Dalfrid Ramel

“It’s been a blessing seeing you again, my friend,” I said, genuinely pleased. There are few people in this world I truly admire—and Mu, head of Zhen-Gwan and current leader of the Nishin Kingdom, is one of them.

He clapped once, a faint smile on his face.
“We must help each other, Dalfrid. I accepted your invitation to the festival only because of you, my friend. It would have been easy for me to ignore the call—like most of the other regions.”

He continued eating as he spoke, completely at ease.

“The festival is ancient. It was once a way for nations to truly connect… to understand one another.”
His expression darkened slightly.
“But now? Opeur has twisted it. Victory no longer means honor—it means acquisition. The strongest are taken, brought into their academy… and eventually into their army.”

I let out a quiet breath, watching him.

“Your appetite is as strong as ever. And yes… you’re right.”

He stopped eating for a moment and raised a finger slightly.

“Even so, I traveled all this distance alone… just to speak with you face to face.”

His tone shifted—more serious now.

I gestured lightly.
“What is it, my friend?”

He opened his eyes slowly, his gaze sharpening.

“I don’t know the current state of your relationship with your eldest son… but I have information.”
A brief pause.
“It seems things are not as broken between you and him as others believe.”

Silence settled between us.

“I need to understand him and his friend the Missing Prince,” he continued, “on a human level… if possible.”

My expression hardened.

“Is Gurd causing problems for your nation?”

Mu studied me for a moment, as if measuring my reaction.

“No. Not directly.”

A pause.

“But someone has joined them. That is what concerns us.”

I leaned forward slightly.

“You’re talking about the Storm Sword.”

He glanced down and let out a quiet laugh.

“Rumors truly travel fast.”

Then his tone turned colder.

“Yes. The Storm Sword. I do not know him personally… but my generals despise him. And understandably so—he single-handedly weakened my army. Killed several of my top-tier fighters.”

He looked back at me, eyes sharp.

“Dalfrid… they are becoming dangerous. If we do nothing, this will escalate into war.”

A beat.

“So tell me… who exactly am I dealing with?”

I held his gaze.

“Then why haven’t you approached them directly?” I asked. “I know you avoided making Opeur feel threatened—we are speaking of their prince, after all. But you could have acted indirectly.”

I paused.

“Very well… I’ll tell you.”

My conversation with Lord Mu lasted for several hours… until a knock came at the door.

“Lord Dalfrid.”

Mu glanced at me and gave a small nod.
“You may go, my friend. I’ve already taken enough of your time—and I have what I came for.”

I returned a faint smile.
“I hope I was of help. Enjoy your stay in our capital, Charta, Lord Mu.”

With that, I left the room.

Outside, I found Sirod waiting for me.

“What is it, Sirod?” I asked, my tone sharpening slightly. “Could it not wait until I finished receiving my guest?”

He lowered his head, his voice quieter than usual.

“My apologies, Lord Dalfrid… but Lord Vahmir instructed me to call for you immediately.”

I frowned.

“Vahmir? For what reason?”

Sirod hesitated for a brief moment before answering.

“He is currently with Lord Dorgon… and Lord Fung, sir.”

I stopped mid-step.

“Lord Dorgon?” I repeated, caught off guard. “What is the lord of Sivana doing here? Didn’t they refuse to participate in the festival? It’s far too late to change their minds now.”

Sirod shook his head.

“I don’t know, sir. They didn’t explain the reason for their visit.”

We headed directly to the Bloodrose mansion.

As the massive black doors opened, we stepped inside the main hall.

A feminine voice greeted me the moment I entered.

“It’s been a while, Lord Dalfrid. How is Dahlia doing?”

I turned slightly. It was Serah Bloodrose.

“She’s doing well,” I replied with a faint smile. “Thank you for asking.”

She nodded and gestured for us to follow, guiding us deeper into the mansion—toward a chamber at the back.

This was my first time seeing it.

A vast, open space stretched before me, bathed in sunlight that poured through high openings above. The white walls reflected the light, giving the entire room an almost serene glow. Beneath our feet, dark stone framed a steady flow of water rising from beneath the ground, cutting through the chamber like a living vein.

A beautiful contrast.

Just like the Bloodrose family itself—their two branches, divided yet bound together.

At the far end of the chamber stood two figures in conversation.

Vahmir Bloodrose—his long dark hair resting along his shoulders.

And beside him, Young Fung, heir of the Fung family.

The Fung bloodline was known for their silver hair, and Young Fung was no exception. His long, pale strands almost disappeared against the brightness of the chamber, blending with the white walls and sunlight.

They noticed my presence and turned toward me, offering a slight bow.

Vahmir spoke first.

“My apologies, Lord Dalfrid, for requesting this meeting here. I had no other choice.”

Before I could respond—

A voice cut in from behind me.

“Lord Dalfrid… it’s been a long time.”

A hand gripped my shoulder.

I didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

The grip was firm—unnatural. Clawed.

Partially transformed.

Thick, golden fur brushed against my shoulder, coarse and warm, while long, sharp claws pressed just enough to remind me of their presence.

Then he moved—fast.

Landing in front of me, meeting my eyes.

Dorgon.

I stared at him, my expression hardening.

“What brings you here?”

The chamber suddenly felt heavier.

Lord Vahmir Bloodrose’s dark eyes began to glow—deep crimson, sharp and threatening.

“You will not use your power inside my mansion.”

His gaze locked onto Dorgon.

At the same time, Young Fung’s hands began to change—grey fur spreading across his skin as claws formed at his fingertips.

The air tightened.

They were about to escalate.

I stepped forward.

“That’s enough.”

My voice cut through the room—firm, absolute.

Dorgon glanced at me, then let out a quiet chuckle as his transformation faded.

“That’s boring,” he said lazily. “Lord Vahmir, you’re far too strict. I was just having a bit of fun with our lord.”

I didn’t react.

“Well,” I said calmly, my gaze moving across the room, “I’m here now.”

A pause.

“Let’s talk.”

For a brief moment, the chamber trembled.

The water beneath us stilled.

And then—

silence.