As the golden carriage glided across the grassy plains, Alice stirred in her sleep.
A faint flicker crossed her brow, and her eyelids fluttered open. She blinked a few times, shaking off the last traces of sleep.
Pooella noticed the movement and gently brushed a stray lock of hair from the young girl's face.
"You're awake, little miss," Pooella said softly, her voice warm and comforting.
Alice yawned and stretched her arms, taking a moment to look around the carriage. Her eyes quickly found Reynold, who had already noticed that she was awake.
"Are you hungry?" Reynold asked, his tone calm, though there was a hint of care in his voice.
Still rubbing her eyes, Alice nodded sleepily.
Without a word, Reynold waved his hand and retrieved out a small pouch.
Opening it, he revealed a stash of snacks, something he had kept on hand for emergencies.
"Here," he said, offering the snacks to her. "You can have some of it."
Alice's eyes brightened with excitement as she eagerly took the food.
"Thank you, Uncle Reynold!" she exclaimed, already tearing into the snacks with enthusiasm.
As she munched happily, a rare, gentle smile flickered across Reynold's face, softening his usual calm and serious demeanor.
For a moment, there was a warmth in his expression that seemed almost fatherly.
But just as quickly as it had appeared, the smile faded, replaced by his usual composed look.
Suddenly, Reynold stood up, his expression turning serious. Then he glanced toward the door of the carriage.
"Stay inside,"
Pooella and Zhao Shi exchanged uncertain glances, instantly sensing the shift in his tone.
Without hesitation, Reynold slid open the door and climbed up to the top of the carriage with ease.
Once on top, his sharp gaze swept across the horizon.
Even though they were speeding across the plains, he had sensed something off—something approaching from multiple directions.
The plains stretched out vast and empty, with nothing but open space as far as the eye could see.
Yet Reynold's instincts were rarely wrong.
Soon enough, distant dots on the horizon began to take shape.
At first, they were barely visible, but with each passing second, they grew larger, moving fast and closing in on the carriage.
They weren't just following behind—they were coming from several angles, surrounding them.
Reynold's eyes narrowed, as he glanced over his shoulder at the rapidly approaching figures, calculating their speed.
The golden carriage, though faster than anything pulled by beasts, was still being caught up at an alarming rate.
Whoever was after them wasn't just chasing—they had prepared for this moment, and they were closing in fast across the open plains. They knew what they were doing.
"I should've prepared something faster," Reynold murmured to himself, shaking his head, a note of irritation in his otherwise calm voice.
He looked back again, watching their pursuers. "Well, it's my first time being chased like this. I didn't expect this kind of ambush."
His gaze swept over the open land one more time, taking in the scale of the threat. It was clear that these people had planned their attack carefully.
Reynold let out a low curse under his breath, feeling a rare moment of frustration.
The estate mansion, known for its sheer size and majesty, was now gone—replaced by a strange, unsettling emptiness.
Not even rubble or debris remained, just a blank, empty land where one of the pillars of the empire had existed only moments before.
"What happened to the Duke's mansion?" a man in the crowd asked, his voice filled with confusion.
"Did it vanish? Just like that?" another onlooker whispered, eyes wide with disbelief.
"That was the Duke's seat of power. How could something like this happen without a trace?" an elderly man muttered, shaking her head as if trying to comprehend. "There wasn't even a sound."
"This doesn't add up," a younger man said, his brow furrowed in deep thought. "The Duke's mansion is one of the most secure places in the entire empire. It can't just disappear into thin air."
A new voice, filled with tension, cut through the murmurs. "Was this an attack? But who would dare to strike against the Duke?"
As the crowd continued to whisper and speculate, the air grew thick with tension.
The disappearance of the Duke's mansion was unfathomable—had there been an attack, or was this some kind of powerful magic at play?
With each passing moment, the uncertainty grew, and with it, the crowd's unease.
Meanwhile, far above the growing commotion, on the top floor of the tower, the atmosphere was much calmer.
An attendant approached an elderly man seated in a high-backed chair, his expression serious yet composed.
"The Duke's estate..." the attendant began, his voice quiet but steady. "It's gone."
The elderly man, his wrinkled hands resting peacefully on his lap, remained still, his eyes closed as if deep in thought.
He nodded slowly, as though he had been expecting this news.
"I see," he said, his voice calm. "It's rare for him to activate that artifact... something significant must have happened."
The attendant's brow furrowed slightly, concern evident in his eyes.
"Should we be worried?" he asked, his voice dropping. "The disappearance of a power like the Duke's could cause unrest very quickly."
The old man finally opened his eyes, revealing the depth of wisdom gained through centuries of experience.
He stared out into the distance, untroubled.
"No need for concern. The Duke has few enemies left—at least, none who still live. And those who are alive wouldn't act so recklessly."
The attendant bowed slightly in acknowledgment.
"I understand," he said, preparing to leave.
But before he could turn away, the old man spoke again, his voice calm yet carrying a note of caution.
"However..." he paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "The Duke's heir... the holy scion has made many enemies. This event could stir up chaos. Who knows what it might set in motion?"
The attendant's eyes flickered with understanding. "I understand. I'll keep a close watch on the situation."
After the attendant left, the old man remained seated, his gaze slowly shifting toward the large window overlooking the city.
The setting sun cast long shadows across the streets below, but the uneasy feeling in his chest lingered, like a distant storm creeping closer.
His fingers tapped softly on the arm of his chair as he muttered to himself.
"What are they thinking? Making a move against him..." His voice trailed off, and he narrowed his eyes, as though trying to see through the web of hidden plots and schemes. "Haven't they learned anything from the past? Fools..."
The old man leaned back in his chair, the weight of old memories settling heavily on his shoulders.
He sighed deeply, frustration and uncertainty clouding his expression.
"They better not drag me into this mess," he muttered, shaking his head slowly.