Tik. Tak. Tuk. Tik. Tik.
The rhythmic tap of chisel against gemstone filled the room, each sound deliberate and sharp. Yen leaned over his desk, his sharp features illuminated by the flickering candlelight. He worked with precision, carving intricate patterns into a small red gemstone, his expression unyielding. Every so often, he'd grunt in irritation, his focus tightening like a predator honing in on its prey.
What was he doing now?
After a day filled with Proven Academy's grueling classes and his father's infamously exhausting lectures, Yen had finally been granted a sliver of free time. And this was how he chose to spend it—grumbling over a rock.
I watched from the doorway, debating whether to interrupt. The question from last night still burned in my mind, but Yen was like a minefield—one wrong step, and you'd find yourself metaphorically (or literally) blown apart. He muttered something under his breath as the chisel scraped the surface again, his intensity making it clear this wasn't the moment to bother him.
Until he made it the moment.
"Kiyel. Gather all the red brooches from the accessory closet and bring them here," he ordered without even glancing up.
I blinked, scrambling to obey. The "accessory closet" turned out to be a vault of treasures that could fund an empire. Brooches, necklaces, rings—rows upon rows of gleaming jewels stared back at me. Yen's obsession with red was abundantly clear. Nearly every piece bore crimson stones that shimmered like captured flames.
Arms full of brooches, I returned to his room and set them down. He still didn't look up, already prying the gemstones from their settings and discarding the rest like useless debris. His hands moved with a confidence that suggested he'd done this a thousand times before, yet there was a tension in his shoulders that hinted at stakes far greater than simple craftsmanship.
I opened my mouth to speak—this was my chance to ask—but my courage faltered. I stood there awkwardly, my nerves tangling into knots.
"Just spit it out," Yen said without looking up, his tone a blend of irritation and indifference.
I swallowed hard. "Uh… Young master, about last night… Could you, uh, let me know next time? So I don't, you know, panic?"
He paused, his chisel hovering mid-air. Then, to my shock, he smirked. A smirk!
"Next time?" he echoed, his voice unreadable. "I went out to see a woman."
"A woman?" The words tumbled out before I could stop them, followed immediately by my disastrous follow-up. "You went to a brothel?"
The chisel in his hand froze. Slowly, Yen turned to me, his expression devoid of amusement. His sharp eyes bore into mine, and I instantly regretted every life decision that had led me to this moment.
"Do I look like someone who frequents brothels?" he asked, his voice as calm as it was lethal.
I swallowed hard. "N-no, young master! Not at all! My apologies!"
He waved me off and returned to his work. "I sensed you coming last night," he said casually. "If I didn't want to be found, you wouldn't have found me."
My jaw dropped. "So… that whole balcony thing was just… a test?"
Yen didn't answer, his attention fully on the gemstone now. His hands moved with renewed precision, carving patterns so intricate they seemed impossible. When he finally spoke again, his tone was softer but firm.
"Make sure no one finds out I sneak out at night," he said.
"How long have you been doing this?" I asked, more curious than cautious.
"A month," he replied as if sneaking out past a household of trained staff was a casual hobby.
A month?! How had no one noticed? Not his father, the head butler, or even the notoriously nosy maids? Yen was either a genius or a ghost.
"Understood, young master. Your secret is safe with me," I said, bowing low.
"Good."
He finished carving the gemstone and held it up to the light, inspecting his work. The patterns caught the light, creating the illusion of tiny flames flickering within the stone. Satisfied, he set it in the center of a crimson ribbon, arranging it alongside others in a neat box.
Was this… a gift?
For whom? A lover? A political ally? No—Yen didn't strike me as the romantic type. But the care he put into these ribbons hinted at something deeply significant.
"Place these in a box and follow me to the training grounds," he ordered, snapping me out of my thoughts.
-----
The training grounds stretched out under the fading sunlight, their silence only amplifying my unease. Yen stood across from me, his gaze cold and calculating.
"Kiyel of the fallen Daguros sect," he began, his words cutting like a blade. "A family once renowned for its summoners. For centuries, your lineage has produced nothing but mediocrity. You are the last of your bloodline."
I stiffened. "How… how do you know that?"
He ignored my question, continuing as if my protest didn't matter. "You are a summoner," he declared.
A summoner?
His words hit me like a thunderbolt, and something clicked in my mind. The system. My purpose. The realization struck hard: this wasn't just survival—this was my chance to grow stronger, to carve out a place for myself in this dangerous world. If I wanted to live, if I wanted to stand beside someone like Yen, I needed power.
"I wouldn't mind helping you awaken your Soulbound mark," Yen added, as casually as one might offer tea.
"Soulbound… mark?" I echoed, the words unfamiliar.
// Soulbound mark: A summoner's mark that appears on the forehead. Its color determines the summoner's potential. Red is the highest; violet is the lowest. //
Oh, great. Now the system decides to be helpful.
Yen smirked at my confusion. "It's a mark of talent. Whether you survive in this world depends on whether you can awaken it."
My chest tightened. This was it—the system's answer to my desperation. A path forward.
"I am honored to learn from you," I said, bowing deeply.
"Good." Yen's smirk turned faintly amused. "Run 100 laps. Now."
"Wait—what?!"
"It's a warm-up," he said, settling onto a bench with a book in hand.
-----
Two Weeks Later
I was dying.
Between standing guard outside Yen's room at night and enduring his brutal "training" during the day, I was a walking corpse. My progress in reading the summoning language was abysmal—two letters. Two.
But somehow, his insane regimen was working. My body felt stronger, my movements sharper. Every grueling moment brought me closer to something I couldn't quite name.
Then everything changed.
One morning, the head butler summoned me. "The young master is no longer part of this household," he announced curtly. "You will resume your duties in the madame's manor."
"What?!" I blurted. "He left?!"
"Yes." The butler turned and walked away, leaving me reeling.
In my room, I found a book on my desk. It was Yen's—a guide to the Soulbound mark. Inside, the incantations were written in phonetic script, carefully tailored so even someone as illiterate as me could grasp their meaning.
I clenched my fists, my heart pounding with determination.
So, this was my start.
My journey would take me through fire and trials, but I'd find him again. Yen Von Sumidra had given me the chance to rise.