Noah awoke to a gentle glow of morning light spilling through gauzy curtains, illuminating the room in a warm, golden haze. He inhaled deeply, catching a subtle blend of herbs and pinewood layered over the faint mustiness of old parchment. Thick blankets, embroidered with forest-green and gold thread, weighed reassuringly across his limbs—an unfamiliar luxury compared to his family’s now-devastated estate.

  A quiet knock and the creak of the door broke the stillness. A guard stepped inside, offering a slight bow. “Good morning, sir,” he said kindly. “Apologies for the watch—Miss Ava tried sneaking in last night…….multiple times.” He gave a conspiratorial smile before straightening. “Fresh clothes are in the dresser. When you’re ready, the elder awaits in the council room.”

  Once the guard withdrew, Noah rose and dressed in a black tunic and dark green trousers, surprisingly well-fitted. Catching his reflection in a nearby mirror, he saw that most of the black splotches from yesterday’s battle had receded; only a few lingered on his forearms, reminders of the power he drew upon. A small pang of apprehension twisted in his stomach at the thought of testing those limits again.

  Leaving the bedroom, Noah navigated the manor’s hushed corridors. Polished wooden floors and subtle wall carvings—depicting nature spirits and forest growth—hinted at the Starbell family’s reverence for álfheimr’s greenery. Eventually, he entered a spacious council room softly lit by overhead lanterns and morning sun filtering through stained-glass panels. Rows of bookshelves lined the walls, while a large, circular table commanded the center.

  Seated at one side was Ava’s father, Orist—his short blond hair and piercing emerald eyes giving him a stern, formidable air. Across from him, Ava’s mother, Elanor, radiated a gentle grace that matched her lime-green hair and warm golden gaze. Elder Novis, head of this household, occupied the seat of honor—an imposing figure with silver hair, broad shoulders, and crimson eyes that conveyed both wisdom and power.

  Ava herself sat near her mother, breaking into a radiant smile the moment Noah entered. Lux, perched lazily in a corner, looked half-interested at best, though a subtle inclination of his head acknowledged Noah’s arrival.

  “Please,” Elder Novis said, his deep voice resonating against the wooden walls, “join us. We have much to discuss.”

  Noah settled into an empty chair, sensing the tension that permeated the room. He could feel the weight of multiple gazes—some apprehensive, others quietly measuring his resolve.

  Novis broke the silence. “So the rumors are true,” he said gravely, eyes flicking toward Lux. “You’ve taken up the hero’s mantle for this era.”

  He let the words settle before continuing, his voice gathering a steeled edge. “I have a request, Noah. Break off your engagement to my granddaughter.”

  Ava shot to her feet, face pale. “Grandpa, no!” she cried, only to wilt under his reproachful glare.

  “Sit down,” Novis ordered. Though his tone was stern, he exhaled softly once Ava obeyed. Turning back to Noah, he spoke more gently, “This has nothing to do with the tragedy your family suffered. I hold you in high regard. I’ve treated you all these years as if you were my own blood, and I will continue to do so. But a hero’s path—especially one who would defy the Black Witch—is strewn with danger. I refuse to let Ava be caught in that storm.”

  Orist leaned forward, his voice like flint striking steel. “If you truly intend to hunt the Black Witch, you’ll face enemies far beyond your current strength. How can you protect Ava when you’re struggling just to survive?”

  Elanor cut in, her tone resolute despite its softness. “Love can be as powerful a shield as any, Orist. Pushing them apart doesn’t guarantee she’ll be safe.”

  Orist scowled. “You’re blinded by sentiment, Elanor. Hero or not, he can’t guarantee her safety.”

  Noah felt a surge of heat flare in his chest. Slamming a fist on the table, he locked eyes with Orist. “I will protect her,” he said, voice low with conviction. “I won’t let anyone take that from me.”

  Elder Novis regarded Noah with a spark of interest. “If you’re so confident, prove it. Challenge Orist here and now—without regalia on his side. Win, and your engagement stands. Lose, and the matter ends.”

  A humorless chuckle escaped Orist’s lips. “It’s been a while since I’ve had to remind someone how outmatched they are.” He settled back, arms folded, eyeing Noah with cool dismissal.

  Noah returned the stare unflinchingly. “I accept,” he said quietly, though every syllable throbbed with fierce resolve. “I won’t lose. Not to you. Not to anyone.”

  They followed the winding stone corridors until they emerged into a vast training hall built from dark granite and polished marble. Torchlight flickered across walls adorned with ornate banners—each bearing the Starbell family’s crest, an emerald apple entwined with thorns, proud symbols of a lineage forged through countless battles.

  Faint scuff marks and spiderweb cracks mottled the polished floor, silent witnesses to long-past victories and defeats. One side of the chamber bristled with gleaming weaponry—swords, axes, spears—each meticulously maintained. Targets lined the opposite wall: straw dummies, weathered mannequins in dented armor, and bullseyes streaked with the scars of combat.

  An elevated platform ringed the arena, already crowded with onlookers. Knights in shining plate leaned over the railings, their faces a blend of amusement and hushed respect. At the forefront stood Ava’s family. Orist casually crossed his arms, shoulders rolling in anticipation—clearly relishing the prospect of this duel. Ava herself looked torn between pride and worry, her gaze locked on Noah as if urging him to stand firm. Even Lux had taken a seat, lounging with that trademark detachment, though a flicker of curiosity danced in his eyes.

  Noah stepped into the center of the arena, mirroring Orist’s approach. The older man’s posture radiated lethal confidence—fluid yet coiled, like a serpent waiting to strike. With a dismissive glance at Noah, Orist let a faint, predatory grin curl his lips.

  “This is your last chance to back out, boy,” he said, tone rich with mock concern. “No one expects much from you—why disappoint them further?”

  Noah offered no reply, only a silent step forward. His eyes, gleaming with draconic resolve, said all he needed to.

  At a signal from one of the knights, Orist sank into a deceptively relaxed stance. A trickle of metallic light shimmered around him, solidifying into ghostly chains that hovered like restless serpents.

  “My ability, Prison Master, drains energy from anyone bound by these chains,” Orist announced, knuckles cracking. “Once you’re caught, you’ll feel your strength bleed away. Then I can hammer you with as many blows as I like.”

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  Noah’s grip on his sword tightened, face set in fierce determination. “You can try.”

  A tense hush gripped the hall. Even the torch flames seemed to flicker less brightly, as if waiting for the first strike.

  With a sudden burst of speed, Noah lunged, sword flashing toward Orist’s flank. In a display of effortless skill, Orist sidestepped, driving his fist into Noah’s ribs with punishing force and sending him staggering backward.

  The chains reacted instantly—lancing forward in a metallic rattle. Noah slashed through the first few links, sparks flying, but more emerged, weaving around him like a steel-web trap. Orist pressed the advantage, each punch forcing Noah further off-balance, while fresh chains slithered closer.

  “What’s wrong, ‘hero’?” Orist taunted, voice echoing with cruel amusement. “Can’t handle a real fight?”

  Despite Noah’s desperate defenses, one chain finally snaked around his arm, its iron links squeezing tight. Immediately, an overwhelming fatigue crashed over him, sapping his strength in waves. Orist yanked Noah forward by the chain, landing a fist into his stomach with brutal precision. Noah gasped, doubling over, lungs burning for air.

  Orist sneered, reeling back for the next blow. “Is that it? Pathetic, you can’t protect my daughter like this.”

  Doubling over, Noah fought to remain upright, pain and exhaustion battling the fierce determination in his eyes. But he refused to yield. The flickering flames reflected off his sword—still raised, despite the odds—and in that moment, the crowd held its collective breath, waiting to see if the so-called hero had anything left to give.

  The chains coiled tighter, pinning Noah’s arms and legs as Orist circled like a predator savoring his prey. A sneer twisted Orist’s lips, and though Noah’s face was drawn with pain, a fierce spark remained in his eyes.

  “Still standing? Impressive,” Orist mocked, yanking one of the chains so hard that Noah toppled to his knees. “Let’s see how stubborn you are after I’ve beaten every last bit of strength out of you.”

  He punctuated his threat with a bone-jarring punch to Noah’s face, drawing a trickle of blood that slid across Noah’s cheek. A few knights murmured in uneasy tones, while others traded grim looks—they’d seen heroes crumble under less.

  But Noah actually smiled, defiance tugging at his lips. The black markings along his arms began to pulse and spread, dark energy flowing beneath his skin. He opened himself to the charged atmosphere, tapping into the weight of emotions that everyone tried to bury: the knights’ collective fatigue, their private envy and self-doubt, and above all else, Ava’s intense, unwavering worry—the love behind it embracing him like a bittersweet warmth.

  Inhaling shakily, Noah felt those burdens fuse into a searing current of raw strength. Dark circles expanded over his skin, a heavy testament to the negative energy he was channeling. It hurt—absorbing all that pent-up frustration and fear—but it also ignited something deep within him.

  “Ava,” he whispered, letting her concern anchor him. “I can feel your faith in me. I won’t lose. Not now, not ever.”

  From the sidelines, Ava’s face lit up, her initial worry giving way to a radiant grin. She cupped her hands around her mouth, voice echoing through the hall. “Alright, Noah—kick his ass! Make him look so bad Mom won’t even kiss him anymore!”

  Orist’s expression tightened, though a flicker of reluctant admiration crossed his gaze. “You’ve certainly won her heart. But don’t think for a second I’ll hold back from protecting her—especially from you.”

  Energy surged within Noah until his muscles trembled with power. It was as if every heartbreak, every doubt, every scrap of hidden anguish in the room coalesced around him, turning his limbs into conduits of dark, unstoppable force. The weight of it pressed against his mind, yet it also steadied him, fueling his determination.

  Meanwhile, Orist’s chains rattled like metallic vipers, weaving closer with lethal intent. His hands flexed, and the air around him crackled with the promise of more punishment. “Show me,” Orist demanded, eyes glinting. “Show me what love and resolve can really do.”

  Noah set his jaw, eyes blazing as the black markings crept across his neck. A storm of conflicting emotions coursed through him—pain, hope, and unwavering devotion. He would bear all of it if it meant seizing victory and keeping Ava by his side.

  His grip on his sword tightened, and he dug his heels into the blood-stained floor, refusing to give an inch. If Orist wanted proof of his worth, Noah would shatter every chain, every doubt, and rise stronger than ever.

  Noah stood, blood trickling from his nose, defiance burning in his eyes. A wild grin tugged at his lips. “I’m about to give everyone a show,” he declared, sweeping his arms wide. “Watch closely—your captain is about to be beaten to a bloody pulp.”

  Orist scoffed, crossing his arms as metal chains coiled protectively around him. “Bold talk. It won’t matter; provocation only works if you’re near my level. I can see right through your little act.”

  Noah rolled his eyes. “Act? I’m not trying to rile you—I just wanted the audience to pay attention.” He nodded at the onlookers, from the gathered knights to Ava, who watched with tense anticipation. “A hero’s words are meant to move hearts, aren’t they?”

  Without warning, Noah charged forward, dark energy crackling along his sword. The clash of steel on chains rang out, sparks bursting from the impact. Orist’s features remained impassive.

  “Enthusiasm is nice,” he said wryly, “but raw force alone won’t get you far.”

  Noah felt Orist’s strength pushing back against his blade. He could practically taste the crowd’s tension, and he drew on it like fuel. Muscles burning with fresh energy, he shoved Orist’s chains back a fraction of an inch—enough to stir murmurs of surprise. Noah’s eyes lit with a fierce resolve.

  “Remember this moment,” he announced, voice echoing through the hall. “A real hero doesn’t just fight—he makes the impossible possible.”

  Orist’s reply came with another lash of his chains, sweeping in a wide arc to pin Noah in place. But Noah darted aside, barely evading the links as they slammed into the floor. His blade pulsed with that ominous darkness as he launched a swift overhead slash.

  Orist met the strike smoothly, twisting his chains around Noah’s sword. The brutal torque nearly wrenched the weapon from Noah’s hands, forcing him to stagger back. Quick as a viper, Orist slammed a chain against Noah’s flank, sending a jolt of pain through his body.

  “Reckless energy only carries you so far,” Orist taunted, his tone cool.

  Noah gritted his teeth and pressed the attack anyway, spinning and feinting to find an opening. But each strike was foiled by Orist’s unerring defense, honed by years of experience. Finally, in a single ruthless motion, Orist looped his chain around Noah’s sword. With a sharp yank, the blade clattered across the floor, far out of reach.

  Panic fluttered in Noah’s chest. Weaponless and exhausted, he stood on shaking legs, bruises throbbing. But he refused to surrender. He felt a cough rising—the one he’d been suppressing since the fight began. A violent spasm rocked him, and a spray of blood spattered across Orist’s face, catching the captain off-guard.

  “Damn it—!” Orist cursed, blinking furiously against the sudden sting in his eye.

  Noah seized the moment, delivering a powerful kick behind Orist’s knee. Orist toppled, chains rattling in a clatter of metal. The entire room fell silent, stunned that Noah had managed to bring the captain down.

  Orist’s voice rumbled with grudging respect as he stood up. “You scrappy little brat. I don’t care what underhanded tricks you use or how close you come to killing yourself. Just never let my daughter come to harm. If you do, I will kill you.”

  He extended a calloused hand. Noah, battered and struggling for breath, accepted the gesture and found himself hoisted upright.

  “I promise,” Noah rasped. “I’ll protect her with everything I have.”

  A squeal of triumph rang out before Ava barreled into Noah, wrapping him in an exuberant hug. “You did it!” she shouted, eyes brimming with joy. “That means Grandpa has no excuse now.”

  Elder Novis, overseeing from a high vantage, sighed but conceded with a nod. “I’ll allow the engagement to stand. Well done, young hero.”

  From the sidelines, Lux leaned against the wall, letting out an exasperated mutter. “Cyrus isn’t going to like this. Guess we’re postponing our next move till tomorrow…”