“Do you all want to know a secret?! Ira put me in charge of an army! Not the one you see walking around in the city, but a very, very, secret army! Ira’s been gathering members from all sorts of different worlds in his spare time. Ah, he also sent me to train in this really secret place. Should I tell you about it? I shouldn't tell you about it... I’m going to tell you about it, but don’t tell him I told you! The envoys call that place the Broken Well. I had to train so hard I wanted to cry my eyes out, but your aunt is way tougher than she looks. I managed to triumphantly push through. Oh, there’s also this…- I really shouldn’t say it but I’m going to anyway! There’s this boy in charge of the Broken Well and he’s really, really, strong! I couldn’t beat him no matter how hard I tried. You would never guess why he’s so strong so I’ll just tell you...- Hey! Get off of me! Hold on! Wait, wait! I’m sorry! Just don’t send me back to the Broken Well!”

-Harper spilling various secrets to Ira’s children right before she was abruptly snatched away by his envoys.

…

It didn’t take long for Casimir to catch up with the two swordmasters. He discovered they had stopped at some well-hidden manor with a few guards at the entrance. They appeared tense and for good reason, sending out six swordmasters only to have two return wasn’t a good omen.

“Here we are,” Casimir mumbled as he approached the guards.

“Is that him?!” One of them shouted before he drew his sword, causing a chain reaction of blades being unsheathed.

“Your one chance to leave starts now.” Casimir lifted his halberd and pointed it threateningly.

Though apprehensive, the men stood their ground; clearly, they feared their employer more than him.

“Well, don’t say you weren’t given the opportunity,” Casimir shrugged before stepping forward.

“They won’t be needing it.” A middle-aged man suddenly appeared as the group of guards parted to open up a path. He held a spear in his hand which was a sharp contrast to his noble-like clothes.

“Who are you?” Casimir asked with a raise of his eyebrow.

“I’m Morrison and apparently your brother has killed several of my-” Morrison tried to finish speaking, but Casimir leaped forward and swung his halberd violently. Surprisingly, a blue aura surrounded Morrison’s arms and legs as he jumped to the side, avoiding the blow.

“How impudent!” Morrison grew angry. He rotated the spear in his hands before returning the favor and rushing toward Casimir.

The aura covering his arms seemed to empower him as he sent out nearly a dozen quick thrusts with his spear.

Casimir was forced to dodge but was inwardly surprised by Morrison’s sudden manifestation of aura. He never thought his confrontation would lead him toward the very thing he was searching for. Unfortunately, his lapse in attention let Morrison seize the opportunity to send a kick to his side. Casimir was unprepared for the amount of strength delivered through a single strike and was thrown a few meters to the side.

While Casimir was temporarily stunned by the attack, Morrison spoke, “I may have mistaken you for your brother, but that isn’t a concern anymore. I’ll settle for killing either one of you.”

Morrison lunged toward Casimir as he finished speaking, poised to land a fatal blow until the latter caught the spear in his hand.

“You almost landed a good one,” Casimir spat mockingly. Veins began to appear on his forearm as he stopped the spear from going any further and, unsurprisingly, the shaft of the spear snapped under his grip.

“What?!” Morrison cried out.

It wasn’t as if there weren’t people with incredible strength roaming all over the continent, but very few if any could overpower even the most basic of aura users.

With the sudden realization of Casimir’s strength also came the hefty blade of a halberd that crashed into him. Even though Morrison raised an arm to block it, the sheer force behind the swing sent him flying much further than Casimir went from his kick. It was almost ironic that he ended up flying back into the manor he stepped out of.

After the initial impact of Morrison's body breaking through the wall the destruction seemed to continue with clouds of dust spilling out from the brand new entrance that was created by Morrison. From inside, the creaking of a now unsteady foundation filled the air which was otherwise silent.

“H-He did that… to Morrison?” A hired thug asked out of pure disbelief.

To a relatively normal person like him, it was no surprise he would see an aura user as the summit of all things when far bigger fish roamed the waters.

“Indeed I did,” Casimir replied indifferently. He was much too busy collecting himself, the muscles on his arms swelled while grotesque veins covered them entirely like a spider’s web.

Although he had a relatively deep reservoir of pure strength, it came at a cost. He found it to be more physically taxing and it even hampered his rate of regeneration. It was one of the reasons he felt far weaker than his siblings who could sustain their natural abilities for far longer.

With a long exhale, Casimir’s arms returned to normal and he approached the dumbstruck crowd of hired guards. By the time they finally realized they should move, Casimir had already swung his halberd, cleaving two in half with little effort while the others split off, fleeing in all directions.

Finding it too troublesome to chase, Casimir entered the building which was now in shambles. He found the two swordmasters from earlier now cowering near Morrison’s broken body. Miraculously, Morrison still managed to draw breath, though based on Casimir’s cold expression, it didn’t seem like he’d continue to do so for much longer.

“I’m looking for an aura technique,” Casimir said.

With leisurely steps, he walked over to the trio. He ignored the two swordmasters, finding that they weren’t a threat and instead stood over the bleeding Morrison who gasped for air.

“W-What?” Morrison clenched his teeth through the pain. As far as he could see, Casimir’s ability exceeded what the lower levels of aura manifestation could offer.

“You should have one, right?” Casimir asked, but his tone made it obvious that any insufficient answer wouldn’t end well.

“T-The chest… upstairs… behind the painting of… the flower field…” Morrison let out sharp breaths as a stinging pain filled his abdomen.

“Thanks.” Casimir smiled.

It seemed everything was going well until he lifted his halberd and slammed it into the floor. Morrison and the two swordmasters next to him flinched, but the weapon only struck the floor.

“I’ll leave this here,” Casimir spoke tauntingly before chuckling to himself.

The swordmasters trembled in humiliation while Morrison ground his teeth in agony. They became aware of just how much they feared Casimir when they failed to utter a single word, fearing he would react violently.

Paying no mind to them, Casimir strode up the stairs and entered Morrison’s quarters. Once he spotted the large painting on the wall, he briefly examined it.

“Mhm… It just looks like flowers to me.” He shrugged before tearing the picture down which exposed a false compartment.

Without much of a struggle, Casimir lifted the compartment open and found a fairly sizable wooden chest. There was a lock, but he simply tore it off and tossed it to the side before peering into the contents. There were ten gold coins, a few hundred silver, amulets, bracelets, gems, and other trinkets that were likely to hold immense value. However, the thing that drew Casimir’s interest was the scroll encased in an intricate bronze casing. As he unfurled it, several diagrams of figures were drawn with specific anatomy points highlighted as well as a corresponding piece of writing.

His eyes widened in excitement, but he controlled himself and carefully returned it to its casing. He slammed the chest shut and heaved it over his shoulder before returning downstairs only to find the two swordmasters attempting to carry Morrison out of the building.

“Hmm.” Casimir’s low exclamation made them immediately come to a halt.

A few heavy seconds of silence passed before he cracked a grin and shook his head.

“I’m in a great mood so you can go, but tell me where my brother headed.” He waved them away and grabbed his halberd with the intention of leaving.

“All we know is that he left Argos and headed west,” A swordmaster hurriedly replied.

Casimir nodded and strode past them, making it clear he didn’t plan on killing them.

“Just wait… I will make sure I find you and your brother,” Morrison whispered venomously. He was so wrapped up in his own rage that he didn’t notice Casimir had paused mid-step, turning around to face them once more. His golden yellow eyes turned cold as he set his gaze on them.

“Morrison!” The female swordmaster’s face turned into one of helplessness.

“Put him down.” Casimir gently placed the chest on the ground and walked directly toward them. He rotated his halberd like an eager executioner while his gaze seemed to pierce through Morrison.

“What?! Didn’t you take everything?! Are you going back on your word?!” Morrison felt there was no way Casimir could hear him but found his sudden change in demeanor too coincidental to be anything else.

“Put him down,” Casimir repeated.

The two swordmasters hesitantly placed Morrison onto the ground as he began to thrash and shout.

“Wait! Don’t just let him kill me! I-I saved both of you, have you forgotten?!” He pleaded.

Casimir silently made a few practice swings as he stood over Morrison, lining the blade of his halberd up with the base of the latter’s neck.

“Hold on! I have connections in this city!”

“Don’t need ‘em,” Casimir replied.

“Stop-”

Morrison could no longer barter for his life as Casimir’s halberd cleaved his head away cleanly. The two swordmasters flinched before staring listlessly at the headless body.

“You two want to add anything?” Casimir he asked, poking the closest swordmaster with the butt of his halberd.

“No?” He cocked his head to the side inquisitively before continuing, “Never hurts to be sure.”

Since there didn’t seem to be anything left for him to do, Casimir quickly grabbed the wooden chest and left the area. His conflict was sure to draw the attention of many. To his advantage, Morrison had made sure that most guards would keep away, but they were bound to grow suspicious as the deaths of the various swordmasters as well as Morrison himself began to spread.

…

A few hours passed in Argos as disorder interrupted the usual flow of the day. It wasn’t too odd to hear that someone had been killed or assassinated, but the amount of death happened too rapidly for some to process. Especially when Morrison, an aura master, and a prolific figure in Argos’ underworld, was among those who died.

The only people who weren’t too interested in the shocking development would be those new to the city. That, of course, included Horace and Gwendolyn Ravenport who both were moping inside of a cheap inn.

The two quietly sat at the table without sharing a single word. Horace frowned with guilt before digging through his coin purse, finding his silver to be in short supply. The Uncle and Niece both let out sighs at the same time.

“Gwendolyn… I-”

“No, Uncle, I assumed that our previous ties were strong enough to establish a new trade contract. I would never have guessed that there were outside parties wishing for our territory to fall past the point of no return so they can pick us apart.” Gwendolyn spoke with resignation, feeling like the conclusion of the Ravenport family lay ahead.

“Gwendolyn,” Horace spoke, wanting to at least provide words of comfort but could only manage to utter her name.

“It’s fine, Uncle. We should depart at first light and at least put the last of our silver into sustaining the territory for as long as we can manage.” Gwendolyn put on a brave face, though there was an obvious sadness in her cloudy eyes.

“I take it things didn’t go too well with your merchant friend?” Casimir’s said as he approached the table.

“Ah, Sir...- Casimir,” Gwendolyn showed a flash of hope before recalling his condition. “... It appears that our partnership won’t come to fruition. We failed to establish a trade contract and so our territory will go unfunded.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” Casimir placed the halberd and wooden chest at his feet before joining them at the table.

“I’m sorry, but is there a reason for that filthy cloak?” Horace frowned as he examined the tattered piece of cloth that could barely be called a cloak.

“Yeah, I’m feeling a bit cold,” Casimir replied.

“Are you serious?” Horace’s face showed pure disbelief. Casimir had worn nothing but a leather cuirass when they first met and slept through the night with nothing but a pelt underneath him. To say he was cold at the moment was completely unbelievable.

“Sure I am.” Casimir didn’t even blink as he lied which drove Horace into even more of a frustration.

Before the incensed uncle could argue further, Casimir spoke first, “So what exactly happened with your trade contract?”

“It sounded very generous at first,” Gwendolyn started. “In exchange for lowering our tax on imports, we would be granted a steady trade route. There was even an advanced loan to help fund the local shops within my family territory.”

“Why didn’t you accept then?” Casimir questioned, figuring there had to be a catch or else the two wouldn’t have been sulking.

“The stipulation that drove us away was when we were asked to leverage the deed to several key pieces of land we own. It’s quite obvious the merchant involved expected us to desperately accept those conditions, but the scheme was quite clear. Since the flood of goods was to be solely controlled by an outside party, they could forgo shipments while saying they were robbed.”

“Ah, I get it now.” Casimir’s eyes flashed with realization. “The merchants could stall until they were sure you wouldn’t be able to gather the full amount needed to pay back the loan. They’d be able to easily take control of a majority of your territory and could easily get the rest from there on.”

“You’re sharper than you appear, young man.” Horace gave backhanded praise.

“You wouldn’t know, but there is a large focus on study within the City of Ir’rah.”

“Oh, here we go again with Ir’rah.” Horace rolled his eyes.

“The City of Ir’rah,” Casimir corrected him, continuing on in a scholarly manner. “It is important to make the distinction clear when you say it like that. Ir’rah is the deity but the city shares the same name.”

Gwendolyn softly laughed while Horace gave up on replying.

“You are very strange, Casimir.” Gwendolyn managed to smile.

“I could say the same about both of you.” Casimir retorted, leaning back into his chair.

He contemplated his next step after getting his hands on an aura technique. Staying in Argos wasn’t a viable option after killing Morrison. His appearance didn’t lend to keeping a low profile, so leaving was his only option.

The only remaining question was where he would go next? It went without saying that a relatively calm place to learn the aura cultivation technique would be the most ideal. That’s where Gwendolyn and Horace came in.

“... If I may ask, what will you do now, Casimir?” Gwendolyn asked.

“You know, I think I want to go and see the Ravenport Territory.” Casimir grinned.

“We wouldn’t be able to pay you properly, young man,” Horace chimed.

“Not only that, but the Ravenport Territory won’t be ours for much longer given the circumstances.”

“Lucky for you, I have a solution for that.” Casimir’s smile deepened.

“Do you?!” Horace immediately grabbed onto the hope Casimir offered.

“Yeah…” Casimir suddenly stopped smiling and turned his eyes toward a corner of the room where a cloaked man sat, nursing a mug.

“Why don’t you come over?” Casimir called out to him.

The man immediately stood up and approached the table before bowing to Casimir respectfully.

“I offer my deepest greetings, Son of Ir’rah,” The reverence shown by the cloaked man didn’t go unnoticed to either Gwendolyn or Horace.

“I assume someone already went to tell Liliara of my whereabouts, right? Why don’t you just take me to her?” Casimir got directly to the point.

“Of course, I expect the Sovereign will be pleased to see you, Son of Ir’rah.”

“Uh, Casimir, just who is-” Horace immediately held his tongue when a pair of reptilian eyes bore into him from under the cloak. The hood obscured the man’s facial features, but his eyes were clear to see. The amber colored irises were contracted into an icy glare as they gazed into the very depths of Horace’s being.

“Ah,” Horace groaned under the immense pressure transferred through a simple gaze.

“Let him be,” Casimir reprimanded the cloaked Dragonkin.

“Forgive me, Son of Ir’rah.” The Dragonkin immediately bowed toward Casimir without a care for the eyes of others.

“It’s alright, just please stop bowing and take me to my sister.”

“Your sister?” Gwendolyn repeated, unaware of the brief intimidation applied to her Uncle.

“I will immediately take you to the Sovereign.” The Dragonkin emphasized the last part as to drive it into the ears of Horace and Gwendolyn.

“Please, just hurry up.” Casimir sighed.

“Right away, Son of Ir’rah.” The Dragonkin bowed again.

“Come on.” Casimir stood up, gesturing for Horace to follow.

“Ah, I’ll guide you, Lady Gwendolyn.” Horace helped his niece to her feet and followed Casimir.

…

Nearly a half day later, Horace and Gwendolyn were back in their carriage and traveling the roads again. The only difference now, other than the addition of Casimir, was the several cloaked figures flanking both sides of the carriage. Horace found it strange that they managed to keep up with the carriage while walking without showing the slightest amount of exhaustion. Though, after his first encounter with a Dragonkin, he didn’t wish to ask about it.

“What does the term ‘Son of Ir’rah’ even mean? I can at least tell it is something respectable with the way you were addressed.” Gwendolyn asked when she could no longer take the gnawing sense of interest.

“It’s… hard to explain.” Casimir smiled wryly. “It carries a lot of weight, at the very least.”

“Is it like a title granted by a noble?” Gwendolyn’s words drew the attention of the Dragonkin walking with them as they all looked in her direction, their eyes oozing with hostility.

Although she couldn’t see, they were restraining themselves as much as they could. The urge to punish her for comparing Casimir to a lowly noble burned within them, but it died out as Casimir simply waved them off.

“That’s not a bad way to look at it, but it’s a bit more important. At least, to those familiar with the city.”

“Do you mean to say you are equivalent to a prince?” Horace asked cautiously only to receive another volley of threatening stares.

“You could say that...” Casimir trailed off.

“Amazing, I never knew you were such a person.”

“Yeah, well-” Casimir suddenly stopped speaking, finding he had arrived.

Liliara’s Imperium sat right in front of the carriage. Hundreds of people, chained at the ankles, were in the process of building a stone wall around the main entrance of the small city.

“Do not stray.” A Dragonkin said to Horace before they entered.

Horace nodded with a grim expression, finding the condition of the people here to be terrible, far worse than the Ravenport Territory. Oddly enough, there were more peasant-like citizens inside, but they weren’t chained at all and seemed free to go wherever they pleased.

“Hold.” A Dragonkin halted the carriage as a row of carts passed.

Rocks that were clearly mined out from a different location were being brought to the wall to serve as material. Horace could plainly observe the faces of those pushing the carts along, finding them to be the same as the people working on the wall at the entrance.

“Are these people slaves?” Horace quietly asked.

“I don’t know,” Casimir replied before continuing with a serious look on his face, “Listen to me very carefully, this is my sister’s territory. Do not bring in any values or expectations you’ve become accustomed to because they mean nothing to her. If you anger her, the consequences are beyond my control.”

“We will make sure be courteous and respectful right, Uncle?” Gwendolyn spoke in reply.

“...Y-Yes, milady,” Horace responded belatedly.

After the carriage was led into the grounds of Liliara’s Manor, Casimir stepped out first, feeling every drop of blood in his body resonate as his sister’s presence became extremely clear. He looked up toward the Manor’s balcony and saw her standing there.

Like a battle-hardened general, she with immense composure, but as she peered toward Casimir, her face softened as a beautiful smile appeared on her face. Her red eyes, a feature none of her siblings shared, curved into two joyful crescents.

“Liliara,” Casimir whispered as a smile began to creep on his face.

“Casimir,” Her words were laced with happiness as they reached his ears.

And just like that, the first reunion between siblings was shared by Casimir and Liliara.