Chapter 257: The Third Young Master's Reveal

The tall open windows welcomed the gust of cool air. A few fluttering snowflakes went over and kissed the smooth floor. Then, it's warmth, melting it in seconds. There was no presence of warmth, vibrant sunlight, as it had always been every day. However, it failed to lessen the daring gold luster of the man standing within the empty room.

White gauze curtains danced, and his sun-like eyes gazed blankly at the nothingness. Then, muscles tensing, jaw clenching, and his eyes darkening, he stood unmoved. The emptiness of the room seemed to suit his mood.

Suddenly, three knocks sounded from the door behind him.

"Your Lordship..." With furrowed brows, Varick called worriedly. It has been an hour, and Lord Hadrian had not come out from the room. Somehow Varick was concerned. He could not sense any presence inside, for the room was heavily guarded by a protective barrier. What was his Lord doing inside?

"My Lord?-"

Suddenly, golden eyes flashed fiercely. Varick was frozen from where he stood as a heavy aura surrounded him, trapping him. Staggering backwards, Varick heaved as he palmed his chest. "Forgive me. I-I will leave…" After saying this, he retreated to the halls under the terrified eyes of the knights awaiting him.

A deep exhale escaped Lord Hadrian's mouth. His deep gaze lifted, and he forced himself to endure the fear in his heart. 'He'll come back. He said he would. There is no need to cause a fuss' He was comforting himself. And he didn't deny it.

Just wait… a bit more…

Meanwhile, within a particular house in the third district, four people seemed to freeze like statues. The scent of paper and wood should bring a calming effect on those within the room. However, the shock was too great to soothe their overwhelmed hearts.

Moulin had his back facing the three people. His body was tense as he stood. Alarm exploded inside his mind, then it was silenced by the growing nervousness rising up, as if he could spit it out of his mouth. Sweat began to form on his forehead as he swallowed. Ghana was at lost of what to do. She could only face Jagra and Pola with an awkward smile.

Feeling as though their stares could burn holes through his body. With a stuttering breath, Moulin decided to face it all. There was no running away from this. He slowly placed Snow and Kier on the floor and straightened his back. Heart pounding in his chest, Moulin exhaled and gradually whirled around.

It was his eyes that first met Jagra's and Pola's gaze. His wavy, pure white hair had shocked them, but when Moulin revealed his face to them, it was as though something had yanked their souls out of their bodies. The familiarity of Moulin's face stunned them like a hammer hitting their bones. Jagra's eyes widened in shock. He was not a fool to think that this was one of Ghana's jokes again. The young man standing at the doorway with a soft smile was greatly similar to the friend he had lost a long time ago. On the floor was a Snow-white fox, also comparable to his deceased friend's lost pet.

Before he could think, his mouth moved.

"Moulin?…" It was confirmation. He had to know he was real and not some foolish illusion. His heart drummed wildly as he waited for a response.

Moulin's eyes shifted to Jagra, and he responded, "It's been a long time, Jagra."

At these words, Jagra felt like his breath was knocked out of his chest. He shakes his head in disbelief. "This… H-How…" His hand rests on the table to support himself. How is this possible?

THUD!

The three people flinched at the sound. Pola had fallen to the floor. The parchments scattered around her unconscious state.

"P-Pola!" Moulin yelled.

Jagra snapped out of his trance and quickly knelt at the woman's side. He examined her and quickly faced the both of them. "Quickly! help me bring her to the guest room!"

.............

"I didn't know their reactions would be… so severe."

Ghana rubbed her chin. Concern molded her expression as she sat on the sofa. Displaying her open nervousness, the endless tapping of her foot noised within the silence of the room.

Moulin was staring at the door worriedly. Delicate fingers fiddle with the scarf in his hands. While he ignored the playful noises the two little beasts made below him, he thought about how discomforting his presence was to his friends. For eight years, he was deemed dead in their hearts and then he suddenly revealed himself, grown and well. There was a chance they would feel betrayed by him. They should be angry at him.

Moulin clenched his hands. 'Was this a mistake?'

"Hey…"

Ghana's voice suddenly brought him back. She eased her look and spoke when Moulin faced her. "Don't worry too much. It was I who chose to do this. Don't blame yourself…"

Moulin stared at her, and he nodded with a sigh. He kneaded his forehead briefly before finally responding.

"Don't you… hate me?" Moulin began with knitted brows.

"What?" Ghana shook her head. "Why would you-"

Her words were interrupted when the doors abruptly opened with a loud creak. Jagra stepped out of the room as he tucked his gloved in his pockets. Adjusting his glasses on his nose, he turned to the two people. "She's stable. She's just too… shocked." HIs eyes glanced at Moulin.

"That's a relief…" Ghana sighed, as she placed a hand on top of her heart.

…

The silence inside the room was a bit heavy. Ghana frowned, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Her eyes landed on Jagra, who was intensely staring at Moulin.

"So… "Jagra suddenly strode towards Moulin with serious eyes. Moulin was intimidated by the look of his once gentle friend. It felt as though he was being preyed by a snake.

"Jagra…"

Jagra threw a look at Ghana, and she immediately raised her arms and backed away.

Moulin furrowed his brows, and his eyes didn't stray from Jagra's gaze. The man stopped a meter away from him. He raised his hand.

Moulin clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. However, the hit he had expected never landed. Instead, arms embraced him tightly. Jagra was hugging him. He was burying his face in Moulin's shoulder. Jagra's arms trembled as he tightened his arms. Boundless relief and joy seemed to flood his heart. There was sorrow as well. The years of grief he had kept in his chest seemed to dissipate.

"You're back." Jagra whispered. His voice was trembling. "You're alive… I knew it."

A smile finally broke into Moulin's face. He returned Jagra's embrace, feeling the warmth of his friend's hug. "I'm back…"

Staring at them, Ghana sighed with a smile.

The pair remained in their current position for a few minutes before Jagra pulled away. They settled on the sofa as Jagra brought the tea he'd brewed himself. The warm glow of the ceiling light was warm and bright. The curtains were closed and Moulin was oblivious of the time that passed. He was too immersed in explaining his story to Jagra and Ghana. From the Elven oracle's prediction, the demon hunting him, the Malefics, and his revival. He was open to them this time. Although he excluded the details of his transmigration. He didn't want to confuse them even more. Finally, with a deep breath, he exposed his relationship with Hadrian.

With a concerned face, he waited for their reactions.

"We know…" Jagra responded, as he put down his teacup. His response surprised Moulin greatly. They know?

Jagra's eyes deepened. His expression was neutral as he met Moulin's eyes. "Lord Hadrian revealed all of it years ago. He wasn't even trying to hide it. Everyone already knows."

Moulin didn't know how to react.

"Moulin, its alright." Jagra sighed. A look of understanding crossed his face. "Lord Hadrian gave no significance about what everyone thought. He cherished you so much that he didn't even care about showing his despair." He turned to the windows, recalling the black ring that around the three towers. "He cares for you…"

A crease appears between Ghana's brows. "More than we know…"

Moulin tries to read their expressions before he reveals a smile, "He's also the one who found me at the rift."

The teacup that neared Jagra's mouth paused. Lifting his eyes, he continued. "The Rift?"

Ghana turned to Jagra with uncertain eyes, as though a thought crossed her mind. She faced Moulin. "You were at the Rift?"

"Yes." Moulin lowered his eyes.

"…" Jagra's eyes widened. He put down his tea and gave Moulin an intense stare. "T-Tell me what happened…"

Unsure of what made Jagra wear a shocked expression, he told him about the events of his arrival at the Rift. His voice was soft and calm as he explained. All the while Jagra clenched his fists, the more he listened to Moulin.

Suddenly, Ghana abruptly stood up. Her eyes flickered with shock as she looked at Moulin. "It was you? The White Forest… you created it?"

The White Forest? Does she mean the ice-covered forest? Moulin blinked. "Yes…"

"Moulin…" Jagra exhaled loudly. He rose from his seat and sat himself next to Moulin. "Give me your hand…"

Without thinking, Moulin brought his hand to his friend, allowing Jagra to hold it. Curling his fingers around Moulin's slender ones, Jagra slightly closed his eyes, swept his internal energy throughout Moulin's internal soul. Surprisingly, there was no barrier. Moulin's soul was exposed. Vulnerable. The examination didn't last for more than ten seconds before Jagra let go of Moulin's hands.

Sweat layered Jagra's forehead, and he took a deep breath before he downed what was left of his tea. He exhaled. "You should be more careful. There was not even a hint of protection inside you. You're an easy target to be corrupted. Your powers have advance in leaps and bounds. It is unimaginably… powerful. I don't know what happened to you after your rebirth, but I don't think the benefits you gain would all be positive. I… have never seen such raw pure energy for several years." Jagra rubbed his face. "You must always be cautious. Having this kind of power will endanger you. Especially at these times… Malibreeds are drawn to pure energy and Malefics will capture those with pure mana. Even our own people… can't all be trusted."

Moulin stared down at his hand. Is it that… powerful? How come he doesn't feel any different from before? However, he did notice some abnormalities. Such as how his power sometimes trigger because of his emotions, the snowfall that he realized he had created obliviously at the arena, or how his ice could purify and… scald demons.

Moulin swallowed with a nod. "I'll be careful…"

A few hours passed and Moulin didn't realize that he was spending too much time away from the Three Towers. Hadrian must have noticed by now. A frown etched Moulin's face. Jagra lifted his eyes, noticing his friend's look. It's been a long time since he had seen Moulin's troubled expression. Before he was always looking brave and confident, but now Jagra realized how emotional his friend was inside him. To think he had only realized this when Moulin was gone. He felt slightly depressed.

"I must return you…"Ghana spoke. "We should hurry before the Golden Lord notices that you're gone."

Moulin stopped. He sighed as he nodded. Although reluctant, Jagra knew he shouldn't monopolize all of Moulin's time. He escorted his friends and the two little beasts to the door of the house.

Moulin paused before he took one step beyond the door. He glanced at Jagra. "Will… Pola be alright?"

Jagra stopped. The look in Moulin's eyes made him soften his gaze. "She'll be fine… I'll explain everything to her…"

"Thank you…" Moulin smiled.

Jagra's mouth curled into a smile. From the doorway of the house, he watched as his two friends departed. A curtain from the upper floor window was slightly parted and a young woman silently watched the two figures leave. Sorrow enveloped her form.