Aalaf Alfera entered quietly, led by a lady from the auction house through the corridors of Arin Von Reinhaver's private wing.The scent of exotic spices mingled with the aroma of aged cedar wood filled the air, as candlelight flickered along dark stone walls.Outside noises faded away until silence engulfed the room, as if time itself had stopped.
On a lavish dark fur rug, a young boy of fifteen sat—not just any boy, but the one Aalaf had been waiting for.
Arin Von Reinhaver.
His body was full, and his face lacked sharpness, slowly cutting an apple as if this simple act bore a heavy weight.Yet his eyes were piercing like a hawk's, carrying a terrifying stillness and boundless courage.
On the table beside him lay several chests, including a dark crystal container holding a dragon's heart pulsing slowly, as if not yet dead, surrounded by a faint blue glow.
The lady quietly withdrew after handing Aalaf to Arin and closed the door behind her.
Arin lifted his head toward Aalaf, his eyes never leaving her.
His voice was low but firm:
— "Aalaf… you are now mine, but don't think you are an ordinary slave."
Aalaf stood steady, her gaze piercing his body, examining every detail, trying to read between the lines.
Arin continued:
— "You are my guardian. My right hand. You take care of me, protect me, and obey my orders.But you are free in your actions… as long as you do not disobey my direct commands."
Aalaf, seventeen years old, strong, with a flexible body and skills rivaling the highest ranks of the academy, remained silent.Her family, once powerful owners of pure and clear mana, had been destroyed through a bitter betrayal.She had been taken as a slave but remained untouched, because her value surpassed any other possession.
She knew well who Arin Von Reinhaver was—the living legend.
He was not merely a genius.Arin was a source of pure mana like celestial crystal, completely different from the mana of others stained by grudges and desires.
Stories told of a curse falling upon anyone daring to imitate or claim his identity.They and their families would die, as if the power he held fought any attempt at replication.
She looked at him in shock.
How could this fat, slow-moving boy be that legendary youth?But his eyes did not lie; they harbored a tremendous storm beneath this stillness.
She recalled "Amira Al-Laf," the former leader of her family, who embodied unmatched charisma and strength, her voice heard on battlefields and her decisions unquestioned.
But Arin… was a deadly shadow, needing no shouting or grand display.
His power resided quietly within, no less potent than Amira Al-Laf's strength—in fact, deeper and fiercer.
Finally, he whispered:
— "I hate no one, but whoever betrays me knows their fate."
He gestured toward a side room.
— "Your quarters are there. Tomorrow, we begin."
Aalaf stood silently, realizing she served no ordinary man.She served a legend bearing the weariness of years and a flame of will that would never extinguish.
She knew her journey with him was just beginning, and she would witness a power unlike any she had ever known.