The Baroness's hand slowly slid from Lucas's cheek, as if the last of her strength had just been drained away. She took a step back, her shoulders finally losing their tension, though her eyes still held the lingering remnants of an emotional storm.

"I will let you live," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "But please... if you must occupy that vessel, change how people see Lucian."

Lucas gave a slow, solemn nod. No words left his lips, only a silent vow etched into his heart. Nearby, Baron Aleric let out a long, heavy sigh. Unlike his emotional wife, Aleric appeared far more composed. His sharp gaze fixed on Lucas with a different intensity now—no longer viewing him as a threat, but as a blank canvas.

Perhaps, the Baron thought, I can teach this boy the things I never had the chance to give the original Lucian.

Ferri'el, the silver horse, drew their attention once more. "That hair... keep it," she said, gesturing to the silver strand around Lucas's neck. "It is now bound to your soul. You can treat it like a soulbound weapon."

She then turned toward the noble couple. "My task is complete. I was merely commanded to prevent the death of this unfortunate soul."

Ferri'el stomped her hoof against the gray floor. Instantly, the sigil of light flared again, tearing open a rift in space that carried the faint scent of an alien meadow. Before stepping through, she looked at the Baroness with a remarkably human expression.

"Farewell, Isabelle," Ferri'el said. This time, she did not address her as 'my Queen.'

Baroness Isabelle let out a soft snort, even as tears still stained her cheeks. "Strange horse. You could have just called me by my name from the start."

Ferri'el laughed softly, a sound like the chime of a harp. "Crybaby, you have grown up now. I hope you are strong enough to face this reality."

Without waiting for a reply, the legendary horse stepped into the portal and vanished in the blink of an eye. As the rift closed, a stifling silence gripped the room. The Baron's gray dome still stood firm, isolating them from the outside world, but the atmosphere within had become painfully awkward.

Silvara, who had remained frozen like a statue throughout the ordeal, still didn't dare to speak. Her mind was a whirlwind of chaos. This situation had become far more complicated than she had ever imagined. She had lied, hidden Lucas's true identity, and was now trapped in the middle of the ruling family's greatest secret.

"I want to go back to the fields," Lucas said, breaking the silence.

Baroness Isabelle flinched in surprise, then a sudden, small laugh escaped her lips. "What a strange boy," she teased, wiping the remaining tears from her cheeks. "You really don't know how to read the room, do you?"

Baron Aleric chimed in, his tone much calmer yet still sharp with scrutiny. "It seems you are indeed a unique man."

Meanwhile, Silvara remained frozen like a statue, unsure of where she stood. Her mind was still reeling from the series of insane events she had just witnessed.

"Dismiss Ferri'el's hair for now," Baron Aleric commanded. "It would be dangerous if anyone else saw you with that face."

Lucas obeyed. He closed his eyes and mentally commanded the silver strand to deactivate. Instantly, his pitch-black hair faded back to brown, and his sharp facial features softened, returning him to the appearance of the Lucian Voss the public knew.

Slowly, the gray dome that had imprisoned them began to crack and crumble into particles of light, vanishing into the air. As the room returned to normal, Lucas looked toward the window and gasped.

"Wait... how is it evening already?" he asked, bewildered. It felt as though they had only been arguing in there for a few minutes.

"Ah..." Baron Aleric replied curtly. "Time inside that space does indeed move much slower than it does outside."

Lucas scratched the back of his head, though there was no itch, then turned to Silvara. "Come on, Silvara. Let's head back to the fields."

He then turned back to the ruling couple. A clear sense of nervousness radiated from his posture as he prepared to take his leave. "Baron... Baroness... I'll be going now."

Without waiting for a further response, Lucas hurried out of the room, desperate to breathe fresh air that wasn't heavy with magical pressure.

Silvara still stood stiffly. Her lips trembled, wanting to say something to make up for her lies. "I... I'm so sor—"

"Follow him, little girl," Baroness Isabelle interrupted, her tone far gentler than before. "Don't let this old woman stand in your way."

Silvara fell silent for a moment, then gave a deeply polite bow. Without another word, she quickly followed Lucas, who had nearly disappeared through the door.

Baron Aleric let out a long, heavy sigh, his voice echoing through the silence of the room that now felt far too vast. He leaned back, staring at the ceiling as if trying to process all the madness that had just unfolded.

"This world... is truly getting stranger by the day," he muttered softly.

He then turned toward his wife. The Baron's sharp gaze had softened, betraying a sense of concern he only ever showed to her. "Do you... truly accept the existence of that soul? The existence of 'Lucas'?"

Baroness Isabelle fell silent for a moment. She looked at her hand—the one that had touched Lucas's cheek, the same hand that had nearly taken his life. Slowly, she nodded.

"Difficult as it may be," she said, her voice trembling yet steady, "I feel that he is different. He is honest in the most ridiculous way."

A faint, bittersweet smile of hope appeared on her face. She then brought her hand down, gently stroking her own stomach with a tender, affectionate motion.

"Perhaps... he can be a good brother" she added softly.

*****

Lucas strolled down the long manor corridor, his footsteps echoing against the cold marble. His head was spinning, trying to wrap itself around the madness that had just gone down.

Man, this is just too absurd, he thought, shaking his head. It's basically on par with that story where a guy wakes up as a cockroach.

But despite the headache, a faint smile tugged at his lips. He felt a massive weight lift off his shoulders. He didn't have to skulk around or play pretend in front of the big bosses anymore. He felt... lighter.

"Wait!!"

Hurried footsteps dashed up behind him. Silvara finally caught up, her breath coming in short huffs.

"How... how are you acting so calm right now?" she asked, her voice thick with disbelief. "I mean, you almost died, a legendary horse showed up, your whole secret is out, and—"

"And what do you want me to do?" Lucas cut her off, sounding more exhausted than actually annoyed. "Should I roll around on the floor and cry? Drop it. The point is, I'm still breathing."

Lucas let out a long sigh, then glanced at Silvara out of the corner of his eye. "But... hey, thanks for back there."

Silvara's face instantly went stiff.

"T-that was just a reflex!" She began to ramble.

Lucas, already dizzy and nursing the dull aches from his duel and his morning shift in the fields, just stared at her with a deadpan look. He watched Silvara's nose twitching as she rambled on—she looked exactly like a mute button just waiting to be pushed.

Without a word, Lucas reached out and poked the tip of her nose.

"Beep. Call ended."

He turned on his heel and walked away.

Silvara went dead silent. She stood frozen in the middle of the hallway, her words dying in her throat. The sudden quiet was heavy, but slowly, her face flared a bright, burning red all the way to her ears.

She raised her hand, rubbing her nose where he'd poked it, as if trying to wipe off the sensation. Instead of getting mad, a weird little grin crept onto her face as she watched Lucas walk away.

****

Liona appeared out of nowhere just as Lucas stepped out, her short stature making her look like a blur as she cut him off.

"Young Master! How did it go?" she asked, her eyes wide and blinking rapidly as if sending some sort of secret code.

Lucas stared down at her, a bit baffled. What's up with her? Since when did she become such a cheerful kid? He let out a weary sigh and gestured over his shoulder. "Ask the silver-head behind me. We're heading back to the fields."

Liona's face lit up instantly. "Yeah!" she cheered. It made sense—she lived for driving the carriage and had a borderline obsession with horses. For her, "back to the fields" meant getting back behind the reins.

But as Lucas made his way toward the exit, his path was blocked once again. A young knight with jet-black hair stood waiting, his posture as rigid as a board. As soon as he spotted Lucas, he offered a sharp, disciplined bow.

"Young Master, my apologies for the intrusion. May I have a moment of your time?"

Lucas narrowed his eyes, searching his memory. He recognized that face. This was the knight who had arrived with Matruska a while back. He stood out even then, carrying a calm yet piercing presence.

The knight straightened up and introduced himself in a steady, low voice. "My name is Karska Grimhelt. There is something I wish to discuss with you in private."

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