World of Terror

I spent the rest of the morning in the old room, immersed in a book filled with maps, sketches, and notes. Each page pulled me further into its intricate details, making time slip away unnoticed, the quiet rustling of pages becoming the only sound I heard.

The maid's voice echoed through the hallways, breaking my concentration. Reluctantly, I closed the book and set it aside, taking a moment to stretch my stiff limbs before heading to the dining room.

As I approached, the comforting aroma of roasting vegetables and fresh bread wafted through the air, a welcoming prelude to the meal that awaited.

Mother and Belle were already seated at the neatly arranged table. A steaming bowl of soup sat before each of them, accompanied by a crusty loaf of bread and a plate of crisp greens. Sliding into the chair across from Belle, I caught her mischievous grin as she looked up at me, her bright eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Dinner smells great," I said, reaching for a slice of bread still warm from the oven.

Mother looked up from her soup just then. She seemed more tired than usual; her cheeks were pale, and shadows lingered beneath her eyes. Concerned, I asked, "Are you all right, Mother? You look tired."

She managed a faint smile. "I'm fine. We were just busy this morning. Nothing for you to worry about."

"I told you, I could help," I said, leaning forward earnestly.

Mother shook her head gently. "No, you can't. Besides, Belle's helping me."

Belle chimed in, her mouth full of food, "It's a surprise! You're going to like it!" She giggled, her pride evident in her bright, mischievous eyes.

Before I could retort further, Mother added, "By the way, you're coming with us to Lulu's School."

"Do I have to?" I groaned, already dreading the idea.

Mother's eyes lit up. "Of course. It was your idea, remember? You said you wanted to help more children learn."

"Yeah, go make some friends, you weirdo," Isabelle teased with a mouthful of food.

"Shut up," I muttered, rolling my eyes. With a sigh, I added, "Fine, just let me know when."

Mother beamed. "Perfect."

She was talking about one of the ideas I had suggested, which meant she would probably approve of using the old room.

Most families couldn't afford academy tuition, leaving many children without an education. That's why I proposed creating a school, more like a Sunday school, to give more children a chance to learn basic subjects and eventually contribute to society. Turning an abandoned building into a classroom seemed like a simple but meaningful way to help.

As our conversation shifted, Mother glanced toward the window. "I heard you met our guests today," she said.

I nodded, swallowing another spoonful of soup. "Yeah. They're from the Red Corps."

Belle's eyes brightened. "They're strong. Did you see how they looked?"

I smiled. "I did. I hope they sort everything out quickly so Father can attend tomorrow."

Mother's brow furrowed. "Yeah, I also hope so." There was a flicker of worry in her eyes that she quickly tried to hide.

Belle sat up straighter, pride shining in her features. "Don't worry! Father is superhuman. He'll be fine."

We continued chatting as we finished our meal. The warmth of their company lingered even as they departed for the venue, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Even here, surrounded by love and simple comforts, something inside me remained unsettled. The memories of my past life still clung to the edges of my mind like smoke that refused to fade. I wondered quietly, is this really where I'm meant to be?

…

That afternoon, in a dimly lit outpost just outside Linberg, Luke sat quietly at his desk. Spread before him were maps and reports, their edges curling in the flickering light of a nearby lantern. The shadows stretched long across the room, matching the furrow in his brow as he studied the information with sharp focus.

A soft hum came from the square communication device sitting on the desk. The blue stone set in its frame began to glow faintly. Then a crackling voice spoke through the device.

"My lord, we've confirmed unusual activity at three target locations. The hunters have gathered enough evidence of illegal operations. There's a strong chance these individuals belong to the Demon Faction."

His fingers hovered over a piece of parchment, eyes narrowing with calculation. He spoke with calm authority, "Order the hunters to fall back and set up a perimeter around each location. They must not engage unless they are attacked first."

"Understood," came the reply.

The device flickered again, and a new voice came through. "Lord, the Red Corps has boarded the ship with over one hundred troops, just as you ordered."

"Good. Tell me immediately if they come into contact with the pirates."

"Yes, my lord."

Leaning back in his chair, Luke reflected on the past few days. So far, out of the five target locations, three had been accurately identified, and the most important areas were now secure. The mission was proceeding well, but the challenges still weighed heavily on his mind.

Lucian's notes had been especially helpful. They impressed him with their detail and accuracy. "Almost exactly what my officers suggested," he murmured, smiling to himself. "Maybe even better."

Lucian had always been different from other children. Unlike his older sister, he never cried as a baby. Instead, he quietly watched everything with calm focus. As he grew older, he didn't make many friends. He preferred reading books and learning on his own. As a father, Luke sometimes worried about his son's solitary behavior, but it was clear Lucian was far more mature than others his age.

Luke had often been criticized for turning down the Church's offer of power. He had left behind his family's legacy and influence to live a quieter life in this distant corner of the kingdom. But as a husband and a father, he had no regrets. He often wondered what his son might become and what kind of future awaited him.

"Perhaps a blessed child," he whispered to himself, lost in thought.

A knock at the door pulled him back to the present. Tyrion, his trusted lieutenant, stepped inside. "My lord, the troops are ready. Three hundred knights stand prepared and await your command."

Luke handed him a bundle of papers. "Give these plans to the officers. Make sure every man understands the orders. We move soon."

Tyrion nodded sharply. "Understood."

After Tyrion left, Luke stood and walked outside, where the late afternoon sun cast a warm golden light over the outpost. The air was filled with the quiet discipline of his soldiers, standing tall and ready.

He looked over the rows of armored knights. Their serious faces reflected his own determination. As their leader, he raised his voice so all could hear.

"As you know," he said, steady and strong, "there are those who have entered our land, vermin hiding in the shadows, running illegal operations and spreading corruption. It is our duty to stop them. We serve as the sword and shield for our Mighty Sovereign."

His cold eyes scanned the crowd.

"Kill them all."

…

The following afternoon, I dressed in the formal attire my mother had chosen. The fabric was smooth but stiff, and the collar felt uncomfortably tight around my neck. I fidgeted with it, sighing, as servants moved around the house, finishing preparations. Outside, a few guards stood near the carriage, waiting to escort me.

As I walked to the entrance, the staff bowed slightly in acknowledgment. The carriage stood ready, its surface gleaming faintly under the sun. The horses shifted restlessly, their hooves scraping lightly against the stone. A servant opened the door, and I took a steadying breath before stepping inside.

The ride was quiet, the gentle sound of the wheels on the road filling the space. When we arrived, the grand hall was already lively with people. Lanterns hung overhead, casting a warm glow over the crowd of finely dressed guests. Laughter and conversations filled the air, giving the space a vibrant energy.

Near the entrance, I spotted my mother and Isabelle. Mother wore a dark green gown, simple yet elegant, while Isabelle's lavender dress matched her bright and playful demeanor. They turned to greet me as I approached.

"There you are," Mother said, adjusting the lapel of my jacket. "You're looking very handsome tonight."

"You're late," Isabelle teased, grinning as she folded her arms. "You almost missed the fun!"

"I wasn't that late," I replied, smirking. "I just needed a moment to get ready."

"Well, we're glad you made it," Mother said, her tone warm but firm. "Let's make the most of tonight."

As we walked further into the hall, Isabelle leaned closer, whispering, "Think you'll talk to anyone, or are you going to stand in the corner like always?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'll talk when I have something to say."

She laughed, nudging my shoulder. "You always have something to say to me."

Mother glanced back, smiling at us. "Enough teasing, Isabelle. Tonight's a special evening. Let's enjoy it as a family."

The three of us moved into the bustling crowd. The noise and grandeur faded slightly as I focused on the warmth of my family's presence.