THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR

David's expression remained an impenetrable mask. "Precisely, Elder Noble," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of finality.

Elder Maison massaged his temples, a silent acknowledgement of the mental exertion. The morning had been a chess match of intellect, a battle of wits between two formidable opponents. David, with his enigmatic demeanour, was a puzzle wrapped in a riddle. The young man was a force of nature, a whirlwind of potential and mystery that both intrigued and unsettled the elder. There was a familiar echo of his older brother in David's character—a blend of brilliance and unpredictability that both fascinated and frustrated.

With a decisive nod, Elder Maison broke the silence. "Very well," he stated, his voice firm. "I trust your judgment. I will dispatch Captain Kaelen to investigate Blackwood Manor personally." His eyes held a glint of determination as he concluded.

Elder Maison leaned back, a contemplative air settling upon him. "Well then," he began, his voice carrying the weight of finality, "I believe our discourse has reached its conclusion." His gaze flickered towards the ornate clock on the wall. "Night is approaching, and I would not have you linger in these halls." A subtle invitation hung in the air.

David rose, his movements graceful despite the underlying tension. "I thank you for your hospitality, Elder Maison," he replied, his voice carrying a note of formality. "But I must return to my own affairs."

A flicker of disappointment crossed the Elder's face. "Your departure is unfortunate," he remarked, his tone sincere. "Kaelen, please escort my nephew out."

As David turned to leave, followed closely by the watchful Captain, Elder Maison was left alone with his thoughts. The revelation of the Fingers' operation so close to home was a bitter pill to swallow. How could such a formidable force have operated under his nose for so long? Though it might seem trivial, he wasn't naive enough to dismiss it. There was undoubtedly more beneath the surface. And David, the enigmatic young man, had not only exposed their existence but had eradicated them with ruthless efficiency.

Was he revealing his true powers now to stake his claim for the mantle of the head of the house?

Elder Maison shook his head, dismissing the thought. "No, not with his older brother around," he mused. That boy was a monster in his own right. Despite David's recent accomplishments, Elder Maison couldn't envision him surpassing his older brother in the battle for succession.

A sharp rap echoed through the chamber, breaking the contemplative silence. Elder Maison's voice, a low command, cut through the air, "Maid!" Almost as if summoned by magic, a young woman, her face a mask of obedience, appeared at the doorway. "My lord?" she inquired, her voice barely a whisper.

"Fetch me a message scroll," Elder Maison ordered, his tone brooking no dissent. The maid bowed, a silent affirmation, and disappeared into the labyrinthine corridors of the mansion. As he waited, the weight of the world seemed to press down upon him. A message scroll was a magical tool that used mana to send important messages instantly across great distances, eliminating the need for a physical messenger. Though the scroll was classified as a 2nd-tier strategic tool and came with a hefty price tag, money was no concern for the Elder.

As he waited, Elder Maison pondered whether the Earl had concealed David's potential or if he was in the dark about his son's exploits. Questions swirled in his mind, a maelstrom of uncertainty. For now, however, he would focus on the task at hand: to inform his kin of the unfolding events.

****

Captain Kaelen's voice, a low rumble, broke the silence of the opulent corridor. "Quite the partner you have there," he remarked, his gaze flicking towards the door they had just exited.

David paused, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Partner?" he echoed.

A smirk crept across Kaelen's face. "Oh, come now," he said, a touch of amusement in his voice. "Feigning ignorance won't fool me. You summoned it to aid you in your little skirmish."

A flicker of surprise crossed David's face before he composed himself. "Ah, you mean her," he replied, a casual nonchalance masking his internal thoughts.

Kaelen nodded, his interest piqued. "Is she a familiar or a summon?" he inquired, the terms carrying weight in this world. David, with his knowledge of a different realm, found the distinction somewhat blurred.

A brief silence fell between them as David considered his response. Finally, he shook his head. "I'd prefer not to elaborate," he said, his voice firm.

Kaelen chuckled, a sound that carried a hint of respect. "No offence taken," he replied. "It's wise to keep one's cards close to the chest." His gaze, however, held a flicker of apprehension.

The captain couldn't help but wonder where David had acquired such a beast. If he had to guess, it must be an apex lord, which sent a shiver down his spine. He was a king-class swordsman, but fighting an all-out battle with such a monster wouldn't end well. The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying.

As they stepped into the blinding sunlight, a gauntlet of guards materialized, their gazes locked onto David like hungry predators. Captain Kaelen chuckled, a mirthless sound in the still air. "Seems you've acquired a rather fervent fanbase," he remarked, his eyes glinting with amusement. David, unperturbed by the hostile stares, merely shrugged.

 "Young master," Kaelen called, his voice cutting through the tension. David halted, his attention drawn to the captain. "I have a proposition," Kaelen began, his tone serious.

Intrigue sparked in David's eyes. "Enlighten me," he replied, his voice low.

"I'm no teacher, but I excel in the art of combat," Kaelen stated, his words a challenge veiled as an offer. "A spar, perhaps?" It was a test, a gauntlet thrown down. To refuse would be to admit weakness. He wasn't asking David to become his pupil but to spar with him, gauge his strength, and improve his combat abilities. No one would reject such an offer from a king-class swordsman.

David looked at Captain Kaelen, his gaze sharp. "What's the catch?" he asked, knowing such a deal had some hidden meaning behind it. A sly grin crept across Kaelen's face. "Join my militia, and by the time you become a master-class swordsman, with your talent probably five years from now, I will make you my vice-captain," It was a tempting offer, a fast track to power and influence.

But instantly, David replied, "Then, I'll have to reject your offer."

Captain Kaelen, his pride momentarily stung, pressed on. "Are you implying I am not your equal in combat?" His voice, though measured, carried a challenge.

David met his gaze, his expression impassive. "Far from it, Captain," he replied, his tone calm. "You are a formidable opponent. However, I prefer the solitude of the lone wolf to the pack mentality." His words were a direct challenge to Kaelen's offer.

Kaelen's mind raced. "So, the grand main army is your destination?" he probed, seeking a clearer picture of David's intentions. David shook his head, a definitive negative. "Not that path either," he replied. Disappointment flickered in Kaelen's eyes. "To waste such talent..." he began, his voice trailing off.

David's lips curved into a subtle smile. "Waste? Hardly," he countered. "I intend to forge my own path, on my own terms." Respect, tempered with curiosity, sparked in Kaelen's eyes.

A flicker of respect bloomed in Kaelen's mind. He had encountered countless young talents, but few with such a singular focus. "Very well," he conceded. "If you insist on treading your own path, I propose a different arrangement. Spar with me whenever you find yourself in Willowmere. And while you're at it, test your skills against my men. They could use the challenge."

David's eyebrows rose in amusement. "Aren't they a bit.... weak, to spar with?"

Kaelen smiled weakly. "It's for their own good. They need to grow stronger."

David considered the proposal, a hint of amusement gracing his lips. "I suppose that could be arranged," he replied, extending his hand. Kaelen, recognizing the unspoken agreement, grasped it firmly. "It is a deal," he confirmed. As they parted ways, a sense of mutual respect hung in the air.

David emerged from the grand estate, the well-worn path stretching out invitingly before him, leading the way to the Rusty Dragon. As he walked, a flicker of concern danced through him at the thought of Seraphina. He fervently hoped that she hadn't fled when faced with the unforgiving nature of their world. Her undeniable talent was matched only by the scarcity of her courage.