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Evan strode through the opulent corridors of the magnificent mansion, his footsteps echoing against the marble floors. By his side was Edmund Darkwood, whose reassuring presence instilled within him a sense of safety.
As they walked, Evan's gaze was drawn to the adornments on the walls. The paintings of knights and ladies depicted in intricate detail caught his attention, as did the suits of armor standing proudly on display.
They were equally impressive, and the sheer magnificence of it all left him awestruck
Evan had always been daunted by such grandeur. In times past, even the mere sight of a painting would send shivers cascading down his spine, beset by intense nightmares of a monstrous creature lurking in the shadows. He used to believe that this abominable creature was lurking around every corner, waiting for the opportune moment to strike, causing him to withdraw from society and shun such extravagance.
But today, his fear had dissipated, for he knew that Christian Wolfie was no monster but a reflection of his past life.
Evan's usual trepidation was replaced with a newfound appreciation for the exquisite artistry on display.
As he examined the paintings, he marveled at the intricate brushstrokes and vivid colors, which seemed to bring the scenes to life before his very eyes. The suits of armor, once intimidating and fearsome, now appeared as stunning works of craftsmanship in his eyes.
For the first time, Evan felt at ease in this grand mansion.
"He has changed. Although the change is subtle, he is headed toward recovery. Magnus's prayers have been answered." Edmund thought when he noticed Evan's changes.
After a brief journey, they arrived at the study of Lord Magnus. Evan gathered his courage and rapped on the door.
"Enter," a voice boomed from within.
Evan opened the door to find his father seated behind his desk.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtMagnus's features were perfectly symmetrical as if crafted by a divine hand.
His skin was smooth and flawless, with a healthy glow that seemed to emanate from within. His eyes were a stunning shade of green, deep and mysterious, yet warm and welcoming at the same time.
His hair was a silky cascade of golden threads that fell in waves around his face, framing his chiseled jawline and highlighting his high cheekbones.
His lips were full and plush, with a natural hue of pink that begged to be kissed.
In short, Magnus was a beautiful man. No one would believe that someone who looked as young and youthful as him was in his early forties!
Magnus's frigid demeanor was enough to deter all from expressing their love.
The surface of his desk was cluttered with books and papers, each one meticulously arranged in neat stacks. The books appeared ancient, their covers cracked and yellowed with age, while the papers were crisp and new, bearing the mark of the lord's seal.
The room was illuminated by a dim blue light emanating from a crystal chandelier that hung overhead. The light glinted off Magnus's skin, casting shadows across the room that danced along the walls.
Despite the coldness of his surroundings, Magnus seemed completely at ease, as though he were in his element.
In the corner of the room, a fireplace crackled and spat, its warmth offering a stark contrast to the icy chill that emanated from the lord.
It was lit, for Evan's sake.
Evan approached his father and bowed before him. "Your son humbly greets the Ruler of the Dark Skies, the Imperial Lord of Frost. Please accept my greetings, Father," he spoke with deference.
ραпdα nᴏνa| сom The Sun-Moon Empire was an intergalactic dominion that spanned several galaxies; its vastness and grandeur were unmatched. The Empire's capital was situated on a planet that glimmered like a gemstone under the warm radiance of the twin suns. It was called Crystalline.
The Imperial Senate ruled over the empire with an iron fist, and its power was absolute. Its headquarters was located on planet Crystalline.
The Imperial Senate had one Imperial Master, four Elders, and seven Imperial Lords. The Imperial Lords were the Patriarchs of the Seven Imperial Clans, and their influence extended far and wide. The Elders, on the other hand, were renowned for their incredible strength, and they were the true masters of the Army.
The Imperial Master was a mysterious figure whose identity was shrouded in secrecy. Not much was known about him. However, it was widely known that it was because of him that the Empire emerged victorious against the dreaded Daemon, an intergalactic warrior race, during the previous war. It was because of him that the Empire had entered a new era of peace, free from the threat of annihilation.
Magnus was one of the Seven Imperial Lords!
"There is no need for formalities when we are alone, my son." Magnus smiled softly as he waved his hand, conjuring a gentle gust of wind that lifted Evan from his knees and helped him back onto his feet.
"Thank you, Father," Evan said, a note of gratitude in his voice.
Magnus gestured to a nearby chair. "Please, take a seat."
His voice was like a refreshing wind on a hot summer day, and there was a hint of warmth in his eyes as he looked at his son.
Edmund, who stood outside the study, couldn't help but think that his old friend really loved Evan. Magnus's voice was usually as cold and unforgiving as the ice surrounding him, yet when he was with his son, he was disgustingly kind and soft-spoken.
Evan deliberately walked slowly towards the chair.
The chair was a work of art, crafted from polished wood and upholstered in rich, luxurious fabric. Evan sank into it, sitting opposite his father.
Magnus studied his son's face, his expression softening as he took in the signs of weariness under Evan's eyes.
"How has your day been?" Magnus asked, his voice warm and kind.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏm"I couldn't have asked for a better day," Evan replied with an unmistakable tone of joy in his voice in response to Magnus' inquiry.
Magnus raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? You look tired." He didn't like his child lying to him.
"I am exhausted, but it's because I had a vision. But this one wasn't terrifying like the ones before. This one was different, more like a sweet dream that has left me feeling better than I have in a while."
Magnus leaned forward, his interest piqued. "Do tell."
Evan recounted his dream to his father, leaving out the part which helped him discover that he was Christian Wolfie.
Magnus attentively listened, his lips curling into a faint smile. "Although it's an odd dream, I'm grateful it had a positive outcome. I hope you can now view the world through a more positive lens," he remarked.
"Father, rest assured. I'm sure I'll recover quickly since I won't mistake my visions for an impending death anymore," Evan said with confidence.
"I'm glad to hear that. However, if you ever require assistance, you know where to find me," Magnus replied, his tone becoming gentler.
Evan smiled gratefully. "I appreciate your support, Father. It means everything to me," he expressed.
"Don't mention it, son. You're my top priority. I'll always be here for you, no matter what." Magnus declared firmly, his gaze unwavering.
'I know.' Evan lowered his head, his bangs casting a shadow over his eyes.
Magnus was the only one who refused to abandon him even when others had. His unwavering love for his son had driven him to challenge even his own father.
Among the four elders, the Grand General of the Empire, Evan's grandfather, might not be the strongest, but he wielded the greatest influence over the Army. It was with his strength and army that he kept Magnus at bay, stopping him from helping his only son.
If not for the Grand General's intervention, Evan's life would have been much better.
"Now, onto more pressing matters," Magnus said after a moment, his tone deep.