To arrive in Torzi empire, one would have to go through the sun valley. In the past, people would have to go on foot, which took days, but since the alliance of Torzi and Salvador empire more than two centuries ago, their technological advancements were on par with each other.
The numbered of sound league didn’t travel together. Owen and Remy left earlier and went straight to sound branch located in the heart of the capital city of Torzi empire, while Elias found himself in the middle of the city buying street snacks with Zeal after a four hours train ride.
He stuck out like a sore thumb, turning heads as he stood there in the market. Zeal didn’t seem to mind it though. He kept picking out stuff and paying ridiculous amounts of money. He also didn’t notice when Elias wandered off alone.
Torzi empire was an opposite version of Salvador. Unlike the high class and low class setting in Salvador, all people seem to live side by side. The rich driving a car, and the poor riding a wagon on the same street. They didn’t seem to mind it. It added to the unique lifestyle of Torzi empire. People like this can only cross part one in a hundred in Salvador.
The empire itself was covered with a wall, and at the very heart sat the highest building known as the palace.
"Dashed is a leading family in Torzi, also known as the ring family. As for why they are called the rings? I have zero idea, and I also don’t care." Zeal’s voice suddenly cut through Elias’s thoughts. He turned his head to see the older man strolling behind him with a bag of goodies.
"The leading families of Torzi empire each own a territory around the empire, and Dashed is the closest to the palace, so that’s where we’re going."
***
They arrived an hour later.
The gates of the Dashed estate rose like black glass against the afternoon sun. Two stories tall, carved with constellations that only glowed at night, and flanked by guards in deep navy coats. Their insignia, a crescent blade over a star.
As soon as they stepped within ten paces of the door, the guards snapped to attention.
"Lord Zeal," the one on the left, bowed first. "The Patriarch has been expecting you. Please, this way."
"Expecting you?" Elias glanced at him.
"These people take note as soon as someone steps into Torzi empire. Even more, from sound league."
"Why sound league?"
"We’re a walking disaster, they say." Zeal shrugged. "I wonder why..."
Four more guards fell into formation around them, escorting them through the outer courtyard. The air here was different. Even the street vendors’ shouts from the city faded the moment the second gate closed behind them.
Zeal kept chewing on a skewer of candied fruit, completely at ease. "Relax, boys. I don’t bite."
Unfortunately they flinched. The last time Zeal visited the sound league branch in Torzi empire was five years ago. He executed criminals against the royal family orders and burned down half the capital city.
One of the younger guards glanced sideways, then frowned. His eyes swept over Zeal’s shoulder, then to the space beside him. Then back again.
"Uh... Lord Zeal?" he said carefully. "Where is the other one?"
Zeal didn’t even look back. He just laughed, and popped another fruit into his mouth.
"Elias?" He waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, he wandered off."
The guards exchanged looks. "Wandered off, sir? He came in with us."
"Mhm." Zeal shrugged. "Kid’s have the curiosity of a stray cat and the stealth of a ghost. He’ll turn up. Probably already inside, eating the Patriarch’s desserts."
"But sir, protocol says all guests must be accounted for before entering the inner hall—"
Zeal stopped walking. He turned, and for a second the easy smile dropped. His eyes, usually half-lidded and lazy, went sharp with irritation.
"Yes sir." They chorused.
They proceeded to the patriarch hall, and the man was already there to receive them.
The Patriarch of House Dashed was a middle aged man with silver hair tied neatly behind his head. Despite his age gap with Zeal, his back remained straight. He descended the short flight of steps himself instead of waiting for servants.
"Lord Zeal."
He bowed first.
Zeal waved lazily.
"Patriarch."
The man chuckled. "It has been five years."
"I was hoping you’d forget."
"I nearly did," the Patriarch admitted. "Then someone reminded me that half my capital had once been on fire."
"...Ah." Zeal scratched his cheek. "That again."
The old man merely sighed.
"I suppose I’ll never let you live that down."
Servants slid the doors open.
"Please, come in."
___
The reception hall was spacious, its ceiling supported by pillars carved with stars and crescent moons. Warm afternoon light spilled through the high windows, giving the floor a golden sheen.
Tea had already been prepared.
A servant silently poured a cup before Zeal.
He accepted it with a smile.
"My thanks."
The Patriarch sat opposite him while the attendants withdrew, leaving only two guards by the entrance.
"I expected the former League Master as well."
"Rowen?"
"Mhm."
"He stayed behind."
"I see."
The Patriarch lifted his own cup. "...And the young man you came with?"
"Elias?" Zeal took a sip. "Wandered off."
The Patriarch paused halfway through drinking.
"...He wandered off."
"Mhm."
"...Inside my estate."
"I believe so."
Finally, the Patriarch sighed into his teacup.
"...Very well."
If Lord Zeal himself wasn’t concerned, then perhaps there truly wasn’t a reason to panic.
Hopefully.
He decided to change the subject before his blood pressure worsened. "I did not invite Sound League merely for courtesy."
"You didn’t invite us."
The man raised a brow. "I sent an invitation this morning."
"And do I look like the type to answer your request even in the next one week?"
The patriarch nodded. Truly, it was odd that they showed up right away. He could only conclude that his invitation didn’t bring the league master.
Zeal rested his cup on the table.
"The reports I got."
The Patriarch nodded.
"Our people have encountered the same organization. The Disposal." A shadow crossed the older man’s face as he leaned forward. "They’ve appeared within Torzi’s borders several times over the past year."
"Strength?"
"They avoid direct confrontation."
"So they run."
"Yes."
Zeal’s fingers tapped lightly against the porcelain.
"They don’t seek territory or attack cities nor demand ransom. They simply take children."
The room became noticeably quieter.
"Our investigations have revealed a pattern." He unfolded several documents onto the table. "Every incident occurs near remote villages or towns bordering the forests."
"No survivors?"
"A handful."
"What did they say?"
"They described masked individuals dressed entirely in black."
He slid another report toward Zeal.
"No identifiable abilities. They incapacitate everyone present without unnecessary killing, take one or two children, then vanish before reinforcements arrive."
"And the children?"
The Patriarch slowly shook his head.
"Never seen again."
Zeal’s expression remained as relaxed as ever, but the tapping of his finger stopped.
"Age?"
"Usually between ten and eighteen."
"Hm."
"We initially believed it to be human trafficking, but a noble’s child and an orphan are treated exactly the same."
"Hmmm.."
He reached for the cup and took a sip of the tea. His unbothered expression drove the patriarch to ask a question.
"You already know about all this."
Zeal chuckled.
"Yes. Afterall, I was also captured in the past."
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