Sigh.
Kimal exhaled slowly, steadying his breath—maintaining composure.
"Any reason given for the suicide?"
Click.
The guard opened a metal case. Inside, folded carefully, was a single piece of paper.
Crackle.
He unfolded it and began to read.
"Those filthy humans should die.
Whoever is reading this, remember my sacrifice for my homeland.
Kill those invaders who dare step foot on our sacred soil.
For this mission, I sacrificed a brother.
His death will not be in vain.
Master, I have fulfilled your command."
The guard hesitated. "It sounds like… the work of a fanatic. Some unhinged nationalist."
Kimal didn't respond at first. His eyes lingered on the word: Master.
Someone is pulling the strings, he thought. Like a playwright staging each move.
He turned his gaze back to the guard. "Was there anything else besides the note?"
The guard nodded quickly. "Yes, my lord."
He reached into his coat and retrieved a copper ring.
"We found this beside the corpse. Upon testing it, we confirmed—it's an essence weapon."
Kimal extended his hand.
Place.
The guard carefully placed the ring in his palm.
Kimal studied it in silence. His fingers traced the small crest etched onto its surface—a hammer enclosed within a perfect circle.
"…The Fourth Province," he murmured. "Ironhelm."
After a pause, he handed the ring back.
"Send a team to Ironhelm. Investigate the craftsman who made this. If it was forged in the capital, tracing it should be easy enough."
He turned back toward the window, eyes narrowed.
The ring's owner… this 'Master'... they're not finished yet.
And I have a feeling we've only seen the first act.
William lay on his bed, eyes fixed on the intricate engravings etched into the ceiling.
Lines. Spirals. Patterns only the palace architects knew the meaning of.
His voice was barely a breath.
"They must have figured it out by now."
He closed his eyes.
His mind drifted—
Back to that morning.
Back to him.
Thatmoment.
The vendor's hands trembled slightly as he noticed the boy staring.
"Hey, kid. What're you looking at? Give it back," he snapped, irritation flaring.
William said nothing.
He simply lifted the earring—elegant, thin, with a faint shimmer—and turned it between his fingers.
Then, with calm purpose, he clipped it onto his left ear.
Click.
A slow smirk crept onto his lips. His gaze—cold, sharp—locked onto the vendor.
He took a step forward, his voice a whisper soaked in power.
"I, William of House Medici… command you."
The vendor blinked.
Once.
Then… stillness.
The spark in his eyes vanished, swallowed by a dull, vacant haze.
William stepped even closer, his tone low but precise—each word a thread of control.
"You will drop a coin when I cough.
When the guard picks it up, you'll shake his hand.
Then you'll write a letter—exactly as I say it."
He watched the vendor's lifeless face as he recited:
"Those filthy humans should die.
Whoever is reading this, remember my sacrifice for my homeland.
Kill those invaders who dare step foot on our sacred soil.
For this mission, I sacrificed a brother.
His death will not be in vain.
Master, I have fulfilled your command."
William reached into his coat and pulled out a copper ring.
Dazir's ring.
He placed it gently into the vendor's hand.
Then leaned in, his voice a whisper only shadows could hear.
"then… while still holding the earring—
Kill yourself."
Backin his room,
Blink.
Blink.
"Yesterday, I tested the earring's power and its limitations," William murmured to himself, staring at his reflection in the polished mirror.
"And it seems… it works just like in the novel."
He raised a hand, adjusting the earring slightly.
First: I can only control two people at a time.
Second: I cannot control the same person twice
.
Third: I must look directly into the target's eyes to issue a command.
He paused, eyes narrowing slightly.
"Now... only one condition remains to be tested."
The person I command must be weaker than me.
Sat.
He pulled on his boots.
Clunk.
The door creaked open.
Step.
Step.
His footsteps echoed down the silent hallway.
Eventually, they came to a stop—right at the entrance of the palace's training grounds.
Slash.
Stab.
Swing.
David moved like a machine—sweat gleaming on his brow, his breathing calm and measured.
Each strike with the wooden sword was fluid, practiced, relentless.
Step. Step.
William approached slowly, quietly.
David paused mid-swing. Then turned.
He wiped his face with the back of his sleeve.
"Are you here to train, young master?" he asked, panting softly.
William shook his head.
"No. I have something to ask you."
David tilted his head. "What is it, young master?"
William looked straight into his eyes.
Sharp. Focused. Absolute.
"I, William of House Medici, command you to obey me."
David blinked once.
"What can I do for you, young master?" he replied calmly.
William's gaze didn't waver.
"Use 100% of your domain. Engulf the entire palace."
David's expression stiffened. He stared at William, confused.
Tilt.
He tilted his head slightly, frowning. "I… can't do that, young master. That would be dangerous."
Sigh.
William's shoulders sank. He put on a pained, disappointed expression.
"You're so cruel, David," he said, his voice soft—wounded.
"I thought… just for once… I'd get to see the full power of your domain."
"But I guess you're just… boring."
He turned away with a disheartened expression and walked off slowly.
David watched him go.
A faint wrinkle formed on his brow.
"Was I… too harsh?"
_____________________________________________________________
"Master, please… don't sell me! Please!"
Grab.
A slender hand clutched the hem of a worn leather jacket.
"You said you needed me. You said I'd always be useful to you!"
Drip. Drip.
Tears streamed down her cheeks like a broken dam.
"I'll work harder. I'll do anything. Just… don't sell me…"
The man paused, looking down at the trembling woman before him.
She held onto him as if he were the last thread holding her to this world.
Caress.
His hand moved gently, brushing through her dark, silky hair.
"Daisy… you know you're all I have," he said softly, a pained smile spreading across his lips.
"But my family's situation… it's worse than ever. I don't have a choice."
His voice cracked.
Then, with forced warmth:
"Don't worry. I'll buy you back. One day… we'll be together again. I promise."
The woman's sobs stilled.
Sunlight touched her face, revealing ebony hair glistening in gold and eyes like molten sunrise.
Her ears—longer and more pointed than any human's—gave her away.
An elf.
She wiped her tears, trying to believe.
"Do you promise me?"
He nodded, though his gaze didn't quite meet hers.
And then—
Hands. Shackles. Movement.
The men led her away.
And she never looked back.