Vale stepped forward, his boot echoing softly as it touched the stone floor of the library.
The structure was circular in form, yet utterly colossal, rising and twisting upward like a wicked spire carved by stone and time itself. Endless staircases spiraled along the inner walls, branching into different levels of the tower and disappearing far above into shadow. Bridges and narrow walkways connected shelves and platforms at impossible heights, giving the entire place a sense of organized chaos.
Massive bookcases stretched in every direction, filled with countless volumes whose spines shimmered faintly with enchantments. Between them stood glass cases and sealed displays containing artifacts that seemed almost randomly placed, ancient weapons, fractured crystals, mechanical relics, and objects whose purpose Vale couldn't quite guess.
He slowly tilted his head upward, his eyes widening.
Suspended in the vast open space at the center of the tower were the skeletal remains of an ancient beast.
Its bones were enormous, pale, and worn smooth by age. The creature's shape was unmistakably draconic, yet something about it felt off. The skull was elongated, the jaw too narrow, the ribs flaring outward like the arches of a cathedral. Its spine stretched upward as if it had once reached for the heavens themselves.
Vale swallowed.
"A drake…?" he muttered quietly.
He wasn't sure. Whatever it had been, it felt older than legends, older than the stories humanity told itself to feel safe.
Drago continued inside without hesitation, walking as though this impossible place were nothing more than a familiar hallway. Eskar followed beside Vale, his azure eyes wide with awe, his grip tightening slightly around the egg he carried close to his chest.
Vale kept looking around, trying and failing to take everything in.
That was when he noticed movement.
People moved along the staircases above and below them, ascending and descending with practiced ease. One man clad in a refined leather suit stopped mid-step and stared downward.
Not at Vale.
At Drago.
A woman on a nearby balcony noticed as well. Then another. And another.
Within moments, every single person in the library had stopped what they were doing.
All eyes turned downward.
All eyes were fixed on the old man.
Vale felt a chill crawl up his spine seeing their gazes.
Drago glanced around once, then let out a long, weary sigh.
"For the love of," he muttered before raising his voice.
"Get back to work, will you?!"
The command echoed through the tower.
For a brief moment, no one moved.
Then, almost in unison, the scholars and explorers returned to their tasks. Pages turned again. Boots resumed their steady rhythm against stone. Artifacts hummed softly once more as the library returned to life.
Drago pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Hooligans," he muttered under his breath.
He stopped roughly a dozen meters from the exact center of the tower.
Vale followed, the awe still clinging stubbornly to his expression. He looked upward and noticed something strange, no staircases were obstructing the space directly above them. The entire vertical span of the tower stood open, stretching from the floor to the distant ceiling.
'Why isn't he doing anything?' Vale wondered.
He glanced at Eskar, who met his gaze and shrugged faintly, just as confused.
Vale sighed and finally spoke.
"Sorry, sir… but what exactly are we waiting for?"
Drago turned his head slightly, his expression indifferent.
"Nothing, really," he replied calmly. "I just didn't feel like calling him until now."
He turned his gaze upward, toward the unseen heights of the tower.
Then he drew in a breath and raised his voice, deep, commanding, and resonant enough that it seemed to stir the very air.
"Ivor," he called. "I'm back. Get down here, we have guests."
Vale crossed his arms and looked up, waiting.
Nothing happened.
Seconds passed.
Vale let out a quiet sigh filled with confusion and disappointment,
And then something fell.
His breath caught as a figure dropped straight down through the open center of the tower, plummeting at terrifying speed. A middle-aged man with slick black hair streaked faintly with gray descended like a stone.
In his hands, impossibly steady, was a silver tray carrying several cups of freshly brewed tea.
'He's going to die,' Vale thought.
But at the last possible moment,
The man landed.
A sharp, ringing impact echoed through the tower as he touched down on a single knee, the stone beneath him cracking slightly. Not a single drop of tea spilled.
He remained there for a moment, his eyes closed and composed.
Then he rose.
Vale stood frozen.
'How did he survive that?'
The fall had easily exceeded a hundred meters. No ordinary human could endure something like that.
The man's suit was immaculate, black with a pristine white tuxedo shirt beneath, finished with a neatly tied black tie. His skin was pale, his expression calm.
He approached Drago and bowed deeply.
"It is good to see you again, Great Sir Drago," he said smoothly, extending the tray.
Drago waved him off and took a cup.
"I was only gone for a month or two," he said, sipping the tea as its sweet aroma filled the air. "It couldn't have been that bad without me."
The man straightened slightly.
"Still," he replied, "I am glad you have returned. You are our leader, after all."
Drago narrowed his eyes and sighed deeply.
"I see. Any visits planned today?"
As Drago began walking toward the center of the tower once more, Vale studied him closely. Eskar, oddly enough, seemed uninterested, his attention remained fixed on the egg.
Ivor spoke again.
"Yes," he said. "The new Royal Guard Commander, Ares, requested a meeting the moment you returned from your travels. He also expressed interest in speaking with the guests you brought along as well."
Vale stiffened slightly.
Drago slowly raised a brow and looked up at the towering butler.
"Why would he wish to see the two guests?" he asked, mild curiosity laced with a sharper edge as his eyes narrowed slightly.
Ivor remained perfectly composed. He closed his eyes and guided both hands behind his back with practiced elegance before speaking.
"I mentioned their names," he said calmly. "That alone was enough to draw his interest, or rather, the interest of one of his subordinates. As a result, Sir Ares decided it would be wiser to meet the guests personally before allowing any of his agents to approach either of them."
Vale listened closely, his brows knitting together. He glanced at Drago briefly, then turned back toward Ivor.
"He-" Vale began, stepping forward slightly to draw the butler's attention.
Ivor's eyes snapped open.
"Volume, young man," he said coolly. "This is a library."
Vale froze for a moment, then exhaled slowly. His eyes widened slightly before he nodded and lowered his voice. Stepping closer, he crossed his arms briefly and spoke again.
"Can I ask which of his agents was interested in us?" Vale asked quietly. "I might recognize the name."
Ivor looked him up and down, his gaze slow and deliberate. After a moment, a look of clear distaste crossed his otherwise composed features.
"Do you truly believe," he said coldly, "that I would answer such a question for a beast like yourself?"
Vale's jaw tightened.
Before he could respond, Drago cleared his throat.
Once.
The sound alone carried weight.
"Ivor," Drago said calmly.
The butler stiffened instantly and bowed deeply.
Vale narrowed his eyes, irritation flashing across his face, though he quickly suppressed it. The insult lingered, but he forced himself not to react, not here, not now.
Drago continued.
"Answer the boy," he said. "You will be responsible for educating them on our organization."
Ivor's eyes widened slightly.
His teeth clenched for just a fraction of a second before he straightened and bowed again.
"Of course, sir," he said through a measured breath.
Turning back to Vale, Ivor's expression returned to one of controlled neutrality.
"Sir Ares has requested that the identity of the agent remain anonymous for the time being," he explained. "He did not disclose their name to me either. Unfortunately, I cannot satisfy your… enthusiasm for knowledge."
Vale studied him for a long moment, then exhaled slowly.
"Fine," he said. "I'll ask him myself then."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Any idea when he'll be here?"
Ivor glanced at Drago, pausing just long enough to seek silent approval.
Drago gave a small nod.
Ivor turned back to Vale.
"He should arrive," the butler said evenly, "in exactly thirty seconds."