Pausing for breath, Pavel scanned their surroundings. A faint breeze drifted through the tunnel, carrying with it a stench of decay—but to him, it was a welcome sign. It meant they were headed in the right direction.
Eventually, the exit connected to the estate's hunting grounds came into view.
Pavel climbed out first, wiping the grime from his hands, then helped his mother and sisters out of the tunnel.
Now all that was left was to wait for Sancho to arrive.
They quickly changed into fresh clothes from their spatial rings and washed off the filth with the warm water they'd prepared in advance. Even in crisis, they maintained some dignity.
"I'm cold… and hungry, brother…" one of the girls whimpered.
Pavel strained to hear any sign of movement through the darkness of the forest, but the only sounds were the soft complaints of his sisters.
They had never gone hungry or suffered before. Neither had their mother, whose usually elegant face now looked drawn with exhaustion. Her trembling hands clutched her daughters tightly.
Pavel exhaled a weary sigh. How long must we wait?
As the cry of night birds echoed overhead, something finally stirred beneath the pale moonlight—a distant silhouette.
From the direction of the fallen Rochester Castle, a winged beast began to approach, growing larger and clearer with each beat of its wings.
Only one person would come here alone at a time .
Sancho. He made it. That must mean things went well… but… what is that beast?
The creature resembled a black panther with majestic wings, moving with an elegant grace that made Pavel's breath catch.
Narrowing his eyes, he quickly ushered his family into the bushes.
"Quick, get in. Mother, hide with the girls."
That was no ordinary beast—it was unmistakably a Sphinx, a tier-one magical creature only one person in the entire continent was known to have tamed.
Pavel had never seen him in person but had read enough descriptions to recognize him. The long black hair, the crimson eyes—the face of an impossibly handsome man.
Still holding his unfamiliar sword awkwardly in front of him, Pavel stood frozen.
Then he spotted a familiar figure poking their head out from behind Michael—Sancho.
Is he escorting the Grand Duke? Did he come to kill us? No… Sancho's expression is far too cheerful for that.
Still tense, Pavel didn't lower his guard, watching cautiously.
The Sphinx landed gracefully, folding its massive wings with a whoosh. The wind stirred up a swirl of dust and leaves as its heavy form touched the earth.
Instinctively, Pavel stepped back. The beast locked its glowing green eyes on him—eyes that seemed to look straight through to his soul.
It stalked forward, its massive presence pressing down like a physical weight.
The Sphinx, known as Miaomiao, lowered itself to the ground, allowing Michael and Sancho to dismount. But its eyes remained locked on the sword in Pavel's hands.
Miaomiao narrowed her gaze and let out a low growl.
[Michael, why is that boy holding a sword? Didn't he say he wanted to join us?]
Michael smiled softly and reached out to stroke her head, aware of how cautious she'd become since the assassination attempt.
"It's alright, Miaomiao. He's protecting someone. See? His blade isn't pointed at me."
Miaomiao glanced at the direction of the blade—angled between her and the bushes—then snorted in annoyance.
[Hmph. You could've just said so!]
After soothing her, Michael climbed down from her back. Sancho followed, legs shaking as he awkwardly hopped down.
He called out as soon as he regained his footing.
"Lord Pavel! Please, put away your sword! There's no danger. The Grand Duke has come to meet you personally!"
Pavel sighed in relief and quickly sheathed the blade. Only then did Miaomiao turn her head aside, satisfied.
Sancho spoke again, now facing the bushes.
"You may come out. It's safe."
His calm, confident tone brought a sense of security. The duchess and her daughters emerged, still pale and trembling.
Sancho turned to Michael and introduced them.
"Your Grace, this is Lady Rochester and her daughters."
Notably, he omitted any formal titles of nobility.
They'll need to get used to that, the former duchess told herself, her heart pounding. She straightened herself and bowed gracefully.
Michael returned the gesture with a warm smile.
"A pleasure to meet you, Lady Rochester. I am Michael von Crassus."
At the sight of his almost angelic beauty, one of the girls whispered in awe:
"Is he… an angel? Did an angel come to save us?"
The former Duchess hastily covered her youngest daughter's mouth, shaken by everything they had endured.
Pavel stepped forward.
"It is an honor to meet you, Your Grace. I am the heir of Duke Rochester, and—"
He stopped mid-sentence. What was he now? The introduction came to him reflexively, but the title no longer held meaning. What should he call himself?
Seeing Pavel's awkward expression, Michael spoke with gentle ease.
"No need to stand on ceremony. House Rochester will be preserved. Of course, the title of duke, the lands, and the castle will be confiscated… but you'll retain the wealth you managed to carry with you."
A soft sigh of relief escaped from the duchess. As long as the family name lived on, the futures of her son and daughters would not be entirely lost. She still believed in Pavel's capabilities. And more importantly, the stash of treasure they'd brought out reassured her.
"…Thank you. In gratitude for your mercy, I would like to offer you the family's inherited secrets, knowledge, and heirlooms, if you'll accept them."
Michael smiled warmly.
He had already claimed enough of House Rochester's material riches—what interested him more now were the secrets passed down through generations. A venerable family like theirs would surely possess arcane knowledge, perhaps even some long-lost techniques or truths.
Maybe even something about the Outer Gods…
Though he had uncovered much during his time within the Pamir Empire, the more data he could cross-reference, the better.
"I'll gladly accept it," Michael replied. "The beast you see here is my companion, the sphinx Nephertari."