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Chapter 302: Aether

The sound of splintering wood echoed through the stable as a loud crash followed the Marquis's cryptic statement. Lucavion's eyes darted toward the commotion, his smirk fading into a look of sharp curiosity. Valeria tensed beside him, her hand instinctively moving toward the hilt of her sword, though she didn't draw it.

"Ah… She is here," the Marquis murmured again, his tone calm but tinged with a subtle reverence.

Lucavion's sharp gaze followed the sound, and his eyes landed on a sight that commanded immediate attention. At the far end of the stable, an imposing horse stood in the center of an open pen, its presence dominating the space.

The creature was unlike anything Lucavion had seen before. Her coat was a deep, inky black that shimmered faintly like liquid obsidian under the enchanted lanterns, while her mane and tail cascaded like flowing shadows, moving as though alive. Her eyes burned with a faint, ethereal blue glow, giving her an almost otherworldly appearance.

The horse reared onto her hind legs, her front hooves kicking out with enough force to send one of the caretakers sprawling backward. Another caretaker approached cautiously, but the horse lashed out again, her power evident in the way the air seemed to hum with mana around her.

"She is the pride of our stables," the Marquis said softly, his tone carrying both pride and a hint of exasperation. "The untamed heart of the Ventorian Chargers."

Lucavion tilted his head, his smirk slowly returning as he watched the wild horse with unmasked interest. "And I take it 'she' doesn't take kindly to being penned up?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement.

"She doesn't just dislike being penned up," the Marquis replied, his voice tinged with a mix of pride and resignation. "She rejects it entirely. Her name is Aether—fitting, don't you think? A horse that embodies freedom itself, one who will never bow to anyone."

"Aether," Lucavion repeated, the name rolling off his tongue with a quiet reverence. His smirk softened as his sharp gaze remained locked on the horse. "A name that suits her perfectly."

Aether pawed at the ground, her hooves sparking faintly with mana as she tossed her head, her silken mane rippling like shadows caught in a breeze. The glow in her eyes burned brighter as if sensing the weight of her name being spoken aloud. She reared again, her powerful form silhouetted against the lantern light, her defiance palpable.

"She has thrown every rider who's ever dared to approach her," the Marquis continued, his tone steady. "Even the most skilled equestrians in my employ could not hold their seat for more than a few moments. Aether refuses to be tamed, to be controlled."

Lucavion chuckled softly, crossing his arms as he leaned casually against the pen's edge. "Sounds like we'd get along just fine," he remarked, his voice carrying a playful edge. "We both have a problem with authority."

Valeria shot him a sharp glance, her expression caught between disapproval and incredulity. "Lucavion, don't even think about it," she said, her tone low and firm. "That horse will crush you the moment you step into that pen."

He raised an eyebrow at her, his smirk growing as he tilted his head slightly. "What's the matter, Valeria? Afraid I'll get a bruise or two?"

"No," she snapped, her brows furrowing. "I'm afraid you'll get trampled." But then she tilted her head to the side.

"No, maybe that would be better…..It appears that the only way you learn something is by force, so why not get trampled a little…."

Lucavion rolled his eyes.

"I am not a wild beast…."

"I disagree. You are a wild beast….."

"..."

The Marquis watched the exchange with quiet amusement, though his sharp eyes remained fixed on Lucavion. "It's not just about strength or skill," he said, his voice thoughtful. "Aether demands more than that. She values something deeper—respect, freedom, and the courage to meet her as an equal, not as a master."

The Marquis's gaze lingered on Aether, his usual calm expression shadowed with a faint trace of nostalgia. "Aether's spirit is no accident," he began, his voice quieter, carrying a weight of history. "Her mother, Solace, was the most beautiful horse ever born in our stables. Her coat shone like golden sunlight, and her presence commanded respect from all who saw her."

He paused, his eyes softening as he continued. "Solace and Aether were an extraordinary pair. Even as a foal, Aether had the same wild spark, the same untamable energy. Together, they were unstoppable—the pride of the Ventorian Chargers. But there was one rule, one tradition that my family has upheld for generations." His voice grew heavier. "Solace was reserved only for the heirs who proved themselves in the succession battle. She was a mount meant for leaders, for victors."

Lucavion raised an eyebrow, his smirk tempered by curiosity. "Let me guess," he said, his tone light but edged with understanding. "Things didn't go according to tradition?"

The Marquis chuckled softly, though the sound carried little humor. "Not quite. My sister… let's just say she didn't believe in playing fair. The succession battle wasn't merely a competition of merit—it became a battlefield of deception. I managed to prevail, but not without cost. And the one who bore the brunt of her scheming…" He gestured toward Aether, who stood defiant and proud in her pen. "Was this little one."

Valeria's gaze shifted to the horse, her disciplined demeanor giving way to a faint flicker of sympathy. "What happened to Solace?" she asked softly, her voice steady but tinged with unease.

The Marquis sighed, his expression darkening. "My sister's plans resulted in Solace being caught in the crossfire—figuratively and literally. She was gravely injured, and though we tried everything to save her, she didn't survive. Aether was still young, barely more than a foal, but she understood. She witnessed it all."

Lucavion's smirk faded entirely, his sharp gaze lingering on Aether. The horse's stance, her defiance, her unwillingness to accept any rider—it all made sense now.

'Interesting….'

"Aether hasn't allowed anyone near her since. She's strong, powerful, and unyielding. But that pain, that loss… it shaped her into what she is now. Wild, free, and unwilling to bow to anyone—not even those who mean her no harm."

Lucavion's smirk deepened as he stepped closer to the pen, his sharp gaze fixed on Aether. "Well now," he murmured, his tone light but edged with intrigue. "Let's see if you're really as untouchable as they say."

The Marquis glanced at him, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. "Lucavion," he said, his voice calm but firm, "I must warn you—approaching her is not without risk."

Lucavion waved off the caution with a dismissive gesture, his eyes never leaving the horse. "What's life without a little risk, Marquis?"

Valeria groaned softly, muttering something under her breath about reckless idiots. Lucavion ignored her, reaching into his spatial bracelet and pulling out a small bundle wrapped in cloth. With deliberate slowness, he unwrapped it, revealing a piece of glimmering fruit, its faintly glowing skin radiating a subtle aura of mana.

Aether's ears flicked toward him at the sight, her glowing eyes narrowing with suspicion. Lucavion stepped closer, holding the fruit out in his palm. "Easy there," he said softly, his tone low and soothing. "I'm not here to hurt you."

The horse snorted loudly, her mane rippling like living shadows as she reared slightly, her front hooves pawing at the air. Lucavion froze, his smirk fading into a neutral expression as he held his ground. Slowly, he extended his hand again, the fruit resting on his open palm.

Aether's glowing eyes bore into him, her stance rigid and unyielding. For a brief moment, it seemed like she might relent—but then, with a sudden, sharp movement, she lashed out with her hoof, sending the fruit flying from his hand.

Lucavion didn't flinch, though his smirk returned, tinged with amusement. "Well, that's one way to say no," he said lightly, stepping back with a chuckle. "I'll take that as a 'not yet.'"

Aether snorted again, tossing her head as if to punctuate her point. The Marquis cleared his throat, his calm voice cutting through the tension. "Anyway," he began, his tone measured, "let's return to our main topic."

Lucavion turned to him, his smirk lingering as he leaned casually against the edge of the pen. "Oh? And what might that be, Marquis?"

The Marquis gestured toward the rows of stalls, his expression thoughtful. "As I mentioned earlier, Lucavion, you have earned a great deal from this tournament. And as a gesture of my personal appreciation, I'd like to offer you something… unique."

He swept his hand toward the stable, the faint hum of mana from the horses filling the air. "Choose any horse you see here," he said, his voice steady. "Ventorian Chargers are not given lightly, but I believe you've more than earned the right to take one with you."

Valeria raised an eyebrow, her disciplined demeanor faltering for a moment. "Any horse?" she asked, her tone tinged with disbelief.

The Marquis inclined his head. "Indeed. Each of these horses has been raised and trained with care, and they are among the finest mounts in the kingdom. Lucavion has proven himself capable, and I trust he will make good use of whichever he chooses."

Lucavion's smirk widened, his sharp gaze flicking over the rows of stalls. Each horse stood proud and majestic, their glossy coats and powerful builds were a testament to the Marquis's words. "Now this," he said, his voice carrying a note of genuine admiration, "is a reward worth considering."

His eyes lingered on Aether for a moment longer before he turned his attention to the rest of the stable. As much as he enjoyed a challenge, he understood that Aether's trust would not be won so easily—or quickly. For now, he would respect her boundaries.

Or would he?

"Marquis…..by that point, you must have understood my character no?"

He was a different guy…..

Chapter 303: Aether (2)

"Marquis…..by that point, you must have understood my character no?"

The Marquis turned to Lucavion, his gaze heavy with scrutiny. For a long moment, he said nothing, his sharp eyes boring into Lucavion's smirking expression. Finally, he spoke, his tone low and deliberate. "Does this mean you truly intend to do this, Lucavion? To approach her?"

Lucavion's smile widened, his eyes gleaming with a mix of determination and mischief. "Indeed, Marquis. I'm not one to back down from a challenge. Aether may not trust me yet, but that doesn't mean she never will."

The Marquis's expression darkened, though not with anger—there was something closer to concern, tempered by resignation. "Very well," he said quietly, "but understand this, Lucavion—I will not let you harm her. If you so much as frighten her unnecessarily, I will stop you myself."

Lucavion inclined his head, his smirk softening slightly. "I wouldn't dream of it. She's not just a horse—she's a creature of pride, freedom, and power. I understand that. Give me half an hour, Marquis. If I can't win her over in that time, I'll walk away."

The Marquis's eyes narrowed further as if weighing the sincerity in Lucavion's words. After a tense pause, he sighed deeply, his expression relaxing just enough to convey reluctant acceptance. "Half an hour," he said finally, his tone carrying a warning. "If she shows any sign of distress, you stop immediately. Do you understand?"

Lucavion nodded, his smirk unwavering. "Crystal clear."

The Marquis stepped aside, gesturing toward the pen with a small wave of his hand. "If this is what you want… then so be it."

Valeria let out an audible groan, crossing her arms as she shot Lucavion a glare. "You're impossible," she muttered, though her voice carried a faint note of resignation. "If you get yourself trampled, I'm not helping."

"Noted," Lucavion replied, his tone light as he turned his full attention to Aether. The horse had calmed slightly, though her sharp, glowing eyes still burned with defiance. Her stance was rigid, her powerful form radiating tension as she pawed at the ground, her mane rippling like living shadows.

Lucavion stepped forward slowly, his movements deliberate and measured. He stopped just short of the pen's entrance, his gaze locked onto Aether's and held his ground. The two regarded each other in silence, their mutual wariness hanging heavy in the air.

********

Now that I think about it, can animals feel emotions?

Maybe not every one of them is smart enough, but some?

Or is the loss of beings that we hold dear painful universally?

Can every living being discern the term "we hold dear"? Or is it just something special to humans?

Whatever it is the answer to this question, it is apparent that this one before me can.

The air in the stable seemed heavier now, thick with tension that wasn't just from the horse standing before me. Aether's glowing eyes bore into mine, her defiance as sharp as a blade. She was magnificent, really—a creature that embodied freedom itself. But there was something else there, beneath the rippling shadows of her mane and the power radiating from her stance. Pain.

I knew that pain.

"Loss," I murmured, my voice barely audible. "It's always there, isn't it?"

Aether's ears flicked, and for a moment, I wondered if she could understand me. Not in the literal sense, of course, but in the way that creatures with old souls sometimes could. Her stance didn't relax, but she didn't move to charge either.

"Everyone in this world loses something, someone," I continued, my tone soft but edged with quiet bitterness. "That's the cruel truth of it, isn't it? No matter how strong you are, no matter how fiercely you fight to protect them… it's never enough. People slip away. Some are ripped from you, others drift like leaves in the wind. And the worst part? You're left behind, holding the pieces of what they were."

I stepped closer to the pen, my movements slow and deliberate. Aether's glowing eyes narrowed, her tail lashing once, but she didn't move.

"Sometimes, it feels like the world delights in taking what matters most. Like it feeds off your pain, off the emptiness it leaves behind. It's sharp, isn't it? That hollow ache in your chest, like a wound that never quite heals. You carry it with you, every single day, even when you think you've moved on."

I stopped just short of the pen's edge, leaning against it with a quiet sigh. "I've felt it too. More times than I care to admit. And I've seen it in others—the way it breaks them bends them into something they weren't meant to be. Some people drown in it. Others harden, turning their grief into anger, into purpose. And some, like you…" I nodded toward Aether, her glowing eyes unyielding. "They wear it like armor."

The horse snorted softly, her mane rippling as though stirred by an unseen breeze. I could feel her tension, her refusal to let anyone close—not because she wanted to hurt them, but because she couldn't bear to lose someone again. That kind of pain wasn't easy to endure.

"You're right to be wary," I said, my voice quieter now. "Because the truth is, nothing can make that pain go away. Not really. You can try to forget, bury it, drown it in anger or distraction, but it never truly leaves you. It lingers, like a shadow that stretches with the passing of time."

I leaned forward slightly, meeting her gaze directly. "But here's the thing, Aether."

The soft crackle of flames broke the tension, a sound faint but unmistakable. Aether's ears twitched, her glowing eyes snapping to the flickering light that danced across my outstretched hand. The [Flame of Equinox] coiled there, a steady, living heat that pulsed with a rhythm only I could feel. It wasn't just fire—it was balance, a harmony of life and death, an energy both destructive and nurturing.

"What are you doing?" the Marquis's voice rang out, sharp and laced with warning.

I raised my other hand without breaking my gaze from Aether. "Marquis, you need not worry. My flames will not harm this one."

The tension in the room was palpable, but I let it wash over me. Aether's stance remained taut, her defiance unyielding, but her eyes were locked onto the flames now, captivated by their strange, shifting glow.

"Life and death…" I murmured, my voice low, almost to myself. "They both complement each other. One cannot exist without the other. And yet, we struggle against death, as though it's an enemy. As though it isn't the very thing that gives life its meaning."

Aether's mane rippled like liquid shadows caught in an invisible wind, the faint hum of mana thickening in the air around her. Her gaze didn't waver, and for a moment, it felt as though she truly was listening.

"But you," I continued, my tone softening, "you've let death shackle you. The loss of someone dear has bound you, hasn't it?" I tilted my head slightly, studying her, searching for some flicker of understanding. "Aether, will you let that pain define you? Will you let it hold you captive, even as you claim to embrace freedom?"

I wasn't sure if she could comprehend my words—if she could even begin to grasp the weight of what I was saying. But in that moment, it didn't matter. Perhaps I wasn't speaking to her at all. Perhaps these words were meant for me.

"This freedom you cling to," I said, my voice steady but carrying a faint edge of something unspoken, "isn't it your prison? Isn't it the very thing keeping you from moving forward?"

The flames in my hand flickered, their light casting faint shadows that danced across Aether's dark coat. She pawed at the ground, her powerful form trembling slightly, not with fear, but with something deeper. Something raw.

I stepped closer to the pen's edge, the heat of the flames warming the air between us. "Come," I said, my voice calm but commanding. "If you want to experience what real freedom is."

Aether's glowing eyes burned brighter, her gaze locked onto mine now as though searching for something—truth, perhaps, or resolve.

I extended my hand, the [Flame of Equinox] flaring slightly, its light casting a soft glow across the stable. "Or," I continued, my voice dropping to a near whisper, "without the flame of life, you'll lose yourself in the coldness of death."

The stable was silent save for the faint crackle of flames and the quiet hum of mana that filled the air. I stood there, my hand extended, waiting. The choice was hers. It had always been hers.

Would she remain bound by her pain, or would she take the first step toward something greater? Toward something free? Only time would tell.

"But one thing is clear…" I said softly, my voice cutting through the silence. The flames in my hand burned steadily, their warm glow casting shifting light onto Aether's dark coat. "The hardest step is always the first one."

Aether's ears flicked again, her sharp, glowing eyes never leaving the fire. The hum of mana around her seemed to grow quieter, almost as if the air itself was holding its breath. Her defiance remained, etched into every taut muscle, every ripple of her flowing mane, but there was something else now. Something softer. A question, perhaps. A flicker of doubt in her unyielding stance.

And then, she moved.

"Heh…..Not bad….."

Chapter 304: Aether (3)

She moved.

It was subtle at first—a pawing of the ground, a slight lowering of her head. The defiance in her glowing eyes wavered, not gone but softened, replaced by something deeper. Slowly, deliberately, Aether took a step forward.

The sound of her hoof meeting the stable floor was almost deafening in the stillness. My breath caught for a moment, the weight of that step more profound than any charge or strike I'd faced in the arena. It wasn't just a step. It was a choice.

Aether paused, her glowing eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made the air hum. The tension between us shifted, transforming from a battle of wills into something else entirely—a silent conversation, an unspoken understanding.

"There it is," I murmured, my voice barely audible but carrying the weight of certainty. "The first step."

Her mane rippled like liquid shadows, and the faint hum of mana around her seemed to resonate in time with the flames in my hand. Aether's gaze dipped briefly to the fire before returning to mine, her posture more curious now, less guarded.

I held my ground, my hand still extended, the [Flame of Equinox] steady and unwavering. "It's not easy, is it?" I said, my tone quiet but steady. "Breaking free from the chains you've lived with for so long. Trusting something—or someone—enough to take that step. But you did it."

The faintest breath of air escaped her nostrils, a sound that might have been a snort but felt more like a sigh. Her powerful frame relaxed slightly, her movements no longer as rigid, as though some unseen weight had lifted from her shoulders.

"Freedom isn't about running from the past," I continued, my voice carrying a quiet reverence. "It's about facing it. It's about choosing to carry the pain without letting it define you. That's what makes you strong—not the armor you wear, but the courage to take it off."

Aether took another step, the faint glow in her eyes shifting, softening. Her mane seemed to flow more gently now, less like living shadows and more like a breeze caught in moonlight. She was close enough now that I could feel the hum of her mana blending with the warmth of the flames in my hand.

I didn't move, didn't reach out to her. This had to be her choice. It always had to be her choice.

Aether's gaze lingered on the flames, and for a moment, the world felt impossibly still. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, she lowered her head, the tip of her nose brushing the edge of the fire. The flames didn't recoil or burn; instead, they seemed to embrace her, their light mingling with her mana in a quiet, harmonious glow.

I exhaled softly, the tension in my chest loosening as a faint smile tugged at the corner of my lips.

"Heh…..Now, you can't escape."

*******

Valeria watched from a distance, her arms crossed, her brow furrowed as the bizarre scene unfolded before her. Aether's mane rippled like shadows in an unseen breeze, her movements uncharacteristically slow and deliberate as she stepped closer to Lucavion. It was as though the horse wasn't just walking but deciding—with every fiber of her being—how to respond to the man before her.

Lucavion stood there, his posture calm yet unwavering. From where Valeria stood, she couldn't hear a word of what he was saying. The hum of mana in the air had grown stronger, and she could see the faint glow of flames coiled in his hand, flickering softly against the stable's dim light.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, unease settling in her chest. 'What in the world is he doing?' she thought, her sharp eyes narrowing as she focused on the strange interplay between man and beast. Aether, the horse no one could tame, was moving as though mesmerized. Her steps, her stance—it was all so… deliberate, so unlike the wild defiance she had displayed mere moments ago.

'Is this really the same person who stood here earlier, smirking and making jokes about authority?' Valeria wondered, her grip tightening on her arms. 'The same person who proposed we wage war on the Cloud Heavens Sect, as if the lives that would be lost were just a price to pay for justice? How does someone go from recklessness to… this?'

Her gaze lingered on Lucavion's expression, illuminated faintly by the flames. His usual smirk was gone, replaced by a calm intensity she hadn't seen before. It wasn't the sharp, calculating look he wore when playing politics or the infuriatingly smug grin that accompanied his banter. This was different. There was a weight to his stance, a quiet understanding that seemed entirely out of place for someone like him.

Aether moved again, lowering her head toward the fire. The shimmering flames didn't flare or recoil; they seemed to welcome her, mingling softly with the faint aura of mana that surrounded the horse. Valeria's breath hitched. The sight was almost surreal, like something out of a story.

'What is he saying to her?' she wondered. 'What's making that impossible horse move like that?'

And yet, even as she asked herself these questions, a deeper, more troubling thought crept into her mind. 'Was I wrong about him?'

She hated the thought. Lucavion was reckless, arrogant, and infuriatingly smug. He infuriated her constantly with his taunts, his provocations, his refusal to take anything seriously. But now, as she watched him interact with Aether, she saw a side of him that didn't fit any of the pieces she had assembled.

'Is he really like this? Or is this just another act?' Valeria bit her lip, her thoughts spinning. 'No one changes this fast. No one goes from proposing a witch hunt to… whatever this is. So which one is the real Lucavion? The man with the fiery rhetoric or the one coaxing an untamable creature into lowering her defenses?'

Her eyes flicked back to Aether, who stood now with her head lowered, her glowing blue eyes fixed on the flames in Lucavion's hand. The tension in her powerful frame seemed to have melted, replaced by something gentler, something raw and vulnerable.

Valeria's chest tightened at the sight. She didn't know what to make of it. All she knew was that, for the first time, she was seeing something in Lucavion that didn't align with the chaos and recklessness she had come to expect.

'No….it is not the first time….'

Valeria's thoughts flickered back, unbidden, to the memory of the foxkin siblings. Their soft, trembling voices, their guarded expressions—they had been on the edge of despair when Lucavion stepped in. She remembered how he'd crouched down to their level, his usual smirk replaced by a calm gentleness that caught even her off guard.

He hadn't taunted them or pushed them with his usual audacious humor. Instead, he'd spoken with a quiet sincerity, as though he truly understood their fear, their pain. His words had been measured, deliberate, carrying a weight that belied the careless persona he so often wore. "You're safe now. No one will harm you while I'm here."

unseen weight had been lifted. Lucavion hadn't just protected them physically; he'd given them something more intangible—a sense of hope.

'Right…' Valeria thought, her brow furrowing as she watched him now, standing before Aether with that same calm intensity. 'I've seen this before, haven't I? That… other side of him. The one he doesn't show unless he thinks no one's paying attention.'

Her perception of Lucavion had always been a shifting, chaotic thing. One moment, he was a reckless rogue with a penchant for pushing boundaries; the next, he was a sharp strategist, weaving through conversations and conflicts with a precision that left her reeling. And then, there were these rare moments—when he seemed stripped of all the artifice and bravado, leaving something raw, something startlingly innocent in its place.

'It's no wonder I can't figure him out,' she admitted to herself, her lips pressing into a thin line. 'He doesn't let anyone see the full picture. He's always shifting, always wearing a mask. But… this side of him feels real. Maybe more real than the rest.'

Her train of thought was interrupted by the Marquis's voice, cutting through the tension in the stable.

"He really did it…" the Marquis murmured, his tone quiet but heavy with disbelief. His sharp eyes were fixed on Lucavion and Aether, his usually composed demeanor slipping for just a moment as he shook his head in quiet amazement.

Valeria blinked, turning to him. The Marquis wasn't a man easily surprised, yet the astonishment in his voice was undeniable. It was clear—he hadn't expected this outcome any more than she had.

'How does he keep doing this?' she wondered, her gaze shifting back to Lucavion. 'How does he achieve these impossible things?'

There was no denying it. Lucavion had a way of cutting through layers of resistance—whether with people or, apparently, with creatures like Aether. He didn't overpower or dominate; he found cracks in the walls others built and gently, insistently, widened them until they gave way.

The sight before her—a horse no one could tame now standing calm, her nose brushing the flame in Lucavion's hand—was proof enough of that.

'It's like he understands something the rest of us can't see… or won't admit,' Valeria thought, a strange mix of frustration and admiration twisting in her chest. 'He acts like the world is his to command, yet there are moments like this—moments where he seems to be the only one willing to meet it on its own terms.'

The Marquis exhaled quietly beside her, his expression softening into something almost reverent. "To be honest," he said, more to himself than anyone else, "I didn't think he would succeed. Aether's spirit is too wild, too scarred. And yet…" He trailed off, shaking his head again, as though the words to explain what he was seeing eluded him.

Valeria stayed silent, her eyes locked on Lucavion. 'Neither did I,' she thought, her chest tightening further. 'But somehow… he did.'

And as Aether took another step toward him, the glowing flames reflected in her ethereal blue eyes, Valeria felt her understanding of Lucavion shift once more.

Chapter 305: Departure

The Marquis's soft laugh startled Valeria out of her thoughts. She turned to him, her brow furrowing at the unexpected sound. He wasn't one to laugh idly, especially not in situations like this. Yet there he was, a low chuckle escaping as he shook his head, a strange mix of amazement and disbelief flickering across his features.

"I thought he was a demon," the Marquis murmured, his voice tinged with quiet humor. "When he sat at that table earlier, speaking with such cold precision, laying out that audacious plan… I truly believed he might be something inhuman."

Valeria blinked, caught off guard by his admission. She had thought the same herself more than once. The way Lucavion spoke of war, of calculated risks and devastating consequences, had made her blood run cold. But now…

The Marquis gestured toward Lucavion with a slight tilt of his chin, his sharp eyes glinting with something between admiration and amusement. "And yet, look at him now. This man who spoke of razing sects, of challenging the entire status quo—here he is, coaxing an untamable horse like a patient gardener tending a fragile bloom."

Valeria's gaze returned to Lucavion. He was still there, calm and steady, his hand extended toward Aether. The flame in his palm burned steadily, and though his posture remained relaxed, there was an undeniable intensity to him—a quiet persistence that refused to waver.

The Marquis chuckled again, softer this time, almost to himself. "He's unpredictable," he said, his tone carrying a strange kind of approval. "One moment, he's a reckless fool, the next, a cold strategist. And then… this. A man who seems to understand the world in ways even I cannot. It's enough to make you question your judgment, isn't it?"

Valeria stiffened slightly, her lips pressing into a thin line. "He's infuriating," she muttered, though the words felt half-hearted even as she spoke them.

The Marquis didn't respond right away, his gaze lingering on Lucavion. "Perhaps," he said finally, his tone contemplative. "But it's that unpredictability that makes him dangerous—and valuable. You never know which version of him you're going to get. And somehow, that always works to his advantage."

Valeria let out a soft, frustrated sigh. "It's reckless," she said, though her voice lacked its usual edge. "What if it hadn't worked? What if Aether had trampled him? Or worse?"

The Marquis smiled faintly, his expression still laced with amusement. "But it did work, didn't it? That's the thing about Lucavion—he walks the line between brilliance and disaster so finely, it's impossible to tell which way he'll fall. And yet… he always lands on his feet."

Lucavion strode toward them, his smirk firmly back in place and his usual air of nonchalance restored. Behind him, Aether followed closely, her movements no longer brimming with the defiance that had marked her earlier. The glow of her eyes was softer now, her head held high, and her mane rippled with a tranquil grace.

"Well," Lucavion said, his voice carrying its familiar playful edge as he stopped before the Marquis and Valeria. "How's that? Did half an hour pass yet?" His smirk widened, his sharp gaze flicking between them.

The Marquis exhaled sharply, shaking his head in disbelief. "You really are something," he said, his tone caught between exasperation and amusement. "I've seen many attempts at taming her, but I never thought I'd witness someone actually succeed."

Lucavion raised an eyebrow, his smirk softening into a mockingly humble grin. "Oh, I don't know if I'd call it 'taming,' Marquis. Let's just say we've come to an understanding."

The Marquis let out a soft chuckle, his gaze shifting to Aether. "An understanding," he repeated, his tone faintly reverent. "Whatever you call it, you've done what no one else has. You've tamed this girl. Truly remarkable."

Valeria crossed her arms, her lips pressing into a thin line as she studied the scene. Aether, the horse no one could control, now stood calmly beside Lucavion as though she had always belonged there. It was baffling.

The Marquis turned back to Lucavion, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. "You do realize, though, that taming her is only the beginning. Preparing her for travel—gearing her—is an entirely different challenge. I trust you know how to handle that?"

Lucavion's smirk didn't waver. "Naturally," he replied with a casual shrug. "I wouldn't call myself a horse expert, but I know my way around a stable."

The Marquis arched an eyebrow, skepticism flickering across his face. "Is that so?" he said dryly. "Well then, let's see if your skills extend beyond coaxing her with fire and fancy words."

Lucavion grinned, his confidence unshaken. "Just watch, Marquis. I'll have her ready to go before you know it." With that, he turned back toward Aether, his movements fluid and assured as he approached her.

Valeria watched in silence as Lucavion began to prepare the horse, his hands deft and practiced as he inspected her bridle and saddle. Despite her skepticism, she couldn't deny his ease with the task. It was as though he had done this countless times before, each movement smooth and precise.

********

The stable was quiet except for the faint creak of leather and the soft snorts from Aether as Lucavion tightened the last strap of her saddle. His cloak, dark and lightly frayed at the edges, billowed faintly in the breeze as he adjusted it over his shoulders. Aether stood beneath him, her stance regal and composed, the very picture of a steed ready for battle—or adventure.

Nearby, Valeria, the Marquis, and Nadoka watched in silence. Nadoka's lips pressed into a firm line, her healer's instincts warring with her understanding of Lucavion's resolve. She had spent hours tending to his injuries, patching him up after his recent bouts in the tournament, and while he had made remarkable progress, she knew he wasn't fully healed. The strain of his endeavors still lingered in the faint tension around his eyes, the way he shifted his weight subtly to avoid aggravating his wounds.

"You shouldn't be riding yet," Nadoka finally said, breaking the silence. Her voice was steady but carried a hint of concern. "Your injuries haven't fully healed. Another day—maybe two—and you'll be in far better condition."

Lucavion glanced at her, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "I appreciate your concern, Miss Nadoka," he said, his tone light but sincere. "Really, I do. But I can't afford to waste any more time. There's too much at stake."

Nadoka's frown deepened, her arms crossing over her chest. "Too much at stake or just another excuse for recklessness? You may not care, but your body does. If you push too hard now, you'll only slow yourself down later."

Lucavion chuckled softly, swinging himself into the saddle with practiced ease. Aether shifted slightly beneath him, her movements smooth and unbothered. "You worry too much," he said with a teasing edge. "I've been through worse."

"That's not the reassurance you think it is," Nadoka muttered, though her tone had softened.

Lucavion smirked, adjusting the reins with an easy confidence. "Sitting still doesn't suit me, Marquis. There's a whole world out there, and it's not going to wait for me to recover."

The Marquis chuckled softly, his sharp eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and respect. "This is youth, I suppose," he said, his voice carrying a note of wistful approval. "Restless, reckless, and always charging ahead as if the world will fall apart if they stop for even a moment."

Lucavion grinned, tipping his head slightly in acknowledgment. "You say it like it's a bad thing, Marquis."

The Marquis stepped forward, his posture composed as always, but there was a warmth to his expression that softened his usual sharpness. Extending his hand, he met Lucavion's gaze squarely. "It was a pleasure meeting a young man like yourself. The world could use more of your kind… though perhaps with a touch more restraint."

Lucavion took the offered hand, his grip firm, his smirk softening into something more genuine. "Likewise, Marquis. And don't worry—I'll work on that restraint. Eventually."

The Marquis laughed quietly, releasing his hand. "See that you do. The next time we meet, I expect to see you in one piece. Not half-patched up by the likes of Nadoka here."

Nadoka rolled her eyes, though there was a faint smile tugging at her lips. "He'd be lucky to find another healer as skilled as me," she said dryly.

Lucavion glanced her way, his grin widening. "Truer words have never been spoken, Miss Nadoka. I'll be sure to remember you fondly every time I'm not bleeding to death."

"Let's hope those times are more frequent," she shot back, though her tone had lost its earlier edge.

"And let's tone it down a little….." As Marquis narrowed his eyes, Lucavion chuckled, turning his gaze to Valeria. For a moment, he studied her in silence, his sharp eyes searching hers. "Valeria," he said, his voice softening. "Try not to miss me too much."

Valeria scoffed, though her cheeks warmed faintly. "Don't flatter yourself. I'll be far too busy cleaning up whatever chaos you've left behind."

Lucavion leaned slightly in the saddle, his smirk returning to full force. "Good to know you'll be thinking of me."

Her eyes narrowed. "Only in the context of how much trouble you've caused."

The Marquis shook his head, stepping back with a wry smile. "And here I thought you two might part on civil terms. Youth indeed."

Lucavion laughed, adjusting his cloak as he straightened in the saddle. Aether shifted beneath him, her powerful frame exuding calm readiness. He glanced at the three of them one last time, his smirk tempered by a flicker of something deeper—gratitude, perhaps, or respect.

"Well then," he said, his voice light but carrying a weight that belied his usual nonchalance. "Until we meet again."

With a gentle nudge of his heels, Aether moved forward, her gait smooth and assured. The stable doors opened to the fading light, and Lucavion rode out, his silhouette framed by the golden glow of the setting sun.

The stable fell into silence as the doors swung shut behind him, the hum of his presence lingering like an unspoken promise. The Marquis let out a quiet sigh, shaking his head as he turned to Valeria and Nadoka.

"That young man," he said, his tone contemplative, "will either change the world… or burn it to the ground."

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Volume 3 – Sword Demon – End.