As their carriage approached the city gate, the sight of a large group of armored soldiers greeted them. Standing in disciplined rows, the soldiers appeared to be waiting for someone.
The carriage slowed as they neared the gate. There stood Duke Red and his son, William, waiting to bid them farewell.
Spark, curious but preferring the comfort of his seat, leaned out of the window.
"What brings the Duke here?" Spark asked nonchalantly.
Duke Red stepped forward, a slight bow showing his respect.
"I came to see off the Holy Scion," he replied politely, his tone as formal as ever.
Spark's gaze shifted to the battalion of soldiers standing ready. "And what's with the entourage?"
"This battalion of soldiers will escort the Holy Scion to his destination safely," Duke Red explained, a note of concern evident in his voice. "Just in case you encounter any trouble on the way."
Spark waved his hand dismissively.
"No need. It will make me look like I'm heading to conquer a city," he replied, straightforwardly rejecting the Duke's offer. "Besides, they will only slow down my pace."
Despite the Duke's repeated attempts to persuade him otherwise, Spark remained firm in his decision. After a brief and cordial farewell, the carriage passed through the gates, leaving the city behind.
...
Later that day, back in the mansion, Duke Red sat across from his son, William. The room was filled with the soft glow of afternoon light, casting long shadows on the polished floors.
"Why did you call for me, Father?" William asked, breaking the silence, his voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of impatience.
"Spies..." William muttered, the realization hitting him like a cold splash of water.
Duke Red nodded gravely. "Yes. We've captured and interrogated a few suspicious individuals, and they all turned out to be spies sent from various empires to observe his moves."
William's eyes widened as the full gravity of the situation became clear.
After that scene on the frontline, Spark was seen as a walking paradox. To some, he was a beacon of hope and a symbol of divine favor, the Holy Scion destined to bring balance and prosperity. To others, especially those who harbored ambitions or guarded their influence jealously, he was an existential threat—a volatile force capable of upending the world order with a mere whim.
His powers, vast and otherworldly, sparked awe and terror in equal measure For the common folk, these stories were a source of fascination and reverence. But for those in power, they were a chilling reminder of their own vulnerability.
Even within the empire that claimed him as its Holy Scion, there were those who viewed him as a threat. These people saw him not as a savior but as a ticking time bomb, a being whose vast potential could one day be turned against them.
For many, the fear was not just that he possessed great power, but that he might one day grow bored or disillusioned. What would happen if he decided that the world no longer amused him? What if, in a fit of pique or existential boredom, he unleashed his full might upon the world? To these minds, Spark was not just a person; he was a force of nature, unpredictable and unstoppable.
"All eyes are on him, watching his every move," Duke Red warned. "If there's even a slight show of weakness on his part, those hidden assailants wouldn't hesitate to strike."
...
As the carriage wound its way through a dense forest path, the tranquility of the journey was abruptly interrupted. A group of large birds, their feathers dark and glossy, blocked the narrow road ahead. Their beady eyes glinted with an almost intelligent menace.
"That guy was a jinx," Spark muttered under his breath, rubbing his temple in frustration.
"How should I deal with them, young master?" asked Zhao Shi, his hand already moving towards the hilt of his sword, ready for action.
A mischievous glint appeared in Spark's eyes as he leaned back in his seat. "We've found our dinner for tonight, Butler Zhao,"
Understanding Spark's intention, Zhao Shi moved with swift precision. In a blur of motion, he sprang from the carriage, his blade gleaming in the dappled sunlight. The birds, sensing danger, flapped their wings and screeched, but it was too late.
With a few deft strokes, Zhao Shi dispatched the menacing birds. They fell to the ground in a flurry of feathers and thuds. The forest returned to its quiet, undisturbed state as quickly as the skirmish had erupted.