The Invincible Young Master

The lone figure stood on the edge of the towering balcony, his crimson robes rippling like liquid fire in the cool night breeze.

The city spread beneath him, a vast expanse of rooftops, winding streets, and lantern-lit alleys, all bathed in the pale silver glow of the moon.

But he paid no heed to the bustling life below. His focus remained locked onto a single structure in the city's heart.

A grand, white mansion.

His irises gleamed an eerie blue as he stared, his gaze like a sharpened blade slicing through the veil of the night.

There was something about that estate, something hidden beneath its polished exterior. He could feel it, an unnatural presence humming beneath the layers of marble and glass, just beyond his reach.

He narrowed his eyes, pushing his focus further, attempting to unravel the unseen threads of power.

Then, as if repelled by an invisible force, his vision blurred. His irises flickered back to their usual shade, and a sharp exhale escaped his lips.

His fingers twitched at his sides, a subtle sign of irritation.

"So this is the rumored artifact," he murmured, "The heirloom of the Dwight family…"

He let the thought settle, his mind piecing together what little information he had gathered. His fingers flexed slightly before he turned away from the balcony's edge.

"No wonder I can't see through it."

The words had barely left his lips when the faint rustle of fabric echoed behind him. He did not turn; he did not need to.

A dozen figures knelt in unison, their dark cloaks covering around them like shadows.

At the front of the group, a broad-shouldered man lifted his head just enough to meet his master's gaze. A jagged scar traced down his cheek, a mark of battles long past.

"You've returned." The red-robed man's voice carried an edge of expectation. "Did you meet the Tower Master?"

The scarred man hesitated. Just briefly. But even that was enough.

"No…" he finally admitted, his voice firm despite his lowered head. "We were not granted an audience."

Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy.

The red-robed man turned slightly, his sharp eyes sweeping over his gathered subordinates. A flicker of irritation passed over his otherwise composed face.

"Did you not mention the name of our lord?"

"I did," the scarred man responded immediately. "Even so, the Tower Master refused to see us."

"…However," he continued, his tone filled with hesitation, "an attendant relayed a message on the Tower Master's behalf."

The red-robed man's expression darkened. His gaze bore into his subordinate, as if daring him to stall further. "What message?"

The scarred man shifted ever so slightly, as if reluctant to speak. But under his master's unyielding stare, he had no choice.

"His words were…" He inhaled sharply. "'Tell your lord to sleep for another century. Otherwise, he will experience true death.'"

The words rang out, lingering in the air. The wind picked up, howling softly through the high balcony, rustling the edges of their cloaks.

A hush fell over the group. No one dared move.

Then, a low growl rumbled from the red-robed man's throat. His hands curled into fists beneath his flowing sleeves.

His aura shifted, darkening, thickening. It was a subtle change, yet it made the air feel heavier, as though the very space around him bent to his wrath.

"That old traitor…"

Then, a moment later, the red-robed man exhaled slowly.

"It doesn't matter," he said. "Even without his assistance, we will complete this mission."

His gaze shifted back toward the distant white mansion, its pristine facade bathed in the moon's glow.

The building stood still, silent, yet he knew better than to trust its unassuming appearance. His eyes narrowed slightly.

"I was merely exercising caution," he continued. "The Puppet Lord vanished during this mission. That alone is enough reason to be wary. The chances are high that he is already dead… and the child may have a strong protector lurking in the shadows."

A thin veil of cold light flickered in his piercing blue eyes. Whatever he was calculating in his mind, it was clear he had already settled on his course of action.

"Make it swift and soundless," he ordered. "No one should ever know."

"As you command, my lord," came the immediate response from the cloaked figures kneeling before him.

Yet, among them, the broad-shouldered man at the front hesitated. It was subtle, a slight stiffening of his posture, a flicker of doubt crossing his otherwise unreadable expression.

The red-robed man's sharp gaze didn't miss it.

"What's bothering you?"

The robust man hesitated a moment longer, then finally spoke. "My lord, I was wondering… why were we, an elite unit, assigned to capture a mere mortal child?"
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A slow tilt of the red-robed man's head, his expression unreadable. "Oh? That's what troubles you?"

"Yes, my lord." The man's voice carried a note of confusion. "This mission seems… too simple. My brothers have begun to wonder… is this some kind of joke?"

Silence followed.

Then, a dry chuckle.

"It's no joke," the red-robed man said. "You are tasked with capturing a child. That is all."

Still, the robust man frowned. He knew better than to question his master's decisions, yet, he asked. "Then… is the child someone special?"

"Special?" The red-robed man scoffed. "She is a priceless treasure that has manifested in this world."

A hush settled over the gathered figures. Even those who had remained utterly still now showed the faintest reactions.

"Treasure?" the robust man echoed, confusion deepening. "Manifested?"

The red-robed man's lips curved into a thin smile, one that did not reach his eyes.

"That child… is the one born from the Ember of Life."

The moment the words left his mouth, the very air around them seemed to shift.

The kneeling figures, trained to suppress emotion, stirred ever so slightly. The robust man's eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat.

"The Ember of Life…" he whispered, as though speaking the name aloud could summon something beyond his understanding.

A ripple of unease passed through the group. None of them had expected this answer.