After a long thirty-minute walk through the cobblestone maze of the Nobility District - and enough glares to make anyone rethink their fashion sense - I finally reached my destination.

  The estate of Lord Arthur. My so-called benefactor.

  Compared to the surrounding homes, Arthur's manor was a behemoth. Like it knew it didn’t belong in the neighborhood, but dared everyone to say otherwise. Towering iron fences, flawless lawns, a winding driveway lined with brass lamps - and no less than six guards pacing in neat rows.

  The place didn’t whisper wealth like the rest of the district. It roared power.

  I’d expect no less from the Commander of the Garrison forces for Morren City.

  As I approached the front gate, one of the guards stepped forward, smirking to his fellows. He wore the sharp auburn uniform with the lion-and-knives insignia stitched into his sleeve. Rifle slung, chin raised, posture perfect.

  And eyes full of contempt.

  "Halt. This is a restricted estate. No entry without certification."

  He looked me up and down like I was some gutter rat that had wandered too far from the sewers.

  "If you don’t have it, move along. Or suffer the consequences."

  I only rolled my eyes in response.

  This is a bit cliche, don’t you think?

  Without a word, I reached into my coat and pulled out the chained medallion Arthur had given me, the golden coin marked with his personal crest dangling lazily from two fingers.

  The guard’s smirk evaporated. His posture stiffened, salute trembling on the edge of his wrist.

  "My apologies, sir! May I have your name? You should be on the registry."

  I raised a brow and exhaled slowly, schooling my features into something haughty.

  "Damian," I said, straightening my collar. "No last name. Still working on it."

  The recognition hit like a slap. He straightened into a salute so stiff it was a miracle his spine didn't snap.

  "Young master Damian! I-I had no idea-!"

  "Relax," I said, waving a hand. "Tensions are high. I get it."

  He didn't move.

  I only smiled before putting a hand on his shoulder.

  “I’d rather you be overly cautious than lax. You're doing your job.”

  Before he could choke out another apology, another voice cut in.

  “Seems like the new recruit already got himself in trouble.”

  Adrian stepped up from behind the line of guards who now wore shocked expressions, brown hair messy as always, rifle slung casually over his shoulder. His green eyes carried both sharpness and warmth.

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  He clapped the guard on the other shoulder. “Resume your duties. I’ll escort him in.”

  The soldier nodded stiffly, still wide-eyed, and hurried back into his post.

  Adrian fell into step beside me as we passed through the gates. Once we were far enough away, his straight-backed soldier routine slipped. A grin spread across his face.

  “Still got the act down. Didn’t know you could play the good cop so well.”

  I kept my expression flat. “It needs to be convincing. Especially for tonight.”

  His grin dimmed slightly. “Right. Your Awakening ceremony’s tonight, isn’t it? About time, considering you turned sixteen a month ago. Strange it got delayed so long.”

  “Don’t remind me,” I muttered. “Even I don’t know the reason.”

  Adrian gave a theatrical sigh. “Shame I can’t come watch. Seeing you forced to stand in front of a crowd that size? Worth the ticket price.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You know me too well.”

  “Couple years, Damian,” he said, smirking. “Plenty of time to learn how much you hate people.”

  “I don’t hate people,” I said. “I just hate crowds. I prefer the company of a small circle.”

  “Sure you do.” He nudged me with his elbow. “Come train with us lowly soldiers again sometime. The new recruits could use a lesson or two from a sharpshooter like you. Even if your sword work could use some polishing.”

  I let a small smile slip. “Careful. I’ll show you who really needs the warmup.”

  “Challenge accepted,” Adrian shot back with a grin as we reached the manor’s grand steps.

  He saluted crisply with a fist above his heart, soldier mask snapping back on as two other guards opened the door for me.

  Inside, the air smelled of polish and old books.

  And there he was.

  Arthur.

  Blonde hair combed sharp, aquamarine eyes steady and bright as lightning in a bottle. His dark coat was lined with silver thread, one hand tapping ash from a pipe into a tray, the other scribbling notes in a ledger.

  Even seated, his presence filled the room. The kind of man you either followed, or challenged.

  “Damian,” he greeted smoothly, not even looking up from the page. “You’ve finally arrived.”

  I sank into a chair opposite his desk, sighing as though the weight of the day alone had killed me.

  “Tonight’s going to be a mess,” I said flatly. “Especially with my Divine Energy being black. I might as well walk in with a sign challenging the church.”

  Arthur finally looked up, pipe dangling lazily from his lips. His expression didn’t shift.

  “There’s no helping it. Since you can freely use your Divine Energy without a medium, you're definitely not a Weilder, so that leaves an Awakened or Veilwalker. Though the chances of being a Veilwalker are extremely rare, so don’t count on it. But if you prove yourself an Awakened like me, it’ll be worth the glares. ”

  “Optimistic,” I muttered.

  His eyes flicked toward me, sharp. “Is it still under control?”

  I exhaled slowly. “…Somewhat.”

  Arthur lifted one finger. Before I could respond, a needle-thin lance of fire hissed from his fingertip, streaking straight toward my head in a split second.

  I didn’t blink.

  A shadow rose from the ground at my side and curled upward in a sharp wall, swallowing the flame whole. The fire vanished without smoke, leaving only a faint ripple where the darkness consumed it.

  Arthur smiled faintly, lowering his hand. “Curious. I’ve never read of a pathway that doesn’t just block an attack, but devours it. Whatever you’ve inherited, Damian, it’s certainly a lost Path. I can only wonder whose bloodline you carry.”

  I leaned back, jaw tight. “Would be nice if I had any control over it.”

  “You will,” Arthur said firmly. “After tonight. And when you do - make sure you go out with a bang. Let every noble in that hall know that Damian, and by extension, Arthur’s house, are a force to be reckoned with.”

  I stared at him for a moment. His confidence, his composure, his damned conviction - it burned hotter than his fire ever could.

  And for a second, it annoyed me. Or maybe it was jealousy, I really couldn’t tell.

  I looked away. “Fine. But don’t expect me to enjoy myself.”

  Arthur’s smile widened just slightly, like he’d won something.

  Outside, the last light of day bled orange against the manor’s windows.

  Time to play noble. Again.

  I was back on the stage. Except now, it was time to make my debut.