Luciens POV:
Not much had changed since our arrival in Vanguard. My brother Alex and I were informed by knights dispatched by our father following his ceremony that we would be residing in the mansion of the 5th Division, while our father remained in the Megumi. We were transported to our new abode, witnessing a grand mansion still undergoing construction. Given my father's penchant for flaunting his wealth, I could only assume this was another one of his ostentatious displays.
Upon arrival, the knights welcomed us with open arms. "Welcome, Sir Lucien, Sir Alex, to your new home, Eldoria," they declared. Glancing at Alex, I noticed his expression brimming with excitement and anticipation for the changes unfolding before us. "Isn't this cool, brother?" he exclaimed, his enthusiasm palpable. I offered a simple nod in response, unable to muster the same level of excitement.
Exiting the transport, we were met by a tall, slender man who exuded an air of mystery. With his stark white hair and military attire, he introduced himself as Draven Darkholm, the newly appointed vice-captain of the 5th Division. "Greetings," he addressed us warmly. "You must be the captain's children. Fear not, our base is currently undergoing reconstruction under the captain's orders, but with today's advancements in science, it should be completed in no time."
Frankly, I cared little for the details of mansion construction. What mattered to me was the relief of no longer having to share a roof with my father.
We settled into life at the 5th Division base, finding ourselves in a new environment that, strangely, felt oddly familiar to our old home in Zenthia. The treatment we received from the soldiers and generals mirrored that of the maids and servants back in the mansion, maintaining a sense of routine amidst the changes.
As always, I remained steadfast in my responsibility towards my brother, ensuring his well-being just as I had done before. Despite the novelty of our surroundings, some things never changed, and my commitment to Alex remained unwavering.
Surprisingly, our father never once made an appearance at Eldoria. Given his prominent status within the division, one might have expected him to at least visit his generals. However, his absence didn't particularly trouble me.
Two years had slipped by since we made Eldoria our home. One night, as the moon cast its pale light into our bedroom, I was roused from my slumber by a persistent knocking on the window. Groggy and disoriented, I stumbled towards the source of the sound, my mind still clouded with sleep.
Without a second thought, I opened the window, only to be met with a sudden gust of wind as a shadowy figure darted into the room with remarkable speed. Before I could react, a hand swiftly covered my mouth, stifling any attempt at a scream. Clad in a dark cloak, the intruder seemed to emanate an aura of mystery.
As the figure removed their cloak, revealing a warm smile, my initial fear began to ebb away. Before me stood a man in his twilight years, his short white hair and beard framing a face that seemed oddly familiar yet shrouded in mystery. With round glasses perched upon his nose, he exuded an air of wisdom and authority.
"I finally get to see you, Lucien," he greeted me, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. Confusion clouded my mind as I struggled to place his identity. "Who are you?" I inquired, my voice muffled by the hand that still lingered over my mouth.
A look of disbelief crossed his features as he responded, "You can't be serious. I'm practically the patriarch of this family." My confusion only deepened, prompting him to sigh in resignation. "I suppose introductions are in order then," he conceded.
With a fluid motion, he raised his right arm, and streaks of blue light coalesced around his palm, forming a dazzling core. Under his breath, he uttered an ancient oath, invoking the power of the cosmos. "With the strength of the stars and the fury of the cosmos, I invoke thee, Starvol, to cleave through the darkness and illuminate my path."
In that moment, the legendary weapon of the Agar family, Starvol, blazed to life in his palm, casting a radiant glow that banished the shadows from the room.
With my eyes widened open, fully awake now, I realised the man who stood before me. No one is in command of the Starvol other than one person, the head of the Agar family. The man who stood before me could be no other than my grandfather, Heinrich Agar. I inquired, "Why is the head of the family..." but before I could finish, he interrupted.
"Lucien, I am your grandfather. Why don't you call me grandpa?" he interjected with a warm smile.
I sighed, attempting to continue my line of questioning, but once again, he cut me off. "Grandpa," he insisted.
Growing increasingly frustrated, I attempted to assert myself. "As I was saying, why is—"
"Grandpa," he chimed in once more.
My patience wearing thin, I tried again. "Why is—" I began, only to be interrupted by another "Grandpa" from him.
Fed up with the constant interruptions, I couldn't help but snap, "We get it, you old geezer!"
He blinked, taken aback by my outburst, before regaining his composure with a chuckle. "Old geezer? That's worse than calling me the head," he teased.
"Well, you've demoted yourself. Well done," I retorted with a smirk.
Amidst the unfolding events, it was inevitable that my brother Alex would also awaken from his slumber. With his hands rubbing his eyes in confusion, he looked to me for answers, his voice laden with uncertainty. "Brother, who is this guy?" he inquired, his gaze shifting between me and our unexpected visitor.
Before I could formulate a response, I watched in shock as the old man swiftly drew his bow and fired a purple energy arrow towards Alex. In an instant, my brother slumped back onto his bed, paralysed by the impact. Panic surged through me, but before I could voice my concern, the old man reassured me with a calm demeanour.
"Don't worry," he assured me, his tone surprisingly gentle. "I merely hit him with a paralysis arrow. He should be back to his usual self by morning."
Relief washed over me at his words, but I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. There was something in the old man's gaze, a depth of emotion that hinted at hidden secrets and unresolved conflicts. If he had something to tell me, then I was prepared to listen, regardless of what it may entail.
As I observed him closely, I couldn't help but let out a muttered remark under my breath, the words slipping out unconsciously. "Old geezer," I muttered, my tone laced with a hint of defiance.
To my surprise, a vein popped on his forehead, his expression shifting to one of irritation. With lightning speed, he delivered a sharp karate chop to the top of my head, his voice stern as he corrected me. "It's grandpa, you punk!" he admonished, his words carrying a mixture of annoyance and affection.