he carries a harsher, more mature self."
"Well, it's certainly true, my lord. He does have some traits like…" Magnus stopped himself just before uttering the name of Arius's father. "I… I apologize for my mistake."
He glanced at Roman, though Magnus was certain he had already committed a grave error. In House Korvis, there were rules—strict ones—and among them was the command never to speak the name of Arius's father. Magnus had nearly broken that rule, and the weight of it pressed heavily upon him.
"You know, I fear that someday he will come to my door to take revenge for what I've done," Roman said, his heavy voice carrying no emotion. He knew that one day the time would come when he would have to give an explanation for his choices.
"I am a very greedy man… perhaps I would have been happier with a son like him, rather than a grandson," Roman thought to himself. "Maybe he would be able to bear the weight I have carried on my shoulders for decades."
His mind drifted to the past—how he had endured the crushing burden of both a father's legacy and the mantle of Patriarch, a weight he had never been able to set down.
Still, Roman held no regrets for the past—for what he had done, or for what he believed he needed to do. He was a man who chose to live in the present.
"Magnus, you should go and begin arranging what Arius requested," Roman ordered his butler.
"Yes, my lord," Magnus replied, bowing his head before leaving the office.
Now, only Roman remained in the room. The office was quiet and dimly lit, its shelves lined with books, the atmosphere heavy and shadowed—like the man who ruled within it.
Roman sat back in his chair, his thoughts turning toward Arius's future. In House Korvis, the time was fast approaching when he would have to decide on the next Patriarch.
Arius was, in many ways, the perfect candidate. Mature, intelligent, and tempered by having already faced death more than once, he possessed the qualities required of a leader. Yet the most difficult part lay not in Arius's strength or wisdom—but in the choices he would make.