Dawn arrived quietly over the Ashford estate.
The first rays of sunlight stretched across the towering black walls overlooking Elarion while cold mountain winds rolled through the upper terraces of the manor. Below the cliffs, the Red Banner City slowly awakened beneath layers of crimson mist as soldiers resumed drills across the capital streets.
Within House Ashford—
morning had already begun long before sunrise.
Because monsters did not sleep lazily.
Not in this family.
Far beneath the estate—
metal screamed against metal.
CLANG.
A shockwave burst across the underground training arena as Lucien's sword carved through the air hard enough to split the reinforced floor beneath him.
He laughed.
Actually laughed.
Sweat rolled down his arms while countless shallow cuts lined his body, several of them still bleeding openly.
Across from him stood three heavily armored Ashford knights breathing heavily beneath shattered defensive formations.
Lucien rested his sword against one shoulder.
"Again."
The knights visibly twitched.
One finally gathered enough courage to speak.
"Young master… it has been four hours."
"And?"
"…Sunrise was twenty minutes ago."
Lucien blinked.
Then shrugged.
"Sounds like a skill issue."
The knight looked spiritually exhausted.
Lucien stretched lazily before driving his sword into the ground.
"Fine. Break time."
The relief on their faces was immediate.
One of them nearly collapsed.
Lucien grinned.
"Don't look so happy. We resume after breakfast."
The relief vanished instantly.
Truly.
A war maniac.
Several floors higher—
Ceal Ashford had not slept at all.
The faint blue glow of floating magic screens illuminated his workshop while dozens of half-disassembled relics hovered throughout the room beneath precise mana threads.
Books covered nearly every available surface.
Ancient manuscripts.
records.
journals.
Mana engineering schematics.
Ceal adjusted his glasses calmly while engraving microscopic runes into a rotating silver cube floating before him.
His movements remained perfectly steady despite the fact that it was barely dawn.
One of his assistants cautiously entered the workshop carrying documents.
"Young master… breakfast preparations have begun."
Ceal hummed absentmindedly.
"Mm."
The assistant waited awkwardly.
"…Should I prepare coffee?"
Ceal paused briefly.
"…Yes."
The assistant nodded quickly before leaving.
Seconds later—
a small explosion erupted from the far side of the workshop.
Ceal glanced toward the smoking artifact.
"…thats new."
Then calmly continued writing notes.
Elsewhere within the estate—
Selene Andora Ashford stood before an enormous mirror while several attendants worked around her frantically.
"Young miss, please stand still."
"I am standing still."
"You are spinning."
Selene stopped spinning reluctantly.
Unlike the rest of the Ashfords, her room actually looked lived in.
Warm sunlight spilled across soft carpets while books, flowers, and scattered sketches decorated nearly every surface.
It felt human.
Comfortable.
Normal.
At least compared to the rest of the manor where ancient war relics casually decorated hallways.
Selene stared thoughtfully toward her reflection while one attendant carefully brushed her silver hair.
"…Do you think roso slept properly?"
The attendants exchanged glances carefully.
One answered cautiously.
"Young master seemed troubled recently."
Selene sighed softly.
"I noticed…"
Unlike Lucien or Ceal—
Selene paid attention to emotions.
Which made her strangely dangerous in an entirely different way.
She noticed changes others ignored.
And recently—
her direct older brother had changed far too much.
The attendants eventually finished preparing her hair.
Selene smiled brightly.
"Thank you!"
Then immediately rushed toward the dining hall before they could stop her from skipping breakfast etiquette entirely.
Far away from Elarion—
within the upper districts of the Imperial Palace—
Eldra Zariel Levithain Ashford opened her eyes precisely three minutes before sunrise.
The room remained silent.
Organized.
Minimal.
Unlike Lucien's chaotic training arenas or Ceal's disastrous workshops, Eldra's chambers resembled those of a military commander.
Everything possessed order.
Without speaking, she rose from bed and approached the massive window overlooking the imperial capital.
The city below remained peaceful.
For now.
Eldra stared at the horizon quietly before reaching toward the elegant rapier resting beside her desk.
The moment her fingers touched the sheath—
mana stirred faintly within the room.
Controlled.
Sharp.
She performed several silent practice strikes immediately afterward.
No wasted movement.
No dramatic flourishes.
Each thrust was clean enough to kill instantly.
Precise enough to split falling dust particles from the air.
After exactly thirty minutes—
she stopped.
Not from exhaustion.
Completion.
An imperial servant eventually knocked at the chamber door.
"Lady Eldra, the Emperor's morning escort preparations are ready."
Eldra sheathed the rapier smoothly.
"I'll be there shortly."
Then briefly—
her gaze drifted toward the massive black case resting silently within the corner of the room.
Not today.
Meanwhile—
I woke up exhausted.
Again.
Sunlight spilled across my room while distant bells echoed through the Ashford estate signaling the beginning of morning drills.
I stared blankly at the ceiling for several moments.
Then sighed deeply.
The golden lines beneath my skin flickered faintly in response.
Great.
Still alive.
I sat upright slowly while rubbing my eyes.
Sleep had become… difficult lately.
Not because of nightmares.
Because of awareness.
Every time I closed my eyes, I felt the mana around me too clearly now.
The walls.
The air.
The entire estate pulsed faintly with energy.
And somewhere beneath all of it—
the Bloodline Pool still called to me.
Like distant thunder beneath the earth.
I hated that comparison because it implied I was starting to get used to it.
A knock sounded at the door.
"My lord," Balthas spoke calmly from outside. "Breakfast preparations are complete."
Of course they were.
Ashford timing bordered on supernatural.
"I'll be there shortly."
I rose from bed slowly before walking toward the mirror near the far wall.
And paused.
The reflection staring back at me looked normal.
Mostly.
But my eyes…
The gold within them seemed brighter now.
Sharper.
Almost draconic beneath certain angles of light.
I stared silently for a moment before muttering:
"…Hopefully breakfast doesn't become life-threatening today."
Honestly?
With this family?
That felt optimistic.
The grand dining hall of House Ashford was already active by the time I arrived.
Massive windows overlooked the cliffs surrounding Elarion while a long black table stretched across the center of the chamber beneath elegant chandeliers glowing with warm mana light.
Father sat near the head of the table reading documents silently.
Lucien was aggressively bullying the kitchen staff into increasing his portion size.
Ceal looked half-conscious while drinking coffee strong enough to probably dissolve steel.
Selene waved enthusiastically the moment she noticed me entering.
For a brief moment—
it almost felt like a normal family breakfast.
Then Lucien spoke.
"So," he said cheerfully while cutting into his food, "what are the chances Astaroso mutates during the Bloodline ritual?"
And just like that—
the Ashford atmosphere returned completely.