The Seven Honorable Houses of Elysium—the pride of the kingdom and the once-loyal vassals of the Lord.
They were the first families to lay the foundation of this nation, guiding it from its infancy to its golden age… and eventually, to its downfall.
But their so-called honor never meant they were free from conflict. Despite their prestigious status, power among them remained imbalanced, and envy festered within their ranks.
One of the houses that fell victim to these schemes was the House of Algrin. Ironically, they had been the first to pledge unwavering loyalty to the Lord—the most trusted vassals of the infamous Lord of Calamity.
Claude exhaled sharply, his gaze fixed on the dilapidated mansion before him. Children ran across the unkempt front yard, their laughter echoing in the cool air.
"What a shame," he muttered. "To think they truly fell just like that."
Beside him, William nodded. "Many believe the House of Algrin collapsed due to the foolishness of its head—giving away his wealth to aid the common folk when they were dying in masses from that ’mysterious disease.’"
Claude scoffed. "That disease was obviously man-made." His eyes darkened as he pieced it together.
"It was deliberately spread—to force Algrin to drain its fortune on developing a cure. A cure that still ended up killing nearly half the population."
William sighed. "And with both the noble houses and the commoners turning against him, the house crumbled under the pressure."
Claude said nothing for a moment, his fingers tightening around the reins.
"A tragic end." His gaze shifted to Damien. "But bringing him back to court… You really like testing me, don’t you?"
Damien’s lips curved into a smile—cold and knowing. "Your Majesty, you’ve already declared war on the corrupt nobles and pushed for fair policies. Half the court already wants your head. Why not make things even more interesting?"
Claude chuckled, his smirk widening as he nudged his horse forward.
"Right," he mused. "It’s not like I’m afraid of them."
And with that, he rode through the mansion gates, unbothered by the storm he was about to unleash.
As they neared the mansion’s entrance, Claude’s gaze settled on a middle-aged man standing by the door.
His hair had already turned white with age, yet his body remained strong and well-built—still carrying the presence of a seasoned warrior.
With a scar running across his left eye and another marking his cheek, he looked less like a noble and more like the mafia bosses Claude had seen on television.
The man’s expression shifted from confusion to recognition the moment his gaze met Damien’s.
A slow smile spread across his face as he offered a greeting.
"Young Lord Damien. It’s been a long time."
Claude, Damien, and William dismounted their horses as Damien stepped forward with a polite nod.
"Lord Ezra, it’s good to see you again."
Ezra let out a hearty laugh. "Don’t call me ’Lord’ anymore. I’m just a commoner now."
He smiled before turning his attention to the other two. "And these gentlemen?"
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William stepped forward and introduced himself with a respectful bow. "William Varnaz. I’m the new Counselor, replacing my father, Atlas Varnaz."
Ezra blinked in surprise. "Ah… I apologize for my lack of formality earlier. I’ve been away from the court for too long—I wasn’t aware of your appointment."
"There’s no need to apologize, Lord Ezra." William returned the nod. "My father spoke highly of you."
Ezra’s gaze then shifted to Claude. There was a flicker of familiarity in his eyes, yet he couldn’t quite place him.
Before he could ask, Claude spoke up nonchalantly. "Me? I’m just their servant. No need to concern yourself with me."
Claude just didn’t to make a fuss because of his status. He also wanted to see how ’Ezra’ truly was.
Both Damien and William visibly stiffened, their expressions betraying their shock.
William, in particular, looked like he had a dozen questions swirling in his mind, but Claude ignored him, his face unreadable.
Ezra merely chuckled at the odd response. "Oh well, let’s talk inside, shall we?" He gestured for them to follow as he led the way into his humble home.
William shot Claude a look full of silent questions, but the man remained indifferent, following Ezra without a word.
Inside the modest mansion, they settled into their seats—except for Claude, who remained standing, much to William’s discomfort.
Ezra, looking slightly apologetic, spoke first. "I’m sorry I can’t offer you any refreshments."
"There’s no need," William replied smoothly. "We’ll get straight to the point."
Since Claude had assumed the role of a mere "servant," he remained silent, observing as William and Damien led the discussion.
"This is a proposal from His Majesty, the King." William placed a document on the table and slid it toward Ezra.
"You’re already aware that the Lord has returned and is now taking full control of the court."
Ezra gave a small nod, taking the document and scanning through its contents. "I am. I also heard about the banquet."
He closed the document with a sigh. "But I’m sorry—I can’t return to the court."
William’s brow furrowed. "I understand your situation, but I don’t think the Lord will accept ’no’ as an answer," his gaze turn to Claude.
"The King may not be fully aware of the circumstances surrounding Algrin’s downfall, but my return would only stir chaos."
"The Honorable Houses won’t accept it, and frankly, I’m too old and tired for that fight."
A heavy silence followed.
Claude, never one for patience, finally stepped forward, his voice cutting through the room.
"And what about the common folk? Don’t you care about them?"
Ezra’s eyes widened slightly. His mouth opened as if to respond but then closed again.
After a brief pause, he answered, "Of course I do. I still help them in my own way."
"I’m sorry for being blunt, but that’s not enough." Claude’s tone was firm.
"Your charity makes them dependent on you—but it does nothing to fix the system that keeps them suffering in the first place."
He took a step closer, his piercing gaze locked onto Ezra. "The kingdom is rotting from the inside out, and you’re one of the few daemons who can help rebuild it."
His voice carried both conviction and challenge. "Don’t you want to see Elysium restored to its former glory?’
"If you truly want to help them, then take responsibility. Accept your role and fulfill your King’s request."
Ezra exhaled deeply, placing the document back onto the table. His expression was thoughtful, almost conflicted.
"You remind me of my younger self," he admitted with a wistful smile.
"I had the same ideals once, but my naivety cost me everything. Because of me, House Algrin fell."
He shook his head. "I don’t think someone like me—someone who already failed—is suited for such an important position."
Claude scoffed, his arms crossing over his chest. "Then you’re both a fool and a coward, Ezra."
Damien and William tensed at the harsh words, but Claude didn’t care.
"I don’t understand people like you—people who let failure define them," he continued.
"If you lost, then stand up and try again. If you want to give up, fine. But don’t use your past mistakes as an excuse to sit on the sidelines."
His gaze sharpened. "You’ve lost everything—not even your own dignity remains. And you’re right. You aren’t fit for this position… yet."
The words hit hard, but Ezra didn’t react with anger. Instead, he chuckled.
"I knew it. You’re no servant." His laughter was deep, filled with something between amusement and nostalgia.
"You remind me of someone my father used to tell me about—stories passed down from his grandfather. A long time ago, there was a man just like you."
His blue eyes met Claude’s, no longer hesitant but curious. "Your Majesty… tell me, how do I reclaim my dignity?"
Claude smirked. "There are two ways: revenge or proving that you’re better. The second suits you more."
Ezra let out another chuckle, shaking his head. "Of course, you’d say that."
Taking a deep breath, he straightened his posture. "I’ll give you my answer later. But for now… as you said, I need to reclaim my dignity first."