That was when I saw it—no mana, no aura at first glance.

  But there was something only a hero could have.

  Lukas walked through the castle entrance toward the throne room.

  — Look, the Tenth has really returned. So it was true.

  — He got even stronger?

  — How did he train for a whole year?

  — Is he really that strong?

  — Wow… I never noticed before, but he actually looks more handsome now. Even though he's short—look at those muscles. How did he train like that?

  — Soon he'll be leaving for the academy… Delos, right?

  Lukas stopped before the throne room doors, where the guards stood watch.

  — Young Master, how have you been?

  Look at that now… this low-ranking soldier doesn't mock me anymore. In my past life you looked at me with contempt.

  — Chocolatinho… I'm surprised you didn't hold a grudge, you know — Morgana said.

  — A grudge? Why would I, witch? That kind of thing doesn't belong in the heart of a legionary.

  — Says the little shield of virtue.

  — Shut up, witch.

  The soldiers stepped aside.

  The doors opened. Lukas entered.

  Doomm.

  The soldiers felt a cold presence.

  — What was that?

  Then a warm sensation followed.

  The soldiers broke into cold sweat.

  — Nothing, sir… welcome back. It's good to have you with us again.

  — Impressive how you command respect. That is the presence of a true legionary — commented Caesar.

  — Little soldier getting all excited over weaklings like those — Morgana mocked.

  — Quiet, witch.

  The doors closed.

  — I have been waiting for you, my son. It has been a year.

  Inside the throne room…

  There he was.

  The Patriarch of the South.

  Kyros.

  The Throne of the Sun, blessed by the four seasons, a gift from the elves, carefully crafted by the demi-humans and enchanted by the fairies.

  — Look over there, Chocolatinho… the Throne of the Sun.

  — A gift from the other races to the Patriarch of the South.

  — They say even dwarves worked on building that throne.

  — Rumors, Morgana — Lukas replied.

  — Rumors?

  — Yes. I don't know how you heard that, but there are no dwarf blacksmiths in the south. Those living in the city may be many things… but none are smiths.

  — Ah, Chocolatinho… I've heard about the war against humans. The dwarves were wiped out, as far as anyone knows, more than 150 years ago. Their forging techniques were considered a threat. Since they refused to submit to humans, they were annihilated or enslaved. Many blacksmiths had their hands torn off so they would never forge again.

  — Since they refused to teach humans their craft, humans took it away from them. If they couldn't have it, no one else would.

  — How do you know these things, witch, when we're stuck inside the legionary's head?

  — I have my ways. If you haven't figured it out yet, I'm certainly not going to tell you, little soldier.

  — Cunning fox… shameless. Just say it already.

  But Morgana ignored him completely.

  Inside the throne room stood Silvio, to the right of the throne.

  The Patriarchs of the Seasons.

  A little ahead, seated around a round table:

  Helena Summer — Matriarch of Summer

  Kotan Aspen — Patriarch of Winter

  Flora Anapelum — Matriarch of Spring

  Aurelius Rowan — Patriarch of Autumn

  Lukas raised his eyes.

  Kyros sat upon the throne with the aura of the Sovereign of the South, as always.

  Hair black as coal.

  Dark brown eyes.

  A short black beard covering his face.

  Simple clothing for a patriarch.

  But his aura was definitely stronger than it had been a year ago.

  In the corner of the room stood a chronicler with a small emergency notebook, writing quickly without making a sound, without drawing the patriarchs' attention.

  Whenever someone looked his way, he pretended to stand at attention.

  But he was proud to see him again.

  — Oui, Young Master… you look magnificent in the presence of a hero, without a doubt.

  And so the Legendary Failure raised his eyes before some of the most powerful presences of the empire.

  — I see your training was rigorous.

  — I see you were not bluffing, my son.

  Kyros observed Lukas for several seconds.

  His eyes analyzed every detail.

  — I see your training was rigorous.

  He rested his arm on the throne.

  — I also see that you were not bluffing, my son.

  Silence filled the room for a few seconds.

  Then a female voice spoke.

  Helena Summer slightly tilted her head.

  — Impressive.

  — Only one year… and your presence has completely changed.

  — The frail boy we saw at the festival no longer exists.

  Kotan Aspen let out a nasal laugh.

  — Hmph.

  — Still looks like a brat to me.

  He crossed his arms.

  — But I must admit… the scent of battle on him is real.

  Flora Anapelum watched Lukas curiously.

  — There is something different.

  — His mana is… strange.

  — Almost nonexistent.

  — Yet I still feel something.

  Aurelius Rowan spoke calmly.

  — It is not mana.

  — Nor aura.

  He studied Lukas carefully.

  — The boy carries something else.

  Silvio, beside the throne, finally spoke.

  — His posture has completely changed.

  — He looks like a veteran of war.

  — Not a student heading to Delos.

  Morgana laughed inside Lukas's mind.

  — Chocolatinho… look at that.

  — You've become a spectacle.

  Caesar replied proudly.

  — Naturally.

  — A true legionary always draws attention.

  Kyros raised his hand.

  Instant silence.

  — Lukas.

  — Approach.

  Lukas walked to the center of the room.

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  The sound of his boots echoed through the hall.

  Kyros observed him with a firm gaze.

  — You trained for an entire year.

  — Away from the capital.

  — Away from the protection of House Fernandes.

  He slightly tilted his head.

  — Tell me.

  — What did you find during that time?

  Lukas answered calmly.

  — Myself.

  Kotan burst into laughter.

  — HAH!

  — Arrogant answer.

  Flora frowned slightly.

  — No.

  — It is not arrogance.

  — He is serious.

  Helena rested her chin on her hand.

  — Interesting.

  — So the boy found his own strength.

  Silvio looked at Lukas.

  — And yet you still intend to go to Delos.

  — Even though you are already capable of facing experienced warriors.

  Lukas replied:

  — Delos is only one step.

  Aurelius Rowan smiled faintly.

  — Ambitious.

  Morgana whispered in his mind.

  — Chocolatinho… they're measuring you.

  Caesar replied:

  — Naturally.

  — Patriarchs always test warriors.

  Kyros spoke again.

  — Lukas.

  He slowly rose from the throne.

  The aura of the Sovereign of the South filled the hall.

  — Delos is not an ordinary place.

  — There the greatest talents of the empire gather.

  He stepped down two steps from the throne.

  — You will find nobles.

  — Prodigy mages.

  — Warriors trained since childhood.

  He stopped in front of Lukas.

  — Tell me.

  — Do you believe you are ready for this?

  Silence.

  Lukas answered without hesitation.

  — I'll adapt the hard way. Facing talent.

  — That is why I am going to Bragan?a, the capital of the empire, to enter the Imperial Academy of Delos.

  — And meet Leli and all the other prodigies.

  — Even if I am not one.

  Several people in the room raised their eyebrows.

  Kotan burst into laughter.

  — HAH!

  — At least he's honest!

  Lukas continued.

  — Let the challenges come.

  — I will not retreat.

  Silence.

  Flora smiled.

  — Now I understand.

  Aurelius spoke calmly.

  — Determination.

  Kyros watched Lukas for a few seconds.

  Then a small smile appeared on his face.

  — Very well.

  — If that is the case.

  Kyros threw a powerful punch toward the boy.

  BOOOOM

  The Moon Shield was firmly in Lukas's right hand even as he was pushed backward.

  — The boy reacted to that punch at that speed?! — Kotan narrowed his eyes.

  Silvio watched attentively.

  — Interesting.

  — He reacted within seconds.

  — And he continues defending against Kyros's strikes.

  — What kind of training have you been doing, boy?

  — And that cangaceiro keychain on your waist…

  — Can you already summon the Lumpas you told me about?

  Helena, Flora, and Aurelius observed.

  Kyros pressed forward.

  The boy defended.

  Dodged.

  Kyros used the Aura of Eclipse, coating his fist in aura.

  When he attacked with his fist, Lukas raised the shield.

  But Kyros smiled.

  — Do not be naive, my son.

  Yet Lukas had already realized the attack was coming from the legs, not the fists.

  Kyros spun, knocking the shield aside with a kick and striking with his right fist.

  Lukas drew a gladius, spinning in the opposite direction, catching Kyros's punch and redirecting the impact toward the wall.

  BOOOOOOOOM

  The impact shook the room.

  Aurelius cast a containment spell that absorbed the Eclipse aura shockwave so the hall would not be destroyed.

  Kotan shouted:

  — WHAT?!

  — That makes no sense!

  — Kyros, you're testing him wrong! Let me!

  — I'll test him!

  — I'll slice this arrogant brat apart!

  — He reminds me of you when you were young!

  — I'll crush that arrogance!

  Helena grabbed Kotan.

  — What is it?

  — Feeling threatened by a boy, Kotan?

  — Or are you just proud and don't know how to show it?

  — Shut up, Helena!

  Kotan gritted his teeth.

  Lukas wiped sweat from his brow.

  That was close…

  — Bravo, bravo! Spectacular, young legionary! You defended with elegance! — Caesar said inside Lukas's mind.

  Morgana had purple hearts in her eyes.

  — Chocolatinho of my life… you were incredible.

  — I must agree with the little soldier.

  Kyros smiled — a smile that made everyone look at him.

  — Impressive, my son.

  — It feels as if I fought my younger self.

  — You moved ahead as if you knew my movements.

  — Nothing, father… I just got lucky.

  — Do not be modest.

  — That was battlefield reading, son.

  — You read your old father like cards.

  — If you had been fighting seriously, I would be under the care of the priests, not standing here.

  Silvio observed.

  — Interesting.

  — He truly became strong.

  — Let's see how far you will go, Lukas.

  Lukas felt a tiger-like gaze upon him.

  — Chocolatinho… don't forget you promised to summon the Lumpas.

  — I knew it, young legionary — said Caesar. — He didn't forget that story you told a year ago.

  Kyros returned to the throne.

  — Then go, my son.

  — To Delos.

  — And show the empire…

  — that the Tenth Son of House Fernandes is not merely a name.

  In the corner of the hall…

  Finarp wrote frantically.

  He murmured while scribbling:

  — Magnifique…

  — The young hero before the patriarchs…

  — Yes… this will make an excellent chapter.

  Castle of the Sun — Wing Reserved for the Tenth House — Lukas's Room

  The night continued in silence until… a soft knock sounded on the wooden door.

  One.

  Two.

  Three times.

  Lukas did not move immediately. His eyes were closed, but he was alert.

  — Not an enemy — murmured Caesar.

  — But also not a servant — Morgana added, with a curious tone.

  He stood up. His body was still warm from training, wearing only his training pants and the bandages across his chest.

  He opened the door.

  And there she was.

  Catarina.

  She wore a simple gray wool cloak over her training clothes.

  Her hair was tied in loose braids.

  Her face… slightly flushed from the cold.

  Or perhaps for another reason.

  She stood there for a few seconds at the doorway.

  Watching Lukas.

  Her eyes slowly moved down his shoulders… his arms… his chest marked by the bandages.

  She let out a small sigh.

  — So it's true.

  Lukas raised an eyebrow.

  — What?

  She crossed her arms.

  — You've changed.

  Silence.

  She tilted her head slightly.

  — The letters didn't mention this.

  — One year away…

  — And you return with the body of a war veteran.

  She made a small gesture with her hand.

  — I expected someone stronger.

  — Not someone… forged.

  Lukas shrugged.

  — Training.

  Catarina narrowed her eyes.

  — "Training."

  She walked into the room before he could say anything.

  —

  Catarina sat in the armchair near the window.

  She crossed her legs.

  Observed the room.

  Then looked back at him.

  — All your letters arrived.

  — The shield formation you sent.

  — The double wall.

  — The legionaries' rotation of rest.

  — And that madness you called short-line impact.

  She rested her chin on her hand.

  — Hannibal almost lost his mind trying to teach that.

  Lukas smiled slightly.

  — But he managed.

  — He did.

  She nodded.

  — The legionaries followed everything.

  — And it worked.

  She looked at him again.

  — Including the youngest boy.

  — Tiberius.

  Her tone became more serious.

  — But he hasn't been eating properly.

  — He says he wants to become strong like you.

  — But he also says he's afraid of failing.

  — Afraid of disappointing you.

  Lukas answered calmly.

  — Put him under Hannibal and Amelia's care.

  Catarina raised an eyebrow.

  — Are you sure?

  — Hannibal breaks recruits.

  — Amelia tests their limits.

  — They know how to deal with fear.

  She remained silent for a few seconds.

  Then nodded.

  — Understood.

  She looked again at Lukas's body.

  — You've become heavier.

  — Not in fat.

  — In presence.

  She uncrossed her legs.

  — When you left…

  — You were still the tenth son of House Fernandes.

  — A legendary failure.

  She smiled faintly.

  — Now…

  — You look like a commander.

  Lukas said nothing.

  Catarina stood up.

  She leaned against the door frame.

  — You have a strange way of leading.

  — You don't give orders.

  She made a gesture with her hand.

  — You change people.

  — You make them want to improve.

  She gave a small smile.

  — Keep it up, Legendary Failure.

  She turned her head.

  — Although you…

  — Do you prefer I call you Chocolatinho?

  — Or Hero of the South?

  Lukas sighed.

  — Forget it, Catarina…

  She opened the door.

  But before leaving she said:

  — You just came back.

  — And you're already leaving again.

  — Delos.

  Lukas answered:

  — We'll meet in Delos.

  She looked over her shoulder.

  — I hope you're ready.

  — Because there…

  — no one will go easy on you.

  She left.

  Leaving only the shadow of a smile behind.

  Catarina closed the door.

  Her footsteps disappeared down the corridor.

  The room stayed silent for a few seconds.

  Then Morgana spoke inside Lukas's mind.

  — Chocolatinho…

  — Did you notice?

  Caesar answered immediately.

  — Notice what, witch?

  Morgana laughed.

  — That human was looking at you like she was evaluating a war horse.

  — Shoulders… arms… chest…

  — Hmmm.

  Caesar snorted.

  — She was evaluating the physical condition of a commander.

  — Something completely normal.

  — Nothing more.

  Morgana burst out laughing.

  — Nothing more?

  — LITTLE SOLDIER…

  — she almost drooled.

  — SHUT UP, WITCH!

  Lukas rubbed his face.

  — Can't you two stay quiet for five minutes?

  Morgana ignored him completely.

  — I like her.

  — She has the eyes of a predator.

  — If this continues, Chocolatinho…

  — you might gain another admirer.

  Caesar replied instantly.

  — NEVER!

  — The young legionary must maintain discipline!

  — No distractions!

  Morgana sighed theatrically.

  — Ah, little soldier…

  — you say that as if Chocolatinho were a monk.

  — He's sixteen years old.

  — And just turned into a small muscular monster.

  Caesar nearly exploded.

  — WITCH!

  — The young legionary is an example of honor!

  — A Roman soldier does not give in to carnal impulses!

  Morgana laughed even louder.

  — Hahahaha!

  — Chocolatinho…

  — did you hear that?

  — The little shield of virtue is afraid you'll become another Julius Caesar.

  Caesar fell silent for a second.

  Then replied angrily.

  — I DID NOT FALL BECAUSE OF THAT!

  Morgana answered immediately.

  — Of course not…

  — it was only Cleopatra, right?

  Silence.

  Lukas sighed.

  — I truly have the two most problematic voices in the world inside my head.

  Morgana answered happily.

  — But admit it…

  — your life would be very boring without us.

  Caesar grumbled.

  — At least the young legionary still has some sanity.

  Morgana laughed.

  — For now.

  — For now.

  Lukas lay down again.

  The candle still burned faintly on the table.

  The room was warm and silent.

  But exhaustion finally won.

  And then…

  He dreamed.

  —

  The Autumn Forest.

  Golden leaves scattered across the ground.

  A thin mist slithered between ancient trees.

  Soft footsteps on damp soil.

  Lukas walked unarmed.

  He wore armor with a cloak and a black cape.

  Ahead of him…

  two figures walked with their backs turned.

  The voices came first.

  — We must destroy the seal, since Anatoly failed…

  — Arrogant idiot… defeated by a boy.

  Lukas clenched his fists.

  He tried to reach them.

  But the more he advanced…

  the further they moved away.

  Then the two figures stopped.

  And slowly turned their faces.

  Their eyes were terrifying.

  Deep.

  Ancient.

  — You are the boy of the Fernandes.

  — The one who killed Anatoly.

  — The one who destroyed our plan.

  Beside them…

  a third figure walked.

  Tall.

  Imposing.

  But without a face.

  Only a shadow.

  Wearing the colors of the North.

  Lukas stopped.

  His heart raced.

  Rage took over.

  Even without seeing clearly…

  he knew.

  He knew exactly who they were.

  Disasters.

  And the worst part…

  he had no idea what their next move would be.

  Lukas growled.

  — I will kill every single one of you.

  One of the figures tilted its head slightly.

  — You cannot reach me, Lukas…

  — Not yet.

  Lukas took a step forward.

  — What?

  The voice answered calmly.

  — Climb the Tower.

  — The Lost Link.

  The faceless shadow stepped deeper into the mist.

  — Heir of the Silent Inheritance.

  The forest fell silent.

  And then…

  everything disappeared.

  Lukas woke up suddenly.

  His entire body was sweating.

  His eyes were wide open.

  For a few seconds he simply sat on the bed, breathing heavily.

  The room was still dark, but the first morning light was already entering through the window.

  His heart was still beating fast.

  — Calm down… — said Caesar inside his mind.

  — It was only a dream.

  Morgana answered in a quieter, thoughtful tone.

  — Or a warning.

  Lukas rubbed his face.

  He slowly stood up.

  Walked to the small basin in the room and splashed cold water on his face.

  He took a deep breath.

  Then raised his eyes.

  The old metal mirror reflected his image.

  Messy black hair.

  Dark eyes.

  A body marked by scars and training.

  Lukas stared at himself for a few seconds.

  Then a smile appeared.

  But it was not the calm smile he showed to the people he liked.

  It was different.

  A cold smile.

  A terrifying one.

  He spoke quietly, almost like a promise.

  — Come.

  Silence.

  Sunlight began to enter through the window.

  — I am here.

  He clenched his fist.

  — I am no longer useless.

  A new day had begun.

  And Lukas Fernandes was ready to face it.

  End of Chapter 2

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