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[PRESENT]
Raven snapped from his recollection, his expression briefly shadowed by the weight of that memory.
"That kid's way of thinking has always been different," he continued. "Most dimensional travelers are driven by revenge, and many of them eventually lose themselves because of it."
He let out a quiet breath.
"But Eclipse… he chose to live. Not for himself alone—but because of someone else's wish."
'And his biological mother… she is different as well.'
That thought crossed Raven's mind, though he did not voice it aloud.
'I just hope… that this decision will help him in the long run.'
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LOCATION: MARQUIS CHEVALIER HOUSEHOLD
HEADMASTER'S OFFICE
"I thought we'd get to see something interesting. Little Three seemed different earlier… but he didn't do anything to that servant. What a shame~~~~"
The voice belonged to a young man with ginger-colored hair and forest-green eyes. His tone carried a teasing lilt as he leaned back lazily, scanning the room with an unmistakably playful air.
The others present could only groan inwardly in annoyance. They knew full well that he had only attended this meeting out of sheer curiosity and a desire for entertainment.
"This is not the time for games, Harrison! Try to be serious for once!"
Another voice cut in sharply, snapping at the carefree young master.
HARRISON WYNFRED CHEVALIER—the second young master of the Marquis Chevalier household. At nineteen years old, he carried himself with an easygoing demeanor, free from the burdens that came with inheriting the family's title.
Unlike his elder brother, responsibility did not weigh him down, and he spent much of his time indulging in his fondness for mischief and theatrics.
Harrison puffed his cheeks slightly, pouting at the one who had scolded him.
"Touche! You're no fun at all, Felicity~~~"
The young woman standing opposite him exuded elegance. Her long auburn hair fell in soft waves, and her jade-colored eyes glinted with sharp intelligence—though her shade differed slightly from Harrison's.
FELICITY THORIA CHEVALIER—the only daughter and eldest young lady of the household. At seventeen, her upbringing had molded her into someone far more mature than her age suggested.
Where Harrison was playful, she was disciplined; where he thrived on chaos, she preferred order.
Their opposing personalities often led to heated clashes.
At his teasing remark, Felicity felt irritation surge through her veins. Of all people in the household, Harrison was the one she found the most difficult to tolerate.
"Why you—?!"
Before she could finish her retort, another voice intervened, firm yet controlled.
"Enough, both of you. Harrison, do not provoke your sister. And Felicity, exercise some patience. You are a young lady—do not forget that."
The authority in that voice was impossible to ignore.
Both Harrison and Felicity turned their attention toward the speaker—their elder brother, who had remained silent until now.
He stood there with a gentle smile… one that sent an inexplicable chill down their spines.
Despite its warmth, they both knew better than to be deceived by that expression.
Neither of them dared to defy him.
Felicity clicked her tongue softly, crossing her arms as she looked away.
"Tsk. Then let's return to the matter at hand," she said, regaining her composure. "What should we do about this, Elder Brother… Altron?"
ALTRON ZERUX CHEVALIER—the eldest young master and the rightful heir to the Marquis Chevalier title. At twenty-two, he bore a striking resemblance to their father, save for the difference in hair color, which he had inherited from their mother.
To the outside world, Altron was the embodiment of a refined gentleman.
In truth, however, he was no different from the Marquis himself.
Ruthless. Calculating.
And unwaveringly loyal to the Empire.
"We will wait," Altron stated calmly. "Let us see what Little Three intends to do next."
A subtle glint passed through his eyes.
"He may provide us with something unexpected… given the changes I've already observed in him."
His gaze shifted toward the figure seated at the center of the room.
"…Am I wrong, Father?"
For a moment, the room fell silent.
The man they all addressed as "Father" had yet to speak, silently observing the exchange between his children.
"…Hm."
The low hum carried authority.
"I have noticed the changes as well," he said at last. "Your elder brother is correct. We should observe for now."
His tone was measured, thoughtful.
"And regarding that servant…" he continued, his gaze shifting briefly toward Harrison, "conduct a thorough investigation of her background. I already have my suspicions, but we will proceed only with concrete evidence."
Harrison gave a lazy salute, though a flicker of interest crossed his eyes.
"And if Little Three makes a move," the Marquis added, his gaze turning toward Felicity, "it will be your responsibility to handle the aftermath and ensure the matter is properly covered."
Felicity inclined her head slightly.
"Understood."
The air in the room grew heavier, filled with unspoken calculations and quiet anticipation.
Both of the younger siblings rose from their seats in unison and placed their right hands over their left chests, a gesture of formality and loyalty, as they acknowledged the command issued by their father. Their movements were precise, disciplined—befitting members of the Chevalier household.
"As you ordered, Marquis."
The air in the room settled into a tense stillness after their response.
Altron then stepped forward slightly, his posture straight as he addressed the man seated at the center. "Father… would you prefer that I personally speak with Little Three?"
The man before them appeared to be in his late fifties, yet his bearing carried a vigor that often misled others into mistaking him for someone far younger—sometimes even confusing him with his own son due to their strikingly similar features. The only clear distinction between them lay in the difference in their hair color.
AUGUSTUS RYNUS CHEVALIER—the current head of the Marquis Chevalier household.
Within the STELLARUS EMPIRE, he was known by a name that echoed across battlefields and noble courts alike—the IRON-BLOODED SWORDMASTER. His reputation had been forged through countless wars fought in service of the Empire.
The Chevalier household itself stood as one of the oldest noble lineages in the empire. For generations, its members had taken to the battlefield, carving their legacy through blood and steel.
Their contributions in war had earned them honor and prestige, solidifying their standing as pillars of strength within the realm.
They were known as the GUARDIAN HOUSEHOLD—the household of war heroes.
At Altron's suggestion, Marquis Augustus merely shook his head, his expression unreadable.
"There is no need," he replied. "Let your mother handle that matter."
His tone was calm, but beneath it lay something contemplative.
'Besides… the recent changes in Little Three… they are far more unsettling than anything else.'
That thought lingered in his mind.
More than anything, what disturbed him the most was that he could no longer read his youngest child as he once had. That alone was enough to make him uneasy.
As the silence stretched, Augustus found his thoughts drifting back—recalling an encounter that had taken place more than a month ago.
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