"Wow…" Egor breathed.
They stood before the gates of Klaus's uncle's estate.
The wall rose high—at least five meters. Thick. Solid. Absolute.
Nothing could be seen beyond it.
Only guards.
Dozens of them.
Lining the ramparts—
bows already drawn—
aimed directly at them.
"Halt! Who goes there?"
"I am Klaus Deffender. Prince of Isorobia."
A pause.
Heavy.
"A prince… without an escort?" one of the guards called, suspicion thick in his voice.
"Come down and see for yourself," Klaus said coldly.
A beat.
"You miserable worm."
Egor felt it.
That tone.
Sharp enough to cut.
Minutes passed.
Long.
Uncomfortable.
Then—
a narrow side door opened.
Two guards stepped out.
Fully armed.
Careful.
The first one looked at Klaus—
and his face twisted instantly.
"You—! Trying to deceive us and slip into the estate of the king's brother?!"
He attacked.
No warning.
Klaus moved without thinking.
Steel rang.
He deflected—
stepped back—
And Egor understood.
"Klaus! Your tattoos!"
Klaus froze for half a second.
Then—
his hand went to his temple.
The foundation.
Still covering them.
"Stop," he snapped.
No one listened.
Irritation flared.
Sharp.
Immediate.
Lightning surged through the ground.
The guards collapsed instantly—
bodies locking—
muscles seizing.
Klaus exhaled—
reached for his face—
"Fire!"
Arrows rained down.
Klaus reacted instantly.
Arms wide—
lightning erupted outward—
forming a crackling barrier.
The first volley shattered against it.
The second hit harder.
The pressure spiked.
Too much.
Too fast.
He couldn't hold it for long.
"Egor!" Klaus snapped. "Get here. Wipe this off!"
Egor ran.
The closer he got—
the worse it felt.
The air screamed.
Electric.
Violent.
Alive.
Every instinct told him—
don't touch him.
You'll die.
But if he didn't—
they both would.
His hands trembled as he pressed his shirt against Klaus's temple.
Wiped.
Hard.
The moment his fingers touched him—
the electricity vanished.
Just—
gone.
Egor froze.
Only for a second.
Then moved to the other side.
An arrow cut past—
grazed his finger—
scraped across Klaus's temple—
Blood welled instantly.
Egor stared.
"Don't stop!" Klaus barked. "Faster!"
He wiped the rest away.
Nothing changed.
The guards kept firing.
They couldn't see.
Not from that distance.
The soldiers Klaus had dropped were already starting to stir.
"Look!" Egor shouted, pointing frantically.
Seconds passed.
Too many.
Then—
"Hold your fire!"
Silence.
Immediate.
"Forgive us, Your Highness!"
The guards dropped to their knees.
All of them.
"We could not imagine that someone of your rank would arrive with a single companion… and conceal his identity."
Klaus straightened slowly.
Breathing hard.
Eyes cold.
Unforgiving.
"Take me to my uncle."
"Yes, Your Highness!"
The gates opened.
And the estate changed instantly.
"The Prince of Isorobia has arrived!"
The shout spread like wildfire.
Soldiers formed ranks.
Servants dropped to their knees.
Foreheads to the ground.
No one dared look up.
Klaus walked through it all—
without a glance.
Back straight.
Face empty.
Untouchable.
Egor followed behind.
And for the first time in a long while—
he saw that version of Klaus again.
Cold.
Distant.
Cruel.
Untouchable.
Like in the beginning.
He had almost forgotten.
And yet—
he understood.
This wasn't the real Klaus.
This was armor.
Still—
it hurt.
Because now—
he didn't know anymore—
which version was real.
The one who protected him.
Who saved him.
Who gave without asking.
Or the one who walked away.
Killed without hesitation.
Smiled while doing it.
Who was Klaus Deffender?
And how long—
before he decided Egor wasn't worth keeping?
That thought stayed.
Because Egor understood something now.
He would accept anything.
Anything at all—
as long as Klaus didn't leave him.
They entered the hall.
High ceilings.
Pale stone.
A wide staircase.
At the top—
a man.
Controlled.
Still.
Dangerous in a quiet way.
Behind him—
a figure in violet robes.
A slave.
Higher rank.
Guards everywhere.
Too many.
Far too many.
Not for protection.
For control.
"Greetings, Uncle," Klaus said evenly. "I see you're still in good health. Has Abel not come to greet his cousin?"
"You surprise me," the man replied calmly. "Such a sudden arrival. And so… delayed."
"I had matters to attend to. Where is Abel?"
"At the border. He is no longer a child."
Klaus watched him.
Silently.
His uncle studied him in return—
then shifted his gaze to Egor.
"My dear nephew," he said, "your chambers are being prepared. Rest. Clean yourself. Eat."
A pause.
"Then we will speak."
He turned slightly.
"You," he said to a servant. "Take the prince's slave."
Egor froze.
Looked at Klaus.
"No," Klaus said, stepping forward. "He is not a slave. He will be given a room."
A pause.
"Not a slave?" his uncle repeated mildly.
"And what is he, then?"
"From what house?"
"None."
Silence fell.
Cold.
"Then he cannot remain," his uncle said.
"You know the law."
"If he is not noble—he cannot stand at your side."
"And if he is not your slave—he leaves."
"No."
The word cut through the hall.
"He stays."
"You are not king," his uncle replied.
"You do not decide the law."
A pause.
"If you wish to keep him…"
A faint tilt of the head.
"Brand him."
"As your slave."
"No."
A subtle gesture.
The guards moved.
Steel drawn.
Closing in.
Klaus's expression changed.
Darkened.
His katana slid free.
Lightning crawled along the blade.
"So that's your answer," he said quietly.
"Then I'll persuade you."
"By cutting your guard in half."
Egor felt it.
That moment.
Everything about to collapse.
And it was because of him.
Again.
If Klaus fought—
he would lose everything.
Because of Egor.
"Stop," Egor said quietly, touching his arm.
Klaus didn't move.
"Don't start a war with the only possible ally we have."
"We don't know he's an ally," Klaus said.
A pause.
"Right now, I know only one ally."
He looked at him.
It hit harder than it should have.
But this wasn't about that.
Egor stepped forward.
"I agree," he said.
"I'll become his slave."
"Call them off."
"Have you lost your mind?" Klaus growled.
"It's just a mark," Egor said, forcing a weak laugh. "I was going to get a tattoo anyway."
"Do you understand what that means?"
"Yes."
A breath.
"It means I belong to you."
Silence.
"And no one can force me to leave."
Klaus stared at him.
Long.
Hard.
"You will be a slave," he said.
"You will lose your freedom."
"I'll lose it on paper," Egor said quietly.
"Not with you."
A step closer.
"This is strategy."
"Nothing more."
The hall held its breath.
His uncle watched.
Interested.
Patient.
The guards waited.
Finally—
"…Fine."
The word sounded wrong.
Heavy.
Irreversible.
"I will mark him."
"He will be mine."
"My personal servant."
"High rank."
"He stays with me."
A pause.
"Prepare another bed in my chambers."
The blade lowered.
But something else—
did not.
Because Klaus understood exactly what he had done.
He had wanted to protect Egor.
Keep him untouched.
Separate from this world.
And now—
with his own hands—
he had given him to it.
Let the system claim him.
Turned him—
into a slave.