Sirzechs did not merely want a servant; he desired a bulwark of honor. He visualized a man who embodied restrained strength and timeless elegance. The creation process was his most intense yet, consuming a vast amount of magicules to imbue the creature not only with power but with an unbreakable code of ethics.
Crimson light pulsed rhythmically, and from the condensed shadows, an imposing figure materialized. He was an elderly man who exuded terrifying physical vitality. He had short, impeccably white hair and a beard, facial features that mixed kindness with absolute severity, and brown eyes that seemed to see through any lie. He wore a black three-piece suit, tailored with a precision that would make Genevieve weep with envy.
«Notice. Singular Unit creation complete.» «Race: Homo-Hollow (Ancestral Variant)... Success.» «Naming: Sebastian...» «Error. Name in use by the Royal Maestro. Suggesting variant...» «Naming: Valerius... Confirmed.» «Skill Acquired: [Mental Palace / Iron Hands]. Profession: Royal Butler and Head of the House of Gremory.»
Valerius opened his eyes, and instead of the common bone mark, he possessed thin white plates protecting his joints and collar, like armor hidden beneath the fabric. He did not kneel with the haste of a subject; instead, he gave a slow, deep bow, every movement exuding the etiquette Sirzechs so prized.
"Lord Sirzechs," his voice was a deep, comforting baritone, "the ashes of the past have been swept away. I am here to ensure your journey is free of inconveniences, be they a speck of dust or the insolence of an enemy army."
Valerius's arrival was the only event capable of momentarily unsettling Grayfia's composure. When she entered the study to deliver the daily reports, she found Sirzechs' tea already served at the exact temperature of 78°C and the office organized in a way that challenged her own logic of efficiency. Valerius greeted her with a respectful nod.
"Lady Grayfia, I took the liberty of organizing the Master's audience schedule. I noticed your Excellency was overwhelmed with the trivial details of his personal comfort. Allow me to tend to the Lord's well-being while you tend to the destiny of the nation."
The tension between the two was palpable for an instant, but Valerius was unshakeable in his courtesy. Even Dietrich, the Iron Marshal, soon realized Valerius was no ordinary butler; in a brief encounter in the courtyard, the Marshal felt the old man could disarm him with a single movement before Dietrich could even draw his halberd.
Valerius brought a new standard of excellence to Avalon. While Marshal Dietrich focused on tactical discipline, the Royal Butler saw gaps in the individual capabilities of the soldiers. To Valerius, a guard who could not immobilize an aggressor without wrinkling their own uniform was unworthy of serving Lord Sirzechs.
With the Sovereign's permission, he initiated the "Iron Palm Elite Training," selecting the ten best soldiers from Dietrich's ranks for a routine that bordered on the impossible. In the marble courtyard, Valerius moved among the Praetorians like a white shadow. "Brute force is a waste of energy, gentlemen," he would say, toppling a guard three times younger than him with a flick of his wrist. "True elegance lies in the efficiency of movement. One strike, one end. And please, keep your spine straight; poor posture is an insult to the Master."
While the elite was being forged, Sirzechs observed Avalon's census presented by Grayfia. The imbalance was evident: with two hundred guards and only one hundred and thirty civilians, the city felt more like a barracks than a capital. Avalon needed a soul—hands that held tools, brushes, and merchandise rather than just swords.
Sirzechs decided it was time for the largest demographic expansion yet. Using his accumulated magicule reserves, he summoned the Fourth Generation of Hollows. In a manifestation that lit the sky with a persistent crimson glow, five hundred new Hollows were created. This time, however, Sirzechs imbued them with specific inclinations for the civilian sector.
«Notice. Civilian Class creation (500 units) complete.» «Racial adjustment: Homo-Hollow (Civilian Variant)... Success.» «Trade Skills activated: [Vernacular Architecture], [Market Management], [Liberal Arts].»
The arrival of this multitude transformed Avalon into a hive of construction and culture. Benedict Village expanded into a vibrant city with streets dedicated to luxury trade and art workshops. Benedict, returning from Tempest, suddenly found himself the patriarch of a guild of bakers. Genevieve saw her small tailor shop become a Ministry of Fashion with dozens of assistants.
Grayfia, though overwhelmed by five hundred new citizenship registrations, felt a rare satisfaction. Avalon now possessed a solid base to sustain its internal economy. Sirzechs, watching from the balcony with Valerius at his side serving a perfect coffee, felt the foundation of his empire was finally complete.
The Jura chessboard now had a heavyweight player—one that was not just a military force, but a cultural and economic center that was beginning to draw eyes from every corner of the forest.
Author's Note:
Avalon is no longer a village; it's a city of 830 citizens! With Valerius managing the household and 500 new civilians building the economy, Sirzechs has officially created a 'Mini-Europe' in the middle of a monster forest. But more people means more eyes—and more trouble.