Chapter 113: ¹¹³The Last Day In Valen
The silence of the night in the Valen estate always had a different texture to it.
It wasn’t as freezing as Zenithar Academy, yet it wasn’t entirely free from the shadows either.
Yuna was still standing in the dimly lit hallway, squeezing the edges of the empty wooden tray in her hands tightly.
Her heart was still pounding after nearly colliding with Kaelia. However, it wasn’t the shock that made her chest feel tight.
It was the scene in the living room earlier, and the bitter reality she had to swallow whole.
With slow, nearly soundless steps, the girl returned to the kitchen. She set the empty tray down, then leaned against the old wooden table to steady her nerves.
"Fuuu..." Yuna took a long, deep breath.
She inhaled the comforting scent of lingering firewood and spices.
Her slightly droopy light brown eyes stared at the iron kettle resting over the dying embers. Her slightly trembling fingers began to move, brewing a fresh pot of tea. A thin wisp of steam billowed into the air.
She arranged it on a smaller wooden tray. A simple routine, but tonight, it felt much heavier.
Yuna picked up the tray, walking down the quiet corridor toward the study at the end of the left wing. Her steps were practiced, measured so the old floorboards wouldn’t let out a single squeak.
Yellowish candlelight peeked from the crack under the door. Yuna stopped, steadying her breathing one more time.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
She gently tapped the teakwood surface three times.
"Come in," a voice answered from inside.
Flat and calm, yet carrying an absolute authority that instantly condensed the air around the door.
Yuna pressed the door handle and stepped inside, her head bowed in respect. Her eyes stayed locked on the floor before slowly rising.
Ethan Valen sat behind his late father’s desk. The young man was writing on a parchment scroll with a quill.
His simple black tunic was left undone at the top two buttons, exposing a sliver of his chest. His dark brown hair was slightly disheveled, framing a face illuminated by the candlelight.
"Your warm tea is ready, Young Master," Yuna said softly, her voice catching slightly in her throat.
Ethan only gave a brief nod without looking up. "Hmm. Just leave it there."
Yuna stepped forward, placing the wooden tray on the corner of the desk with extreme care.
Normally, a maid would excuse herself immediately. However, Yuna’s feet felt glued to the floor. Her eyes darted to Ethan, who was still busy scratching away with his pen.
"Young Master..." Yuna spoke up hesitantly, sounding almost like a whisper in the wind. "The villagers... they started planting in the eastern fields today."
The scratch of the quill halted.
Ethan set his pen down, then leaned his broad back against the chair. His calm, dark brown eyes now shifted to look at Yuna.
Feeling his gaze, Yuna hastily continued her sentence so as not to sound presumptuous.
"Spring seems to have arrived early this year. The snow on the southern border has mostly melted, and... the oak tree in the backyard has started to sprout."
"Is that so?" Ethan responded briefly.
His voice wasn’t as freezing as when he faced enemies at Zenithar. His tone was much softer—a rare intonation that only echoed within the walls of this house.
Yuna smiled faintly. Relief seeped into her chest, easing the tension in her neck. She mustered the courage to lift her head.
"Do you... still remember our childhood, Young Master?" Yuna asked, biting her lower lip the second the words slipped out, afraid she had crossed a line.
"Miss Elara used to sit under that oak tree every single afternoon."
Ethan’s eyes narrowed slightly, gazing into a past that felt so far away.
"She often asked about the colors of the flowers, the shapes of the leaves, and just how blue the sky gets in spring," Yuna continued softly, carrying a warm nostalgia.
"She was always curious," Ethan replied in a low voice. "Especially about the things she couldn’t see."
Yuna chuckled—a genuine, heartfelt laugh.
"And you were always so patient answering her questions, Young Master. Even when Miss Elara asked the same things over and over every day, you never once raised your voice."
"There is no reason to be angry at ignorance," Ethan replied flatly, yet there was absolutely no coldness in his words.
𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖
A warm silence slowly descended, enveloping the study. There was only the sound of the night wind rustling softly against the stained glass windows.
Yuna lowered her face deeply. Her brown hair fell over her cheeks, hiding her eyes that were starting to well up with tears.
"You’re... still the same as before, Young Master," Yuna murmured softly, more to herself than him. "Underneath everything that has happened... you are still the exact same person."
Ethan didn’t answer. He simply stared at the girl in silence.
There was no confirmation, nor was there any denial. The man knew exactly what was implied behind Yuna’s words, but he chose to let it hang in the air.
Realizing she had been standing there for far too long, Yuna quickly bowed in respect.
"Excuse me, Young Master. Have a good rest."
"Thank you for the tea, Yuna," Ethan said just as the girl’s hand touched the doorknob.
Yuna froze for a second. That address, that voice—it all struck her chest squarely.
She didn’t look back; she only nodded slowly, then stepped out with a heart that felt incredibly warm yet completely shattered all at once.
Click. The study door closed softly.
Ethan stared at the door for a few seconds, then shifted his gaze to the steaming teacup. He picked up the porcelain cup and took a slow sip.
Perfect. Warm and soothing.
However, that peace didn’t last long.
"Fufufu... that little maid of yours likes you far more deeply than she lets on, My Lord."
Asmodeus’s hoarse, grating voice suddenly crept into his skull without warning, thick with his signature, cunning tease.
Ethan set his cup back down. "I don’t need your analysis on that."
"I’m only stating the facts," Asmodeus chuckled softly, his voice echoing like reverberations from the bottom of an abyss.
"The more hearts that love you, the easier they are to harvest. Isn’t that how this world works? Emotion is the most expensive currency."
"I don’t harvest people who aren’t meant to be harvested," Ethan rejected firmly. His tone radiated an absolute principle.
Asmodeus laughed again.
"Of course. You leave the little maid in her innocence. You shield her from your filthy world. But, My Lord..." The demon’s voice lowered into a provocative whisper.
"Aren’t you worried? The dynamics in this house are getting quite interesting. When you leave tomorrow, the women you’ve gathered here might just start tearing at each other’s throats."
Ethan leaned back, his eyes staring blankly at the row of old books on the shelf.
He knew exactly what Asmodeus meant. Miya, Kaelia, Lilith, and Yuna, who was quietly watching from afar. A spark thrown right into a pile of hay.
"Let them be," Ethan replied flatly. "That’s their business."
"Oh? You aren’t afraid the roof of this house will cave in?"
"As long as they don’t cross the line, let them. If they bite each other, they will learn exactly where they stand."
Asmodeus chuckled softly, thoroughly enjoying his host’s pragmatic side. Slowly, the hoarse voice faded away, sinking back into the darkest corners of Ethan’s soul.
The study fell silent once more. Ethan looked out the window toward the pitch-black yard. The spring wind felt piercingly cold.
Tomorrow, the real journey would begin. He stood up, blew out the candle, and walked toward his room.
Morning arrived sooner than expected in the Valen estate.
Before the village roosters could even crow to break the eastern horizon, the kitchen was already running at full speed.
Berta, the slightly plump cook, was busy shifting pots and pans. Thick white smoke billowed from the roof’s chimney toward the pale blue morning sky.
Clang! Clatter!
The sound of iron pots clashing with wooden spoons resonated with the maid’s footsteps. Yuna moved nimbly, serving breakfast on the long wooden table.
The menu was simple—savory potato soup, toasted wheat bread, and thin slices of smoked meat. Yet, the warm aroma of home hung so heavily in the air.
In the living room, Ethan was already seated, holding his morning cup of tea. He was dressed in travel attire without his heavy cloak.
Beside him, Elara sat leaning softly against her brother’s arm. The fragile girl had her eyes closed, simply enjoying Ethan’s body heat.
Miya Evarett stood behind Elara. Her pointed ears twitched slightly as she leaned down to adjust the wool blanket over Elara’s shoulders.
Miya’s long blonde hair fell forward. She smiled in relief seeing Elara’s breathing looking so steady.
Thud... thud...
The heavy thud of boots drew their attention. Valera emerged from the end of the hall in full black leather armor. Her massive Zweihander was securely strapped to her back.
Her exotic, dark brown-skinned face still bore traces of fatigue, but her golden eyes were as sharp as a hawk’s. Her right arm was still wrapped in black bandages covering the demon’s claw mark.
"My Lord," Valera bowed slightly. "The carriage has been prepared out front. Asrof is double-checking the wheel bearings."
Ethan took a sip of his tea. "How is your condition?"
Valera smirked confidently. She raised her right arm a fraction.
"Tch, this scratch won’t stop me. I’m ready to depart whenever you give the word."
Right as Valera finished her report, Kaelia descended the wooden stairs. The Ashford family daughter was wearing a dark red tunic embroidered with gold threads. She looked elegant, but her movements this morning seemed stiff.
When Kaelia’s gaze fell upon the corner of the room, she locked eyes with Lilith, who was lazily sweeping the floor.
The pink-haired Succubus winked at her, flashing a faint smirk that revealed her fangs. Kaelia quickly looked away, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end, and briskly walked to the dining table.
"Brother Ethan..." Elara called out suddenly, feeling for Ethan’s arm. "Are you leaving today?"
Ethan set his cup down, then stroked the top of Elara’s head. "Tomorrow morning, El. I’m still home today."
A relieved smile instantly bloomed on the blind girl’s pale lips. "Thank goodness... I’m so glad you’re still here."
Across the table, Kaelia pulled out a chair and sat down gracefully. She grabbed a piece of bread, trying to mask her awkwardness.
"Well, if we’re leaving tomorrow, that means I don’t need to rush my packing today," Kaelia said casually.
"You don’t need to pack at all," Ethan cut in flatly, instantly stopping Kaelia mid-chew. "Yuna has already prepared all your clothes and necessities."
Kaelia glared at him. Her golden eyes widened.
"Huh?! Already prepared! I refuse to wear whatever conservative dresses were picked out for me!"
Ethan stared at Kaelia coldly, causing the room’s temperature to plummet instantly.
"You can wear whatever you please, Kaelia."
Kaelia huffed loudly, her cheeks flushing with annoyance. However, she bit her tongue, knowing full well that arguing with Ethan was an exercise in futility.
The morning sun began to climb higher as Ethan stepped into the front yard. The spring air still carried traces of a biting chill.
In the middle of the cobblestone yard, the old carriage inherited from the Valen family stood quietly. Its black paint was fading, and the wood showed signs of past repairs.
But this morning, it looked polished after Asrof had cleaned it. The wooden wheels looked sturdy, and the two horses hitched to the front were blowing white steam from their nostrils.
Seeing Ethan approach, Asrof, who was checking the reins, quickly turned around and bowed respectfully.
"I have replaced the iron axles with new ones, Young Master," Asrof reported in his formal baritone voice.
"The wheel bearings have also been reinforced with double plating. This carriage is ready for a long journey."
Ethan stroked the cold wooden surface of the carriage door. "You’ve taken excellent care of it, Asrof."
"It is my duty and my honor, Young Master."
The sound of low-heeled shoes clicking came from the porch. Kaelia stood there, arms crossed over her chest, staring at the old carriage with deep hesitation.
To a Duke’s daughter accustomed to the Ashford family’s silk-lined, gold-engraved carriages equipped with magical suspension, this wooden carriage looked no different from a cargo wagon.
"Are we... actually going to ride that across the border?" Kaelia asked hesitantly, failing to hide her skeptical tone.
Ethan turned to her coldly. "This is the Valen family carriage. And it is more than enough."
Kaelia swallowed hard, holding back her cynical remark.
"Fine. But if the wooden wheels break in the middle of nowhere and I’m forced to walk through the mud, I’m blaming you, Ethan!"
Ethan wasn’t provoked. "Asrof has ensured that will not happen."
Asrof bowed politely to Kaelia. "I promise to make sure you arrive in the Capital safely and comfortably, My Lady."
Kaelia looked away, her pride too high to acknowledge the old butler’s promise.
By late afternoon, the sky over Valen Village had transformed into a canvas of soft orange hues. The spring breeze blew sluggishly, carrying the scent of damp earth and fresh buds.
In the backyard, under the shade of the giant oak tree, Ethan and Elara sat side by side.
Elara sat on a wool blanket over the grass. Her lap was adorned with white and yellow flowers that Miya had picked for her. Her thin fingers traced the petals with extreme gentleness.
"Brother..." Elara called out softly.
"Yes, El?"
Elara smiled faintly. "I... had another dream last night."
Ethan shifted his sitting position to face Elara. "What was the dream about?"
"I saw this house," Elara answered, beaming.
"In my dream, it was spring. This oak tree we’re sitting under had thick, vibrant green leaves. The front yard was filled with bright flowers."
The girl paused for a moment, her brows furrowing slightly.
"It’s so strange, Brother. I’ve never seen this house in my entire life. My eyes have always been dark. But in that dream, everything was so clear. I could see the color of the stone walls, and the sunlight shining on the grass..."
Ethan stared intently at his sister. "And, were you happy there, El?"
Elara nodded quickly. "So happy. Because you were there too. You were standing under this tree, looking at me, and you were... smiling."
Ethan fell silent. His gaze lifted, staring at the fading orange sky. Deep within his chest, an unspoken promise took firm root.
"Remember that dream well, El," Ethan said, his voice low and deep.
Elara tilted her head. "Why, Brother?"
"Because it will become a reality."
Elara chuckled softly—a crisp laugh that drifted through the evening air. "You’re just saying that."
The wind blew stronger, making the oak leaves whisper. A chill crept back in.
Ethan suddenly said without looking away, "I will be back soon."
Elara wasn’t surprised. Her smile didn’t fade in the slightest. Her small hand reached out, feeling for and grasping Ethan’s sleeve.
"I know, Brother. You will definitely come home. You always come home for me."
Night fell once more, draping over the Valen estate.
In the dim hallway, Ethan stood silently at the threshold of Elara’s slightly opened door. The light from the small fireplace danced through the room’s darkness.
Elara was already fast asleep. A thick wool blanket covered her fragile body. Her breathing was steady, and her face was peaceful.
In the corner of the room near the window, Miya had fallen asleep sitting in a wooden chair, her head resting against the windowsill after watching over Elara all day.
Ethan gazed at his sister for a long time. His dark eyes memorized every detail of Elara’s face.
The young man didn’t know for certain when he would be able to see his sister again. There were so many heads to sever and pawns to arrange before this world was truly safe for Elara.
He stood there far longer than he should have.
Then, the door was closed slowly—as if he didn’t want this night to end.