From the second floor, through a window, garbed in just pants and a loosened robe that revealed his hard muscles, Asher watched the soldiers below clad in armour moving around in a strict formation.
A week had passed since the war ended, and the news of their victory spread like wildfire. From the towns in the borders to the great cities in the heartland of other dominions, his name and fame echoed.
House Ashbourne's strength was no longer a secret. He was no longer just a warlord—he was an official lord, known throughout Tenaria.
And the white envelope resting on the polished table beside him was proof. It bore the seal of Duke Ohad Mormont himself, inviting him to a ball.
This was no doubt an invitation for an alliance!
A faint smile graced his handsome face.
The troop below came to an abrupt halt, their movements so precise that one would doubt if they were statues and not actual humans.
These were the paladins that would accompany him to the ball, dressed in expensive silk tunics and pants befitting noble knights. Cloaks draped over their horses as they marched about under Sir Moses' command.
Though elegant, the attire was unfamiliar to them. They would need to get used to it.
Everything about their attire was black—except for the emblem on their cloaks.
Asher turned his gaze toward Cynthia, who was working on his attire.
"How does Alec fare?"
"He's alright," she answered. "Although he can now see in the dark and has grown much stronger than before, he hasn't shown any strange behavior. In fact, he's preparing the recruits for training."
"I see. His heart is set on conquering the Wildlands."
Asher tilted his head, his eyes drifting the distant north. It has been two months since he left the depths and this marked the first week of the third month.
The Edomites would soon begin their march toward the Winter Stronghold.
This meant the depths would be embroiled in war this winter!
Without his forces, the winter stronghold and every other human stronghold would fall. And the moment they did, his domain would be left vulnerable to the Edomites, the Dothans and countless other clans.
This might mean an endless war.
Such a scenario would slow down the county's growth and Asher wasn't going to let anything stop his growth.
His mind was set on growing his territory because it was the only way to survive in this cruel world.
His gaze drifted before settling on the vast labyrinth of houses, kissed by the brilliant sunlight. Thousands of people moved through the streets—in carriages, horsebacks, carts and on foot.
Once, this small town had a little over 5000 people, stricken with poverty. But now, it was flourishing and was tens of thousands strong. This is what he took pride in.
His land would be a paradise.
Here, no slaves would be found.
Here, the oppressors would be executed in public.
"Those spies…" he muttered, deep in thought. Soon, the assassins sent to Winter Stronghold would return, unleashed into the county to hunt down the spies and their networks.
Cynthia's voice pulled him from his thoughts.
"You've done well," he said to her, his gaze settling on the neatly laid-out attire on the bed. It was far better than the one he had worn to Count Wiliam's daughter's birthday party, yet this wasn't the attire he would don to honour the Duke's ball invitation.
Shortly after donning his attire, he strode out of the room with Cynthia following closely behind him. Taking large strides, he descended the stairs, straight toward the dining hall.
As he walked in, countless maids and servants were making their exit, leaving behind a dining table filled with an extravagant feast. The rich aroma filled the room like an invisible fog.
Kelvin stood right next to his seat, wearing a warm smile.
Unfortunately, the maids and servants seemed terrified of that warm smile. Even with his new position, Kelvin had not relinquished his right as the butler.
The moment Asher took his seat, Kelvin let out a heavy sigh, prompting him to tilt his head.
Kelvin glanced at the long, nearly desolate table. "The table has eleven more seats, yet only you sit here. Soon, it will be two years, my lord. You need a family. Maybe that is the reason I haven't passed on—my predecessors can't allow me to go over there while you remain alone."
"Tsk!" Asher clicked his tongue while wearing a scowling expression. "You won't be going anywhere for a long time, Kelvin. If you dare to die, I'll have the dark mages summon your soul from the spirit world."
Kelvin's eyes widened.
"My Lord! My time in this world isn't infinite!"
"I don't care. You'll die when I want you to." Asher replied while enjoying his meal. While his head facing the table, a faint chuckle escaped him, one that Kelvin couldn't see.
"The carriage is ready. You were supposed to be in the Mormont capital before the ball."
Asher sighed. "There was too much work to do. I couldn't just head for Vale while leaving my domain in shambles after months of long war."
"I'll leave by noon… and inform Sapphira about my departure."
Kelvin raised an eyebrow, then a bright smile formed on his lips. "I shall do so."
Step. Step. Another Step.
A towering white bear, standing on its two hind legs, ascended a grand staircase—10 meters wide and 15 meters long! By the sides of the grand stairs stood rows of tall soldiers, clad in full armor, their iridescent wings folded neatly behind their backs, their eyes fixed straight ahead.
It was as if they couldn't see the large bear-man.
This bear-man bore an uncanny resemblance to the Voldibears Asher had met in the Spirit World but this one looked more imposing with long dreadlocks that cascaded down to his abdomen. Metal rings bound, some of the dread locks and those rings looked like they weighed quite a lot.
A massive greatsword rested on its back.
He knew the power these guards possessed. One wrong move and all of them would surround him in mere seconds!
Quickening his pace, he ascended to the magnificent palace at the top of the staircase. The moment his foot touched the reflective marble floor, a deep, sonorous voice rang.
"Gerald. It's been a while."
Gerald, towering at a staggering 7 feet, looked at the 5 '9 foot tall man with multicoloured dragonfly wings folded at his back. His long black hair flowed freely to his back and he wore a silk tunic, one arm clad in armor from the pauldron to the gauntlet.
"Prince Jared. It's an honour to be in the thoughts of the heir of Cyrenia."
Jared smiled. Then he turned, gesturing to his father and mother on their thrones at the end of the hall.
With a nod of approval, Gerald stepped forward and knelt before the emperor and empress.
"Your Majesty, it is an honour to be before your presence, but I come bearing great news."
Geriant lifted up an eyebrow.
"Your lost daughter has been found. We got a signal of her force in the land of humans. She must have awakened her heritage talent."
The empress, Argenta, rose to her feet while Jared, standing near the door, stood frozen in place.