Chapter 17
The silvery chime of midnight had already swept over the Empire by the time Lucien Caelum Velebrandt's carriage passed through the final inspection point within the inner walls. Guided by enchanted lanterns that hovered silently above stone pillars, the Velebrandt convoy—comprising two luxurious carriages and a cohort of A-rank knights—glided through the shadowed elegance of the capital's innermost district.
The inner walls bore an almost sacred silence, disturbed only by the gentle clopping of the magically tamed steeds that pulled the Velebrandt carriages. Their dark flaming auras left shimmering hoofprints that lingered briefly on the cobbled roads, dissipating like smoke.
Eventually, the carriage slowed, then halted entirely before a grand iron gate adorned with intricate gold filigree in the shape of the Velebrandt winged lion. A pair of stationed guards, clad in black and silver armor, immediately moved into formation. Beyond them stood maids in soft burgundy uniforms and sharp-eyed knights bearing the Velebrandt crest stitched on their cloaks, their expressions unwavering.
With a synchronized creak and thud, the iron gates groaned open, their weight rumbling through the ground like a low growl awakening the still night. A gentle wind drifted in from beyond, brushing past Lucien's cheeks with a faint, cool whisper, like a mother's hand tucking in a child. The scent of blooming night-flowers filled the air—floral, sweet, and lightly spiced—carried on the breeze that rustled the trees lining the mansion's path.
Stretching out before them, a smooth cement pathway unfurled like a pale silver ribbon in the moonlight. On either side stood crystal-bloom trees with twisted ivory trunks, their branches draped with luminous blossoms that shimmered like stardust. Each petal glowed a soft twilight-blue, swaying gently as if dancing to a lullaby only they could hear. The gentle rustle of their leaves blended with the distant chirping of nocturnal birds, adding a quiet music to the scene. The twin moons, one ivory white and the other dusky blue rose, hung silently above like solemn guardians, casting a cool celestial light over the world below.
Inside the carriage, Lucien leaned against the windowpane, the cold glass pressing lightly to his cheek. His half-lidded eyes—one a calm gray, the other a smoldering red—reflected the glimmering path ahead. Sleep tugged at his limbs, but curiosity kept his gaze steady. The low hum of arcane enchantments pulsed softly through the carriage wood beneath him, like a heartbeat in tune with the world's magic.
And then, it came into view.
Rising beyond the path was the Velebrandt mansion nestled within the Empire's inner walls. It possessed an austere beauty—tall, elegant spires curled skyward, cloaked in dark obsidian stone that gleamed like oil under moonlight. Delicate silver veins traced across the outer walls, forming runes that pulsed faintly in time with the breeze, as though the building itself breathed—alive, ancient, dignified. Faint glimmers of protective wards hovered like fireflies near the windows, vanishing the moment they were looked at directly.
Lucien's breath misted slightly as he exhaled, his body warming in the cool air. He didn't speak, didn't need to. The sight, the sound, the feeling of the world enveloped him like a dream—one he had lived before, but somehow, tonight, everything felt deeper... more real.