Chapter 269: Sound The Horns

A fierce arrow pierces through the air. It hissed sharply and swiftly stabbed the central mark of the target. 

A faint gust of wind surrounds the lone figure standing at the center of the empty arena. Moulin's white hair elegantly flutters behind him. Normally, it was braided. However, Moulin could only sigh because of one overly attentive woman as his typical hairstyle was altered. The side of his head was braided to his scalp. The two braids met at the center of the back of his head, letting the longer part of his hair cascade down his back. Moulin wasn't used to such style. However, he wasn't bothered by it, for his vision would no longer be covered by his bangs.

Moulin rolled his shoulders and reached for another arrow from his quiver, slung against his back. His hand only grasped empty air, and he realized he had used up all the arrows. As his gaze returned to the rows of round targets in front of him, Moulin sighed. Perhaps, he'll take a break. 

Moulin intertwined his fingers and stretched them above his head. With a groan, he turned back, walking towards one of the rooms beneath a viewing tower. 

Arriving, Moulin took off the quiver's strap before setting it down on one of the benches. Suddenly, he stopped his movements. 

"..."

Straightening, Moulin narrowed his eyes as he turned his attention to the doorway. "Come out."

"..."

Stepping out from the wall was Verun. He scratched his head with a flushed face. It was the first time he was trying to hide from someone he liked. He didn't think Moulin was so perceptive to notice him so quickly.

Although he received Moulin's glare, Verun's expression remained unchanged. He spoke softly, "Hello, young lord."

"Ah, the Veresyah heir." Moulin exhaled, but his wariness didn't lessen a bit. "What do you want?"

"I... " Verun hesitated. "I only want to see you, my lord."

"..." Moulin raised his brows. See me?

"Well, you've seen me. Is there anything else?"

"..." Verun blinked. Normally, others would have reacted differently. Verun should have known Moulin wasn't just any other person. "Ah, forgive me for disturbing you..."

Seeing that he couldn't let Moulin become more and more hostile to him, Verun decided to retreat. There's always a next time. 

He turned around and began to walk away. However, before he could walk far, Moulin suddenly called.

"Verun!"

The veresyah flinched. D-Did he just say my name? Verun became stiff. Hope suddenly bloomed inside his heart. Is this a chance?

He turned with beaming eyes. "Yes?"

"You should stop. You can't win me over." Moulin declared flatly. His tone was neither cold nor warm. It was as though he was just giving advice to a child. 

Verun blinked as he absorbed the words carefully. Finally, a frown occurred on his face. He felt wronged. "I know that... but I want to try."

"Even if you could never impress me? Even if I am committed to another?" Moulin sighed. "You can't go after someone who's already in a relationship. Especially, me." Moulin knitted his brows. "Trust me. You don't want to get between us. Consider this an advice..." 

Finishing his words, Moulin turned around and began to organize the equipment he used. Verun lowered his gaze to his feet. The gold in his antlers was glistening exquisitely. He was carefully sifting through Moulin's words no matter how reluctant he was. 

After a moment, He didn't realize that Moulin had finished, walking past him and exiting the room. 

"Wait-"

"Young master Moulin!" 

A loud voice echoed throughout the empty arena. Moulin lifted his gaze to see Pola running towards him. 

The young woman was heaving as soon as she stopped before Moulin. Moulin's eyes flashed concern. "Pola! Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm alright!" She answered hastily. In her arms was a small glass jug. She offered it to Moulin. "Young Master, you must be exhausted. Here. drink this! This is pure water I personally acquired and purified. You will longer tire once you consume it!"

Pola quickly pushed the jug in Moulin's hands.

Before the young man could even open his mouth, Pola began to fuss about his sweaty clothes and his hair. 

"Pola, I'm fine," Moulin said for the third time. "I'll drink the water if it'll make you feel at ease."

Pola nodded quickly. "Yes!"

The two continued to converse before they left the arena. Verun, who has ignored, could only sigh hopelessly. 

An hour later, Moulin walked down the halls towards Hadrian's study after visiting his father's room. There was a strange feeling that made him perceive Hadrian's location. Perhaps, it was because of their strong bond. Moulin chuckled to himself.

He pushed the doors open. And he was welcomed with the cool air. The balcony must have been opened. Moulin entered the room and turned right to the hall, where he kept a smile as he entered the High Lord's study. Noy anyone could casually enter the study and pass through the barrier that encloses it. However, Hadrian knew one person who could.

"Moulin..." Hadrian's deep voice penetrated Moulin's heart. The Lord tossed the documents on his desk before he made his way towards his beloved. The dim light from the open windows failed to lessen his magnificence.

"Yes, I-" 

Moulin couldn't finish his words when Hadrian suddenly pulled him by his waist. Moulin felt their bodies intimately pressed together. An amused smile curved his lips, and when he lifts his head, a kiss fell upon him. 

With a throaty chuckle, Moulin gladly wrapped his arms around Hadrian's neck. He parted his lips and welcomed the enticing intrusion. Hadrian smiled between their kiss, caressing his lover's delicate cheek. When they parted, it was the sweetest yet the most reluctant part of their intimacy.

"How welcoming." Moulin smiled as he pecked Hadrian's lips.

"Mn, I was about to go and fetch you." Hadrian held him close. 

"No need, Your Excellency," Moulin smirked. "I'm quite capable enough to find my way to you." 

Hadrian's eyes deepened. The exquisite gold rings of his pupils were filled only with filled with Moulin's image. His voice was deep as he spoke, "As do I, forever."

They immersed themselves within each other's touch—whispering, embracing, and kissing. Moulin never felt so content in Hadrian's arms.

However, the moment was broken when gigantic bells sounded throughout the city. It was abrupt and deafening, reaching the ears of the two people who parted from each other.

The bells continued to ring three times before they finally stopped. 

When silence once again filled the land, Moulin shifted with curious eyes. His gaze was on the open balcony. 

He spoke. "What was that?"

Hadrian held his shoulder to ease the youth. "The pathfinders have returned."

Moulin's brows lifted. "You mean the people sent out to recover resources?"

"Yes."

Moulin returned his attention to the balcony. "Do the bells not attract malibreeds? It is quite... loud." 

Hadrian shook his head. "I've had my doubts. But the lords want to welcome them from their journey. Not once have they returned without losing a single person."

Moulin nodded slowly, "I see..."

A sigh escaped his lips, and he leaned on his lover's shoulder. "Although it still surprises me that you let them get their way despite your doubts."

Hadrian smiled and stroked Moulin's hair. "I told you. It is not me who rules the city. It is her people."

Moulin grins. "But you lead."

"That is true, unfortunately. I can't let them decide on their own. They're  too... unstable."

Moulin nodded with a smile. "I'm glad you came to help them." 

"I'm glad it was you who wants me to..." Hadrian swoops down to place a kiss on the young man's exposed forehead. "The hairstyle suits you." 

Moulin rolls his eyes. "Thank Pola for this."

"Mn, I could promote her."

"She insisted I tell you to let her serve me." Moulin sighed. 

"How bold of her."

"Trust me. She's very fierce and persistent." Moulin chuckled. "It's cute."

Golden eyes deepened. Hadrian kept a smile. "Should I be worried?"

Shaking his head, Moulin answered. "No need. Someone wouldn't be happy?"

"You?"

"Nope..." Moulin's eyes gleamed with amusement and intrigue. She finished. "Ghana..."

"About time." Hadrian shifted his gaze. 

When Moulin was about to question Hadrian's words, he paused, noticing the severe look in the lord's features. 

Moulin silenced himself. He felt Hadrian's cautiousness and ferocity rising. 

Something was up...

"Hadrian?" Moulin called out. "What is it?"

The moment he spoke the last word, a flaring noise spreads throughout the city. It was loud and alarming—a horn's explosive sound.

Moulin's brows drew together, and he clutched Hadrian's sleeve. 

"What's happening?"

Hadrian's eyes turned ruthless. "The pathfinders are in danger..."

With this, Moulin understood. 

Hadrian pulled Moulin's waist and teleported the both of them. Within a second, Moulin found himself within the assembly hall of the Lords. The Leaders had already gathered. They were murmuring anxiously.

"Your Excellency!" Varick hurried to the pair's side. He saluted briefly before explaining. "Malefics, attacking the pathfinders."

"We ride at once," Hadrian affirmed. His piercing gaze silenced the entire hall. 

After a couple of exchanges, the Veresyahs were tasked to analyze the situation with the mages and the Morfaers, half-human creatures that would aid the maeruthans. The pathfinders were heading towards the city and are currently intercepted by lurking malifecs. Perhaps, Malefics that had been spying on Helios at its borders. They picked the perfect time to ambush the pathfinders just before the pathfinder could reach the city. Demons or malibreeds cannot step foot near the border because of the White forests. However, malefics aren't demons, although some of them received a demon's blessing. The demon's blessing either to create and summon malibreeds and monsters of any kind or gifted with horrific power

"Perhaps, it would be safer to bring our young lord with us." Someone suddenly spoke up. 

...

There was a brief silence that was immediately broken by another voice. 

"Never! I will not allow it!" 

The voice was loud, filled with stoic refusal and anger. Moulin shifted his gaze, and he stopped. 

"Brother Emlen..." He whispered. 

Steel-grey eyes were frosty and determined. His gait was forceful and fierce. He didn't cower even when he faced Hadrian, who was keeping Moulin close to him. 

Emlen eyed the people around him. His tone was harsh. "I will not allow it!"