Two days passed quickly.
The journey to the Dukedom was quiet—uneventful, yet heavy with tension.
The carriage stopped only to rest and nowhere else.
"It's such a pain to travel in this," Akamir muttered, stretching as the wheels finally slowed.
They were passing through the city gates of Edevane, the heart of the Vyavan Dukedom.
The city was bustling, but the people paused to glance at the ornate carriage with the Duke's crest, whispering among themselves.
Some recognized Akamir.
...And none seemed pleased to see him.
'Of course, they won't.'
The name "Asher" wasn't one the public held in high regard, and now, that name sat attached to the heir of the Dukedom.
'I need to do something about my public image.'
It's always better to have a good image in case you need to influence people.
And Akamir was well aware of how the opinion of the masses can affect the outcome.
The carriage didn't stop in the city center. It went straight for the estate.
As they rolled through the gates, Akamir noticed the guards.
They didn't wear his family's crest but a different one.
Polama Dukedom.
'What are they doing here?'
Akamir wondered, ahead, three other carriages with the same crest were parked in the courtyard.
Akamir leaned back in his seat, watching as the carriage came to a halt.
Before he could even reach for the door, it opened.
A steward in deep green robes stood there, posture stiff and formal.
Veres.
"Young Master Asher," he said with a bow. "The Duke is waiting."
Akamir walked out of the carriage as he looked around.
Nayomi floated just beside him as she curiously looked around as well.
There were a lot more knights in the place than they had expected.
Zia joined him, her footsteps silent. "Do you want me to come with you?"
Akamir shook his head. "No. Please return to the quarters."
She gave him a small nod before stepping back.
Akamir followed Veres through the halls.
"What is happening?" Akamir asked, looking at the back of Veres.
"Duke Vareon of Polama is here," Veres said, glancing back at him. "He came for a meeting."
"Meeting for what?" Akamir asked, frowning.
Veres hesitated as if debating whether to tell him the truth or not, and after a while, he sighed.
"Apparently, he is going to try to conquer one of the seven core dungeons," Veres replied, taking Akamir by surprise.
"Is he out of his mind—?"
"Please be mindful of your words, young master," Veres said, looking around concernedly. "And no. The church is helping him this time."
"...."
Akamir fell into deep thought.
As far as he knew...
When the group of students was summoned six hundred years ago, there were thousands of dungeons in this world.
But those students were able to clear up all of them and seal them.
But seven could not be sealed.
The Core Dungeons.
Each was rooted so deep in the fabric of this world that even the summoned heroes blessed with divine authority could not fully purge them.
Instead, they created wards, mechanisms that locked the dungeons behind layers.
The world called them "untouchable dungeons," and for good reason.
Akamir frowned, muttering, "Would he even survive it?"
"He won't," Nayomi said plainly. "He'll die in the raid."
'...I see.'
The hallway opened into the inner chambers of the estate.
Akamir glanced back at the steward. "But what is he doing here?"
Veres offered no answer this time—just another tight-lipped bow as they reached the door to the hall room.
"Good luck, Young Master."
Akamir narrowed his eyes.
He hated that word.
Luck.
He adjusted his coat and stepped through the doors.
Akamir adjusted his coat, exhaled, and knocked.
The doors opened with a slow groan.
A servant bowed and stepped aside, revealing a spacious hall.
A long table sat at its center, yet only a handful of people occupied the room.
At the head sat Duke Darvin Vyavan, Asher's father, dressed in his usual stark-black formal wear.
To his opposite, a man stood with his back partially turned, mid-conversation.
Broad-shouldered, his golden-red cloak bore the unmistakable crest of Polama.
Duke Vareon of Polama.
Two more people sat on the sofa. A young boy and a girl the same age as him.
'Twins?'
Vareon turned as Akamir entered, revealing a strong jawline and sharp hazel eyes beneath a neatly trimmed beard.
He sized Akamir up in a glance that was both appraising and dismissive.
"Ah, the infamous Asher," he said with a thin smile. "You took your time."
Akamir didn't flinch. "Didn't know I was expected to be early to a meeting I wasn't told about."
Darvin shot him a glance. "Watch your tone."
Akamir ignored him.
His eyes drifted to the two on the sofa.
The boy sat comfortably, dressed in a polished uniform, while the girl sat with her legs crossed and arms folded, her posture relaxed but alert.
Their matching dark-green hair and amber eyes made the resemblance clear.
Definitely twins.
Darvin gestured to a seat beside him. "Sit down."
Akamir approached slowly, taking his seat beside him.
Vareon took his seat again, lounging with ease. "Alright, enough playing around Darvin. Your excuse of a son is here now."
Akamir stared at the bulky man.
"Don't get me wrong, boy," Vareon chuckled. "It's just your father making excuses for the last two days saying he won't answer unless my son is back."
"...I see."
Akamir just gave him a short nod.
'So he was using me as a way to have time to think?'
He wondered, glancing back at his father.
Vareon leaned forward. "Now, let's talk. Are you lending me your army or not?"
"..."
Darvin remained silent as if deep in thought.
"You don't need to think that hard," Vareon said, almost laughing. "This is your chance to elevate your failing House."
Akamir's fingers tapped once against the table.
He was quiet, but his gaze remained steady on Vareon.
The man was overconfident—that much was clear. But that didn't make him wrong.
The Vyavan Dukedom was in decline after Morris's death.
And now with Inara being betrothed to a different kingdom...
'Vyavan family had lost their chance to win a favorable place.'
The next king is going to suppress them, Akamir was sure of it.
Unless what Nayomi said was true.
Then the Vyavan family would face extinction.
'...Still, to gamble the entire army on a suicidal dungeon raid?'
Darvin finally spoke. "Vareon. This isn't about elevating our family. This is about dragging it into your madness."
Vareon exhaled slowly. "So that's your answer?"
"No," Darvin said, his voice calm. "If you want soldiers from the Vyavan Dukedom, we negotiate proper terms."
Vareon snorted. "Terms? You're in no position to bargain, Darvin. If anything, I'm being generous."
'So, he's here to rob the Vyavan Dukedom under the guise of an alliance.'
"That's not generosity. That's coercion," Darvin said, shaking his head. "Please leave my Dukedom."
"What a coward," For the first time, the girl—Lyselle muttered.
Darvin's cold eyes flicked to her. "Watch your tone."
"Why should she?" Vareon said, patting her head. "She's not wrong."
The boy smirked from his place on the couch, finally joining in.
"You know, Father," he said lazily, "I heard Duke Vyavan once led the strongest border force in the south. But now? He can't even give a straight answer."
Akamir's gaze flicked to the boy—Kieran, if he remembered correctly.
His posture was relaxed, and the way he spoke was like someone used to picking fights from the safety.
Darvin said nothing, but his fingers curled slightly atop the table.
'Why is he not speaking up?'
Akamir wondered, staring at Darvin.
No matter what the reason, why would he let some kid talk to him like that?
"The church." It was Nayomi who spoke, looking at him. "They are backing them aggressively, and speaking now would be going against them."
'...I hate politics.'
Akamir let out a tired sigh, and Kieran noticed it.
"Too scared, Asher?" Kieran sneered. "Or maybe you've forgotten your last beating?"
Akamir tilted his head. "Who the fuck are you?"
Kieran's smirk faltered for a split second.
"What did you say?"
Akamir leaned back in his chair, his tone colder now. "I asked who the fuck you are. You speak like you've done something instead of being just a background noise."
Lyselle shifted forward, glaring. "You're awfully cocky for someone with your reputation."
"And you're awfully loud for someone who hasn't earned the right to speak," Akamir replied, his gaze cutting.
"If your father wasn't here, would anyone care what you had to say?"
A slow chuckle rumbled from Vareon's chest. "Well, well. You've got a spine after all."
Akamir looked at him.
Vareon stood up. "Why don't we settle it down like old times, Darvin."
Darvin frowned. "What do you mean?"
"A duel."
Vareon grinned.
"My son against yours."