The strength within the neighing horses left Moulin in a daze of wonder. To be honest... He had only ridden a horse once before. Specifically, the original soul of the body did. As his silver eyes stared at the black horse brought to him by one of the Dragor sentinels. The horse looked tame. It's long mane falling in thick dark curls as it fell on its neck. Moulin silently curled the dark strands around his finger.

His other hand, unconsciously touching the void pouch given to him by his brothers. He was gone for an hour and he already missed them. His silver eyes glanced at Snow who was stealthily rolling on the grass.

Currently, they were all gathered around a teleportation pearl within the vast grasslands around the outskirts of Thaeria's west. It was especially windy. White clouds overlaying the vast skies. There was a sense of freedom as Moulin stood. The grass reaching up to his ankles. If Moulin wasn't wearing boots, he wouldn't mind running barefooted as far as he could with the cool wind swirling around him. It would be perfect. From afar, one could see the beautiful mountain ranges tenaciously grabbing the attention of the group occasionally. It was too breathtaking to ignore.

"U-um..."

Moulin frowned as soon as he found the voice familiar. He was resisting the urged the punch the persistent fellow who kept wanting to start a conversation with him no matter how much Moulin ignored him. It was getting in Moulin's youth. Callun didn't seem to mind the youth's scorn.

Moulin had finally remembered the bastard. The little weakling whom Moulin met at the first guild trial who relied on his minions to do his job. Moulin was confused. Surely, Callun was aware that Moulin had kicked his ass so why did he suddenly wish to speak to him, to become close. Unless he was a masochist, it would be reasonable. Moulin raised his brows. Was he really?

Moulin sighed internally. Rowan had returned to Azuran with Relena because of some unfinished business they have to take care of. For the last hour, the rest were waiting patiently around the teleportation pearl. Awaiting the return of their leaders.

At the corner of his eye, Moulin could see a few sentinels of dragor with their white-red uniforms snickering amusingly as they watched their friend, Callun, desperately trying to approach Moulin. Moulin furrowed his brows. How was this entertaining?

"What do you want?" Moulin finally spoke without turning around to face the lad.

Callun's eyes brightened intensely, he stammered as he replied. Desirous joy bubbling inside him. "A-Are you having trouble with your horse?"

"No..." The reply was direct as Moulin resumed to ignore him once again.

"Oh..." Callun's expression didn't fall. Surely, there was something he could help him with. "It looks to be your first time riding a horse... Perhaps, I could be of assistance?"

"..." Moulin turned and gave him a suspicious look. How did he know? Was it obvious? No, it couldn't be...

Held under that cruel stare, Callum felt flutters in his stomach instead of nightmarish fear. The fierce look was as fearful as his mother's. Callun was never interested in docile women, especially aphrodites who was known to be extremely silent and timid. He found it detesting. However, he was wholly attracted to beauty and spite. Something like his mother had always carried. It was exhilarating to see a genuinely beautiful person who would dare to go against him. With the strength even much powerful than him, he felt satisfied to even kiss their footprints. Very unlikely for a nobleman.

Moulin was exactly that person.

"I don't-"

"Hey, why are you always bothering him?"

A voice interrupted Moulin's words. Silver's eyes shifted his gaze to his fellow Leonile sentinels. One was one of his seniors while the other was Moulin's dear friend, Jagra. They have been secretly observing Callun and they knew the sentinel had vulgar motives for Moulin. From those aristocratic amethyst eyes alone, they could tell.

Callun didn't like the sudden interruption. He lifted his chin arrogantly and stared at the two fools. He recognized the other one seemed to be Moulin's friend. Nevertheless, he disliked him. "I don't believe our conversation is any of your business."

"He's one of us and clearly you are bringing him discomfort." Jagra stepped beside Moulin.

Seeing this, Callun could not contain the anger in his eyes. He took an intimidating step forward as he glowered at Jagra. "People like you should not meddle with matters of the high-born. Were you not disciplined? I should cut off your tongue and let you bleed..."

Jagra gnashed his teeth as he glared at Callun fearlessly. People like us?! Does he think he's god?! Bastard.

"Little man..." Callun's friends chuckled amusingly as they stepped behind Callun. One wrapped an arm around Callun's neck playfully as he gave Jagra a glance. "Our friend here is just enamored by this aphrodite. You should not intrude on them. Your aphrodite and Callun here are both noblemen. It's common for them to need intimacy privately." He laughed.

Moulin frowned. Jagra was seething and the other Leonile sentinels began to step forward. They didn't like it when other guilds openly disdain their own guild members.

"Moulin was it?" Another of Callun's friends spoke. He daringly stepped close to Moulin. "You shouldn't be so cold to Callun. The guy really likes you. Aren't aphrodites supposedly submissive and timid? Why are you acting so differently?"

Moulin's frown deepened but he remained calm. He wanted to murder the man in front of him.

Before he could speak a word, a bright light flashed, catching all of their attention.

"Hm, What's all this?" Relena's voice entered every sentinel's ears. "The atmosphere is unusually tense. Did I miss anything exciting?"

None made a sound, refusing and hesitating to answer the question. Moulin suppressed a snort as he and the others stepped away from Callun's group. He spotted Rowan casually walking towards them with an unsettled expression.

The two sides reluctantly retreated. It would not be right to fight infront of their leaders.

Moulin squinted his eyes when he noticed someone tall walking behind Rowan. He was wearing Leonile uniform with elegance.

"We have another member joining the task?" Jagra whispered confusingly.

Rowan stood before his members and furrowed his brows, noticing the frowns on their faces. A thought entered his mind and he glanced at Relena's group, chattering loudly. They must've argued. Nevertheless, Rowan gestured to the man behind him, "We have a late member joining us for this task. His name is Tarohn." He called one sentinel and ordered, "Go get him his horse."

While others introduced themselves to Tarhon, Moulin stood behind. Snow was sitting beside his feet with a growl.

...

A corner of Moulin's lips lifted. His silver eyes layered with amusement.

The man was tall with a built figure. He wore his uniform handsomely. Undeniably, he was lasciviously attractive. With his dark hair as black as midnight and crimson eyes as red as blood, his relaxed countenance was strikingly desirable. The muscles beneath that thick fabric and leather looked visibly firm. Explosive strength hid beneath them. His stature was something Moulin finds unquestionably familiar.

Moulin didn't need to think deeply to not recognize the man.

For a moment, their eyes clashed. Moulin narrowed his eyes as he smirked. He slightly lifted his chin, crossing his arms. 'Tarohn' smirked in return, his red eyes dazzling with intrigue. 'It seems he was exposed."

Moulin restrained a smile, "How interesting..."

He was unaware that his expression was caught by a particular admirer with flowering amethyst eyes.

..........

"Hup!"

The sentinels began to hop on their horses. The loud neighing of horses could be heard from afar.

Moulin picked up snow and placed him inside a pocket-like compartment hanging on the saddle. It was just the right size for the little brat so he could pop his head out and enjoy the view while they ride. With his head and paws peeking out of the pocket. His beady eyes looked around in excitement. Moulin could tell Snow had liked the bag.

Moulin was about to step on the stirrup of the saddle when he realized he was too short to hop on. He remained calm and tried again.

"Do you need help?"

At the sound of the voice, Moulin exhaled. He restrained the urge to groan out loud. This guy was really testing his patience. A dangerous light flashed in his silver eyes as he coldly glanced at Callum

"No..."

Callun shivered. His gaze turned even softer and gentler, "It wouldn't be a problem at all." Eagerly reaching out his hands towards the youth, Callun stepped closer to Moulin. "Here, I will lift you up..."

Callun's friends whistled like drunkards rooting for their friend as they see him off to flirt with an innocent gal. Jagra and the others immediately frowned. They still wouldn't shut up?

Rowan noticed his sentinel's unsettled expressions and turned to look at the cause of it. When he saw Callun trying to make a move on Moulin, his eyes instantly constricted.

Shit!

He whipped his head to Tarohn, only to find that the new sentinel had disappeared from his side. A heavy foreboding appeared in his stomach as he returned his gaze to where Moulin was. Tarohn was already making his way towards Moulin and Callun with long strides. The heaviness of his footsteps flattened the grass on his footsteps. It looked like a storm had enveloped the man.

Before Callun could touch him, Moulin instantly scowled. Callun flinched.

"Touch me and you lose your hand..." Moulin hissed. Feeling his person of comfort appearing beside him, Moulin took Tarohn's hand unconsciously and Moulin lifted himself on the horse seat with the help of the red-eyed man.

The action was swift and short by the two people. It was as if they were in synced, minds linked together. There was no pause or hesitance during the seconds.

Only after a few seconds, Moulin had realized the scene that had just transpired. He blinked down at the dark-haired man beside his horse. "T-Thank you..."

Embarrassment washed over Moulin. His face turned flushed. Why was he acting like a darn maiden?! Stuttering like a lovestruck fool in front of all these people! Moulin wanted to bury himself.

His silver eyes narrowed at Hadrian in his guise.

'Tarohn' gave a flirtatious smile. His smile was genuine. Truly, he was enjoying the expressions on Moulin's face. "It is my pleasure."

Jagra: '...' What did I just witnessed?

Snow: Another Bad Man!

As for the other Leonile Sentinels they were relieved to see the look on Callun's face. The young master's arrogant face, contorted into outrage and disbelief. Watching the shattering pride of the arrogant man, greatly gave them a sense of satisfaction. Their impression of the new sentinel turned even better.

Rowan only stared dumbly. Revising the situation into a show of affection, it was impressively unusual. His Lord really was something.

Lord Hadrian, who currently goes with the name 'Tarohn', was smiling. The guise was the work of a special artifact that enables him to alter his looks and become unrecognizable to the people. Aside from Rowan and his lover, no one was able to recognize him.

His eyes darkened into a deeper shade of red. A perilous gold flickered in his eyes as he eyed the man who dared to touch his lover. No one had noticed his breath turning harsh. His expression appeared dangerously calm on the surface but within, there was a surging pool of black. Black and vicious. A tar-like bitterness. It was nasty and conniving. Almost cracking the shackles of patience. All were caused by the man that was imprisoned within his gaze. Hadrian wanted nothing more than to rip him to shreds. Cut off his limbs and let the worms feast on his flesh. Let parasites wine on his blood.

The sound of thunder noised over the grass plains. The skies had darkened so hastily every soul was confused about the shifting weather.

Only the Leonile Sentinels knew the cause of the sudden shift of the weather. They all looked up at the sky with complicated thoughts. Moulin didn't follow as the others did. His gaze was solely focused on the lord below him. There was concern within his silver eyes yet there was also thrill. He could not help it. In this situation, of course, he knew the cause of Hadrian's anger.

He pressed his lips together, surprising a smile.

Was he jealous?