Persona : The Phantom Duke

The morning sun had barely risen, casting a soft golden hue over the Duchy of Ravengard. The rain had finally ceased, leaving behind a cold breeze that swept through the land, carrying the scent of damp earth. Within the grand yet desolate manor of the Duchy, Kaisel de Ravengard sat in his office, absorbed in a stack of documents.

The office was tastefully furnished—a large wooden desk covered with neatly arranged papers stood at its center, accompanied by an ornate red-clothed chair where Kaisel sat. In front of the desk, two crimson-colored couches faced each other, forming a comfortable seating arrangement. To the left, a fireplace crackled softly, its warmth combating the lingering chill in the air. Above the mantle, a few decorative items were displayed—a ship in a bottle and a small ornamental dagger, both mere embellishments rather than artifacts of any significance.

A sudden tapping at the glass window broke the silence. Kaisel's gaze shifted toward the sound. A raven, its feathers an abyssal black and its eyes a haunting blood-red, perched outside. It was larger than an ordinary raven—an imposing sight. Kaisel's lips curved into a knowing smile.

"So, they have arrived... haven't they, Ragnar?" he mused, his voice smooth and composed.

The raven let out a sharp cry in response.

Kaisel chuckled softly. "Then I shall greet them myself. Since they are to accompany us on our journey, it would be rude not to, wouldn't it?"

Ragnar cawed once more as if affirming his words. Rising from his seat, Kaisel exited the office and stepped into the dimly lit hallway. There, he encountered his younger brother, Anton de Ravengard.

Anton, two years younger than him, bore a striking contrast to Kaisel. While Kaisel had long, raven-black hair and a tanned complexion, Anton's hair was a pristine silver, neatly tied back. His heterochromatic eyes—one red like a ruby, the other green like an emerald like his mother's—gleamed with curiosity. He wore a white long-sleeved shirt, tailored blue trousers, and polished leather shoes. A platinum earring adorned his left ear, while silver-framed spectacles rested on the bridge of his nose.

"Brother, where are you going?" Anton inquired, his voice measured yet laced with curiosity.

"To meet our knights," Kaisel replied smoothly.

Anton's brow furrowed. "Our knights? But we have none…"

Kaisel's lips curled into an enigmatic smile. "We will… in a moment."

Anton stood frozen in the hallway, confusion evident in his expression as Kaisel strode past him. Outside the manor, a black steed awaited its master. Kaisel mounted the horse with effortless grace and rode toward the gathered vassals.

At the forefront stood a middle-aged man with graying hair and a neatly trimmed beard—Greg, the mayor of the Duchy, and the leader of the vassals. He stepped forward, his voice filled with concern.

"My lord, if I may ask… for what reason have you left the manor?"

Kaisel exhaled lightly. "Ah, Greg. Nothing of great importance. I merely wish to greet some expected arrivals."

Greg furrowed his brows. "If guests are visiting, should you not be within the manor to receive them, my lord?"

"They are not guests," Kaisel corrected, his tone unwavering. "The ones I await shall be the new knights of Ravengard."

A wave of confusion rippled through the gathered vassals. Murmurs spread among them as they exchanged uncertain glances. One of them nudged Jacob, the mercenary captain, and whispered, "Oi… is the lord talking about you lot?"

Jacob scoffed. " I Doubt it. Nobody even knew we were comin' here."

Suddenly, a familiar flutter of wings signaled Ragnar's arrival. The raven perched on Kaisel's shoulder and let out a sharp cry. Kaisel smiled faintly.

"They are here," he announced.

The distant sound of galloping horses soon filled the air. From the entrance of the Duchy, several vassals turned their heads and gasped. A procession of riders in black cloaks emerged, their steeds thundering down the path. Weapons gleamed at their sides, and carriages laden with supplies trailed behind them. At the forefront rode a figure on a white horse—his presence exuding authority.

As the cavalry approached, they slowed their pace. The leader of the group dismounted first, followed swiftly by the rest. Striding toward Kaisel, the man reached for his mask and pulled it down, revealing a face framed by dark green hair streaked with gray. Though similar in age to Kaisel, his physique was well-honed, a testament to his years of training. A sword rested at his hip.

Then, in unison, the riders knelt on one knee, bowing their heads in reverence.

"The Ravengard Knight Order greets our Duke!" they declared in resounding voices.

A stunned silence followed. The vassals, mercenaries, and onlookers gawked in disbelief, their expressions frozen between shock and admiration. The sight of these disciplined warriors, swearing loyalty to Kaisel, was something none had anticipated.

A satisfied smirk graced Kaisel's lips. He turned toward his vassals and, with a voice that carried unwavering confidence and pride, proclaimed, "My vassals, behold—our new Ravengard Knight Order."

Gradually, the disbelief on the vassals' faces melted into something else—hope. Joy swelled within them, and as if ignited by an unspoken force, they erupted in fervent chants.

"The Ravens are invincible!"

Again, their voices rang through the air. "The Ravens are invincible!"

Kaisel's gaze shifted back to the leader of the knights. His smirk softened into something more familiar.

"Long time no see, Ezra."

Ezra met his gaze and smirked in return, a glint of arrogance in his eyes. Around them, the newly formed knight order mirrored his expressio

n.

Its been a while.. My lord.The Ravens has arrived at Ravengard.