Chapter 8: Legacy Continues

The pendant glowed green.

A stunned silence filled the great hall. Duke Durak Fenrir stared at the shining crystal, his hand trembling around it.

Then, his knees gave out.

“Your Grace!” the head butler, Henry, called out, rushing to his side. The old man dropped beside the Duke as Durak knelt on the stone floor, still clutching the pendant like it might vanish if he let go.

Tears welled in the Duke’s eyes. His voice cracked as he whispered, “It’s true…”

I froze, unsure of what to do. I hadn’t expected this kind of reaction—not from someone so imposing. Not from someone who had been so cold just minutes ago.

Henry gently helped the Duke back to his feet, whispering something only he could hear. Durak took a deep breath, brushed himself off, and nodded.

“Henry,” the Duke said, his voice regaining some strength, “go reward the adventurers. Pay them double what was promised. Their service has been… priceless.”

“As you command,” Henry said with a bow. He turned to Lily, Sasha, and Bardock. “If you’ll come with me, I’ll see you to your reward.”

The three nodded and followed the butler out of the hall.

“Stewart,” Durak called just before the swordsman could leave the room.

“Yes, sir?”

“Tell your companions to return home for now. I have a separate task for you. Come back tomorrow, and I’ll explain it in full.”

Stewart gave a respectful nod. “Understood.”

Once the door shut behind him, the Duke turned to us—just the three of us now.

“Follow me,” he said, his tone quieter.

I offered my arm to Rias. “Careful, there’s a step ahead,” I whispered, guiding her through the elegant hallways.

The manor was vast, and every room we passed looked more pristine than the last. Paintings of past rulers adorned the walls, their eyes seeming to follow us. Eventually, we reached a tall door with iron handles shaped like snarling wolves. Durak pushed it open.

His office was grand—bookshelves stacked to the ceiling, a desk made of blackened oak, and a large map of the kingdom mounted behind it. He walked over and sat, gesturing for us to sit as well.

He folded his hands. “Tell me. What are your names?”

I answered, “Arthur.”

Rias spoke softly, “And I’m Rias.”

He nodded. “And where is your father? Where is Orpheus?”

The question hung in the air like a stone.

I looked at Rias, then back at him. “He’s missing. It’s been two years since we last saw him.”

His expression darkened. “Missing? How?”

So I told him. About the Cryall attack. About our father’s warning to run. About how we survived in the mountains alone.

As I spoke, I watched Durak’s expression shift. The sorrow was expected—but there was something else too.

Suspicion.

He muttered under his breath, “Cryall monsters don’t group together without reason. The only place they exist in numbers is the Deadman’s Plains west of Ikol… Why would they appear near a remote mountain village?”

He didn’t voice the thought aloud, but I could see it in his eyes. Something wasn’t right. And he intended to find out.

When I finished, the Duke leaned back and let out a sigh. “Thank you for telling me. That memory couldn’t have been easy.”

He looked to Rias next. “And what of your mother? Did Orpheus marry Penelope?”

Rias nodded. “Yes… but she passed away from illness.”

Durak closed his eyes. “I see… So it was true, then.”

Then he stood, clearing his throat. “Let’s change the subject for now. You two… have you ever wondered why you’re so tall for your age?”

I blinked. “Honestly, not until recently. We didn’t realize how unusual it was until we left the mountains.”

He smiled faintly. “That makes sense.”

He turned to the map behind him. “Let me tell you about your heritage.”

We listened as he recounted the tale.

“Long ago, the first king of Dival was chosen by the god Ikol and a wolf deity whose name has been lost to time. Ikol granted him three blessings to protect humanity: the first was the trait known as Giant’s Blood. It allowed him to grow taller and stronger than any normal man. That power made him a force to be reckoned with.

“The second was the ability to wield magic—he became the first magic user in the kingdom. The third blessing, though less known, came from the wolf god. It was the rare trait called Beast Bond—an affinity that allows its bearer to tame dire wolves as if they were kin.”

I froze.

That explained so much.

Everything I had read back at the Adventurers’ Guild suddenly made sense.

“The blessings were passed down,” the Duke continued. “From parent to child. That’s how you have them now.”

I nodded slowly, absorbing the weight of it. But a question lingered.

“If Giant’s Blood is inherited… why are you shorter than me?”

The Duke chuckled. “Ah. Good question.”

He muttered a few words under his breath, and then—suddenly—he began to grow.

His body expanded rapidly, towering over us as his clothes strained against his frame. His hair brightened to white, and in seconds, he stood a full two feet taller than me.

My jaw dropped.

“You see,” he said with a grin, “there’s a spell passed down in our bloodline. It lets us revert to our younger, smaller forms. It doesn’t prolong life—so don’t get any ideas of immortality or eternal youth—but it helps us blend in.”

Then, as quickly as he had grown, he shrank back to his former self. His beard darker again, his back a little more hunched.

He looked at us, his tone warm. “I’ll teach you both how to use that spell. It’ll help you fit in better.”

Then he called out, “Richard!”

In a blink, a man appeared beside the door. His presence was sudden, yet strangely familiar.

That’s when it hit me.

He was the man from last night—the one who appeared in my room like a ghost, with glowing eyes and a message from the Duke. The swirling colors in his irises, that quiet coldness in his voice… it was unmistakable.

“Richard,” the Duke said, stepping closer to him. “I need you to deliver a message. One to my brother—the King. Another to the head of House Halia. And the last to the headmaster of Dival’s Magic Academy.”

Richard gave a slight nod, his expression unreadable. “And what is the message?”

Durak leaned in and whispered something into his ear.

I couldn’t hear the words, but I felt a shift in the air—like the room had gotten colder, heavier.

Richard simply replied, “Very well then.”

And in the blink of an eye… he vanished.

No sound. No trace. Just gone—just like he had the night before.

Flabbergasted, I asked, “Who exactly is Richard?”

The Duke responded with calm assurance, “He’s my personal guard and messenger—and the only man I trust more than my head butler, Henry.”

With that, he walked over to the door. “Follow me,” he said, opening it.

We followed him into the hallway, the echo of our footsteps filling the silence.

As we walked, the Duke began to speak—not formally, but like a man carrying the weight of guilt on his shoulders. His voice was low, reflective.

“If your father were here…” he paused for a moment, “…I would’ve liked to apologize to him. I pushed him too hard. I wanted him to marry a noblewoman—not out of cruelty, but because I thought it would help heal the fractured ties between House Fenrir and House Northbow. I believed that union could bring strength, maybe even peace, to two houses that had grown distant.”

He sighed deeply, the sound more burdened than tired.

“I never expected him to disappear. And I certainly never expected you two to grow up in isolation… in the mountains… without the support you deserved.”

As we reached our destination, the Duke pointed to two doors along the hallway.

“These will be your rooms,” he said. “There’s not much in them for now, but that will change soon. I’ll be sending both Henry and one of the maids to take you into town tomorrow to get some proper clothes—and anything else that catches your eye. Can’t have you two looking like mountain dwellers.”

He gave a faint smile before turning to leave.

“They’ll wake you in the morning,” he added over his shoulder.

Once he was gone, I looked over at Rias. “Shall we check out the room?”

She nodded, and we stepped inside.

The room was massive. A large bed sat in the center, its dark wood frame carved with intricate designs. Tall windows lined the wall, revealing the sprawling fields that surrounded the manor. A door to the side led into a spacious bathroom, its polished stone floors gleaming under the light. Near the back of the room was a walk-in closet—completely empty.

“Huh,” I muttered. “The Duke wasn’t kidding. There’s not much in here.”

It was mostly just open space. Clean, polished, and grand… but bare. The essentials were there, but it felt more like a blank slate than a lived-in space.

Rias mumbled, “Do you think they’ll let the wolves inside? I want Geri and Freki by my side tonight.”

Surprised, I turned to her. “I’m sure they’ll allow it. And if they don’t… I’ll sleep on the floor so you don’t feel lonely.”

She chuckled softly. “That’s not it. I just like how soft their fur is. It’s like sleeping on a cloud.”

I grinned. “All right then, I’ll go get them.”

As I exited Rias’s room, I wandered through the halls, trying to find the front door. That’s when I ran into Henry.

“Hello, Master Arthur,” he greeted me with a gentle smile. “Where are you off to at this hour?”

“I was just heading outside to find my tames,” I replied.

“Ah, yes,” he said thoughtfully. “I remember hearing from the staff that there were some well-behaved wolves lying around the estate grounds.”

“Rias asked if her wolves could sleep beside her tonight. Is that all right?”

Henry gave a light chuckle. “It should be fine. After all, this isn’t the first time pets or tames have stayed inside the manor.”

“Not the first?” I asked curiously.

He nodded. “This estate has been home to many Dukes over the years. You may not know this, but the title of Duke can only be granted to those with royal blood. And the royal family has always had a fondness for taming rare and powerful creatures. It became tradition to allow their tames to roam freely throughout the mansion and its grounds.”

He paused before adding, “The most famous of them all was a dire wolf. But dire wolves are incredibly rare. The only real way to find one…”

“…is with another dire wolf,” I finished, the pieces starting to click in my mind.

Henry smiled at me knowingly. “Precisely.”

“Here, let me show you the way to the front door,” Henry offered kindly.

We walked through the quiet halls until we finally reached the grand entrance. The massive wooden doors creaked open, and the cool night air spilled inside.

Stepping out into the open, I called into the stillness, “Sköll, Hati, Freki, Geri!”

One by one, they came running into view from the shadows—Sköll with his dark fur and piercing blue eyes leading the pack, followed by the sleek and powerful Hati, then the white-furred Freki and Geri flanking them.

As they reached the door and stood before us, Henry froze.

His eyes widened, his breath caught in his throat.

He stared at the four massive dire wolves, their fur rippling in the moonlight, their presence as regal as it was intimidating.

“I… I thought you said you had wolves as tames,” he stammered. “Not dire wolves…”

Laughing at Henry’s reaction, I said, “Well, I mean… they are a type of wolf, right?”

Henry blinked, still a bit shaken. “You’re not wrong,” he muttered. “But nonetheless… they’re still quite rare.”

Once he recovered from the initial shock, he led me back through the quiet halls to our rooms. I opened Rias’s door and let Geri and Freki inside. They immediately padded over to her bed and laid down—one on each side of her.

Rias’s voice lit up with joy. “Thank you, Arthur.”

Smiling, I replied, “You’re welcome. Good night, Rias.”

“Good night, Arthur,” she whispered as I gently closed the door.

Henry, his task complete, offered a polite good night of his own before vanishing down the corridor.

I stepped into my room, finding it nearly identical to Rias’s—large windows, a spacious bed, and a whole lot of empty space.

I lay down, exhaustion quickly catching up with me. Sköll and Hati curled up beside me, one on each side like sentinels.

Within moments, sleep took me.

The next morning, I stirred to the sound of knocking at my door.

I got up and walked to the door to see who it was. When I opened it, standing just outside was Henry. Beside him stood a maid I didn’t recognize, and next to her was my sister—Rias—with Geri and Freki faithfully at her sides.

“The Duke wishes to see both of you,” Henry said politely.

“Oh? What’s it about?” I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

“I’m not entirely sure,” he replied. “But it seems he wants to teach you something before we head out shopping today.”

“I see,” I murmured, now fully awake.

Henry led the way, his polished shoes tapping softly against the marble floor. A maid walked just behind him, helping guide Rias by gently tapping her arm before each turn or step. I stayed close, offering quiet words when needed.

We stopped before a tall door etched with swirling patterns of silver and blue. Henry knocked once, then opened it with a graceful bow.

Inside, the Duke stood near a wide desk, papers stacked in neat piles and a map of Dival stretched across the wall behind him. He looked up as we entered, his eyes resting on me for a moment before drifting toward Rias.

“Come in,” he said, motioning toward the seats arranged before him. “There’s much to teach you.”

We entered, and I helped Rias into her chair before taking the one beside her. The Duke took a deep breath and began.

“I’ve read the guild’s report and seen the pendant respond to your blood. I’ve also heard from Henry that you’ve tamed four Dire Wolves,” he said, giving Henry a glance. “He failed to mention just how large your Sköll was. That’s the first Dire Wolf I’ve ever seen in person… and I’ve lived a long life.”

He paused, then turned serious. “Now, before we take you into the city, I want you both to understand what flows through your veins. I want you to understand magic.”

He held up a small crystal and let it hover above his palm, spinning slowly.

“All races capable of using magic—humans, elves, dwarves, even beastkin—have something called a mana heart. It’s an organ located just to the right of your physical heart. Its job is to generate and store mana, which is then distributed through specialized veins—what we call mana veins. These don’t carry blood, only energy.”

Rias tilted her head toward the sound of his voice. “So… we were born with this?”

“Yes,” the Duke said gently. “But in your case, it’s more advanced. You carry Giant’s Blood. It means your mana heart is larger and your mana veins wider. More mana, better circulation, faster casting.”

He turned to me. “That’s why you were able to tame wolves so easily—even though you didn’t understand the spell you were casting.”

I blinked. “But… I didn’t say anything. I just thought about them like family, like… pets.”

“That’s all it took,” the Duke said. “Visualization is the heart of magic. Words—chants—are just tools to help focus that vision. The stronger the image, the clearer the intent, the more effective the spell.”

He raised his hand, and a faint glow surrounded it. “To cast a spell, you move mana to a part of your body—often your hands—while visualizing what you want to happen. If you use a chant, it focuses that image.”

He pointed to himself.

“My favorite spell is one that’s been passed down through our bloodline. It’s called Illusion of Mortality.”

He stood and closed his eyes.

“Illusion of Mortality,” he whispered.

In an instant, his body shifted—his frame shrunk, his beard thinned, his posture relaxed. He looked decades younger. His robes, enchanted, adjusted to his new size.

Rias leaned toward me. “What just happened?”

“He looks… way younger,” I whispered back.

The Duke chuckled. “The spell allows us to appear younger—or older—depending on how we visualize ourselves. It doesn’t extend life. You still age normally. But it’s useful for fitting in or hiding your true self.”

He snapped his fingers, and in a moment, his body returned to its older form. “I want to teach this spell to both of you. It will help you blend in. Otherwise… well, people tend to stare when a sixteen-year-old towers over trained soldiers.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, thinking back to the gate guards. “Fair point.”

He stepped closer, his voice calm. “Let’s begin. First, close your eyes. Feel the mana inside you. It should be faint but steady—like a second heartbeat.”

I closed my eyes.

“Good,” he continued. “Now, move that energy to your chest. Then to your shoulders. Now to your hands.”

It was slow, but I could feel the warmth traveling through me.

“Now picture yourself smaller. Younger. Same you—just… condensed. Channel that image with the mana.”

He spoke the chant again. “Illusion of Mortality.”

I echoed the words and focused. My body tingled. I opened my eyes to see my arms—shorter, slimmer. The chair felt bigger beneath me.

“I did it?” I asked.

“You did,” the Duke said proudly.

Rias’s voice came next. “Arthur? Did it work for me?”

I turned to her and smiled. “You look… like your twelve-year-old self.”

“Ugh,” she groaned. “I was hoping for fifteen.”

The Duke laughed. “You’ll get better with practice. It’s a family spell, after all. You were born to wield it.”

The Duke clapped his hands once, a note of finality in his tone. “Now then. Henry—take them to Tom’s Magical Wears. They’ll need proper clothes that can adjust with the spell.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Henry replied with a bow, already stepping forward.

The Duke paused, his gaze settling on both of us. His expression softened.

“One last thing,” he said, his voice lower and more personal. “Please be careful. This city is a dangerous place… and not everyone in it has good intentions.”

Henry straightened beside us, placing a hand behind his back with confidence. “Don’t you worry, sir. I’ll make sure they return safely.”

Durak gave a faint nod, then turned back toward his desk. “Good. Then go. And Arthur… Rias… welcome home.”