"Who is arguing at this hour of the night?"
It was the hazy and lazily whispered voice of a boy. Wearing loose-fitting pajamas, he dozed on a comfortable, soft bed. Standing up, he peered outside the window to guess the time while rubbing his eyes.
There was a large, spacious room with a bed draped in ornaments and a massive window at the side looking out on the night sky.
The end of the room had a bookshelf filled with thick books, a study table with unburnt candles and reading glasses. Closets lined the walls surrounding the bed and most of the clothes inside it had the same shade of black on them.
The boy then looked into the mirror in front of the bed. Having just stepped in front of it, he began fixing his hair before walking to the door. Suddenly, he remembered something as he ran back to his study table and picked up his glasses before walking out of the room.
As he walked down the hallway the voices became more clear and he could make out the conversation that was taking place.
"Baron Foxridge, I would like to talk about this another time*Cough*Cough*."
"I need an answer tonight, and you cannot ignore this matter just because you are sick. That mine comes in my territory, and I want all rights to it."
"I think we should discuss this in the morning; now is neither the right time nor the right place."
"Heh, will you live to see tomorrow's sunrise?"
"I think you're out of line, Baron Foxridge," a childish but strong voice said, and everyone in the room went silent-the two barons and the six knights who were standing behind their lords, looking towards the person about to enter.
A proud smile spread across the face of Baron Lawrence Acheron as he eyed Baron Foxridge. He expressed unwavering pride for himself and contempt toward his opponent with his gaze.
When Baron Foxridge saw this, he could not help but tremble slightly. It was easy for him to read his opponent's expression and understand what he said.
'Is your son as good as mine?'
The Acheron and Foxridge families had a longstanding rivalry.
The young Lord of the Foxridge family spent his time indulging in wine and women. In addition, he oppressed the commoners and committed crimes.
In contrast, the young Lord of the Acheron family was like his father, Baron Lawrence Acheron.
His humility was evident in many ways. He cared for the people of his territory. He was not the most gifted at studying, but he compensated for it in different ways, unlike many of his noble contemporaries. There have been cases where people from Foxridge Barony moved into the Acheron Barony because the Acheron Family treats their people so well.
A young boy with black curly hair and glasses entered the room as the door opened. He walked into a room filled with adult knights with confidence, despite being but a child.
The look on Baron Foxridge's face changed when he saw the owner of the voice. Lawrence Acheron was a remarkable man and a worthy Lord; in addition, he was blessed with a talented son.
Even though he always thought he was better than Baron Lawrence Acheron, he had a tinge of regret whenever he compared his son to his opponent's.
He had the same pride and aura as his father, Baron Lawrence Acheron. Baron Foxridge was filled with anger just by looking at this boy's face.
"Young Lord."
The three knights and butler of the Acheron Family saluted.
"This is not a place a kid can come in and start talking," a knight spoke from behind Baron Foxridge.
He was adorned in metal armour, and a sword hung on his waist, ready to be drawn to protect his Lord. He had blue eyes with golden hair and a chiselled face.
He could see his Lord's frustration; he also knew his Lord could not speak anything given the situation; hence he decided to do it himself.
The knights of the Acheron Family immediately held their swords, but the young boy gestured them to keep their swords in sheaths.
The young boy ignored Baron Foxridge and his knight and walked straight to his father.
"You should be resting, not talking to people this time of the night. Your health will get further harmed than it already is," the young boy carefully checked his father, making sure he was alright.
"Stop nagging me as your mother used to *Cough*," Lawrence replied but could not help but cough towards the end of his words. Anyone who saw him could tell how ill his health was; he barely held on to his life.
The young boy grabbed a glass of water and passed it to his father. Finally, when Lawrence Acheron settled down, the boy turned towards the guests.
"Greetings, Baron Foxridge," he said with a smile.
"You have the same arrogance as your father," he replied, not pleased being ignored by a kid.
"An apple doesn't fall far from the tree," the boy replied while taking a seat beside his father, Baron Lawrence, before continuing, "I saw Danice a few days ago; he looked exactly like you."
Baron Foxridge's face contorted when he heard the young boy humiliate him in a roundabout way. Everybody knew what kind of person Danice Foxridge was, and the boy's previous and current words suggested he got his habits from his father, David Foxridge.
Finally, Baron David Foxridge could no longer stand the humiliation, and he reached for his sword.
Instantly, a magical aura engulfed the room, creating a sense of pressure, especially amongst the Foxridge family. The sheer force of the magical wave was enough to stop Baron Foxridge from even reaching for his sword. It was like a tsunami had swept over him and his knights.
"If I were you, I would not do that. This is the Acheron Family's estate Baron Foxridge," warned Lawrence Acheron.
"Don't do something foolish that might *Cough*, that might cost you your life," Lawrence spoke from where he sat, his face still weak, his eyes dull, but the aura he burst out with made all the people in the room have a chill in their spines.
"Baron Acheron, you need to give me a clear answer. It was obvious that the mines were in Foxridge territory, and you must remove your soldiers guarding them and let me replace them with mine," Baron Foxridge quickly changed the subject, too afraid to face Lawrence.
Who in the Aetas Kingdom had not heard of Baron Lawrence Acheron? Who had not known how much of a genius he was in sword and magic?
True he was now a bed-sick man who could not even eat with his own two hands properly, but there was a time when just the name of Lawrence Acheron was enough to instill fear in people.
Nevertheless, he suffered from a chronic, incurable disease. Many believed Acheron's heart and mind had been eaten by the loss of his wife. That he could not bear the loss of the person, he loved the most. But no one knew the answer other than the man himself.
Lawrence may be sick and weak now, but no one could tell for sure what this man was capable of even at this point in his life.
Baron Foxridge did not want to take the risk to find that out. As Lawrence had warned, this was the Acheron Family's estate; even without Lawrence himself, Baron Foxridge would be dead if he tried something funny.
"Since when did the Forest of Plunders become Foxridge Families territory?" the young boy questioned.
For decades, 'The Forest of Plunder' near Veila town was part of Acheron Barony. The gold mine found was also a part of the Forest of Plunders. Thus, Baron Foxridge had no right to interfere with the ownership.
Yes, it was close to the border of Foxridge Barony, but it was still under Acheron Barony.
"The gold mine is...," Baron Foxridge tried to explain, but he was immediately cut off.
"You wanted an answer, right Fox?" Lawrence spoke in a determined tone.
"The mine is part of my territory. If you want it, you can always declare a fief war, and we will settle it with an all-out war, but from what I know, you do not have the guts to do it, so you better leave. It's getting dark, and you are not welcome in my estate."
Baron Foxridge opened his mouth, but no words came out; he could not do anything when Lawrence had shown such a firm stand. He would never declare a fief war; he was neither brave nor confident enough to do it.
Left with no choice, he stood up and walked towards the door, followed by his knights. Once he was at the door, he looked at the Acheron's before spitting out his words.
"Tsk, we will see how long you can hold on."
With that said, he walked off, not halting his steps for even a second.
Lawrence turned towards his Knights and Buttler.
"You all can get some rest now as well;* Sigh* this is giving me a big headache."
"Please rest well, my Lord," said the Knights with genuine care in their eyes.
"I will stay right outside the door; just call me if you need anything," said the old Buttler before they all walked outside, leaving father and son alone.
"You should not have used mana like that; it might make your condition even worse," the boy said.
"I will die soon, today or tomorrow, who knows. I don't care about such things anymore; my only regret is that I could not have you live your youth freely. You will have to shoulder many responsibilities after me," Lawrence spoke as he looked at his son dotingly, reaching out with his right hand caressing his face.
Lawrence always believed he could never love anyone more than his wife and his sword, but the day his son was born, he knew he would give up his sword, his wife and even his own life if it meant his son could live a bright future.
"You don't need to worry about anything. Nothing will happen to you; rather, you will be just fine. We will find a cure for this, whatever it is, soon."
"Hahaha."
Lawrence gave a mild laugh as he looked at his son, trying to comfort him.
He was proud that he had such a talented son; he was proud of every little thing he did. Unknowingly, tears came in his eyes; he shed tears for the very first time in his life. He caressed his son's face before speaking once again.
"You will have your awakening in one month," as he spoke, a silver thread appeared in his hand as it reached his son's head.
"I am sealing something. It will open eight hours after the ceremony. Make sure no one is with you when it happens."
He was too stunned to speak; it wasn't the mana thread or the seal. Instead, his father said those words.
"Why are you acting like you are not expecting to be there when it happens?"
"Come here."
Lawrence did not reply to the question; instead, he took his son in his arms. He handed a scroll to him before he hugged him tightly.
"I am always proud of you, the day you walked, the day you said your first words. Every day, every action of yours made me proud, I wish...," he paused, tears fell from his eyes, "make sure you send me off with a smile. I love you...." he paused once again, his breathing a bit rough, "son..."
"I love you too, father," the boy said, wrapping his arms tightly around his father.
The room was silent, and no voice was heard other than the breathing of a single person. When the boy realized something was wrong, he immediately pushed his Lawrence away a few inches before checking him.
He held the man by the shoulder as he looked at the face of his father, a former swordsman, a Baron.
He had a smile on his face, his eyes still had tears in them, but he was content.
The boy looked at his father as tears formed in his eyes. It appeared as if he couldn't believe what was happening. He did not want to acknowledge it.
But the truth was bitter.
During the 1678th year of Elion Calendar, Baron Lawrence Acheron took his last breath.