It took a full day to reach the continent of Zeraldia.

Fortunately, someone was already waiting for Leon at the capital city's terminal in Thymera, saving him the hassle of navigating an unfamiliar city.

The man introduced himself as Harold. He was a sharply dressed butler sent specifically to guide Leon to the Armathorne Dukedom.

Leon gave a brief nod and followed without a word. Carrying his suitcase, he kept pace as Harold led him past the crowded train platforms toward a massive, private teleportation portal located in a restricted section just beside the station.

Harold pulled a small, glittering token from his vest pocket and slid it into a slot along the side of the stone archway. It was the activation key.

Leon’s eyes lingered on the object for a fraction of a second.

A ruby.

Teleportation tokens were strictly categorized, and gemstone-grade keys were incredibly rare.

A ruby token meant a highly secure and private circle that was entirely single-use and strictly monitored.

Leon had only ever seen them back during his previous lives when he was closely acquainted with the Saintess.

Given the extreme secrecy surrounding the Armathorne family, it made perfect sense. A high-tier token like that wouldn’t just open the gateway, but also instantly erase any magical trace of their passage the moment they stepped through.

After a few seconds, the stone slot emitted a faint, deep red glow as the portal accepted the key. Harold stepped inside the shimmering veil first, and Leon followed him without hesitation.

The transition was instantaneous.

The roaring noise and frantic movement of the capital station vanished, replaced by silence.

However, they were not inside the estate yet.

They had materialized inside a heavy stone outpost that served as the primary checkpoint for the duchy.

Before them stood a long stone counter, backed by a dozen silver-armored guards who immediately surrounded the arched boundary.

At the center stood a stern official wearing a white robe embroidered with holy symbols, holding a glowing crystal orb.

"We must conduct the mandatory inspection before entering the estate grounds, Young Master Leon," Harold explained smoothly, stepping to the side. "Due to recent border incidents, His Grace requires all external personnel to be thoroughly vetted."

‘Right, the inspection stated in the letter…’

Leon thought, as he calmly stepped forward and placed his suitcase and sheathed sword onto the stone counter.

The official picked up the sword, inspecting the hilt and blade for hidden seals or poison, before passing it over a small magical grid. It hummed softly, showing no malicious intent.

Next, the official gestured for Leon to place his hand on the crystal orb.

"Channel your energy into the glass," the official instructed.

Leon complied, letting his raw life force flow outward. The orb flared with a brilliant, pure silver light— the unmistakable signature of pure and uncorrupted Aura.

The official watched the silver light closely, checking for any trace of dark magic or demonic residue. Finding nothing, the man pulled his hand back and gave a crisp nod to the guards.

"Vetting complete. He is clean," the official announced.

The silver-armored guards stepped back into formation, returning Leon's weapon and luggage. Leon picked them up, entirely unbothered by the security theater.

In fact, he found it ironic. They were checking him for corruption, completely blind to the fact that the real source of dark energy was already sitting deep inside their own master's house.

Harold smiled politely.

"Thank you for your cooperation. Follow me."

They walked out of the stone checkpoint and finally stepped onto the main grounds.

Before him stood a pair of massive golden gates, towering so high they easily dwarfed the surrounding walls. The metallic surface gleamed under the sunlight, covered in elaborate patterns. On either side of the entrance, two gold-armored guards stood, completely motionless.

Harold spoke a few quiet words to them. The guards responded instantly, gripping the handles and pushing the heavy gates open.

Beyond them stretched a long and immaculate stone pathway.

Leon’s eyes widened slightly, if only for a brief moment, before his face settled back into its usual calm expression.

"Extravagant" didn’t quite capture the scale of it.

If anything, it was too mild a word for something designed specifically to overwhelm.

High above the path, phoenixes—the symbolic birds of the dukedom—circled in the sky or perched atop rows of giant warrior statues lining the road.

Bright red flowers grew in thick, manicured clusters along the borders.

In the distance, across an open training field, dozens of children wearing identical red shirts were practicing sword drills, their movements sharp and disciplined.

And at the dead center of it all stood the primary Armathorne estate. It was a massive, imposing fortress of stone that anchored the entire grounds around it.

“This…”

Harold stopped and bowed gracefully.

“Welcome to the Armathorne House, Young Master Leon.”

‘Finally…’

Leon thought, as he looked around.

He was finally here.

“Allow me to lead you to the guest house first,” Harold said politely. “You have traveled a long journey.”

Leon gave a small nod.

Harold turned on his heel and led him down a paved path that curved behind the main building. The guest house soon came into view. It sat apart from the main residence, though it remained well within the estate's heavily guarded perimeter. It shared the same fortress-like design, just on a much smaller scale.

They stepped inside the foyer. The interior was impeccably clean and well-kept, furnished with everything necessary for a comfortable stay.

Harold came to a stop near the door and faced him.

“You will be summoned by His Grace shortly,” the butler explained. “Until then, please take this time to rest, Young Master Leon.”

Leon nodded once more. Harold gave a final bow before turning to leave, closing the heavy wooden door softly behind him.

Silence immediately settled over the room.

Leon stood in place for a few seconds, then let out a long breath and dropped his heavy suitcase by the closet.

He walked over to the bed and collapsed onto the mattress.

‘Soft…’

Leon crossed his arms behind his head and stared blankly at the glass chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

Just from a sheer scale perspective, this dukedom was vastly superior to the Serpentine estate.

He couldn't remember the visual of this place from the game anymore, but since this was his very first time seeing it in reality, it was an incredibly solid fortress.

‘As expected of a prestigious dukedom with plot relevance tied to villainess...’

It had to be this grand.

Although it was too bad this place would be destroyed at the hands of the prodigal daughter soon enough, Leon was happy to see it before that happened.

“....”

Leon shook his head.

He really needed to stop being so pessimistic this early in the morning.

Since it looked like he wouldn't be called for a while, he decided to take his time resting.

He would have to get down to business soon enough anyway.

With those thoughts, Leon closed his eyes and quickly drifted off to catch up on the sleep he had missed while sitting on the train.

◈—◈—◈—◈—◈

Knock, knock.

The sound at the door came just as Leon finished adjusting his cuffs.

“Come in,” he called out.

The door swung open, and a young maid stepped into the room. Her posture was straight and her hands were folded neatly in front of her apron. She offered a respectful bow.

“Young Master Leon, His Grace is ready to receive you.”

Leon nodded, grabbing his dark trench coat from the back of the chair and sliding it on.

“Lead the way.”

The walk back to the main estate felt significantly longer this time. It wasn't because of the actual physical distance, but because Leon was paying closer attention to the details.

Servants moved through the grand corridors in a organized pattern. There was not a single one idling or speaking out of turn. Elite guards stood in fixed positions near every major doorway, their eyes sharp and their stances perfectly disciplined.

Even the ambient atmosphere felt controlled, as if every stray sound had its place and anything unnecessary had been removed.

They entered through the towering front doors of the main manor. The difference between the guest house and the central estate became even clearer.

The interior was stunningly grand and featured high vaulted ceilings, polished marble floors, and massive stone walls covered in historical paintings meant to tell the story of the family's glorious lineage.

Yet, none of it felt excessive or tacky.

The maid led him through a series of long, soundless corridors before finally stopping in front of a pair of large wooden doors.

Two heavily armed guards flanked the entrance.

She turned slightly and bowed.

“His Grace is inside.”

Leon gave a short nod, as the guards immediately pushed the heavy doors open.

The office was massive.

Not just in size, but it was designed in a way that forced a visitor’s attention directly forward.

The long space stretched out, drawing the eye toward the far end of the room where a heavy oak desk stood beneath tall, arched windows that flooded the room with natural light.

Behind that desk sat a lone man.

And standing beside him, as expected, was Harold.

The moment Leon stepped inside, he felt it.

The presence.

The presence of the man wasn’t being actively released, but he didn't need to.

It was incredibly dense, refined, and completely under control.

It was the kind of presence that didn't need to actively dominate the room to make it absolutely clear who was in charge.

‘The Fifth Holy Swordsmaster of the Lesselhia Empire…’

Duke Zorack Armathorne.

The Duke looked up from his paperwork, his gaze locking onto Leon’s without a single second of delay.

His dark-green eyes stared right through Leon as he sat perfectly straight behind his desk.

Leon had never actually met him face-to-face in any of his previous hundred lives.

It was a strange realization, even for him.

Since the members of House Armathorne rarely left their peninsula except for major military campaigns, Leon had expected to see the Duke during the Great War at least once.

However, in every previous loop, Seraphina’s demonic awakening always managed to completely slaughter her entire family long before the war even officially began.

“Come forward.”

The Duke’s deep voice reverberated faintly against the room.

Leon walked toward him, the sound of his boots echoing across the floor. When he reached the desk, he came to a stop at a respectful distance.

The Duke gestured toward the empty leather chair opposite him.

“Sit.”

Leon took a seat.

Harold stepped forward without needing to be told, smoothly placing a steaming cup of tea on the table right before him.

“I hope you care for tea,” the Duke said.

Leon gave a small nod.

“Yes. Thank you.”

He picked up the cup, took a short sip, and set it back down.

The warmth settled into his chest quickly, but he didn't let the comfort distract him.

The Duke leaned back slightly in his high-backed chair, his green eyes never leaving Leon's face.

“I will not waste my time, so I will get straight to the point,” the Duke stated coldly. “You officially rejected my escort request once.”

He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Yet, you sent a secondary offer.”

A short pause followed.

“Why?”

Leon had fully expected that question.

It was a reasonable thing to ask, and he had prepared his answers long before boarding the train.

This wasn't the modern world where businesses could send revised offers back and forth without social consequences.

In high noble circles, a formal refusal usually closed a matter permanently.

Sending a re-offer after turning a Duke down could easily be interpreted as wild inconsistency at best, or sheer desperation at worst.

The Duke’s suspicion made perfect sense.

“On the surface, a re-offer doesn't look like much,” Zorack continued. “But I was quite surprised to see that the Young Master of House Serpentine chose to follow through with it personally.”

He tilted his head, studying Leon's calm expression.

“It is a minor contract from my perspective. Not something that should warrant a second thought from a house of your standing. Which makes it look like there is far more to your visit than a simple escort job.”

His gaze sharpened to a razor edge.

“What is it?”

He pressed.

“The real reason you are here.”