Chapter 22

  The Magpie

  Luminus was divided into five administrative regions—North, East, West, South, and the Capital.

  In the northernmost part of the country lay the land bordering Artheris, the Realm of Knowledge, just three hours’ journey away. That region was known as Newcastle.

  And it was there, in Newcastle, that the great and ancient Saint Pauli family ruled—a military lineage of unparalleled prestige in the North. The family had long served the King of Luminus under the battalion code name The Magpies. The command of this battalion was an honor passed down through generations of Luminus nobility—a legacy regarded as one of the highest privileges one could inherit.

  While the other regions of Luminus rotated their commanding officers with each generation—like Casca, who once led the western forces of Hope of Brighton under the code name The Seagulls before she vanished into Diablo—the North remained under the unbroken control of Saint Pauli.

  The reason was simple: every heir of the Saint Pauli line possessed the qualities of a true knight. In other Saint families, a father’s greatness might not pass to his son; some built their name only for their heirs to ruin it. But Saint Pauli was different. Each successor seemed as if crafted from the same mold, born from a divine design of strength and discipline.

  They were knights by birth—blessed by God Himself. Yet, this was no miracle of chance. It was by design—generation after generation of deliberate selection, a process that defied moral principle but not divine scripture. And so, the Saint Pauli family ascended to glory, their sigil forever marked by the symbol of a rose.

  When Rafinya was a child, she grew up within this strict military system her father, Shearer Saint Pauli, had meticulously built—for her and her two older brothers. Their upbringing was bound by discipline, but it was a fair kind of discipline.

  Shearer treated his children equally. His sons were raised as soldiers—and when Rafinya chose that path for herself, he allowed it. She embraced it fully, and that discipline molded her into who she became.

  Over time, however, Shearer’s severity softened. He had already sown the seeds of the Saint Pauli creed within his children, as his father had done before him—teaching them the pride of their heritage, the honor of their name, and the way of a military family.

  In such a household, the head of the family was the general—the one whose orders must be obeyed.

  That was why Rafinya’s life stood in sharp contrast to Nora’s.

  While the princess of Snowhaven sought freedom from her mother’s expectations, the rose-born noblewoman devoted herself completely to her family’s will, obeying her father with absolute conviction.

  Rafinya wanted to be Casca.

  Rafinya wanted to be strong.

  She wanted to be her own person—her ambition entirely self-driven, without any sense of pressure. Shearer barely needed to do anything; Rafinya had already decided her path on her own.

  That was why people said Shearer was the luckiest father alive—to have a daughter so gifted, so resolute, and so perfectly aligned with his ideals.

  "Since she was six years old, Rafinya chose a training sword over a doll. That was when I knew just how lucky I was," said Shearer.

  "You must be very proud of her," Dan replied.

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  "Of all three of them. My two sons as well. They are the product of our sacrifice."

  "Mr.Shearer, the system you used to raise them—it’s impressive. What kind of method is it, exactly?" asked Dan.

  "Order brings peace. Without order, there’s only chaos. That is our way of life."

  "Strictness?"

  "If she chose to live as an ordinary woman, she could have had an easier life."

  The old man leaned back in his chair, gazing out the window.

  "That child has always had a competitive spirit. She was born that way—crafted by God to be so."

  "I can see that," Dan said.

  "Rafinya always strives to prove herself to me—to earn praise, to be the best. But then you appeared."

  Shearer turned his gaze back to Dan.

  "You took that away from her."

  And that gave rise to Rafinya’s discontent—her envy, born of her own pride.

  "If it were Casca, she could have understood. But you? A boy of her age, appearing out of nowhere?"

  "My daughter isn’t one to accept things easily, especially after being number one her entire life. She looked at you and wondered, ‘Who is this boy? Why have I never heard of him?’"

  "When you stand beside Rafinya, every eye turns toward you. No matter how quietly you live, she will always end up in your shadow. I don’t blame you, Dan."

  "Her shadow? That’s not true," Dan replied.

  Shearer shook his head.

  "I’m not criticizing her. I’m telling you what she feels."

  Outside the door, Rafinya stood, fists clenched, shame and jealousy burning on her face. Her father had read her thoughts like an open book.

  Yes—Rafinya had always used her father as an excuse. She claimed it was his will, his authority, his control that bound her… but the truth was the opposite.

  His power no longer held sway over her—not for her. She only used his name to justify her own pride.

  What she truly wanted was to surpass Dan. She wanted to crush him—to prove herself better. Rafinya simply couldn’t stand to lose.

  "I saw the reports from the Academy," said Shearer. "Rafinya often picked fights with you. It wasn’t about pride or honor. She admires your skill. That was her way of trying to get closer to you."

  "Is that so? Oh…" Dan murmured.

  He wasn’t sure what was true and what wasn’t—but listening couldn’t hurt.

  "So, could you at least consider it?"

  It was only natural that Dan felt weary. A noble’s request carried heavy weight. Yet in that moment, time seemed to stop. A thought flashed in the prince’s mind.

  If I were to get engaged to Rafinya… wouldn’t that mean gaining access to Luminus from the inside?

  He would learn their plans, their political structure, their military. If he accepted, Diablo would gain immense strategic advantage—far greater than through any spy.

  But if he refused—and he knew he must, for Casca would kill him, and he loved her too deeply to betray her—the decision was already made.

  "Dan… every great man is remembered by what he builds, not the freedom he keeps. If you become part of us, I believe your life will be complete in every way. Before you, there may be Casca, who helps you reach great power. But behind you, Pauli will stand, supporting every step you take. The opportunity is here. We only ask for what we deserve," said Shearer Saint Pauli.

  His persuasion was masterful.

  It would have worked—if Dan were a young man chasing comfort, dreaming of glory, content with Casca in front and the Pauli family behind, living a life of eternal luxury.

  But Shearer was wrong about one thing.

  "A perfect life, you say?" Dan asked.

  "That’s right," Shearer replied, gesturing. "A perfect life. Millions would give up their families just to sit where you’re sitting now."

  "Yes, I suppose it would be perfect… in the eyes of a twenty-year-old."

  Shearer froze. "What did you say?"

  "My definition of a perfect life isn’t that, Mr.Shearer."

  Dan set down his teacup. The shift in his aura was palpable. Shearer no longer felt like he was speaking to a sixteen-year-old boy, but to someone ancient—someone whose presence transcended generations. Someone who's worth to be a historical figure.

  "I came to understand something a few years ago, Mr.Shearer. I recently discovered what it means to live. My purpose is to pursue endlessly. I cannot exist without chasing something. I refuse because I know the Saint Pauli family cannot give me what I seek."

  He had wealth enough. Now he sought something beyond.

  "I’m chasing what lies above it all. I’m chasing the beginning of everything."

  The old knight froze. In all his seventy years, he had never heard a sixteen-year-old speak like that.

  "The beginning of everything?"

  "I don’t imagine, Mr.Shearer. I see, I touch, I smell, I record. That’s how I understand. And no one on this continent can give me that."

  Dan rose from his seat.

  "I thank you for the tea and your offer, but I must decline. What I seek is not here, nor in any family of Luminus."

  He bowed respectfully.

  "May the light be with you, Mr.Shearer."

  The patriarch stood silent as the young man walked out, passing Rafinya, who stood waiting at the door.

  "Dan! What nonsense are you talking about!? The beginning of everything!? What kind of delusion is that!?"

  The tall girl froze as the boy stopped and looked back at her.

  "I mean every word, Rafinya."

  "And I don’t know if I’ll ever find it in my lifetime—but I know I will never stop chasing it. That’s what life means to me."

  "I don’t understand! Dan! Come back here right now!"

  Rafinya ran after him.

  Inside, Shearer watched in silence, chin resting on his hand.

  He no longer saw a sixteen-year-old boy. He saw something else—someone who had already made peace with the world, someone older, far beyond his daughter’s reach.

  Something—or someone—far greater than he had imagined.