After committing a mistake he refused to assume, Ren was somehow still working as Zayden’s personal attendant. He could not understand this. At least, not better than the conflicting rumors after he began working under him.
After having his breakfast, Zayden walked into his bedroom, followed closely by Ren.
That was his job–follow his ’master’, everywhere he went.
Once inside, Zayden unbuttoned his shirt.
Ren didn’t move and quietly stood at the corner of the room.
"Take out my clothes," he ordered.
Ren walked towards the closet. He opened the door, and it was a walk-in dressing room.
He looked around, wondering which set of clothes the general would wear at work.
Then, his gaze fell on a section where suits embroidered with gold hung, and the crest of the royal family of Revhara on the left side of it.
"Must be this," he mumbled, taking out a suit randomly.
Once outside, Zayden only wore his pants. But to his surprise, Ren didn’t show any surprise. He behaved normally and placed the clothes on the bed, neatly.
"Here are your clothes, sir," he announced, stepping away beside the door once again.
Zayden’s lips twitched. Why wasn’t he reacting as he should?
He stepped closer towards Ren, waving his hand before him. Ren did not flinch, but looked at him.
"Is something wrong?"
"No," Zayden replied, turning his heels. "Do your duty," he added, lifting his arms.
For a moment, Ren stood still, perplexed. Then he hurriedly picked up the white shirt, slipping Zayden’s right arm, then his left, and began buttoning it. As he slipped the shirt, the red strings began to cover it, one part after another. He hadn’t realized Zayden wore nothing at the top because the strings didn’t even let him see his face yet.
Such a large amount of demonic energy...
Ren couldn’t understand. Was this man truly not a demon? If so, how was he still breathing, because merely ten are enough to kill any beings, other than demons, because evil ran in their blood. This was a piece of a puzzle that simply didn’t fit anywhere in Ren’s knowledge.
"Done," he spoke softly, almost proud of his first successful task.
"Bring my sword," Zayden commanded.
Ren looked around, trying to find a sword–
His gaze fell on the egg–glimmering with bright green light. As if possessed, he headed to the right, instead of going to the left where the sword hung.
Zayden furrowed his eyebrows, following his attendant’s suspicious movement.
When he stood before the egg, Ren reached to touch it, caress it.
But a hand wrapped his wrist firmly, aggressively stopping him.
Ren blinked, confused.
"What. Do. You. Think. You. Are. Doing?" Zayden demanded, his voice sharp, glaring at Ren.
"I-It was glowing... So..."
"So you believed you could touch it?"
"No," Ren looked at the egg. "I did not..."
"Forget it," Zayden sighed. "Don’t come near this. Never again. Get out for now."
Ren nodded, bowing softly before leaving.
With a soft clack, the door closed behind the servant.
Zayden slicked his hair at the back, shaking his head.
"What should I do with you?" He sighed, gently picking up the egg.
He stared at it, and indeed, it emitted a low green light.
"Well, he was not lying..." he mumbled.
Ren walked behind while Zayden rode his horse toward the training grounds.
He had overheard the servants murmuring about it when he passed by the general’s room the day before—something about a new batch of soldiers and how "His Lordship’s temper’s worse than usual."
The fresh morning air was laced with the scent of damp soil from the rain.
The clang of swords echoed faintly in the woods, growing louder as they approached the open field.
It was a large area carved out at the edge of the fortress, far enough from the general’s quarters to muffle the screams of hard training.
Zayden had arranged for a tall and wide building to be built beside it, reserving it solely for his knights.
No one else was permitted to step inside. Even the emperor’s messengers waited outside when matters pressed.
The recruits, eyes twinkling, barely fitting into their armor, were already lined up in formation.
Training had started even before sunrise. Zayden’s men were known for that—punctuality and hard work.
Ren kept his gaze lowered as they passed rows of soldiers. Some eyes flicked toward him, curious or cautious, but none dared stare too long. He wasn’t one of them, just a servant, the shadow of his new master.
"Three failed already," Zayden said suddenly, his voice cold, unexpectedly distant. "Two collapsed from exhaustion. One broke a leg. Useless."
Ren didn’t speak. He simply followed.
"They’ll be sent back." Zayden’s firm expression showed no emotion. "I only keep what I can sharpen. Not what’s too broken to be fixed."
They reached the edge of the field, where commanders waited stiffly, saluting.
The knights moved like a clock, perfect synchrony, blades clunking against each other under the rising sun.
They were the kind of soldiers the emperor trusted more than his own palace guards. Trained under General Zayden himself. Built by cold morning training and meetings.
Ren stayed a step behind as Zayden dismounted and handed the reins to a stablehand.
"Keep your eyes open today," Zayden murmured, just loud enough for Ren to hear. "I want you to see why we are demons
Ren’s fingers curled slightly. He nodded once.
Zayden didn’t say anything else. He walked through the row of soldiers, who now bowed before him.
"How is the training?" He asked, glancing at Helain, the one who oversaw the training camp during his absence.
She extended a file, a smile on her face.
"Ten of them passed the training."
Zayden raised an eyebrow.
"Is it something to be proud of?"
"Of course! It means our training is hard enough for only selected, worthy people to pass!" She exclaimed.
"Right," Aarson added, as if his mouth twitched to speak a word.
"Can’t you remain silent?" Liam rolled his eyes.
"Look who’s talking!"
From a close distance, Ren observed them.
"Please... L-Let me go," a cry echoed in the back of his mind.
He stared at them, eyes full. Almost lifeless. He did not blink for a long time. Not until he heard a knight’s loud scream.
Ren turned toward the noise—
A white horse, wildly charged straight at the crowd of knights on the field. The soldiers, panicked, scattered away. A young knight froze, his eyes wide. His muscles wouldn’t let him move his limbs.
Zayden shouted something, but neither the soldier nor Ren heard it.
And on the horse, the rider—
The silhouette of a man.
Purple hair blown by the cold breeze, almost like fire under the rising sun rays.
Ren’s breath caught in his throat.
"You..." he whispered, his voice barely audible.