Chapter 10: The Weight of Expectation
The morning began with laughter — an uncommon sound in the Black Bulls' base.
Asta and Magna were locked in an arm-wrestling match that had somehow escalated into an explosion contest, while Charmy sat nearby, cheering them on between bites of pancakes.
Lucien sipped tea quietly at the corner table, watching the chaos unfold with the faintest trace of a smile.
It was loud, messy, and utterly unrefined.
But for him, it was home.
Then Finral appeared in a swirl of spatial magic, a sealed envelope in his hand. "Special delivery!" he announced dramatically. "Straight from the Royal Palace."
The laughter stopped.
Lucien looked up. "For me?"
Finral nodded, handing it over. "Yeah — your name's written in that fancy noble calligraphy. Definitely Silva business."
The air in the room shifted.
Noelle frowned. "Lucien… are you sure you want to open that?"
Lucien turned the letter in his hand. The wax seal bore the crest of House Silva — a silver swan on a field of blue. Familiar. Heavy.
He broke the seal.
I. Shadows of the Past
The letter was short and precise, every stroke immaculate.
To Lucian Silva,
You are hereby requested to attend the upcoming Royal Gathering of Noble Houses as a representative of the Silva family. Your recent acceptance into the Black Bulls has drawn attention from the court. Our house cannot afford further embarrassment. Present yourself accordingly.
— Solid Silva, Acting Spokesman of House Silva.
Lucien read it twice before lowering it slowly.
The room was silent.
Asta tilted his head. "So… they just want you to show up?"
"'Requested' means 'ordered,'" Noelle said softly, arms crossed. "They're summoning him to make sure he doesn't tarnish their name."
Magna frowned. "Sounds like a bunch of uptight nobles trying to act important."
Lucien said nothing. He folded the letter neatly and slipped it into his pocket.
"Guess I'll need to visit the capital sooner than expected."
Yami's voice came from the doorway, low and calm. "You gonna run from your ghosts or face them, kid?"
Lucien met his captain's gaze. "I'll face them. But not for them — for myself."
Yami smirked faintly. "Good answer."
II. A Scar Called Family
That evening, Lucien stood in front of the cracked mirror in his quarters, adjusting the formal robe he hadn't worn in years. Its silver embroidery glimmered faintly in the lamplight.
He looked every bit the noble he once tried to be.
And yet, the reflection felt… hollow.
A soft knock came at the door.
It was Noelle. She looked awkwardly composed, holding a folded cloak in her hands. "You'll need this," she said, offering it. "Black Bulls colors."
He took it gently. "You're giving me your cloak?"
"It's an extra," she said quickly, looking away. "Just… wear it over that robe. Let them remember you're one of us now."
Lucien smiled faintly. "Thank you, Noelle."
She nodded once, then paused. "Don't let them decide who you are again."
Her words lingered long after she left.
III. Return to the Palace
The royal palace stood just as he remembered — pristine, imposing, and cold. Marble walls gleamed like ice; magic wards shimmered faintly in the air.
Lucien walked the familiar halls, each step echoing with memories he'd rather forget.
Whispers followed him.
"The failed Silva."
"The one with strange magic."
"He joined them, of all squads?"
He ignored them.
The grand hall opened before him, filled with nobles in silken attire. At the center stood his siblings — Nebra, Solid, and Nozel.
Nebra smirked faintly. "Well, well. The lost swan returns."
Solid sneered. "I didn't think Yami would let you off his leash long enough to show your face here."
Lucien's tone remained calm. "You summoned me. I came."
Nozel, the eldest, regarded him quietly, unreadable. "The family name must remain untarnished," he said simply. "Whatever you've chosen to do with your life… remember, you are still a Silva."
Lucien's silver eyes hardened. "Then perhaps the Silvas should remember what that name is supposed to mean."
A ripple of discomfort spread through the crowd.
Before anyone could respond, a deep voice echoed through the hall.
"Now this is interesting," Julius Novachrono said as he entered, his cloak flowing behind him. "I didn't expect to see two Silvas from opposite worlds standing together today."
All bowed instantly — except Lucien.
The Wizard King smiled faintly at him. "I trust the Black Bulls are treating you well?"
Lucien nodded. "Better than I expected, Your Majesty."
"Good," Julius said warmly. "Then perhaps the nobles could learn from them."
Several gasps followed, and Julius simply smiled, amused by the tension he'd caused.
IV. The Unbroken Thread
Later, as the gathering dispersed, Nozel approached Lucien quietly.
"You've grown," he said, his voice softer now. "That magic of yours… I couldn't read it before. Now it feels calm. Whole."
Lucien looked at him steadily. "Because I stopped fighting what I am."
Nozel's eyes lingered for a moment — pride hidden beneath restraint. "Then perhaps you've found something the rest of us haven't."
It was the closest thing to approval Lucien had ever heard from his brother.
He nodded once. "Goodbye, Nozel."
Nozel returned the gesture. "Until next time, Lucian."
V. The Family He Chose
Night had fallen by the time Lucien returned to the Black Bulls' base.
The door burst open before he could knock.
"LUCI!" Asta shouted, grinning. "We saved you dinner! Charmy only ate half this time!"
Charmy frowned. "You weren't supposed to tell him that!"
Lucien laughed quietly, the tension melting from his shoulders. "It's fine, I'm not picky."
Noelle crossed her arms. "So? How was it?"
Lucien looked around at their expectant faces — chaotic, loud, and genuine.
"It reminded me," he said softly, "that family isn't about blood. It's about who stands with you when you have nothing left."
Asta blinked. "That's deep, Luci."
Yami, from his corner, grunted approvingly. "You're learning."
Lucien smiled faintly. "Maybe I finally am."