The market of Velrend.
A child was walking right through the center of the busy street. Covered in dust, yet wearing fine silk. White hair with a faint whisper of violet. Just wandering — happily.
Everyone stared. Confused.
Then a man — tall, broad-shouldered — squinted. "Wait... is that Young Master Veil?"
Whispers rippled through the crowd.
*"Young Master Veil?"*
*"He looks exactly like Madam Lily."*
*"I heard he was raised in secret after she passed."*
*"Lord Falcon hasn't come out to the city since she died..."*
Veil didn't care about the whispers. A scent hit his nose.
Freshly baked cookies.
He ran toward a bakery and stopped. He reached his small hand out toward the counter. The baker looked at him with a warm smile, about to speak —
Before he could, a figure standing directly behind Veil — covered entirely in a dark cloak — tossed a silver coin onto the counter. A silent gesture.
The baker didn't ask questions. He filled a bag with cookies and handed it over.
The gossiping crowd fell quiet. People stepped back.
*"Who is that strange man?"*
*"Must be the Young Master's bodyguard."*
The cloaked figure raised a hand. *Disperse.* The crowd quietly scattered back to their business.
---
Veil, happily munching on a cookie, suddenly stopped.
His eyes locked onto a toy shop. Swords, wooden horses, masks. But his gaze was fixed on one thing — a small, brightly painted toy shield hanging near the top.
He reached for it. Couldn't reach.
He looked back and spoke.
"Clar... I want that."
The cloaked figure flinched. He crouched down, pulling the fabric away from his face.
"You recognized me, My Lord?" Clad asked — genuinely shocked.
Faint whispers started again from the remaining onlookers.
*"Hey, isn't that the green-haired mage?"*
*"No, that's Healer John!"*
*"No, you idiot — that's the fire mage, Clad!"*
Clad stood and bought the shield. He handed it to Veil.
Looking at the child holding it, Clad smiled to himself. *Children always choose the path of their destiny. Does he have the soul of a Guardian Knight?*
"Young Master," Clad asked, full of curiosity. "Why did you choose this shield?"
Veil looked at him and answered instantly.
"Shiny."
Clad scratched his head. A defeated sigh escaped him. He picked Veil up in his arms.
"Let's go, Young Master. Lord Drake is already home. The Viscount must be getting tense."
"Okk." Veil said — munching on another cookie.
---
Somewhere far away.
A luxurious palace. A room where the light barely reached.
A man sat in a heavy chair, his face hidden in shadow. The faint sunlight from the window caught only the rich silk of his clothes.
Footsteps. A knock at the door.
"Come in." A heavy, echoing voice.
A man stepped into the dark room. Only his boots were visible in the sliver of light near the desk.
"What is the news?"
"Greetings, My Lord." The man bowed. "We have succeeded in creating the Corrupted."
"But."
"But what?" The Lord tapped his fingers against the desk.
The man hesitated. "Our child-experiment base... it was destroyed by the Dragon Knights. And in the Northern ambush... they interfered again."
The standing man suddenly raised a cloth to cover his nose. "My Lord... it is too dark in here. Shall I light a candle?"
"No," the Lord said. "I was working all night. I want to rest my eyes."
"Understood."
The man took a step back. His boot bumped into something on the floor.
It wasn't metal. It wasn't wood.
Heavy. Soft.
As it rolled slightly into the sliver of light — his breath hitched.
A human leg. Half-eaten. Torn flesh exposing the bone.
The Lord noticed him looking. "Ah. That is just breakfast for my little pets."
From the deeper shadows — a low, guttural growl.
The man's heart pounded. Fear gripped his throat.
"Do not worry, Zenos," the Lord said smoothly. "I won't do anything to you. As long as you remain useful."
"Y-Yes, My Lord." Zenos reached into his robe with trembling hands and produced a letter. "Here is the report."
The Lord took it. "It doesn't matter. This is only the beginning. We will ruin that country completely. I will have my revenge."
He leaned forward slightly.
"This time... that country does not have the Mad Sword. They don't have the Hero. And their group of Black Knights is gone. Only that bastard sitting on the throne — King Solaris. He is our only problem."
Zenos swallowed. "Any other orders, My Lord?"
"Not right now." A pause. "How far has the Corrupted evolved?"
"Only its consciousness remains, My Lord."
A louder growl from the dark corner.
The Lord laughed. Slow. Chilling. *"Huhuuhuuhu."*
Then his tone shifted. Cold.
"Is there any news of him? Dead or alive? The higher-ups have strictly ordered us to find out."
"No, My Lord," Zenos answered. "After all these years... there is still no trace of him anywhere."
"Fine. Leave. And next time you enter my lab — knock."
"Yes, My Lord."
---
Zenos stepped out and pulled the heavy door shut. He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.
*I did knock,* he thought. *If it wasn't for his knowledge of the Corrupted, the higher-ups would have killed that lunatic long ago. Whatever. I need to get out of here.*
---
**[Velrend Estate — The Training Hall]**
"Wait. Where is Veil?" Viscount Rudious asked, his eyes scanning the dusty hall.
Drake answered casually. "I sent Clad with him. In disguise."
"Oh." Rudious let out a long, heavy breath of relief.
Then —
His eyes sharpened. He felt something.
"Alright," he said to the boys. "Prepare for training."
He turned and walked away — heading straight toward the direction of the presence.
He stepped into a quiet corridor.
And then —
A figure wrapped in a dark cloak appeared directly in front of him.
---
**[Chapter 20 — End]**