「JAVIER CASTLE」
[PARTY MAP NOTIFICATION: USERS MARCUS, KAELEN, RHYS. PROXIMITY ALERT. DISTANCE: 200 METERS AND CLOSING.]
The blue ping in the corner of Lia's vision pulled her focus from the silver wolf's labored breathing. The physician was working, but Lia's entire world narrowed to that pulsing marker on her mini-map.
They're here.
[ADMIN A: THOSE THREE IDIOTS ARE NOW HERE, LIA!]
I KNOW. I HAVE EYES.
Eliana turned to Cris, who was biting his handkerchief in fear that the wolf would wake up and devour them. "Hey. Give it a rest," Lia said. "Go outside and accommodate my brothers."
Cris paused and looked at her with confusion. "P-pardon?"
"You heard me. Why are you pretending to be deaf?" Lia's voice was flat. "I said, my brothers are here."
"WHAAAAT?!!" Cris exclaimed, then bolted from the room and hurried downstairs.
I can't believe Her Grace. I don't even know what to say anymore!! Cris thought as he rushed down the steps.
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏
-COURTYARD-
Cris skidded to a halt in the main courtyard, his breath pluming in the frigid air. The sight before him stole what little was left of his composure.
Five massive, heavy-laden wagons were crammed into the space, their southern designs and sturdy canvas covers looking utterly alien against the grey stone and perpetual frost. But it was the men that held his gaze.
Three of them sat on horseback like they owned the very air around them—which, Cris supposed with a dizzying lurch, they technically did. They weren't dressed in the flamboyant silks of capital nobility. Their clothes were dark, practical wool and leather, worn from travel but of unmistakable quality, cut for movement, not courtly posturing.
Commander Gareth stood a few paces away, his face a masterpiece of profound confusion. He looked like a man who had called for a single medic and received an entire, heavily-armed surgical battalion.
The brothers weren't looking at Gareth, or at Cris. Their attention was fixed on the castle itself, their faces unreadable masks in the pale light. The eldest, Marcus, gazed up at the battlements with the hollow-eyed focus of a general surveying a battlefield he'd already lost once. His expression wasn't triumphant or curious; it was the grim, settled look of a man tallying a debt he could never fully repay.
It was Kaelen who moved first.
With a fluid, powerful motion, he dismounted, his boots hitting the frozen cobblestones with a solid thud that echoed in the quiet courtyard. He didn't bother handing off his reins. He simply dropped them, his entire being radiating a restless, predatory energy as his head swiveled, scanning every window, every archway, every shadow.
"Where is she?" His voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the cold air like a knife—a demand, not a question, directed at the universe itself. The casual, lethal authority in it made the nearby stable hands shrink back.
Cris found his voice, though it came out as a squeak. "Y-Your Lordships! Welcome to—"
Kaelen's head snapped toward him. His eyes, a sharper, stormier version of Eliana's blue, pinned Cris in place. "You. Where's my sister?"
"I—Her Grace is inside, she—"
Before Cris could finish, Marcus finally looked away from the castle, his gaze sweeping over the wagons and the gathering, thin crowd of soldiers and servants. His voice, when he spoke, was quieter than Kaelen's, but it carried the weight of finality.
"Unload the wagons. Start with the grain and the medical supplies." He didn't raise his voice; he simply expected to be obeyed. Commander Gareth stiffened, his body instinctively responding to the direct address from the man who had, until yesterday, been his ultimate superior in the imperial chain of command.
"You just got here and you're already giving orders?" Eliana's voice, dry and sharp as a shard of ice, cut through the tense silence.
All three brothers turned as one.
She stood in the castle's main doorway, a silhouette against the gloom within. No ball gown. Just the stark black tactical gear, the white winter coat hanging open, and an expression of profound, weary annoyance. Her blonde hair was tied in a messy knot, and her eyes were the cold, assessing blue of a sniper scanning a kill zone.
For a heartbeat, there was absolute stillness. Two lifetimes of guilt, death, and silence hung in the air between them.
Then, the dam broke.
Rhys was the first to move, dismounting with an engineer's clumsy grace. Kaelen was a half-step behind, a blur of motion. They converged on her in a chaotic, desperate rush.
"MY DEAREST SISTER!" Kaelen bellowed, his attempt at a crushing bear hug cut short as Lia's palm met his face with a solid smack, shoving him back.
"IWW, GROSS! BACK OFF!!" she snarled, her nose wrinkled in genuine disgust.
Undeterred, Rhys yanked Kaelen aside and swept in for his own hug, a charming, lopsided grin on his face. "I know it's my hug you really wanted, Lia."
"YOU'RE GROSS TOO! STEP BACK OR I'LL PUT A HOLE IN YOU!" She wedged an elbow against his chest, holding him at bay.
Cris's jaw hung open. Commander Gareth looked as if he'd been struck by a tranquilizer dart. The gathered soldiers and servants simply stared, their worldviews quietly shattering.
Finally, Marcus dismounted. He adjusted his spectacles, a habit so familiar it was a touchstone in the chaos. He cleared his throat, the sound somehow managing to call the scene to order. The very air around him seemed to still, as if waiting for his analysis.
"Lia," he said, his voice calm, deep, and strangely resonant. For a brief, absurd moment, a faint, shimmering aura seemed to flicker around him—a trick of the pale light, perhaps.
It was Kaelen who shattered the moment. He turned from the scowling Lia to his eldest brother, his expression one of pure, unvarnished incredulity.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Kaelen said, the words exploded into the courtyard, vulgar, shocking, and utterly at odds with the noble legend of the Imperial Strategist.
A collective gasp rippled through the onlookers.
"Yeah, what's with that… cheap lighting effect?" Rhys chimed in, peering at Marcus as if he were a malfunctioning device. "Did you practice that in the mirror?"
A new, chittering voice piped up in their shared mental space.
[ADMIN B: IT WAS ME! HE ASKED FOR A 'HEROIC ENTRANCE VFX.' HEHE. WANTED TO LOOK LIKE YOUR SAVIOR. I EVEN ADDED A SLOW-MOTION HAIR FLOW EFFECT! YOU'RE WELCOME!]
[ADMIN A: HE REALLY ASKED FOR THAT? THAT'S… EMBARRASSING.]
The reaction from the three younger siblings was instantaneous and perfectly synchronized.
"IT'S DISGUSTING," they said in unison, their voices layered with identical contempt.
Marcus's composure cracked. A vein throbbed near his temple. "How dare you disrespect me?" he hissed, the icy commander replaced by a deeply irritated older brother.
Kaelen ignored him, turning back to Lia with a smile that didn't reach his anxious eyes. "Why don't we go inside and talk? Seems like we're causing a scene." He gestured vaguely at the shell-shocked audience.
"Yeah," Lia muttered, shooting a final glare at Marcus. "I think I'm breathing in some bad air out here."
"Let's go," Rhys said, already ushering her back through the doorway with a protective arm that she immediately shrugged off.
Marcus watched them go, his earlier, carefully curated aura completely gone, replaced by the grumpy posture of a man whose dramatic moment had been thoroughly stolen. With a sigh that fogged in the cold air, he followed them inside, the very picture of ruffled dignity.
Cris and Gareth stood frozen for another long moment, the echoing silence of the courtyard broken only by the creak of wagon wheels and the confused muttering of the crowd. They shared a single, bewildered look.
What in the Sun's holy name… was that?
Finally, Gareth shook himself, his soldier's instincts reasserting themselves. "You heard Lord Marcus!" he barked at the stunned soldiers, his voice rougher than usual. "Unload those wagons! Now! And for pity's sake, be careful with the supplies!"
As the courtyard burst into frantic activity, Cris trailed numbly after the siblings, his mind awhirl with one overwhelming thought: The legends were wrong. The Javier brothers weren't noble paragons…
They were, quite clearly, completely and utterly kind of insane.
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏
-DRAWING ROOM-
Commander Gareth, Cris, Merlin, and the butler, Willy—who had just come back from looking for additional supplies in the opposite town from the other territory—stood in front of three figures sitting on the couch.
"Uhmm. So, you're saying their Lordships will also stay here, Your Grace?" Gareth asked.
"That's right," Lia answered, sitting on the chair near the furnace.
"But, don't their Lordships have significant duties back in the capital?" Gareth pressed.
"Ah, about that, don't worry. It's settled," Kaelen said, smiling.
"Ah! Their Lordships must have taken a vacation!" Cris chimed in, as if it was the obvious answer.
"No, we're not. We resigned," Rhys said with an unfazed expression.
The four dropped their jaws in shock.
W-what a-are t-they saying? Gareth thought.
R-resign? Aren't they important figures? Willy wondered.
ARE THEY CRAZY?! Cris screamed internally.
Those were the thoughts of their people, faced with the siblings' utterly unbothered faces.
"I know this is sudden. But we don't plan to make another mistake," Marcus began. "I understand your expressions… we indeed held important duties in the Capital. But we also have a duty here, and the North is more important. This may sound hypocritical after turning a blind eye for years. But we are here to pay for our sins of neglect and to revive the North." Marcus fixed his glasses. "We will not ask for forgiveness, but we will ask for a chance. Just one last chance." His words had weight. That's right. This is our last chance. "We will prove to you that we can make the North right and prosperous again."
The servants' faces looked sad, pained, and held a hint of resentment.
They had suffered for years, abandoned, starved. They had lost many important people in their lives.
"You are free to use my life however you see fit, Lordships." Gareth then kneeled. "My loyalty and life always lie in the hands of the Javiers."
The rest also knelt. "We will always follow your commands," they said.
The siblings looked at each other and nodded.
"Thank you. Please stand," Marcus said. "Then, we should start." He stood up.
"Commander Gareth, you will fall under Kaelen's command. Together with him, you will stabilize the knights. Rhys, the repair of the fortress walls and the town's needs will fall under you, along with financial matters. And Cris, along with the whole household staff, will fall under me and Eliana."
"Yes, Lord Marcus," the four servants answered in unison.
"Now, here's the first order. Kaelen's team gathers and assesses the current soldiers. Rhys, proceed in locating which structures need emergent repair. Eliana and I will handle the people's needs and goods distribution," Marcus commanded.
"Yes, Lord—"
"WAIT! WHY DO YOU KEEP HOGGING ELIANA, HUH?" Kaelen said to Marcus, acting like a delinquent.
"That's right, Eliana should help me," Rhys added.
"Eliana is the reinstated Duchess of this land. Of course, I should assist her," Marcus retorted.
"Ha! Are you forgetting something? Eliana and I are in the same field," Kaelen shot back.
"Shut up. And do what's needed for now," Eliana stepped in. "Stop acting like teenagers. Jeez, you guys are in your 20s already. Get a life."
"Hey, I am still young," Kaelen protested.
"My age is considered young back in our world," Marcus said.
"Shut up. You're past the calendar," Kaelen barked, referencing Marcus's real age back on Earth.
Marcus glared at Kaelen like a pissed older brother, with Rhys standing between them, cheering them on and fueling the fire.
Eliana looked exhausted by this scenario, one she had often seen back in their younger days on Earth.
[ADMIN A: THERE'S ALWAYS TENSION BETWEEN THOSE TWO, EVEN BACK ON EARTH.]
[ADMIN B: I REMEMBER KAELEN CRUSHING MARCUS'S NEWLY BOUGHT CAR.]
[ADMIN A: OH, THAT TIME KAELEN ALMOST DIED BY MARCUS'S HANDS. HAHAHAHA]
The scene also left the four servants in uncomfortable silence, as the serious men from earlier were gone again, replaced by what sounded like loud-mouthed bickering.
Then, a loud bell alarm chimed throughout the North.
BONG… BONG…
BONG… BONG…
"IT'S A MONSTER ATTACK!" Gareth yelled and immediately ran off.
The bickering brothers stopped and looked deadly serious.
"Show them what GSD's finest are made of," Marcus said.
The three younger siblings smiled like a maniac.
-TO BE CONTINUED-