Everybody ignored the earthquake that had shook the Dashad household that morning. It wasn’t because it wasn’t alarming, but because the person who had caused it was a walking alarm himself.
Zeal sat on a windowsill, watching the maidens and servants carrying out their duties. The Dashad household, known as the ring, are no doubt the strongest family in the Torzi empire, even stronger than the royal family.
The patriarch walked up to him, standing by his side and staring out the window.
"Bad dream? You almost brought down my roof."
"Bad dream." Zeal replied.
"And now?"
"I still want to burn down Torzi empire."
The man flinched. "Don’t say that with a straight face."
He sighed.
"We’re having visitors over for breakfast."
"Why are you telling me?"
"Because they requested an audience with you."
Zeal frowned. "Me?"
"Whenever you show up, you stay in the biggest family in Torzi empire, if that’s not treason planning, what is?"
"Am I causing trouble for you?"
"Will you stop coming here if I say yes?"
"No."
"I figured." The patriarch huffed. His gaze swept the lower ground again and he noticed a lingering dark energy that wasn’t familiar.
"The child you brought. Where is he?"
"Elias? Doing something random perhaps?"
The patriarch glanced at him. Although he knew Zeal well enough to let him roam the mansion, he had never seen the boy.
"You don’t trust him," Zeal chuckled. "You don’t have a choice."
"Pardon?"
"I’m saying if he wants a piggy back ride. You’ll have to do it."
The older man frowned.
"Is he a leading family heir from Salvador? Even if he was, this place is not his territory."
Zeal glanced at the man.
"He’s a trigger switch. We’d either maintain a good relationship with him and continue fighting for trashy things like wealth and positions or piss him off to flip the switch and prepare for a war we’d never win."
The man flinched. He glanced back at the empty hallway and back at Zeal.
"Who did you bring to my doorstep?"
"The heir of black empire."
"..."
"..."
The patriarch felt old age instantly catching up to him. He leaned against the wall and shut his eyes.
"Heir?"
"Yes."
"Why is he even here?"
"We kidnapped him."
"KID—" he lowered his voice. "Kidnapped?"
"Mainly the disposal." Zeal shrugged. "The disposal is everywhere, so that means we’ll all face the black empire together and die together."
"That’s absurd!"
"But it’s reality." Zeal hopped down the window and shoved his hands in his pocket.
"Let’s go. I’m starving."
"Return him!"
"Maybe you can do it?"
"You do it!"
"No, thank you."
The dining hall was already occupied when they arrived.
The visitors sat on opposite sides of the long table, each carrying an air that could suffocate an ordinary man. Some wore military uniforms adorned with medals, others dressed in luxurious robes that marked their status. Every single one of them was a figure whose name alone could shake a city.
Yet the moment Zeal stepped into the hall, that imposing atmosphere crumbled.
One after another, they rose to their feet.
"...Lord Zeal."
"...It’s an honor."
Their greetings were respectful, though reluctant. It was like instinct forced their bodies to stand while every other part of them wished to remain seated.
Zeal merely glanced at them before taking his seat.
The patriarch suppressed a smile.
It did not matter how influential these men were. In front of the being known as sound league master, status meant nothing.
Only one among them appeared genuinely pleased.
The Prime Minister wore his usual gentle smile, lifting his teacup in greeting.
"Good morning."
Zeal gave a slight nod.
The patriarch clapped once.
"Sit. The food will get cold."
The servants quickly moved around the table, placing dishes before everyone. Soon, the only sounds that remained were utensils meeting porcelain and the occasional exchange of conversation.
No one dared to address Zeal directly, and he wasn’t interested in them either.
The hall doors opened once more, and Elias casually stepped in. He didn’t look like he was coming for breakfast, but lost and wandering.
He stopped barefooted by the door and glanced around.
"Oh! Come here!" Zeal waved.
The Dashad household patriarch didn’t know when he shot up to his feet.
"Welcome...young sir!"
The rest flinched. What’s with the man’s reaction?
"Please have a seat." The elderly man pulled out a chair for Elias.
They watched Elias walk to the sit without a care and sat. The patriarch slowly sat again and silence descended.
Nobody picked up a fork after that, but only Zeal found it funny.
Just when the tension was dissolving, Elias turned his gaze to the nearest person beside him, and their eyes locked. The man scrambled off his chair.
"A...a...a...a Black-eyed!"
All chairs scraped against the ground as they all stood up. No one among them had seen one before, but it was damn obvious. The sealing stone was wrapped and dangling from his wrist too.
Zeal burst into laughter, hitting the table.
"This is damn interesting!"
The patriarch sighed and whispered. "read the mood Zeal."
The man just laughed louder, until he was satisfied. Then, he tilted his head and began to poke at the beef before him with a fork.
"Did anyone see a Black-eyed here?"
The question confused them greatly. A Black-eyed was clearly sitting there. It was the Dashad household patriarch that got the hang of the question.
"No no!" He quickly replied. "I didn’t see a Black-eyed anywhere."
The rest nodded. "We didn’t see anyone!"
"Good." Zeal clapped.
They sat again, trying not to glance at the boy who had warrant such a threat.
A few minutes went by, then a servant hurried inside before bowing deeply. "My apologies. The last guest has arrived."
Several heads turned as footsteps echoed against the polished floor. A man came in. Although he was not among the leading families, he runs the biggest merchant group in Torzi empire.
The newcomer had only taken two steps into the dining hall before his eyes landed on Zeal.
He froze and pupils shrank. For a moment, Zeal just stared at him too. Recognition suddenly flashed the man’s eyes, and he muttered.
"...Number Twenty?"
The porcelain cup slipped from Zeal’s fingers and shattered against the floor. Before anyone could react, he was already on his feet. His chair scraped violently across the marble as he stumbled backward.
His breathing became uneven.
His usually indifferent eyes were fixed entirely on the newcomer, yet there was no hostility within them.
Only unmistakable fear. It was the kind of fear that belonged to prey cornered by a predator.
The entire hall fell deathly silent. The generals stared blankly. The ministers forgot to breathe. Even the patriarch’s expression stiffened.
Zeal was retreating?
Impossible.
The man who burned down half their capital city and gave their king a middle finger, was backing away.
Just as he was about to retreat even farther, a hand caught his arm.
"Brother."
The single word stopped him. Elias stood behind him, one hand wrapped around his forearm to stop him from retreating any further.
His brows knitted together as he looked from Zeal to the stunned newcomer.
"...What’s wrong?"
Zeal didn’t answer. His gaze never left the man standing at the entrance, and his fingers had begun to tremble ever so slightly.
Elias frowned.
"Should I kill him?"
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