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Chapter 1
“My fever seems to have become quite the convenient excuse.”
Sunlight streaming through the window spilled over platinum hair, glinting softly. At the end of that steady gaze, the boy’s blue eyes grew stubbornly deep.
He was the only heir of the Este Marquisate—Lunadeluze Este.
“Why is it that I, of all people, am told I need convalescence?”
From his breast pocket, Lun pulled out a crimson envelope and held it out to the Marquis. It was the admission letter to Lepium Academy, sent to him only a few days ago.
At the bottom, in his father’s sharp handwriting, was a short note stating that Lun’s enrollment would be postponed due to his chronic illness.
The Marquis Este pressed his temples and frowned. He had ordered the butler to return it at first light, yet somehow, Lun had found out.
“I’ll say it again—Academy is out of the question.”
The Marquis barked sharply, glaring at his son who stood straight before him.
Lun, dressed in the white uniform of the Este knights, looked every bit the loyal young knight—if only it weren’t for those defiant eyes.
“If there’s more you want to learn, I’ll find you an appropriate tutor. Speak, and it shall be arranged.”
“But you already postponed my enrollment once. This year I’m healthy enough—”
The Marquis cut him off with a sharp clatter of his pen.
“Denied.”
His tone left no room for argument. Biting down on his lower lip, Lun lowered his eyes.
Seventeen. He was already at the age when he should have been attending the Academy.
But last year, around this very time, his fever had relapsed—and damnably so, causing him to miss the entrance season. Even though a whole year had passed, his father still treated him as a patient, fiercely opposing his enrollment.
Knock, knock. A polite knock came with the butler’s elderly voice from beyond the door.
“My lord. The carriage is ready.”
The Marquis rubbed his brow wearily and pulled out his pocket watch. If he were to arrive on time for his audience with His Majesty, he had to depart immediately.
“I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon, before our guest arrives. Stay out of trouble.”
“Wait, please—I still have something to say—!”
Ignoring his son’s plea, the Marquis swept past him coldly. Pausing at the door, he turned and spoke.
“Never forget to keep the pendant with you.”
It was the same reminder as always.
Thud. The office door shut heavily behind him.
Left alone, Lun lowered his head, rubbing the moonstone that hung from his pendant.
The blade sliced sharply through the air.
“One thousand.”
Whispering the final count, Lun sheathed his sword and straightened his back.
As soon as his father left for the capital, he had headed to the training grounds. There was nothing like exhausting his body to ease his foul mood.
Repeating drills out of habit, time had flown—it was already nearing noon.
“So, the North is already feeling summer.”
The heat bore down, his breath quick and heavy. Early summer sunlight made even the morning air stiflingly hot.
“Greetings, Young Master Lun.”
At the respectful voice, Lun wiped sweat from his chin and looked up.
A middle-aged knight with graying hair approached and bowed. It was Humphrey Rovere, captain of the Este Knights. Stroking his short beard, he gave a look that suggested he already guessed the situation.
“You’ve been training alone every dawn. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you here at this hour.”
“Ah, I had to meet Father early this morning.”
Lun waved dismissively, clearly not wishing to talk about it. Humphrey only smiled wryly and shrugged.
“So, another quarrel with the Marquis?”
Indeed—many in the castle, Humphrey included, had witnessed the young master snatching a letter from the butler and storming to the office that morning.
A crimson envelope arriving at this time of year could only be the Academy’s admission notice. And it was plain as day that the Marquis had refused.
“You don’t need the Academy. You’ve already been granted the title of Knight Banneret by your lord. You are a true knight, no matter what anyone says.”
Nobles who maintained a knightly order officially recognized by the Imperial Family had the authority to bestow knighthood themselves.
For the heir of a knightly house, receiving at least the rank of Banneret was nothing unusual. Though with the strict nature of Marquis Este, even that much had not come easily for Lun.
“Even if you had no title, we would still follow you, young master.”
“I don’t want to be a master to the White Knights in name only.”
Lun’s firm reply made Humphrey scratch his nose awkwardly.
“You know it, don’t you? I will become a Master Knight. A knight greater than Father himself. You’ll see—I will enter the Academy, no matter what it takes.”
Humphrey chuckled at his young lord’s determined ambition. When had he grown so much?
“Truly, that stubbornness—you must have inherited it from your father.”
“Don’t joke about something so awful.”
Lun grimaced, glaring at him. Resemble his father? The very thought made him sick.
“If he ever heard that, his face would be worth seeing.”
Most likely, the Marquis would recoil in horror.
Just then—
“Piiiii—!”
A piercing cry cut through the air above.
Lun squinted against the blazing sun, shading his eyes with his hand. A massive bird circled the sky over the training yard.
“An eagle…?”
At Lun’s curious murmur, Humphrey groaned and clutched his forehead.
“That’s the messenger bird I sent off at dawn. It must have devoured half a dozen chickens as soon as it arrived.”
“A messenger bird? Then it must be from the guest arriving tomorrow?”
“Yes. The Marquis told you then? A message came saying they’d arrive tomorrow afternoon.”
The eagle lowered its altitude, circling lazily around the yard before flapping down onto a practice log. Its enormous gray wings stretched nearly three feet wide—unmistakably a Harpy Eagle, the largest of its kind.
“This is a Harpy Eagle! Who in the world uses one as a messenger bird?”
Messenger birds were usually pigeons or crows. Lun’s eyes widened with admiration. Humphrey only shrugged.
“If it flew from the western desert, only a Harpy Eagle could make the journey.”
“Gu-ruuk?”
The eagle tilted its head, jet-black eyes gleaming as if it understood them.
“A guest from the desert, then.”
Lun smiled faintly, stepping closer. The great crest atop the eagle’s head perked up like a crown. Truly a magnificent bird—it made him wonder who its master was.
“Handsome fellow.”
“Piii—!”
The eagle cried again, spreading its wings as if pleased with the compliment.
“Young master! Be careful—it might bite—!”
Humphrey rushed forward, pale with fear. But his words caught in his throat.
“Groook. Grooorook.”
The eagle cooed in delight, rubbing its beak against Lun’s hand as the boy scratched gently under its neck.
Heavens above. Humphrey pressed his brow, dumbfounded.
This was a beast said to crush lynx skulls with a single snap of its beak—yet here it was, purring like a docile chick.
“Sigh… I sent it off before dawn. Why in the world did it come back?”
“Well, it doesn’t seem hungry… maybe it already met its master?”
“Impossible. Even this bird couldn’t make the round trip. From the Remoire Desert to Este lands is at least three days on horseback.”
At that moment, the eagle suddenly launched into the air.
“Ah—damn it!”
With its powerful wingbeats, the black tether on its ankle slipped free, fluttering down. Lun caught it swiftly—and his eyes widened.
A black wolf.
Embroidered clearly on the strap was the emblem no imperial subject could fail to know: the crest of the Duke of Hereis.
A messenger from House Hereis—sent from the desert.
Lun turned sharply to Humphrey, realization dawning.
“Don’t tell me… the guest is him?”
“Ah… yes, young master. You didn’t know?”
Humphrey rubbed his neck awkwardly. Of course the Marquis had not bothered to explain in detail.
Clicking his tongue, Lun pressed his hand to his forehead.
“Hah. So that’s why Father agreed to open the gates…”
The Marquis rarely welcomed outsiders—the Este stronghold opening its gates was a rare event indeed. Lun had heard stories of his father’s camaraderie with Duke Carlo Hereis back in the days of the Imperial Knights, but…
“To think he’d extend such courtesy to the Duke’s son as well.”
The bond between the houses must run deeper than he thought.
Lun squinted toward the west, watching the eagle vanish beyond the walls.
If the bird had returned after meeting its master at dawn, that could only mean the master himself was already close by.
Clenching the black strap in his hand, Lun muttered:
“Looks like the guest will arrive sooner than expected.”
“Pardon?” Humphrey began, puzzled.
“Young master!!”
A guard galloped in from the outer wall, breathless as he dismounted.
“Th-the Dark Knights have arrived at the western gate!”
Lun narrowed his eyes, a dry laugh escaping him.
Even if they had released the eagle the moment they departed, to keep pace with it was monstrous. Such speed was fitting only of the infamous knights of House Hereis—the Dark Knights.
“…That was faster than expected.”
And of all times—when Father was away.
“What shall we do, young master?”
“What else?”
Sighing, Lun turned toward the stables.
“Prepare the horses, Humphrey.”
They couldn’t very well leave the guests waiting outside the walls until his father returned.
“We’ll have to greet our impatient visitor.”
Western Outpost of Este Territory.
The lone sentry on duty found himself in quite a predicament.
Why had the guests, expected tomorrow afternoon, already arrived today?
Before him stood the Dark Knights, armored in black, arrayed before the gates with a fearsome aura.
At their center, astride a massive black steed, a man lifted his head slowly.
From beneath the hood of a dark robe, eyes of blood-red gleamed.
‘H-hhk!’
The gaze seemed as if it could cut him down in an instant. The guard shrank back into the shadows of the wall, knees trembling.
Though the noonday sun burned overhead, a cold shiver ran down his spine.
‘C-calm yourself. They’re the ones who arrived ahead of schedule.’
No matter who stood before him, he could not open the gates without permission.
Guarding the gates of Este was a sacred duty.
Even if that man…
Even if he was none other than Kailian Hereis of the Dark Knights.
