A figure cloaked in the opulence of the mansion materialized in the courtyard. Elder Maison, a titan of the realm, stepped into the morning light, his presence a tangible force. A phalanx of guards followed, their faces etched with the same unquestioning obedience as the armour they wore.Their world, however, was about to shatter.In front of them, a scene of chaos spread out. Captain Kaelen, a man of iron and honour, was kneeling. His opponent, a young man with remarkable features, wearing a tunic shirt and black pants that emphasized his relaxed stance, stood over him. It was a silent accusation of the defeated soldiers scattered around like discarded toys. The wide-eyed guards mirrored the absurdity of the situation with their disbelief."Tend to the wounded," Elder Maison's voice was a low, commanding rumble. It was a stark contrast to the surreal chaos. The guards began their grim task with mechanical precision, their movements sharply contrasting with the stillness of the fallen.