After his brothers left, Bran became noticeably quieter. His days consisted only of routine training and studies. A few days ter, the two squires returned with little information—they simply stated that his brothers had entered the Wastend.

  That afternoon, Bran stood on the third-floor terrace of the estate, staring at the distant horizon, lost in thought. Dani approached him and asked, “Are you thinking about your brothers?”

  “No. You know my retionship with them isn’t particurly close. In fact, we’re somewhat distant.”

  “No matter what, they are still your brothers.”

  “Yes. It’s just that I’m a little worried.” Bran hesitated before continuing, “But I’m thinking more about myself.”

  “The Duke hasn’t pnned for you to take the trial.”

  “I know. Compared to them, I’ve always felt different. The expectations for me, my training… everything is different.” Bran gave a wry smile. “I’m too far apart from them. But one day, I’ll hear the call of the Wastend too. What will happen then?”

  “I will leave the North with you. Forever.”

  “I knew it would be like this,” Bran muttered bitterly. “They’ll send me away, as long as I stay alive. But what will my identity be? Can I still call myself a Northman?”

  “No.”

  “Where do they pn to send me?”

  “That doesn’t really matter. At least, for now, it won’t be too far,” Dani said with a small smile.

  “I still have some use, huh?”

  “Don’t frown at me, Dani,” Bran sighed. “I’m not dissatisfied. This is the North. Here, many things are simply the way they are. Weak infants might be killed at birth, and the disabled have no chance of survival. The fact that I’m alive is already a stroke of fortune.

  “I know what people in the castle say about me. I know the pressure my parents endured for years. And I know they love me deeply. I also understand the significance of the trial to the Northmen. Just look at you. You are far stronger than my brothers—so much stronger that it seems unnatural. The biggest difference between you and them, aside from age, is that you’ve completed the coming-of-age ceremony.

  “Strength doesn’t come from nowhere. There is always a price to pay. But… is it worth it?”

  Dani remained silent. She thought of her two white wolves, long lost. Was that the price? She had made a promise: if she survived the trial, she would accept the Duchess’s request and become the sworn protector of her foolish son. Was that also a price? No, at least, becoming his guardian wasn’t. She liked this boy. She liked his innocence, the quiet companionship, the way he spoke nonsense, the way he called her name so freely. She liked the feeling of home he gave her. So, she answered with certainty, “If there is something to gain, then it’s always worth it.”

  If there’s something to gain… Bran pondered. Gaining power after the trial? He didn’t feel the need for such power. It would be nice to have, but it wasn’t necessary. Yet, judging by Dani’s expression, she wasn’t talking about power. Shouldn’t she be flexing her muscles at this moment to give him a hint?

  Bran was growing uneasy. Though his concerns were mostly specutive, the call of the Wastend didn’t come at a fixed age—it spanned a range. Besides the influence of bloodline, what determined the difference?

  At first, he thought it was purely a matter of physical development. But after seeing his two brothers, he dismissed that theory. Now, he believed it was a combination of mind and body. And so, he had a foreboding feeling that the call of the Wastend would come to him earlier than expected. That thought made him restless.

  “Take me out every day from now on,” Bran requested. “Teach me about the wilds.”

  “Alright. I’ll also rotate some of the white wolves. It’s time they familiarize themselves with the surroundings.”

  When Bran and Dani returned from their outing, they discovered an unfortunate fact: their home had been robbed. This realization left Bran feeling incredibly exasperated.

  Not because they couldn’t catch the thief, but because he knew he couldn’t do anything about it. Judging by the white wolves’ ck of arm and the hawks’ silence in the sky, it was undoubtedly an inside job. There was no need to guess who the culprit was.

  This whole situation started because Bran, in an attempt to ease his anxiety—or perhaps to convince himself that power wasn’t everything—had crafted an even more refined crossbow, one capable of rapid fire. The design was simple: a magazine above the bowstring could hold five bolts, dropping each one in sequence after the previous was fired. Combined with an auto-draw mechanism, it was, at best, a killing machine.

  Eager to show off, Bran had paraded his new invention before his sister at her training yard, reveling in her envious and jealous gres. With Dani by his side ensuring his safety, he had smugly decred that she wasn’t even allowed to touch it. He had walked away in triumph, basking in her frustration. But karma worked fast.

  “Dani, let me ask you something.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Can you defeat my sister’s squire?”

  Dani remained silent, refusing to acknowledge the question.

  Bran sighed. “I knew it.”

  With Bran’s personality, he wasn’t overly concerned about the theft. He had never been overly attached to possessions. It was just a tool for venting his emotions. But he didn’t want to let the incident slide either. He had been restless tely, and now he had the perfect excuse to find an outlet.

  So, with Dani by his side, he cornered his sister in the castle’s training yard. Seeing her eyes dart away guiltily, Bran felt a sudden wave of sympathy. He thought about the coming-of-age trial, the risks it entailed. His words softened: “I was going to give it to you anyway. I just realized after a few shots that I could make it even better.”

  Watching his sister visibly rex, Bran smiled.

  “How did you even get over such a high wall? My guess is your squire threw you over.” He chuckled. “There’s actually a tool that helps with climbing. I’ll make one for you someday.”

  On the way back, Dani smirked. “You came here looking to confront her.”

  “I suddenly realized I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Are you disappointed?”

  “No, I think this is good. It’s just… not very Northman of you.”

  “To hell with the Northmen.”