As they continued their journey, the land slowly began to change.

The roads grew wider. The forests thinned, replaced by open stretches of stone-paved paths carved with old markings. 

The air felt colder after days of dragging their tired feet and arguing over which way the sun was even supposed to rise.

They were getting close.

Very close.

Ahead of them, rising from the horizon like a wall against the sky, stood the borders of their home.

The Kingdom of Valecyrr.

A kingdom tucked somewhere far up north, between jagged mountains and frozen plains. 

Watchtowers lined the borders, banners snapping violently in the wind. Armed patrols moved along the ramparts 

The carriage slowed.

One of the men riding beside them let out a long breath.
“…We finally made it back.”

The gates loomed ahead, thick and reinforced, etched with old runes meant to repel both monsters and men. Guards stepped forward, weapons lowered but ready.

“State your identity.”

Shun’s older brother handed over their crest.

The moment the guards saw the emblem—their family’s emblem—the tension vanished. Eyes widened. Postures straightened.

“…You may pass.”

A loud creeeak echoed as the massive gates began to open.

Shun’s people moved forward without hesitation.

The guards stared as they entered.

Their armor was scratched and dented, some pieces warped from heavy blows. Dried blood stained metal and leather alike. Weapons carried nicks that told stories no one bothered to explain.

As they passed through, quiet mutters slipped between them.

“Finally… real food.”

“I’m taking a vacation after this.”

“Never camping again…”

One guard leaned toward another, whispering, “Hoa… look at their equipment…”

The gates closed behind them.

Shun leaned forward, eyes fixed on the familiar stone streets beyond.

Home.

As soon as they crossed into Valecyrr proper, the caravan didn’t slow to admire the capital or its inner districts. They turned north instead, following a familiar route that cut away from the main roads and led toward the far edge of the kingdom.

Their destination lay on the outskirts of Valecyrr’s northern territory—a city built closer to the wilds than to comfort. 

Stone buildings clustered tightly together, reinforced with iron beams and layered walls. This was Drosswyn land. 

Practical. 

Cold. 

Unforgiving.

By the time the caravan reached the city gates, word had already spread.

Inside the Drosswyn estate, high above the streets, Baron Ilrec Drosswyn stood near a tall window, hands clasped behind his back. Snow drifted lazily beyond the glass, settling on battlements and rooftops alike.

Knock. Knock.

“What is it?” the Baron asked without turning.

The butler entered quietly, bowing his head. “Pardon the intrusion, sir. Your sons have returned to the territory.”

At that, Baron Ilrec’s hand tightened into a fist.

“…Back,” he repeated, his voice low. He stared out the window for a long moment, eyes hard, unreadable. 

“I see.” He exhaled once.

“Send someone to them,” he said. “Tell the eldest to meet me the moment they arrive. No delays.”

The butler straightened. “I will go myself, sir.”

As the man turned to leave, the Baron spoke again.

“And… the youngest.”

The butler paused.

“I understand, sir,” he replied carefully. “We’ll keep an eye on him. Ensure he doesn’t… make anything important—”

A brief silence followed.

“… Explode,” Baron Ilrec added.

The door closed softly behind him.

Baron Ilrec remained by the window.

“Trouble follows that child,” he muttered. “Every time.”

Still…

As the caravan crossed deeper into their own territory, the atmosphere shifted.

At the estate’s outer courtyard, a butler stepped forward, flanked by several knights in dark armor. 

“Young masters,” the butler said, surprise flickering across his usually composed face. “Aren’t you meant to be in the south? What brings you back so soon?”

The eldest dismounted first, boots hitting stone with a dull thud. His eyes swept the area once.

“There were… complications,” he replied. “Something bad happened. Where is Father?”

The butler straightened. “He’s already been informed of your return, my lord. Baron Ilrec asked me to deliver his message personally.” He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “You are to go to him as quickly as possible. He wishes to speak with you at once.”

“I see,” the eldest said without hesitation. “I’ll head straight to him.”

He took a few steps forward, then stopped and glanced back.

“Make sure Shun doesn’t wander around,” he added, tone firm. “You know how he is.”

The butler allowed himself a small, tired smile. “You can count on me, young master. I’ll keep a close eye on him.”

“Oii, I heard that!” Shun protested, hopping down from the carriage. “You talk like I’m some kind of problem!”

One of the knights coughed, poorly hiding a laugh.

The eldest didn’t even turn around. “You are a problem,” he said flatly, already walking away.

Shun puffed his cheeks, crossing his arms. “Tch. This house never appreciates talent.”

The butler sighed, motioning for the knights to move in. “Please, young master,” he said gently. “Let’s get you inside before you decide to test that talent on the estate walls.”

Shun grinned.

“No promises…. Mwehe”