"Doesn't matter now… Doing this will end everything I had built but it accomplished a bit I suppose…" The lanky and pale man muttered to himself as he shuffled through the entire dirtied residence, almost tripping over the bottles of liquor and booze that littered the floor.

"Too bad that goddamn brat just had to live. How lucky." the man spit on the wooden floor underneath that creaked under his weight.

Wiping his dirtied hands on his even dirtier clothes the man's fingers slowly dragged a large chest down stairs, it's insides rustled heavily with every step down. With a simple click the chest opens revealing a myriad array of runes and glyphs with varying colors that seemingly danced around the chest and room.

The man hurriedly looks upon the pile of bottles on the floor, repeatedly uncorking and smelling the contents. This process goes on until the right bottle is finally found, and he directly pours the purple liquid inside directly into the interior of the chest. The bottle flies through the air a second later with a thoughtless throw, banging against the wall and shattering into numerous pieces.

With the simple spurring of Mana the chest hymns into life as the purple liquid inside swirls into a whirlpool and darkens numerous shades of color. A light noise emanated from the whirlpool that bounced off of the walls repeatedly.

"That should do it. Hahh." The man emotionally sighed.

His fingers reached into his pocket and inside laid a single letter smaller than even a child's. The letter was adorned with a red colored wax and adorned within the wax was a caricature of a vicious viper. A light breeze flies by as the letter effortlessly falls into the miasma below, and disappears with a small purple flash of light.

The man's hands quickly closes the chest as his mana begins to burn within him, and the chest becomes a pile of broken wooden scrap in an instant. The room smelt of booze, reeked of dirt, and was now adorned with wooden spikes in the walls and ceiling. The stench could rattle even the most fierce sewer rats.

Once again the pale and lanky man whipped his hands in the air and rubbed them against his dirtied clothing.

An emotionless whisper paired with an empty laugh descended a second later.

"The death of Spion… Ha."

"You need to know your goddamn place."

The average height of the man in front of Viran did not give justice to the anger he withheld in himself. His savage, yet suave, looks were contorted in an anger that caused Viran's hands to nervously clench. Yet the young boy’s attitude only flushed deeper.

"I know you may feel… Gregory has some responsibility for this matter but I can't exactly trust you know, can I?" The Noble went on.

After Gregory had squealed like a pig their Father had come immediately, much to the dismay of Viran. Due to the recent assassination attempt on Viran Lord Idicium had gotten more cautious with letting weapons in his residence and even the guests he would receive in the estate, his cautiousness was on par with even the most paranoid tyrant. This resulted in Lord Idicium being too prepared to jump into action at any moment… Contrary to Lord Idicium's expectations, however, there was no betrayal of a retainer and Knight, there was no sudden attack from a hooded figure. It was only Viran with blood seeping out of him and Gregory knocked out on the floor in front of him.

It was naturally a shocking sight to the now furious Lord.

The Lord was able to reign in his anger due to the severity of his children’s injuries. The Lord quickly took matters into his own hands and brought the two children to the physician. Though after everything was said and done the Lord thought a therapist for Viran was better, he purposely neglected how Gregory was still in a better state than Viran those many weeks ago.

"House Axrid are the ones responsible. As I sat there with my hands tied I waited for my death and they talked all about it. So naturally Gregory deserves to be beaten like the dog he is. Too many died. I could’ve died.” Viran's eyes glared at his Father in front of him.

"I’m not done with Gregory. Not now. Not ever." His final verdict caused a frown to grow on Lord Idicium's face.

Viran definitely wanted to spill out everything he knew, but the boy knew he simply had no proof. All of the information Viran knew came straight from a ‘thing’ Viran was still doubtful of with no reliable way to back up his claims. Not to mention saying something too extravagant was also out of the question, that would only bring distrust. So Viran simply laid almost all the blame onto House Axrid.

None of the knights nor servants made it out alive, and Viran himself was a Noble anyways. Despite his harsh treatment in the estate, his opinion and what he deems ‘factual’ would be deemed more correct compared to a commoner’s anyways. Not to mention House Axrid was only a minor Baron House on the fringes of the South, investigating them would be fairly easy for House Idicium and the Houses affiliated with them would quickly cower. Even those Houses that were in on the assassination would back out instantly.

Of course, Viran seemed to be blessed by Lady Luck due to what was recovered in a burnt down residence shortly after he was out of the physician’s hands.

"How about Spion then? Letters detailing House Axrid’s involvement was found in the burned building and Spion was found nowhere to be seen." Viran continued.

"Spion is the tutor of Gregory… You sure your son wasn't convinced to do something about me?" Viran fought a smile that threatened to grow on his face. "I mean imagine~ that. The Spion that served you diligently for the past decade turns out to be a malicious bastard that tries to kill me.”

“You cannot deny this, Lord Idicium. Do you really think Gregory has no lasting attachment to House Axrid?”

“Hahh… If only we hadn’t put so much trust in a mercenary.” Viran wistfully said before putting his hands up and feigning a shocked expression. “Oh but by all means it makes sense! After all he had served this House like a loyal dog for nearly a decade! Of course some trust would be placed in him!”

The act Viran put on had no benefit to anything, in fact it only worsened the situation as a whole, but it felt good for him. The young boy spent years with a terrible Father and a terrible environment and after having experienced the loving comfort that Marcus’ group gave him, the boy was naturally seething in anger.

Especially now, the boy wanted nothing to do with this estate no longer.

“We’ll investigate this matter further. You will, of course, be punished severely for your actions.” Lord Idicium said in a flat tone.

It was times like these Viran wished that his Father showed him anything, even the anger that threatened to burst out of the old man.

“As you wish.” Viran spat through his teeth before leaving the room in a hurry.

The door made a twang as it closed behind the child, and Lord Idicium’s gaze wavered not the slightest in those moments. The steely gaze stayed glued to the door for some time.

“I guess it was always inevitable.” The Lord’s hands shifted towards the drawer and once opened the insides revealed a deep red velvet lining the entirety of the drawer. A golden glint shined on the golden medallion, its very presence emanated a powerful pressure on those who laid eyes upon it. Inscribed upon the medallion was the head of an Ox with strands of fire exiting its eyes.

Were Viran there to witness what was about to happen, he would only gaze upon in awe.

“Just as I had said.” The medallion spoke back to Lord Idicium in a terrifying voice, and an even more terrifying pressure laid upon the entirety of the room. “That boy is not wanted here. Although the other is… Lacking, it's better than the one born of sin.”

“...What would you have me do?” Lord Idicium asked with a gaze full of reverence.

Silence descended upon the room for a long time, longer that Lord Idicium would have wanted.

“Send the child elsewhere… This time makes sure his safety is guaranteed. Once his Day of Awakening comes, he’ll be detached from the family.”

Seeing no problem at all with what was said, Lord Idicium nodded his head lightly.

“What of the conspirators? This matter had almost completely humiliated our House… And I have doubts House Axrid and Spion are capable enough for this.”

“.... Spion needn’t be of worry anymore. As for House Axrid… Execute the Baron and his sons, the daughter’s fate will be left up for your digression.”

“That is all.” The pressure upon the room dimmed only for it to disappear completely a moment after. The voice, and its owner were gone.

Despite the absence, Lord Idicium still gave his regards.

“By your will… Craynor, Lord of the pyre and Father of my strength.”

Lord Idicium’s words, as reverent as they were, were ushered to truly someone of high standing.

“Lord Viran, have you finished preparing yourself?” A stone-cold gaze hit directly onto the back of Viran as he whirled around to meet the Knight’s gaze head on.

“Er… Yes.” Viran said in a soft tone before collecting a coat that laid upon the now bare chair.

Although Viran had been home for barely a week, he was now being sent elsewhere again. The boy wasn’t completely opposed to it, but some trauma was left on the road and he couldn’t help but feel restless. Around the young boy was the room he had spent most of his childhood in, except now the room was bare. The covers were taken down, the baubles and items Viran had collected until now had disappeared.

The boy left alongside the Knight out of the room, and his sight unconsciously looked into the interior of every room. But what awaited him was only a trivial sight, everything that hadn’t been taken down before was now taken down. Nothing was left adorning the walls and the servants already began to act as though his home was a simple storage space.

In the mirror Viran saw his Father, overlooking the entire residence. His Father truly looked out of place, it wasn’t often Viran would see his Father in his residence. Viran couldn’t help but closely watch the man, and adorned on his face was a strange look Viran didn’t quite understand. Trepidation? Anxiety? Forlornness?

Viran could only watch for a second, he was due to leave very soon. The mirror disappeared from his gaze, and now Viran directed himself forward.

Directed out near the gate was the familiar look of a convoy being prepared for Viran, though this time his bodyguards shouldn’t try to kill him.

Standing near the carriage that would be directed off shortly was Sir Leonard, his hand repeatedly rubbed his chin as he was in deep thought.

The young boy, barely nine years old and with umber-colored hair, loaded himself onto the seat and situated himself into a comfortable seat. His face contorted uncontrollably as his gaze lingered on the scabbard and sword that was laid in front of him. With a dark grainy blue color, the sword could barely reflect any light.

Viran grabbed the sword and put it slightly into his lap, his gaze looked towards Sir Leonard that sat opposite of him.

“I didn’t quite expect my exile to be like this.” Viran muttered to his teacher, to which he received a toothy grin.

Summer was long past and winter would soon arrive. The exile of Viran Idicium was decided.