Owen lands hard, boots grinding into stone.
Mana erupts from him like a wound torn open. Black, dense, violent. His eyes are wrong. Not furious. Not sane. Just… twisted. A grin curls on his face like he's been waiting for this exact moment to lose himself.
The pressure alone forces the surrounding knights back. Some stumble. Some freeze. A few genuinely wonder, 'why am I here? why did I wake up today?'
A Lady stands at the manor's gate unmoved.
She meets his gaze and smiles, sharp and thrilled. "So," she says lightly, "you wanna go?"
Owen laughs. It's ugly. Unfiltered. Seishi hums in his grip, the sound low and eager, like a beast stretching its limbs.
"Bring it on."
Her eyes flick to the blade.
Black steel. Ancient. Wrong.
" Still haunting me in you're death eh?"
Her own sword suddenly answers with a cry of excitement, vibrating in her hand like it's offended she hasn't drawn it yet. She exhales once, slow and controlled.
"Let's see how well you do."
A split millisecond.
Steel flashes.
She's already moving.
Her blade is aimed straight for his chest, precise enough to end it clean-CLANG.
Owen blocks just in time.
The impact detonates.
A thunderous shockwave ripples outward, stone cracking beneath their feet as the air itself screams. Knights shield their faces. Banners tear free. The first clash is over before anyone can even process it.
Owen snarls and shoves forward, rage blinding him. He presses the attack, swinging wide, heavy, hungry but all of it...Blocked. Instantly.
A kick slams into his side.
He guards it barely but the force still sends him flying, skidding across the ground in a shower of debris.
She doesn't wait.
Green lightning tears across the field as she dashes, leaving streaks in the air. Her blade glows as mana floods it, refined and merciless. She swings it in perfect form, a flawless horizontal arc meant to cleave him in two.
Owen bends backward.
The blade passes so close it shaves the air above his chest.
He snaps forward into a kick.
Nothing.
She flickers out of existence.
Owen's breath catches.
For a heartbeat, his mind isn't here.
It's Stonehaven.
It's laughter.
It's a dagger-wielder correcting his stance.
The rage spikes.
He vanishes.
Scatter Image.
Owen flickers, reappears, disappears again, faints layered over motion, motion layered over intent. He materializes in front of her, blade already mid-swing.
She smirks.
Her arc cleaves through him.
Air.
Afterimage.
Owen reappears behind her, already striking again but this time her expression cracks. Just a fraction. Surprise.
She forces her swing through, steel meeting steel—
CLANG.
Then Owen is gone again.
Mana signature is unreadable.
Not because he suddenly concealed it.
But because it's everywhere.
He's everywhere.
The air shivers. Afterimages overlap. Footsteps echo from nowhere. Her instincts scream, but there's nothing to lock onto.
She stops.
Slowly raises one hand.
Owen appears behind her mid-swing.
No hesitation.
No thought.
Only rage.
The battlefield holds its breath
"MANA ART," she says calmly,
"SKY JUDGEMENT !"
The sky answers.
BOOM.
A pillar of thunder crashes down like divine punishment, swallowing them both in blinding white. The sound is violent enough to rattle the manor windows, loud enough to make grown knights drop to one knee. The earth screams. The grass ignites.
For a moment, there is nothing but light.
Then dust.
Then silence.
As the smoke clears, Glauderia stands alone.
Her boots are planted firm, cloak fluttering softly as residual green lightning crawls across the ground before fading. Behind her, the grass has been scorched black, the earth glassed in places.
Owen lies there, motionless.
Baron Aldric exhales sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose as he steps forward. " You idiot, Glauderia… did you really have to go that far?"
She rolls her shoulder once, like she'd just stretched. "He attacked first."
Then, almost lazily, she turns her head. "So. Who's the kid?"
Aldric sighs. Deep. Tired. "He's the boy I was telling you about."
Her brow lifts."…Isn't he technically your son?"
"That 'son' just shouted at me, jumped out of my window, and tried to kill my guest."
Glauderia snorts. "Sounds like a growth spurt."
Her gaze drops to the unconscious body behind her. "So what now? You gonna yell at him again or carry him inside?"
"I'll send knights," Aldric mutters.
She bends down and picks up the black blade resting near Owen's hand.
Seishi hums.
Her expression darkens immediately."…Where did he get this?"
Aldric stiffens. "I hadn't seen it until recently. But I felt it. Its presence was… familiar." He pauses. "Is it who I think it's for?"
Glauderia's jaw tightens.
"I'd never forget the blade that almost took my life," she says flatly. "That old geezer was a maniacal monster."
She studies the weapon again, annoyed now. "And this brat swings it like it's a standard knight's sword."
"That's because he hasn't been to the east," Aldric counters.
She goes quiet.
As something shifts.
The weight in her hand vanishes.
Glauderia's eyes widen slightly.
Owen is standing.
No one saw him move.
Seishi is back in his grip, humming low, almost possessive. His clothes are scorched, hair messy, eyes dull empty in a way that's worse than anger. He walks up to her, stops, and bows. Perfectly polite. Perfectly controlled.
Then he turns and walks away.
No words.
No explanation.
Baron Aldric just stares at the two of them, exhausted beyond belief."…What is wrong with both of you?"
Glauderia watches Owen's back disappear, then smirks slowly.
"Hah," she says. "Zachary would love fighting this kid."
The office was dim, curtains half-drawn as late afternoon light cut the room into gold and shadow. Baron Aldric sat behind his desk, fingers laced, expression carved from concern. Glauderia leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, posture relaxed but her eyes were sharp. Always sharp.
"Garten der Schatten isn't moving randomly," Aldric said. "That's what's been bothering me."
He slid a stack of documents across the desk. Reports. Trade ledgers. Patrol logs. Missing persons lists.
"They've been up to something," he continued. "Slowly. Quietly. For years."
Glauderia pushed off the wall and flipped through the papers with one hand.
"They've been buying land through proxies," Aldric went on. "Old noble houses on the brink of collapse. Mining rights. Forest preserves. Places no one questions losing."
She stopped at one page.
"…Mana-dense regions," she muttered.
"Exactly," Aldric said. "Ley line intersections. Monster nesting zones. Ancient ruins buried beneath settlements. They aren't just experimenting for curiosity's sake."
He leaned back, eyes dark.
"They're preparing something big. A framework. Infrastructure. Whatever they're building requires mana on a massive scale and living test subjects."
Glauderia clicked her tongue.
"Fourth Shadow's obsession," she said. "Mana beasts, hybridization, forced evolution. He doesn't want weapons."
She looked up.
"He wants proof of concept."
Aldric nodded grimly.
"Stonehaven was one of their outer laboratories. Disposable. Remote enough that failure wouldn't matter. The letter Owen received?" He clenched his jaw. "Too clean. Too convenient. Meaning black rose guild is among their establishments. They wanted capable mercenaries. Fighters with unusual variables."
"And if they died," Glauderia added, "they'd still have more because black rose guild has branches all over the continent meaning no one important would suspect anything."
"Exactly."
She exhaled slowly.
"The Decagram commanders have been mobilizing too," she said. "Small movements. One here. One there. Not enough to alert the Royal Corps, but enough that if something goes wrong-"
"They can erase the evidence," Aldric finished.
Silence fell.
Then Aldric spoke again, quieter.
"If Owen goes after them alone… he won't come back."
Glauderia smirked.
"That's debatable but I'll be leaving with him today."
Aldric raised a brow.
She rolled her neck once. "Besides, I'd like someone to punch. Not many people get hit by Sky Judgement and survive. Fewer still stand up and walk away like nothing happened."
Aldric chuckled under his breath.
"Not too long ago," he said, "that boy had no mana at all. Then he returns drenched in it, dense, violent like it failed to consume him. Now he's going out to fight some secret organization. Make's me want to make my return."
Glauderia nodded. "Well to be honest I don't know why you're still a Baron when you can easily become a duke and expand Landergrey greatly. Its like you and Reinhardt got tired of being monsters. But then again Reinhardt is your knight. So what is it that's stopping Midgar's Berserker from making this kingdom feared again?"
"A family." Aldric replied flatly
"That's bullshit" Glauderia scoffed " Cedric is the third division Lieutenant of the Royal Knights Corpse. Family my ass."
"I- I mean my wife needs me." Aldric stuttered.
Glauderia stood up and stared Aldric down with disappointment.
"You barely leave the office to go see her and from what I'm seeing you don't even have work to do." she said coldly. " Think of it aren't you wasting your life by sitting around and doing nothing? People look down on this house. Is this what you wanted?"
"Fair enough, I hear you loud and clear." Aldric sighed.
-
Meanwhile Owen sat alone in the old training yard.
His back rested against the stone wall, knees drawn slightly inward, hands limp at his sides. His mind was empty. No grief. No rage. No thoughts.
Just… quiet.
The image of lightning crashing down replayed once, then faded.
Who was she?
He glanced down.
Seishi lay on the ground before him, black blade drinking in the light without reflection.
Slowly, he stood.
He stared at it, not with longing or anger but with uncertainty.
Footsteps.
No. Not footsteps.
Presence.
"Where did you get that katana?"
Owen flinched and spun, hand snapping toward the hilt on instinct.
Glauderia stood behind him, arms folded, amused.
"…Katana?" Owen asked.
She tilted her head. "Eastern blade. Forged for draw-speed and precision. Warriors there don't swing like us each draw is backed with the intent to kill or injure."
She stepped forward, picked up Seishi effortlessly.
"This one blade almost killed me."
Owen didn't respond.
She moved.
One smooth motion.
The blade cleared the sheath in a whisper, her stance low, grounded, breath steady. In a single draw, the air split. Not violently, beautifully. Like silk tearing. The motion ended before Owen even realized it began.
His eyes widened.
No wasted movement. No excess strength. Just flow.
She sheathed the blade and tossed it to him. Owen caught it instinctively.
"It's cursed," Glauderia said. "When the wielder's mind cracks, it pushes. Feeds rage. Turns grief into momentum."
Owen looked down at the blade.
"The sword loves massacre," she continued calmly. "It chooses its master not to empower them—but to torment them. Memories. Faces. Voices. Lost loved ones."
She paused.
"That's what the person who forged this blade told me before he died."
Owen swallowed.
"…What's your name?"
She stopped walking.
Then turned.
"Marshal Glauderia of House Oriana," she said. "And your next commander."
His eyes lifted.
"You're coming with me," she continued. "We're wiping out Garten der Schatten."
Something flickered in Owen's gaze. It was purpose.
He bowed deeply.
"Teach me everything you know," he said.
Glauderia smirked. "Was planning on it."
She turned away. "Carriage leaves in five."
Owen started to move then stopped.
He turned back, walked up to her, and held out Seishi.
"I don't deserve it," he said quietly. "I'm not its master. It uses me."
Then he walked away.
Glauderia stared at the blade in her hands for a long moment.
"…Troublesome kid, just like this idiot I'm holding." she muttered.
Her grip tightened.
And she smiled.