“The Empire's servant system is renowned for being peculiar. There is a very deeply rooted taste for complex hierarchy in the Imperial nobility, and this tendency reverberates on the servant vocation. Lots of different ranks. On the lowest echelon, you have the regular maids and butlers. Those, you can find in every noble house, in every kingdom. Then come the First Class maids and butlers. They take care of first class matters, whatever that means. Next, a rank called a High servant. High maids and High butlers are something akin to very skilled and elite subordinates. If your idiot son is a energetic, whiny angry brat, you should let the High servants take care of him. From here on it's mainly manager-like jobs. Section-chief butler, Executive maid, Chief of staff maid, Senior counsellor butler, Head-butler... No one really knows who does what. Not even the people paying them. We're not sure the servants themselves understand much about their roles at this point.

-Third section's human resources managing department executive president-butler”

* * *

Erin

“Have you got everything planned out ?”

“I believe so. I was a bit surprised when Anton informed me of the last-minute details, but it should be fine. I've taken into account the random things that could occur, like unexpected people attending, or a sudden assassination attempt. My plan can still go the way I intended even with that.”

Erin and Azcheron were making sure that they were prepared for the reception. Now that she was aware of Azcheron's plans, she could give him her insight. Of course, Erin would not dare to change too much of what her friend had already decided. It was still his own business before everything else, and she didn't find much to criticize anyway.

That was because she actually did like the daring and unpredictable ways of Azcheron. It felt like she would be able to witness something grand happening, without exactly being sure how it would turn out. Azcheron's schemes and plans were often revolving around conjectures, assumptions, and mostly, very random events and dangerous ventures, and that probably played an important role in giving a feeling of uncertainty and suspense to the everyday life by his side.

“Does Anton know the full story, by the way ? He is somehow involved in your mess, after all.”

“I think he has his own suspicions. My mother may have told him something, but I don't intend to speak to him about that yet. He has enough to deal with for the moment, and he will surely lose too much sleep over it if I tell him now.”

“So you do know how much of a stressful existence you are to him. You're lucky to have him as a friend, you know.”

He just chuckled and shrugged. The irony was that Azcheron was once again going to cause him trouble in the immediate future. Well, even right now, he was doing that. Poor Anton would have no time to worry about the search for the Rahal clan's origins.

She was glad that he finally chose to speak about himself. She didn't try to pry about his past and his goals because when they came to meet Anton the first night, he had admitted to seek fame and glory. That may or may not have looked like a lie or an excuse or whatever else, but Erin didn't inquire at the time.

That was before he basically requested of her that she risked her life for him on a seemingly meaningless and suicidal trip. So, that time, she asked. And she was given an answer. An answer she could appreciate, in fact. She even accepted his request almost on the spot. That was a week ago, and she had time to think about it with a cool head. Yet her decision didn't change.

The reason wasn't clear. She'd say it was a large mesh of many things. Curiosity, excitement, compassion, maybe a bit of pity. Fear of loneliness ? Affection, perhaps.

Whatever, she finally concluded. Erin liked to think, not to overthink. For now, it did not matter why exactly she wanted to join Azcheron in his quest for truth. It mattered to her, however, that she now had a clear and defined goal. Not that she had just been aimlessly running away from her family and following around Azcheron until now, but she would not be lying if she said that previously, it felt like she merely went with the flow of things.

So here she was, taking part in Azcheron's plot, this time in full awareness and by her own volition. They were about to enter the enormous Farril mansion located around the centre of the capital. The manors in this city were nothing like those in the countryside. Once again as per the peculiar customs of the Empire, they were called mansions without really being mansions, but nobody seemed to care.

There wasn't much place for disproportioned gardens and the usual flashy show of wealth that was characteristic of the nobility. Instead, the mansions here were built very tall rather than very large. If you were a noble living in the capital, you had to like stairs.

“Still, I didn't expect that it would take place at the Farril estate. I guess I really did catch their attention.” Azcheron scratched his chin as he looked up and observed the huge building. Erin did the same.

It was maybe seven or eight stories high, and the architecture was in the imperial standard's margin. Marble and polished stones of light and cold tones and colours, mostly white, beige and grey. A few decorations carved and sculpted into the stone, mainly under the balconies and around the windows. You couldn't see the roof from down here but Erin knew that it was pointy and made of slate tile, like every building in the capital.

Yes, the nobles' mansions all looked like every other house here, they were just taller. The Imperial Palace aside, the only oddity in the entire city might be the Academy with its dark grey and black materials and castle-like design.

“I'm fine with the reception being held anywhere as long as it's not at my family's mansion,” she said.

Initially, Erin had not planned to come to the party, seeing as this was an event that wasn't really concerning her, but Azcheron had managed to convince her during the week. According to him, their association must have been known to many by now, so Erin should not mind bringing attention to him because of her name anymore.

More like, Azcheron insisted that she came and did nothing to hide her name. He craved for the attention. In the same fashion, he came purposely late to the event, despite having promised to Anton that he'd be there on time for the banquet dinner. The poor old mage was probably already inside, biting his nails while cursing the young Saint and making awkward apologies to the other guests.

Having finished judging the manor, Azcheron spoke.

“Are you ready ?”

“All good.”

“Remember, I need you to look especially stylish in tonight's reception.”

She nodded.

Azcheron therefore led the march, followed by Erin, and opened the door with a brutal push. However the entrance hall was disappointingly empty, except for a maid who yelped in surprise.

The two 'intruders' stood there for a moment, during which the maid left, to come back shortly after with a horde of servants. The maids and butlers entered a staring contest with Azcheron, until one of them, probably the head-butler, carved through the crowd and cleared his throat.

“Lord Azcheron, I presume ?”

“Indeed !” he answered in an arrogant voice.

“... It is an immense pleasure to welcome a guest such as you. Without any further delay, lord Azcheron, it might be wise for us to be on our way to the reception hall. Your... fashionable tardiness might not suit the taste of the other guests.”

“Very well ! We shall do so.”

The butler briefly looked at Erin. “Lord Azcheron, if I may inquire about the lady accompanying you ? We were not warned that you would be bringing company.”

Azcheron also glanced at said company, nodded, and the smile appeared on his face. He then spoke in that loud mana-enhanced voice.

“FOOLS ! Have you no eyes ? Bow all before lady Erin of house Verald !”

Ugh, I knew he wouldn't let that pass. The bastard is enjoying this.

Erin was even more horrified as every single servant in the hall complied. Azcheron then turned toward her, took a solemn expression and tone, and lowered his head like a butler. “This way, milady.”

Shut up ! You don't even know the way !

She kept her composure nonetheless, as she had promised him that she would be the most stylish person of the evening. Chin up, stern look, and an overall posture of arrogance, yes, that should do the trick. She'd be copying Azcheron, basically.

The head-butler was very professional and quickly regained his aplomb, realizing that Azcheron was that kind of guest.

“Lady Verald, lord Azcheron, if you'd be so kind as to follow me, I shall show you to the reception hall.”

Erin could once again witness the look of reverence and fear in some of the servants upon hearing her name proclaimed, especially now that she was playing the role of the proud lady Verald, but tried to pay it no mind and followed behind the steps of Azcheron and the butler.

As they walked the richly decorated corridors and stairs of the manor, Azcheron addressed the butler.

“May I ask for your name ?”

“It is Gabriel, my lord.”

“Hm. I see. Gabriel. I would ask a favour of you.”

“I cannot promise anything, but I will gladly oblige if it is in my power to do so.”

“Yes, I believe it is. I take it you are required to introduce me in a specific manner, when we arrive to the reception room ?” He waited for Gabriel to confirm. “Then, please forget about it, and listen to me instead.”

As Azcheron detailed his request to Gabriel, Erin saw his professional, emotionless face crumbling ever so slightly.

* * *

Anton

Anton could have sworn that he heard it. That sound.

Yes, it was that sound. The irritating noise of someone shouting with sound magic. Surely something had happened in the lower floors, but no one would check, because there was no need to do so. Soon enough, the cause would find its way up here, Anton thought.

He waited, yet nothing happened. Was it his imagination ? Maybe. Maybe the last guest had still not arrived.

Anton was getting increasingly worried and angry with each second passing. Azcheron had promised that he would show himself on time, and in turn the scholar had guaranteed the same to the other guests.

Now everyone was gathered in the reception hall, awkwardly talking to each other while passing time and trying to figure out if they had misheard or misunderstood something since the main guest was not here yet. There were musicians, but they weren't playing anything. They had been told to wait for the reception to officially start.

The Farril house had insisted that they would hold the event at their estate, although many others were equally eager to apply for the honour since rumours of Azcheron and Roharl sparring had started to circulate.

But the Farril suggested that they could host the reception even before the rumours came to be. It was as if Roharl had a hand in it. It was a possibility.

Speak of the devil, our dear Dragon Slayer invited himself to our little party. As if things weren't spicy enough with Azcheron's personality.

As much as Anton could speculate on possible added chaos that Roharl could cause, the Dragon Slayer had not made himself too noticeable as of now. He was only sitting in an armchair, eating at his convenience as he pillaged the banquet table.

He didn't know enough about Roharl and his relationship with his family to know if he had to expect trouble anyway. Very few were those who knew of Roharl's name, and even fewer must have been those who knew the secret behind it. Anton was not among the latter. It was probably limited to the Farril family.

Well, Roharl isn't the only one that might prove problematic.

There were some very important people here. Such as the current Farril patriarch, who was in charge of the trade ministry. Or the countess Ravilna, daughter from one of the four great houses. Or the headmaster of the Academy, Hector Talir. Among the thirty-odd people present, they were surely the ones you had to be the most wary of.

They were not exactly troublesome per-se (they were rather reasonable people when compared to Roharl or Azcheron), but they held so much power that you might as well deal with them as if they were trouble incarnate were you to make the slightest mistake.

Hence Anton's dread at Azcheron's lateness.

A butler entered the room and went to speak with the musicians. Maybe they were being sent away ? The Farril must have decided that the banquet was a failure.

If Anton had ever felt remorse and guilt by inviting Azcheron to this wolf-filled reception, it was in the past. Now he just hoped that the damn brat would come and make a commotion. Loud enough so that all the resentment in the room casted upon himself would be redirected toward Azcheron, until the end of time.

While sipping his wine with a nervous expression, Anton watched the butler walking back through the hall and slowing down when he arrived next to the double-panelled door. He took a long look around and exited the room.

What is happening ? Are they going to ask everyone to leave ? ...Hmm ?

Anton suddenly had a strange feeling. He couldn't put his finger on what it was, yet he undoubtedly knew what was the cause. As if confirming his suspicions, he saw a few other people turning their head toward the doors.

People like Roharl and Hector Talir. In other words, mages.

Yes, that feeling was mana being manipulated by someone. Magic was about to be used. What was that, ill-intentioned uninvited guests ? No, who was he kidding ? The butler's brief appearance gave up the answer. There was only one person who'd use magic in a noble's manor without warning anybody, apart from an assassin. Anton smiled faintly.

Just in case, he stepped further away from the entrance. Just in case.

As he was trying to act ignorant, roaming around the banquet table and grabbing food, the door exploded. Then everyone became silent.

Immediately after, there was a breeze and the lights went out. The candlesticks had been put out. Wind magic ?

In the dark and the smoke, an light suddenly came from the entrance, casting a ghostly glow through the dust cloud. From the light, the voice came.

“GREETINGS, AND WELCOME ! I, AZCHERON, HAVE GATHERED ALL OF YOU FOR THIS SPECIAL OCCASION ! REJOICE, FOR IT IS YOUR HONOUR TO HAVE ME AS YOUR ESTEEMED HOST !”

In a theatrical manner, the light coming from the smoke dimmed, said smoke instantaneously cleared as a small whirlwind was created, and the candlesticks were lit again.

You're not the damn host, you brat ! We're in the Farril mansion, you know that !

Azcheron could now be seen, standing in front of the still fuming blasted entrance, arms folded, chin raised, a fierce look glancing over the room, softening from time to time as he seemed to notice a few familiar faces.

The youth wasn't wearing the formal attire that Anton gave him. Of course he would come dressed in his traditional coloured clothing, Anton should have known. He was the proud Saint, after all. At least he had taken off his feathered coat. That thing looked old and worn out, and almost intimidating with its black feathers.

After staring at each and every individual present in the reception hall, Azcheron spread his arms and carried on in a still loud but less aggressive manner.

“I COMMEND YOU FOR ANSWERING MY INVITATION ! YOU MAY COME FORTH AND INTRODUCE YOURSELVES LATER ! ON THIS NOTE, ENJOY THE RECEPTION !”

As he clapped his hands, music suddenly began to play from the other side of the room. People started to whisper, before a thunderous laugh could be heard. It was Roharl, who else ? Shortly thereafter, the important players of the event, not losing face for a second, started to chat and eat and laugh too, and people followed. The reception would start, albeit in an unconventional fashion.

Anton turned back toward Azcheron, who was now also looking in his direction. He looked proud and satisfied of his stunt, and it was as if he was waiting for Anton to approve and compliment his entrance. A few steps behind was Erin in her elegant knight attire, with an amused expression, arms crossed. She was standing with her back against a relatively intact portion of the wall. She had a somewhat arrogant aura.

When did she pick up his behaviour ?! Why does she look like she's having fun ! Azcheron, did you corrupt her ?

Well, Anton wasn't that surprised. In these last months at the academy she had spent even more time than Anton in the company of the poison itself, Azcheron, so it would have been strange if she was still perturbed by things like that by now.

He walked toward them with the intention to scold them, but he couldn't find anything to say. Surely everyone had forgotten about Anton's blunder now, so in a way he was saved by Azcheron.

“Well, I don't know why I even expected a normal arrival from you. You could have told me you'd be late, though.”

“Hahaha ! What are you saying, Anton ! Of course I wouldn't tell you.”

It looked like he would keep on speaking, but he didn't, and there was an awkward silence. Yeah, what are YOU saying ! You're supposed to justify yourself now ! Don't stop in the middle of an explanation.

“Anyway,” he finally said, turning to the butler Anton saw before. “Thank you for your cooperation, Gabriel. The entrance was a success.”

It was obvious now that the butler was an accomplice. Getting the musicians ready, checking that nobody would be blasted along with the doors and whatnot.

“It was my... honour. But please do not proclaim from the rooftops that I took part in it. I would appreciate not losing my employ.”

Azcheron nodded. “Indeed, indeed. A proper reward. I shall keep silent about that.” He then addressed Anton once again. “Come, friend. Let us eat and drink, and get me introduced more intimately to these people. They don't seem keen on coming to see me. I'm afraid I might have scared them off.”

No wonder. It was their first time, after all. When Azcheron greets you the first time, it always feels like he's about to attack or behead you. Sometimes he is.