[: 3rd POV :]

The following morning came quietly, though Fendrick couldn’t feel the peace it carried.

He sat by the dorm window, the sunlight brushing against his skin, and yet his chest felt heavy.

His knuckles still bore faint bruises, reminders of yesterday’s beating, and of the screams that had echoed before everything turned still.

He glanced at Daniel, who sat by his bed polishing his blade, his expression calm, collected... almost detached.

How could someone appear so normal after doing what he did?

Fendrick clenched his jaw, but said nothing.

He knew it wasn’t right to pry, everyone had secrets.

And judging from Daniel’s eyes that night, some secrets weren’t meant for mortals to touch.

Still... the question burned in his chest.

"...You’re staring,"

Daniel said suddenly, voice quiet yet sharp.

Fendrick jolted.

"H-Huh? No, I wasn’t!"

Daniel smirked faintly.

"You’re a terrible liar. What is it?"

Fendrick scratched his neck, his eyes shifting away.

"Nothing, man. Just... thinking."

"About what?"

"Stuff." He exhaled heavily.

"You know. Like how people mysteriously vanish, or how I might’ve seen my life flash before my eyes yesterday."

Daniel chuckled softly, shaking his head.

"You’re still the same idiot."

"Hey! You can’t just call me that after saving me!"

Fendrick shot back, glaring at him.

"Then what do you want me to call you? The idiot who got saved?"

Daniel teased, a small, amused grin tugging at his lips.

Fendrick groaned.

"You’re impossible. You know that?"

"Fully aware."

Their banter returned naturally, as though the blood, the fear, and the wrath of the previous night had never happened.

It was strange how easy it felt to slip back into normalcy, even though the memory of Leon’s terrified scream still haunted the edge of Fendrick’s thoughts.

But Daniel’s calm smile, cold and unreadable, made it clear he had already buried the matter.

When the lunch bell rang, the two walked toward the cafeteria together.

Fendrick kept stealing glances at him, trying to find a trace of guilt or regret, but Daniel only hummed faintly as if lost in thought.

The silence between them felt heavy until Fendrick finally broke it.

"Hey, Daniel."

"Mm?"

"Thanks."

Daniel stopped mid-stride, glancing sideways.

"For what?"

"For saving me," Fendrick said quietly, eyes lowered.

"I know you didn’t have to. You could’ve just ignored me, or walked away, but... you didn’t."

Daniel smiled faintly.

"You’d do the same for me."

"Don’t put words in my mouth."

"Oh? You wouldn’t save me if I were in trouble?" Daniel tilted his head, amused.

"Well, maybe after I finish eating first," Fendrick grinned, trying to mask his sincerity.

Daniel laughed softly. "Fair enough."

But then, as their laughter faded, the unease crept back in.

Fendrick’s hands tightened into fists.

"Still... Daniel, what if they find out? Leon’s father... he’s a Duke. If he learns his son’s gone, what do you think will happen?"

Daniel didn’t answer immediately.

His expression darkened, his steps slowing as his eyes turned distant.

"Then he’ll come," Daniel said softly, almost too calm. "And when he does... I’ll deal with him."

Fendrick’s heart skipped.

"You sound too confident."

Daniel looked at him then, eyes faintly glowing with something vast, ancient, and utterly terrifying.

"Because I am."

That silenced any protest Fendrick might’ve had.

For a brief moment, he felt something, a cold certainty that whatever Daniel was, whatever he had become, he wasn’t bound by the same limits as the rest of them.

So Fendrick nodded quietly, trusting him despite the fear that lingered in his chest.

"Alright," he muttered.

"I’ll... leave it to you."

"Good." Daniel’s voice softened, almost reassuring.

"And Fendrick?"

"Yeah?"

"Don’t thank me again,"

Daniel said, turning away.

"You’re my friend. That’s all the reason I need."

That night, the moon hung pale and distant above the academy towers.

The halls were quiet, the air faintly humming with mana fluctuations, subtle, restrained, but powerful enough that even the guards patrolling nearby felt something wasn’t right.

Inside Mika’s office, the candles flickered as she raised her eyes from the documents she was signing.

"...You’ve come," she murmured, not surprised.

Daniel stood by the doorway, his presence blending with the shadows.

"You already knew I would."

"After what happened yesterday, yes."

Mika folded her arms, her expression unreadable.

"You intend to go, don’t you?"

"I do."

She sighed softly. "To the Duke."

Daniel nodded.

"He deserves to know. And I won’t let him twist the truth."

Mika studied him carefully.

The aura surrounding him felt different tonight, heavier, darker, as though the air itself hesitated to move.

"You’ve changed," she said quietly.

"You’re colder."

Daniel’s eyes flickered, reflecting the candlelight like molten gold.

"Coldness keeps me sane."

"Do you plan to kill him too?"

Daniel paused, then shook his head.

"No. I’m not here to slaughter a grieving father... unless he makes me."

"That’s not comforting," Mika muttered.

Then, after a long silence, she whispered, "Daniel... just don’t overwork yourself."

For a moment, Daniel almost smiled.

"I know."

The Duke’s estate loomed in silence.

The night air was heavy with mist, and the distant torches along the marble path flickered faintly.

Inside, servants moved briskly, unaware that death itself had entered their gates.

Duke Erhardt Vortigren, a man of authority and pride, walked down the corridor toward his study.

His expression was weary, he’d been restless ever since morning.

A creeping unease gnawed at him, though he refused to acknowledge it.

Then, suddenly, the air shifted.

The torches dimmed.

And a shadow stood before him.

Erhardt froze, eyes widening as he recognized the figure.

"P-Prince Daniel...?"

Daniel stood calmly, hands clasped behind his back, his gaze steady and cold.

"Good evening, Duke Valcrane."

"W-What brings you here, Your Highness?"

The Duke asked, his tone respectful but strained.

Something in his instincts screamed danger.

"I’m here," Daniel said, voice low, "to inform you about your son."

Erhardt’s chest tightened. "My... son?"

Daniel nodded. "Leon is dead and he was killed by none other than me"

The words hit like thunder.

The Duke’s veins bulged, fury flaring for a heartbeat, but then, seeing the calm, unflinching look in Daniel’s eyes, his anger faltered.

He swallowed hard, forcing composure.

"May I... know what sin my son committed," he asked carefully, "that he deserved such death?"

Daniel tilted his head slightly, as if testing him.

"You know Fendrick? The younger brother of the maid who works under you?"

"Yes... I am aware."

"Then you should know," Daniel continued, his tone tightening, "that your son had been abusing his power, tormenting Fendrick and even threatening to sell his sister as a slave."

Erhardt’s brows furrowed.

"That’s illegal," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else.

"Indeed." Daniel’s voice darkened. "Yet he spoke it without hesitation."

The Duke lowered his gaze, silent for a long moment.

"If that was all he did," Daniel continued, "I might’ve spared him. Perhaps given him a punishment fitting his crimes. But..."

Erhardt looked up. "But?"

Daniel’s eyes narrowed.

"He made remarks about my mother."

For the first time, the Duke’s composure cracked.

He felt a chill crawl up his spine as Daniel’s aura began to surge, quiet but suffocating, like a storm building behind a mountain.

"What... kind of remarks?" he asked hesitantly, though he already feared the answer.

"He said he’d make the Empress, my mother—his ’bitch’," Daniel said flatly.

Silence fell.

Even the air stopped moving.

The Duke’s legs trembled, his heart nearly stopped.

He could almost hear Leon’s voice, mocking, arrogant, and stupid.

’Damn it, Leon,’ he thought bitterly. ’You fool... you absolute fool.’

Daniel took a step forward, his presence pressing down like gravity itself.

"Now tell me, Duke. What should I have done?"

Erhardt fell to one knee instantly, his pride discarded like ash.

"I apologize, Prince Daniel!" he said, voice trembling.

"And I thank you, for your mercy. If my son truly said such blasphemy, then death was far too lenient!"

Daniel studied him for a moment, then exhaled quietly. "You’re wiser than your son."

"Please..." The Duke lowered his head deeply.

"Spare my family. I will personally ensure that no heir of mine ever repeats his mistakes."

Daniel turned away, his expression unreadable.

"Good. See that you do. I have no interest in destroying your line... unless you give me reason."

"I understand, Your Highness."

Daniel paused, glancing over his shoulder.

"I hope you’ll remember tonight not as a warning... but as mercy."

Then, before the Duke could reply, Daniel vanished, his presence dissolving into the air like smoke.

For a long while, the Duke stayed on his knees, trembling.

Only when he was sure Daniel was gone did he whisper to the empty hall, "Damn you, Leon... if you wanted to die, you could’ve done it quietly."

He rose to his feet, returning to his study.

Every step echoed with regret and fury.

By the time he sat behind his desk, he poured himself a glass of wine, his hands still shaking.

"Prince Daniel... the Empress’ son," he muttered.

"To think that he’s already that strong... and that terrifying."

He downed the glass in one gulp, staring at the flickering candlelight.

No matter how much he despised his son’s fate, one thing was clear, if Daniel had wanted, he could’ve erased the entire family name from history.

And that mercy, however cold, was the only thing keeping them alive.