As soon as Viscount Vale, Edric, and Arin departed, an eerie silence settled over the manor's gate. The knights and servants stood still, their gazes subtly shifting toward the remaining guests with cautious curiosity.
Lady Sera turned toward Orion and Elara, her soft yet authoritative voice breaking the silence.
"Children, come here."
Orion and Elara stepped forward, standing side by side before the distinguished guest—Lysandra Voss.
With graceful ease, Lady Sera gestured toward Orion. "This is Orion, my sister Celia's son and Lord Vale's third son." Then, placing a gentle hand on Elara's shoulder, she continued, "And this is Elara, my and Lord Vale's daughter."
Lysandra's sharp emerald eyes studied them intently.
First, she regarded Elara. Her long, flowing black hair and deep black eyes exuded noble grace. Every movement of hers was poised yet carried a youthful charm. After a moment, Lysandra gave a small nod, as if approving of what she saw.
Then, her gaze shifted to Orion.
Her breath hitched—but only for a fraction of a second.
Bluish-white hair, untamed yet effortlessly captivating. Piercing blue eyes that held a quiet intensity. A sculpted jawline, sharp and refined. He carried himself with an air of regality, yet his fair complexion softened his presence, lending him an almost ethereal quality.
Why... does he feel so different?
Lysandra's gaze deepened, subtly probing the energy within him.
Novice, 4-star. Not weak by standards who get blessing not more than months before, but nothing exceptional—at least, not on the surface. Yet something about him made her feel an inexplicable pull.
Reining in her curiosity, she spoke with measured politeness. "Greetings, Young Master Orion. Young Miss Elara."
Orion, already accustomed to noble etiquette, responded with a composed nod. "Greetings, Miss Voss."
Elara followed with a graceful curtsy. "It is an honour to meet you, Miss Voss."
Lysandra's lips barely curled into a polite nod before her expression turned unreadable again.
Lady Sera smiled at the exchange and turned to Orion. "Son, could you escort Lady Lysandra and her fellow students to the guesthouse near our mansion?"
She added gently, "Your mother and I must oversee preparations for the banquet."
Orion smiled lightly. "Of course, Mother. Leave it to me."
Elara added with elegance, "We'll take care of them, Mother!"
With the task assigned, Orion turned to Lysandra and the small group accompanying her. "Please, follow us."
Lysandra nodded, stepping in beside him, while the others followed behind.
The guesthouse within the Vale estate was an elegant two-story structure, built to accommodate esteemed guests. The polished white stone exterior gleamed under the afternoon sun, while noble banners bearing the Vale family crest fluttered in the breeze.
Tall knights in silver armour stood at attention outside the entrance, hands resting on the hilts of their swords. Their gazes remained neutral but ever-watchful as Orion and Elara led the group inside.
The interior was no less impressive—a spacious hall illuminated by golden chandeliers, their warm glow casting soft shadows across the fine tapestries depicting past victories of the Vale family. Plush carpets lined the floors, and the air carried a faint scent of lavender.
Orion efficiently assigned rooms to each guest, ensuring they were comfortably settled. Finally, only Lysandra remained.
He led her to the last room at the end of the hall—larger and more luxuriously furnished than the others. A grand bed draped in soft silk sheets, mahogany furniture, and an elegant vanity gave the space an air of refinement.
At the doorway, Orion gestured toward the room. "Miss Voss, this will be your room."
Lysandra took in the room with a calm gaze before turning to him. "Thank you, Young Master Orion. Young Miss Elara."
Just as Orion and Elara turned to leave, Lysandra suddenly spoke.
"Wait, Young Master Orion."
Orion stopped, glancing back. "Is there something you need?"
Her emerald eyes locked onto his. "I want to confirm something."
Both Orion and Elara tilted their heads slightly. "What is it?" Elara asked.
"I heard a rumour on my way to Valeric City," she said casually, though her eyes remained focused on Orion. "That someone received a Golden Blessing."
Orion blinked, mildly surprised, then nodded. "Yes, it's true."
Lysandra's emerald eyes lingered on him for a moment before she gave a simple nod. "I see."
Something about the way she observed him made Elara shift slightly closer to Orion, her fingers tightening around the hem of her dress.
After a brief pause, Orion asked, "Anything else, Miss Voss?"
She shook her head. "No. That's all."
After ensuring the guests were comfortably settled, Orion turned back. "Then, we'll see you at the banquet, Miss Voss."
Lysandra merely nodded; her expression thoughtful.
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As they walked back toward the mansion, Elara spoke up. "Brother, I'm going to my room to prepare for the banquet."
Orion nodded. "Alright."
After watching her disappear into the mansion, he let out a quiet sigh.
Now… I think it's time to hone my swordsmanship.
With his silver sword in hand, Orion made his way to the secluded garden. The sun painted the sky shine beautifully, casting long shadows across the courtyard.
He unsheathed his blade, feeling its cool weight in his palm.
Step. Turn. Slash.
His movements were fluid, effortless. The blade danced in his hands, carving through the air with swift precision. His stance was firm, yet every motion flowed like water—one strike melting into the next.
With a sudden burst of speed, he pivoted, bringing his sword down in a sharp arc. The force split the air, sending a gust of wind rippling through the leaves.
He transitioned into a defensive form, then countered with a lightning-fast thrust—an instinctive strike honed over past lifetimes.
Despite his current cultivation, his body take time adject and engrave new muscle memory of his past life technique and swordsman ship.
Each slash, each pivot, each breath carried the echo of a forgotten legend.
Yet, as powerful as his form was, a bitter realization gnawed at him. This body is still weak…
Gritting his teeth, he pushed harder, his strikes gaining a relentless rhythm. The garden filled with the sharp clang of metal slicing through air.
Lost in his training, he only stopped when he noticed the sun dipping below the horizon. His chest rose and fell with steady breaths, sweat glistening on his skin.
I lost track of time while cultivating…
He sheathed his sword, exhaling slowly.
"I need a bath first."
------------
Refreshed and dressed in a white robe embroidered with silver lightning streaks, Orion glanced at himself in the mirror. His damp bluish-white hair framed his piercing blue eyes, which now shimmered with quiet confidence.
Not bad.
Descending to the main hall, he found the mansion eerily silent. Spotting a maid, he inquired, "Where are Mother Celia and Mother Sera?"
"They have already left for the banquet hall, Young Master," she answered. "Lady Elara is still in her room. Shall I call her?"
Orion shook his head. "No need. I'll call her myself."
At Elara's door, he knocked. "Elara, are you not ready yet?"
Her soft voice came from inside. "Wait, Brother! I'm coming!"
When the door opened, Orion's breath hitched.
Elara stood in a sapphire-blue gown; her delicate frame accentuated by the flowing fabric. Her usually free-flowing black hair was styled elegantly, adorned with tiny silver ornaments that glimmered under the light.
For a moment, he was silent.
Elara fidgeted. "Brother… how do I look?"
Orion smiled. "You look beautiful, Elara. Very elegant."
A soft blush dusted her cheeks, but she quickly lowered her gaze. "T-Thank you, Brother."
Orion nodded. "Come, let's not keep the guests waiting."
As they linked arms and stepped into the grand banquet hall, a magnificent sight awaited them.