On a radiant morning, Skyhold’s principal reclined in his plush chair, projecting an air of calm that masked his inner turmoil. No word had reached him from Daniel since the previous night, a silence that gnawed at his nerves like a persistent itch.
He suspected Daniel had failed—likely dead—given the absence of any report. "How could he defeat Daniel? Or was my suspicion correct? No demigod parents would leave their child unprotected," Principal Endrick mused, his thoughts spiraling as he strategized new ways to outmaneuver Aaron, the cunning thorn in his side who’d proven more formidable than expected.
A sharp knock on his office door jolted him from his scheming reverie.
"Come in," Endrick called, his voice steady but tinged with curiosity about who stood on the other side.
Was it Daniel? Or someone else? "Please, not her," he sighed under his breath, bracing for another exhausting clash he wasn’t in the mood to entertain.
"Principal Endrick. It’s been a while," a man in a sleek black suit with impeccably polished shoes said, striding in with a pleasant smile that failed to warm his calculating eyes.
"Jay. To what do I owe a visit from the Hunter’s Association agent?" Endrick asked, forcing a smile that felt like a mask, his mind roiling with annoyance at the unwelcome intrusion.
"No need for the fake smile, Endrick. I know you can’t stand me. Not that I care," Jay said, settling into the chair across from the principal with the ease of someone who owned the room.
"Courtesy demands you wait for permission to sit, but it’s irrelevant. I’d have let you anyway," Endrick muttered, his tone clipped, his patience fraying like a worn rope.
"Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? One of your instructors, Daniel, was found dead," Jay revealed, his face a study in composure as he scrutinized Endrick for any telltale flicker of guilt or surprise.
"Tsk. Still a master of the poker face, huh?" Jay said, clicking his tongue in frustration, unable to glean even a hint of reaction from Endrick’s stoic expression.
"How did he die? Murder? I expect the Hunter’s Association to investigate thoroughly and bring the culprit to justice," Endrick demanded, his voice dripping with feigned concern that rang hollow to anyone who knew him.
"Spare me the crocodile tears, Endrick. They’re nauseating. It’s not quite murder—at least, that’s our initial read. We’re digging deeper," Jay replied, his tone sharp as he leaned forward, probing for cracks in Endrick’s facade.
"Then how did he die?" Endrick pressed, his curiosity genuine now, though his face remained an unreadable mask.
"He cut his wrists, scrawled a message on a wall implicating you in a crime, then slit his throat. What mess did you stir up, Endrick, to cause such a gruesome scene? Picked a fight with someone too big for you?" Jay asked, his eyes narrowing like a hawk circling prey.
"You know me, Jay. Friends since childhood. I don’t pick fights, especially not with foes I can’t handle," Endrick said, shrugging with a casual air that belied the storm of calculations in his mind.
"Like hell I buy that. I’m here as a friend, Endrick. Your recent moves have been disappointing, far from the man I knew, but I still care about your sorry hide. Watch your back. If this isn’t a simple suicide, your enemy is far more dangerous than you realize," Jay warned, rising to his feet and departing, his words heavy with a mix of concern and exasperation.
"His parents left a safety mechanism, didn’t they?" Endrick muttered after Jay left, his mind racing. Though he hated admitting it, Jay’s warning carried weight. He resolved to lay low, pausing his schemes against Aaron to assess whether retaliation would follow, waiting for the perfect moment to strike with precision.
A week had passed since the Daniel incident, and Aaron’s luck with his system draws had been utterly dismal. Seven days straight, he’d pulled nothing—not even a trinket, just a mocking system message that nearly made him retch: *How unlucky, try again next time.*
The message had pushed Aaron to the brink of wanting to smash the system, if only it had a physical form. What was the point of his SSS-rank Lucky Halo if he kept drawing duds? If he knew the astronomical odds stacked against him, he might’ve valued his talent more for securing two rare rewards despite the system’s stinginess.
Aaron wasn’t idle, wallowing in failed draws. He’d immersed himself in dungeon raids, pushing his limits and climbing his ID rank from F- to F++, a modest but hard-won achievement. He’d also been discreetly investigating Blade after each raid, piecing together the truth about the companion he’d grown used to commanding.
Blade, the man who’d once tried to extort him, wasn’t the greedy soul Aaron had first assumed. He supported an orphanage, a sanctuary for children orphaned by dungeon outbreaks or other tragedies. The staggering funds needed to keep it running drove Blade to work relentlessly, even extorting clients to make ends meet.
The crystals Blade earned weren’t hoarded to boost his own strength, as most hunters would do. Instead, he sold them to fund the orphanage, a selfless act that revealed his core. Not a saint, but noble—a quality Aaron deemed essential for a potential vampire viscount.
"Hah! System draw," Aaron muttered, half-asleep in his basement, his voice heavy with resignation. The excitement he’d once thought unquenchable had dulled after a week of disappointments.
As usual, the system wheel spun, Aaron watching it absentmindedly, braced for another taunting message from the system.
[Congratulations! Your luck has shone through!]
[You have obtained the sovereign-rank item - Sanctuary!?
"Thought as much, another dud, huh?" Aaron mumbled, then jolted upright, slapping himself awake, his heart racing as he realized he’d heard correctly. It wasn’t a dud?
[Host is a Vampire Primogenitor with tireless stamina and razor-sharp senses. How could Host doubt his hearing?]
"Shut up! What do you expect after a week of duds?" Aaron growled, his pulse quickening as he tapped the item, a surge of exhilaration reigniting his faith in his Lucky Halo as he claimed the rare reward.