In the same late morning, a vast hall stretched into darkness on all the insides, its interior swallowing detail and depth. Only a single source of light broke through, shining down from above toward the center, revealing a simple opening in the roof. Beneath it, the structure was supported by tall pillars that disappeared into the surrounding darkness.
Near the illuminated center, a short set of steps was faintly visible, leading to a slightly raised position that indicated where someone of higher standing would be seated.
Within that darkness, a figure remained seated, completely still. His fingers rested calmly on the handles of his seat, his posture composed and unmoving. On his index finger sat a strange ring, bearing a distinct emblem that formed a circular shape with two horn-like protrusions.
Only his silhouette was visible. Everything else, including his face, was entirely consumed by the darkness around him.
"I trust you will handle it efficiently."
The voice was calm and firm, carrying no need for elaboration. Whoever it was directed toward, hidden within the opposite side of the hall, understood it without question.
A brief silence followed. Then, soft thuds of boots echoed as a figure stepped forward from the darkness, moving slowly into the light. The robe he wore caught the illumination first, followed by his upper body as he continued forward at a steady pace.
"Of course, your sire," the figure replied as he stepped fully into the light, revealing himself.
It was Leonidas.
He stood composed, though this time without his glasses. Even so, his calm and refined appearance still carried a clear sense of seriousness, along with a quiet familiarity that remained evident.
"I'll handle it," he completed.
***
Beyond the town, towering buildings loomed over the outskirts, standing just before the large gates that marked the exit of the country. In front of them, Jurgen and his comrades were already assembled, prepared to depart for their mission.
The uniforms they wore fitted them cleanly and precisely. Each piece had been tailored with care, shaped to their frames without being too tight or too loose. The long sleeves reached their wrists before stopping neatly, while the shirts were tucked inward at the waist and secured with a black leather belt. From there, the fabric extended outward again, falling to about half the length of their knees.
The trousers followed a similar design, reaching down to their ankles and stopping in a way that left a slight portion of skin visible above the boots, a detail that appeared intentional in the design.
The boots themselves were simple, black, and proportioned so they neither rose too high nor ended too low, covering the exposed skin just enough to complete the uniform's structure.
The entire outfit carried a deep shade of gray, with the faintest trace of brown blended into it, subtle enough that it would only be noticed upon closer attention. Along the edges of the waist, wrists, and trouser hems, a soft creamy lining ran through the fabric, giving the design a clean and defined finish.
At the front, the shirt formed a V-shaped opening at the chest that curved downward to the side and gradually resembled a Y as it extended toward the waist. This section, also bordered with the same creamy lining, was left slightly open to allow the wearer's inner attire to show through, blending personal choice into the uniform's structure to give each individual a distinct appearance.
Over it all, a simple coat-like cape hung from the shoulders down toward the ankles, though it was not worn in a perfectly balanced manner. Instead, it leaned slightly toward one shoulder, resting asymmetrically depending on the wearer's preference.
The decision to wear the coat at all, however, remained optional, based entirely on personal choice.
The breeze carried a steady calmness through the area, suggesting a rather respectable day ahead. Overall, they were more than ready to begin the mission.
The only exception was Bubbles, who shifted restlessly within his uniform. His larger frame struggled to settle comfortably in the fit, despite the material being designed with elasticity to accommodate different body types.
Even so, a small tear had formed at the back of his trousers, a clear indication of his oversized build placing strain on the fabric. The uniform itself gave a faint stretching sound, as though it had been pushed to its limit by the situation it was being subjected to.
The other two remained still, each of them carrying their own share of tension and anticipation in silence. For a brief moment, no one moved.
Then Jurgen exhaled calmly before speaking.
"Let's go," he ordered, taking charge of the group.
The moment before they stepped out, a familiar voice called Jurgen's name out loudly. Jurgen turned to see Leonidas, who was waving like a happy child as he closed the distance at a light jog.
Jurgen's expression shifted slightly with mild annoyance, though he did not consider it enough to react strongly. That changed when Leonidas called his name again, even louder than before. At that point, it began to feel deliberate and unnecessarily drawn out, especially since he was already close enough that there was no need to raise his voice.
Leonidas repeated it once more, this time slower and more exaggerated, making it sound even worse than before.
"Oi… quit yelling my name like that! I can hear you just fine!" Jurgen snapped.
The two figures behind him, along with Bubbles, could not hide their surprise. They called out in unison with visible uncertainty.
"Lord Leonidas!"
Their tone carried hesitation, as though they were unsure whether to bow or how to properly show respect in the moment.
As for Jurgen… well, he remained Jurgen.
Leonidas finally reached them and gave a casual wave before turning his attention to Jurgen with a grin, clearly satisfied that he had managed to draw a reaction from him.
"You're on your first mission already, I see."
"As you can see," Jurgen replied simply, already turning away as if there was no need to linger further.
"So where are you headed?" Jurgen asked, though his tone carried reluctance.
In the same motion, he began walking away before Leonidas could answer. It was abrupt, as though he had asked the question without intending to remain for the response.
Leonidas stood there for a moment, his expression flattening slightly. It was not anger, but a quiet, reluctant acceptance of Jurgen's manner. He would ask a question, then walk off as if the answer no longer mattered.
He definitely does that on purpose.
Leonidas jogged lightly to match Jurgen's stride before speaking again, his tone carrying a boastful ease.
"I have an important mission to handle as an emperor," he said.
A pair of light scoffs followed as he lifted his head slightly, his posture becoming more elevated. His hands rested behind his head in a relaxed, almost king-like manner, reinforcing the self-assured way he carried himself.
"Is that so?" Jurgen replied flatly.
"Then we part ways here."
"My my, what is with that expression?" Leonidas lowered his head slightly, though a smug grin remained on his face.
"An emperor is not a word that moves me, nor is whatever mission it is you plan on going for. I plan on becoming stronger than any title the world has to offer," he declared.
The words caused a subtle moment of surprise in Leonidas, who paused briefly as though taken aback by the weight behind the statement.
A small scoff followed as he regained his composure.
"You toss around the word 'emperor' too easily. Don't get too comfortable, Jurgen."
Leonidas then parted ways with Jurgen there. The boy had made his declaration casually, as though he had not considered the weight each word carried, but Leonidas did not press further. Life, after all, was a better teacher for such things.