[The Eastern Commerce District The Winter Solstice Rest]
The Imperial Zenith Academy was officially closed for the day to let new noble students acclimate to the freezing altitude.
Instead of resting at the estate, Arthur and I had walked down into the bustling Eastern Commerce District to pick up supplies.
The East was a vibrant, breathing machine of artificers and merchants, entirely different from the militaristic Capital.
As the sun began to set, enchanted glass lanterns automatically flickered to life, bathing the cobblestone streets in a warm amber glow. I watched ordinary children chase each other with cheap, wind powered mana toys.
Across the street, a burly blacksmith used intricate fire runes to heat his open forge, while couriers on wind enhanced horses blurred past us, carrying merchant messages between mountain towns.
"Hungry?" Arthur asked, stopping at a busy vendor's stal
He handed the merchant a low-grade mana crystal. "Two bags of crystal berries."
The merchant smiled brightly, handing over the glowing, frost-chilled fruit.
"Mana crystals are the lifeblood of the East," Arthur said, tossing a berry into his mouth as we walked toward the towering iron gates of the Academy.
"A single Sovereign grade crystal could purchase an entire Ducal estate out here. Wealth is power."
We stepped through the massive gates and into the Academy courtyard.
Even on a rest day, the grounds were packed. Students from all four territories mingled, vividly displaying the deep cultural divides of the Empire.
Northern nobles walked with rigid survivalist discipline, wrapped in thick white furs embroidered with dire wolf crests.
Eastern scholars sat on stone benches, tapping away at glowing crystal mana tablets.
The Southern heirs moved like politicians in tightly organized, whispering groups, while the Western students were already out in the freezing snow, loudly sparring with broadswords.
"The competition here is insane," eighteen year old Arthur muttered, gesturing subtly toward a tall, scarred upperclassman reading a tablet.
"See him? Rank One. He killed an A Rank magical beast entirely solo last year. And watch your back around the Northern kids. They are bred for war. Three hundred years ago, the Sword Saint Valdrake held the Northern Pass alone against twenty thousand invaders for seven days. They still worship that kind of brutality."
As we walked toward the administration building, my eyes were drawn to a massive, breathtaking structure at the very center of the Academy grounds.
It was a towering temple built of pure white marble and silver, dedicated to the Six Primordial Gods.
Hundreds of students passed beneath its gates, but my gaze caught on a massive, beautifully painted mural adorning the outer wall.
It depicted six winged Angels kneeling in pure devotion around a single, vacant throne, the empty Seat of Restoration.
A line of shivering pilgrims was leaving fresh winter flowers directly beneath the vacant seat, silently praying for the lost Sovereign to one day return.
My heart gave a strange, heavy thump in my chest.
Lyra, I thought, the image of her deep blue eyes flashing in my mind.
[The Orion Ducal Estate The Diagnosis]
I rushed back to the estate, my boots thudding heavily against the polished wooden floors as I entered the warm parlor.
Duchess Serene, Crown Princess Seraphina, and Kaelia were sitting around the roaring fireplace.
The heavy oak table was piled high with traditional Eastern cuisine steaming snow-fish stew, bowls of glowing crystal berries, and thick, incredibly rich mountain cheese imported straight from the Frost Peaks.
But nobody was eating.
The Chief Eastern Doctor stood at the head of the table, his face pale and lined with severe exhaustion.
"What is it?" I demanded, freezing in the doorway.
"Is Lyra alright?"
"The Princess is currently resting, and her immediate condition is stable," the Doctor bowed low.
"However... I must deliver deeply concerning news regarding the long term prognosis."
The Doctor looked at me, a terrifying mix of sympathy and dread in his eyes.
"Your Highness, the unborn twins' mana is growing at an unprecedented rate. The Triple Attribute signature is far stronger than we anticipated. Because Princess Lyra is only seventeen, her mana core has not fully matured. The sheer pressure of the babies' developing magic is creating a severe, life threatening imbalance."
The warm room fell dead silent. The crackling of the hearth suddenly sounded incredibly loud.
"Princess Lyra has been pregnant for roughly one month," the Doctor continued grimly.
"For the remaining eight months of her term, she is absolutely, unequivocally forbidden from using any active spells. Even a basic light spell could trigger a catastrophic mana clash between her and the children. I cannot guarantee that everything will go smoothly. She is facing a highly volatile, high risk pregnancy."
I gripped the wooden doorframe so hard the polished timber splintered beneath my fingers.
My knuckles turned stark white.
I knew the Crimson Siren potion had caused a miracle by allowing conception against all odds, but the physical toll it was actively taking on her seventeen-year-old body was terrifying.
My red mana flared dangerously in my chest.
I have to protect her. No matter what happens in this Academy, no matter who provokes her, she cannot be allowed to fight.
[The Northern Territory The Vane Ducal Castle]
While the East prepared for the Academy term, a massive, heavily armored Imperial carriage was rolling through the violent, blinding blizzards of the North.
Inside, five year old Leo and Mia had their faces pressed against the frosted glass, their eyes wide with wonder.
"Look, Mia! The snow is so deep!" Leo cheered, pointing at the massive, shifting white drifts.
Mia smiled, but she looked down at her lap, letting out a soft sigh. "It's pretty... but I miss Mom and Dad."
"Me too," Leo agreed, his bright smile fading slightly.
"But Dad told me I have to be brave and protect you until they come back!"
A deep, warm chuckle filled the carriage.
Emperor Aldric gently patted their heads.
"Do not worry, little ones. Your mother and father are thinking of you too. Now, prepare yourselves. We have arrived."
The carriage passed through the colossal iron gates of the Vane Ducal Castle.
Unlike the elegant, scholarly architecture of the East, this was a terrifying, militaristic fortress built out of jagged black stone and solid ice.
As the carriage doors opened, Duke Kael Vane was standing in the courtyard with his elite knights.
When Emperor Aldric stepped out, the Duke's scarred, arrogant face dropped in absolute shock.
The Emperor?! Vane's mind raced wildly. My spies swore he was tied up dealing with the Southern nobles! Why is he here?!
"Your Majesty!" Duke Vane quickly dropped to one knee, desperately masking his rising panic.
"W...We are incredibly honored by your presence. But we did not expect you to personally escort the children."
Emperor Aldric looked down at the Duke, his icy eyes piercing right through the man's pathetic lies.
"It is only natural for a grandfather to accompany his grandchildren to a festival," Aldric said, his voice colder than the Northern blizzard howling around them.
"Especially since the Second Prince is currently occupied in the East. You invited my grandchildren to your home, Duke Vane. Were my spies incorrect, or do you look displeased that I have come?"
"N...No! Not at all, Your Majesty!" Duke Vane sweated profusely, keeping his head bowed entirely to the snow.
Leo and Mia peeked out from behind the Emperor's massive, fur lined winter cloak.
"How are you, Uncle?" Leo asked politely, offering a small bow.
Duke Vane forced a painfully fake smile, though his eyes burned with pure, venomous hatred for the orphans who had stolen his own grandchildren's spotlight.
"The children's festival is being held in the Grand Winter Hall, Your Majesty," a Northern Knight said, stepping forward to escort them.
As they walked through the dark, echoing stone corridors decorated with massive dire wolf pelts, Mia gripped Leo's hand tightly. "Leo... I have a bad feeling about this place."
"Don't worry," Leo whispered back, his eyes hardening with the discipline I had patiently taught him.
"I am here to protect you. And Grandpa is here too."
[The Grand Winter Hall The Trap]
The heavy doors opened to a massive, opulent hall filled with the spoiled children of the Northern and Western nobility.
There were mountains of expensive sweets, glowing magical ice sculptures, and frantic, running servants.
As soon as Leo and Mia entered, the room went entirely quiet.
Six-year-old Gareth Vane, the Duke's grandson, marched right up to them.
He wore incredibly expensive white furs and a disgustingly arrogant sneer.
"So, these are the fake Royals," Gareth mocked loudly, making the other noble children snicker and laugh.
Leo and Mia didn't say a single word.
They stood perfectly still, their faces blank.
Suddenly, a slightly older boy stepped out of the crowd. It was Cedric, the seven-year-old grandson of Count Morland.
Wanting to impress Gareth, Cedric pulled his fist back and aimed a vicious, unprovoked punch right at Leo's face.
SWISH.
With terrifying, unnatural reflexes, Leo simply tilted his head.
Cedric's fist hit nothing but empty air.
Cedric stumbled forward, his momentum nearly causing him to fall flat on his face.
The noble children gasped in shock.
I had only trained Leo for two weeks, but the boy had soaked up my lethal combat instincts like a sponge.
Gareth's twin sister, Freya Vane, stepped forward, her face turning bright red with embarrassment and anger.
"You dirty commoner rats! You think you are better than us just because the Emperor adopted you?!"
Leo and Mia remained silent.
Their discipline infuriated the arrogant Northern brats even more.
"Hold him down!" Gareth ordered.
Cedric and two other older boys rushed forward, violently grabbing Leo's arms. Leo struggled, but he was heavily outnumbered.
Gareth grabbed Leo's right hand and shoved it completely flat against the searing hot metal of a magical heating stove in the center of the room.
The intense heat sizzled against Leo's delicate skin.
The pain was agonizing.
But Leo didn't scream.
He bit his lip so hard it bled, his eyes locked onto Gareth's in pure, unbroken defiance.
"Stop it! Let him go!" Mia cried, hot tears streaming down her face as she tried desperately to push Gareth away.
"Please don't hurt my brother!"
Freya grabbed Mia by her hair, yanking her back viciously.
"Shut up, you little beggar! This is what happens when trash pretends to be royalty! Your adoptive parents are nothing but jokes! The Second Prince is an ugly, cursed pig, and that pregnant wife of his is a filthy half-breed rat!"
BOOM.
The very second those insults left Freya's mouth, the atmosphere in the room violently changed.
A deadly, suffocating aura exploded from Leo and Mia.
It wasn't just the latent Budla Aditya magic sleeping in their veins; it was the absolute, murderous killing intent they had unconsciously inherited from watching me protect Lyra.
The air grew incredibly heavy. The ambient temperature in the room plummeted, freezing the moisture in the air.
Gareth and Cedric gasped for breath, instantly letting go of Leo's hand as genuine, primal terror struck their young hearts. The noble children took terrified, shaking steps backward.
But then, Leo closed his eyes.
He took a deep, shuddering breath, and the deadly aura vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
He pulled Mia safely behind him, calming himself down exactly like I had taught him.
A true knight controls his anger.
The noble children, realizing the terrifying pressure was gone, immediately felt deeply humiliated that they had been scared of two five-year-olds.
"You freaks!" Freya shrieked, raising her hand high.
SMACK!
Freya slapped Mia across the face with all her strength. "You are trash, and your parents are trash!"
CREAK
The massive, heavy iron doors of the Grand Winter Hall slowly pushed open.
Every single child in the room froze.
Emperor Aldric stood in the doorway.
His dark shadow stretched endlessly across the entire hall, swallowing the light.
The absolute, apocalyptic sovereign pressure radiating from his body was so terrifying that the magical heating stoves instantly extinguished themselves in pure, shivering submission.
Aldric looked silently at Leo's burned hand. He looked at the bright red mark on Mia's cheek.
His glacial eyes slowly locked onto Gareth and Freya.
"What a mess," the Emperor said. His voice echoed with a cold, demonic authority that promised absolute, unparalleled destruction. He walked slowly, methodically toward his grandchildren.
"Forgive me, Leo, Mia. I did not think things would turn out like this."