"Well, well, look who it is! Naban! Is that really you?"

A sudden, boisterous voice interrupted Theo and Naban as they were about to return to the hall. They both stopped, turning toward the source of the noise.

A man with disheveled hair that resembled a lion’s mane strode toward them, his eyes gleaming with an intense, noble aura.

*It’s Torkel Ragnar...!*

Theo clenched his fist at the unexpected encounter with one of the contenders for the family headship.

Naban greeted Torkel with a somewhat strained expression.

"Oh, hey. Yeah, it’s been a while."

"How long has it been? After the initiation ceremony, I kept asking to meet, but you never showed up. You know, I was disappointed."

"There were some family matters, and… I wasn’t feeling well. You know, the usual."

"Still, you could’ve come to one of our reunions. You know how badly I wanted you in the Black Iron Cavalry."

"Y-yeah, I guess..."

"So, how have you been? I’m glad to see you here."

Naban, usually cynical and detached, seemed unusually flustered in Torkel’s presence, as if Torkel’s boundless energy was somehow overwhelming him.

*It’s like watching a pessimist face off with a super extrovert. Kind of amusing, really,* Theo thought, fascinated by Naban’s uncharacteristic demeanor.

"So anyway, Ayan has joined the Black Iron Cavalry recently. Isn’t that funny?"

"Uh… yeah, I guess that’s… funny."

"I’m sorry, I’m talking all about myself. How rude of me."

"N-no, it’s fine."

"By the way, who’s your friend here? Seems like you’ve got quite a famous companion."

Torkel’s gaze shifted to Theo, who had suspected from the beginning that he was the one Torkel had really come to see.

After all, rumors about the new sixth candidate, who had received the Sword Pearl, were enough to stir up the previously passive five candidates.

Theo bowed respectfully as he introduced himself.

"Theo Ragnar. It’s an honor to meet the esteemed Captain of the Black Iron Cavalry."

Torkel’s face broke into a grin, extending his hand in greeting.

"Torkel. It’s good to finally meet you in person. I heard you joined the White Iron Cavalry. A bit disappointing; I’d hoped to bring you over to our side."

"Thank you for the generous offer, but the gratitude I owe to the Dragon Lord is too great to ignore."

"That’s fate, I suppose. Still, we’ll likely work together often—our White and Black Iron Cavalries frequently collaborate on joint operations."

"I’d be honored to maintain a good relationship with you, Torkel."

"Haha! You speak well."

Torkel seemed pleased with Theo’s respectful yet confident demeanor, though the look of disappointment on his face lingered.

"I can’t deny I’d still like to try and sway you over, but…"

Torkel glanced toward the hall with a smirk.

"There are too many people here eager to roast me if I try, so I guess I’ll hold off."

"…?"

Theo didn’t fully understand, but he assumed Torkel had his reasons. As he moved to release the handshake, he found his hand wouldn’t budge.

Torkel was watching him with a mischievous grin.

*He’s testing me, isn’t he?*

It was clear that Torkel wanted to see how he would respond. Theo decided to oblige.

The Ragnars were a warrior family of the northern tradition—strength spoke louder than words.

Theo channeled his aura, gently but firmly pushing against Torkel’s grip.

"Oh."

A spark of surprise flickered in Torkel’s eyes.

*For most warriors, breaking free from this pressure would be a challenge. But he did it with ease.*

What surprised Torkel even more was that Theo had broken free without even attempting to read his aura.

His original intent was to analyze Theo’s aura and qualities carefully. But with the handshake ending so quickly, he learned nothing.

*He must have a lot of hidden potential, especially if he’s already received the Sword Pearl but hasn’t fully integrated it. My father must be thrilled with him.*

Torkel had wanted more information, but even this glimpse had sparked his interest.

*Tough competition, but interesting.*

Until now, he had only concerned himself with the elder candidates. Now, there was someone to keep him on his toes—a new dynamic he welcomed as a true Ragnar.

"I appreciate the courtesy, Torkel."

"Why so formal? We’re family. Just call me ‘brother’ in informal settings."

"Yes, understood… Brother."

"See? That’s better."

Theo picked up on the fact that Torkel was beginning to recognize him as a peer.

Looking between Theo and Naban, Torkel then asked, "So, how do you two know each other? Seems like an unlikely pair."

"We met while investigating the Ceres Trading Company," Theo replied.

"Wait, really? What were you doing there, Naban? Were you a suspect or something?"

It seemed Torkel wasn’t fully informed of the details.

Naban nodded nonchalantly. "Yeah, that was the time I decided to serve Theo as my lord."

"…Huh?"

Torkel tilted his head, not quite understanding, while Theo also looked at Naban, surprised.

But Naban, ever the enigma, remained unfazed even after dropping such a bombshell.

"Exactly as I said. There’s nothing more to explain, so I’ll take my leave."

Naban waved off any further questions and began to walk away, leaving Torkel gaping.

"Hey! At least explain it properly—"

Boom!

Before Torkel could finish, a loud explosion sounded from the direction of the hall.

Theo, Torkel, and Naban all turned toward the commotion simultaneously.

What they saw was staggering.

A shockwave that rocked the hall and reached up into the heavens, even shaking the Water Palace.

"Ahhh!"

"What’s happening?!"

"The Dragon Lord and the Elder Dragon have clashed!"

"It’s a battle between the Nine Dragons!"

The three men quickly dashed toward the hall, drawn by the chaos.

* * *

Crackle! Crackle!

The auras of two mighty individuals clashed, their force radiating outward in waves.

Tables and decorations around them had long been shattered, and everyone nearby had retreated out of range, watching in fear.

It was like a natural disaster had descended on the hall.

Just their presence alone caused this level of destruction—were they even human?

But the two responsible for the havoc, Wolfgang and Julius, seemed unconcerned.

"What… did you say, Captain of the White Iron Cavalry? Hahaha! This old man must be hearing things in his old age."

"Really? If that’s the case, maybe you should spend your days painting walls with dung instead of stirring up trouble here."

"You… did you just say that to me?"

"If you didn’t catch it, I’ll repeat it."

Julius’s lip twisted into a smirk.

"I asked if you’re looking to get beaten to death."

"How dare you!"

A fierce wind erupted from Wolfgang, the air around him crackling with barely restrained energy.

But then—

Boom!

The oppressive aura Wolfgang unleashed was suddenly crushed by an even greater force from above, as though a massive dragon was glaring down from beyond the palace walls.

"…!"

Wolfgang’s body froze, and he felt the alcohol’s warmth drain from him in an instant.

*Damn it!*

He recalled a day from the past, shortly after Evelyn had lost her arm. Julius had stormed into the Elder Hall on her behalf, leaving half of the elders bruised and broken.

Wolfgang had been among those victims.

"I told you, didn’t I?" Julius said, dropping any pretense of respect.

Wolfgang’s body trembled as he remembered Julius’s cold words from that day.

*"If you dare harm that child again, even indirectly, I won’t let it slide. The next time tears fall from her eyes…"*

"I let you off lightly back then, but I won’t forgive you twice."

*"…I’ll rip your arms from your shoulders, just like hers."*

It was like facing a dragon’s wrath all over again.

"W-wait!"

Wolfgang tried to protest, but—

Snap!

Julius twisted Wolfgang’s right wrist, pulling it in the opposite direction.

Crack! Crack!

The clash of their powerful auras was intense enough to make onlookers wonder if the entire palace might collapse.

Sweat trickled down Wolfgang’s forehead.

But the fight didn’t last long.

Crunch.

With a sickening sound of bone breaking and tearing flesh—

Splat!

Wolfgang’s right arm was torn clean off.

"Aaaargh!"

Wolfgang screamed in agony, blood spurting everywhere, while Julius’s eyes glinted with a dangerous light.

"Protect the Elder Dragon!"

"Captain of the White Iron Cavalry assaulted the Elder Dragon!"

The hall erupted in chaos.

In an instant, dozens of armed inspectors descended, all pointing their swords at Julius.

"It’s the Law Sword Inspectors!"

"They’re here!"

"Captain of the White Iron Cavalry, we are arresting you on charges of assaulting the Elder Dragon. Please come with us."

The lead inspector’s voice was steady, though his face showed clear apprehension—Julius hadn’t even looked in his direction.

He gave no answer, remaining silent and unbothered.

"We need to contain this before it spirals out of control...!"

The Law Sword Inspector gritted his teeth, realizing the storm that was about to erupt.

”Captain!”

”Don’t worry. I’ll handle this.”

”That’s not what I meant…”

Evelyn couldn’t comprehend Julius’s behavior. She knew he cared deeply for his team, but what he was doing now went beyond that—it was politically reckless. She’d seen him as someone who always balanced fun and duty, but now he seemed entirely swept up in his emotions.

It was as if he was taking this personally.

Her gaze trembled as she watched his broad back.

“All this, over a mere woman? You’re insane, Captain of the White Iron Cavalry!” Wolfgang, sheltered by the inspectors, spat his words in outrage, trying to regain his composure.

For a swordsman, the right arm was everything—both pride and life. Today, Wolfgang had lost both in one blow.

“You should be grateful I didn’t rip the one off your shoulders as well.”

“You arrogant bastard!”

Wolfgang’s eyes flared with rage at the insult, and just as he opened his mouth to retort—

”Captain of the White Iron Cavalry! You must properly explain your actions!”

A powerful, authoritative presence descended upon the hall as one by one, the Elder Hall’s most skilled swordsmen appeared in midair, each adding to the intimidating atmosphere.

The expressions of the Law Sword Inspectors grew even more tense, knowing the very thing they feared was unfolding before their eyes.

Although Wolfgang had been reduced to a disgraced elder, he was still a high-ranking official. An assault on him was an affront to the Elder Hall itself.

“Good timing. You, you, and you.” Julius began pointing at familiar faces among the gathering elders, recognizing several of them.

The elders’ faces contorted as they processed his words.

“You were there in the hall that day. So, I trust you remember what I told you back then?”

The quicker elders stiffened as they realized what he meant.

“Save me the trouble and hold out an arm each. I’ll be sure to cut them cleanly.”

The crowd fell silent, and even the air seemed to freeze in anticipation.

“Your arrogance is truly beyond measure!”

The elder swordsmen’s combined aura surged, filling the space with a keen intensity as they drew their swords.

Julius, too, seemed prepared, unsheathing his blade, his icy glare reflecting his eagerness for the fight.

But just then, a powerful voice shattered the killing intent permeating the hall as if it were nothing but glass.

“At my daughter’s birthday celebration, of all places, what on earth is going on here?”

The deadly aura blanketing the room instantly dissipated as every gaze turned upward.

There, silhouetted against the moonlight on the rooftop of the Water Palace, stood Niel, the Palace Lord of Camellia, her face cold and stern as she gazed down upon the hall.