The familiar hum of spatial energy faded as Lord Terrace materialized in the teleportation chamber of the Terrace Estate.
Two guards stationed at the chamber’s entrance moved forward, prepared to intercept the arrival. Their hands rested on the hilts of their weapons, but the moment the energy dissipated, and Lord Terrace’s imposing figure came into view, they halted.
“Welcome home, my lord,” they said in unison, bowing respectfully.
Lord Terrace gave a curt nod as he strode past them, his long strides filled with purpose. His destination was clear—the main building of his family’s estate. The cold stone walls of the chamber gave way to the open air as he exited, his mind lost in thought.
The Southern Atholor Continent lingered heavily in his memory, particularly the discussions held in the Soulor Empire with Emperor Leynard and the representatives of other regions. His brow furrowed deeply as he recalled the revelation of humans siding with the demons.
‘How could they forsake their own kind?’ The thought was bitter and unrelenting. ‘To betray their own race for creatures that nearly drove humanity to extinction… What could they possibly hope to gain?’
The absurdity of it gnawed at him. If not for Elder White Fang’s composure during the meeting, Lord Terrace was sure he would have lost his temper.
By the time his thoughts returned to the present, Lord Terrace found himself standing in front of the main building. His head lifted, and his sharp blue eyes met the warm, expectant gazes of his family.
Lady Danyel stood at the entrance, her composed smile tinged with relief. Beside her, Seth and Laurel, the youngest of their children, brightened at the sight of their father. Without hesitation, the two bolted toward him, their laughter echoing through the air.
“Father!”
“Welcome home!”
Lord Terrace’s frown melted into a rare, soft smile as he bent down, embracing both of them at once. Their joy was infectious, and for a moment, the weight of his journey felt a little lighter.
As the children held onto him, the rest of his family approached. Lady Raela, his youngest sibling, stood near her brothers Duke and Nesmond, both of whom wore matching expressions of amusement. Finally, his twin brother Osbourne joined the group, his face contemplative but welcoming.
Straightening, Lord Terrace gently ruffled Seth’s hair and kissed Laurel’s forehead before stepping toward his wife. Lady Danyel greeted him with a light kiss, her touch grounding him.
“You’re back,” she said softly, her tone holding a mixture of relief and pride.
“I am,” he replied, his voice steady.
The siblings exchanged pleasantries, “In just a few days, you’ve managed to look a year older. That’s a new achievement.” Duke joked with his elder brother.
Nesmond chimed in with mock concern about the state of his older brother’s hair. “You look… rough.”
“Yeah, like someone that’d lost his way home.” Duke added and the others chuckled.
“More like he was disowned.” Nesmond corrected Duke.
Lord Terrace let them speak, his stoicism betraying nothing, but the subtle upward twitch of his lips revealed his appreciation for their humor.
Finally, he spoke. “Let’s head inside. There’s much to discuss.”
Once inside the sprawling family meeting room, Lord Terrace gestured for everyone to take their seats. The room, adorned with rich tapestries and a large central table, was a space reserved for important discussions.
Before they began, Lord Terrace paused, turning to Seth and Laurel. He reached into his void key and produced two beautifully wrapped boxes.
“Seth. Laurel,” he said, addressing them with a rare warmth. “These are for you.”
The children’s eyes lit up as they eagerly accepted the gifts.
“Thank you, Father!” Seth exclaimed, barely able to contain his excitement.
Laurel hugged her box tightly, her voice soft but earnest. “I’ll treasure it, Father.”
Lord Terrace nodded. “Go to your rooms. We’ll talk later.”
With their father’s permission, the two children rushed off, chattering about their gifts. Lady Danyel smiled after them before turning her attention back to her husband.
Once the room settled, Lord Terrace began recounting the events of his journey.
“We’ve accomplished what we set out to do,” he began, his voice measured. “The representatives of the Southern Atholor Continent were receptive to our mission, and they will be sending their emissaries to the upcoming meeting.”
“Did you encounter any resistance?” Nesmond asked, leaning forward.
“Not directly,” Lord Terrace admitted. “But troubling news surfaced. Some among humanity have chosen to ally themselves with the demons. They believe it’s the only path to survival.”
A heavy silence fell over the room.
“How could they betray us like that?” Lady Raela asked, her voice low with anger.
“They see power, not consequences,” Lord Terrace said grimly. “Their betrayal will cost us all dearly if we don’t act swiftly. Elder White Fang and I are committed to eradicating this faction, but it won’t be easy.”
Lord Terrace continued, describing the tense discussions with Emperor Leynard and the subtle yet disturbing atmosphere surrounding their talks. However, he withheld the specifics of the unsettling energy he had sensed from the Emperor.
By the time he finished, the family’s resolve had hardened.
“We’ll prepare,” Osbourne said firmly. “The Terrace family has always stood at the forefront of humanity’s defense. This time will be no different.”
The others nodded in agreement, their expressions unified in determination.
“Good,” Lord Terrace said. “We’ll need every resource, every ally, and every ounce of strength for what’s to come.”
As the family dispersed, Osbourne lingered behind, waiting until the room cleared before addressing his twin.
“There’s something you should know,” Osbourne began.
Lord Terrace leaned back in his chair, listening intently as Osbourne recounted recent events.
“A noble tried to claim a portion of our territory while you were away,” Osbourne said. “I dealt with him swiftly. The land remains ours.”
“Good,” Lord Terrace said, nodding. “You’ve done well.”
Osbourne smiled faintly but remained quiet for a moment, as if debating whether to say more. Finally, he stood.
“Get some rest,” he said, his tone light. “Even you need it.”
Lord Terrace watched as his brother left the room. For a moment, the silence was welcome, allowing him to gather his thoughts.
In the corridor, Osbourne pulled out a small, intricately designed disc—a tracking device linked to a specific weapon. Imbuing it with magic essence, he attempted to locate the sword it was tied to.
The disc glowed faintly, but the result left him frowning in confusion.
“It disappeared?” he muttered, his voice tinged with disbelief.
The disc remained unresponsive, its magic unable to detect the weapon’s location. Whatever had happened, it was unlike anything Osbourne had encountered before.
His grip on the disc tightened as his mind raced with possibilities. Something wasn’t right!