The spotless floor was littered with shattered glass and the broken limbs of furniture. Splinters and shards all combined as they layered the surface of the floor. The expensive desk was destroyed as though a huge boulder had crushed it. Shredded paper scattered on the bed and the luxurious thick curtains were ripped into pieces. No matter how one looked at it, it was certainly the work of a ravaging beast. A storm moved ferociously beyond the window as if circling the pitiful room within the walls.

Standing at the center of the wrecked room, a certain Lord panted. His once calm demeanor was broken by the crazed madness swirling in his eyes. The insides of his palms were riddled with wounds from his nails as he clenched his fists without a thought. Blood seeps from between his fingers but he didn't recognize the pain. As if the injury never even bothered him. His neat hair was in a mess and the veins in his neck throbbed. There was no denying it, he had gone mad.

There was a piercing ache in his head. It was excruciating and insufferable. Although this wasn't the first time his mana had surged, it was always stronger and more painful than the last surge.

As an illegitimate child of the Hercullian family, he was only recognized by the significance in his blood and his looks even though he was a bastard son. A bastard son deserves to rot and be killed but he was spared the murder and they believed he should be thankful for it. The surges in his childhood left him battered and soulless. Filthy blood, they named him. However, none of it mattered. He had trampled the past and emerged with ascendancy.

But the memories kept appearing...

The mana surge not only brought him pain but dragged his memories with it. Although he wanted to laugh at the humorless insignificant past, it made his scars burn.

The Lord closed his eyes as the pain clawed in his chest. Like being eaten alive by wriggling maggots with teeth. This time, he needed to release his aura to lessen the pressure of his mana. He didn't even think twice as he did. Although it brought a slight comfort, the ache was still piercing.

Woosh!

Oppression engulfed the room. Even spreading outwards beyond the doors of the room. Heavily potent and powerful. Any person outside would immediately fall to their knees hopelessly. This time of situation was dangerous. Even life-threatening...

Thud!

Hadrian sharply turned his attention to the door. His eyes flashed with madness. Didn't he ordered the vacancy of the Leonile tower?! Who dared to disobey him?

He gritted his teeth as he worked to withdraw his aura slightly. He clenched his fists harder as he did. His patience and restraint cracking open. The survival of the person outside was no longer his problem.

He extends his sense behind the walls and finally realized the person has left the room. His head throbbed. He cursed as he swore he would kill the person who dared enter his quarters...

The only person who had known of his quarters were Varick and-

Moulin...

Golden eyes snapped open. Glass cracked underneath his feet. With quick steps, Hadrian slammed the door open. The handle was crushed beneath his grip, deforming. He panted as his eyes scanned the room.

He left...

"..." Hadrian shut his eyes tight when the pain once again entered his skull. He could hear his ears ringing endlessly.

Suddenly, something gleamed against the dim light of the bedroom. It twinkled innocently on the bed.

Hadrian narrowed his eyes as he walked towards the wide bed. Its curtains tied elegantly. His guard raised as it always had been. He stopped at the foot of the bed. Golden eyes slightly widened, staring at the small object sitting on the soft sheets on the bed. It was childish and cute.

The tightness in his fists loosened and his expression gradually softened...

A little wolf figure sat innocently on the smooth covers. It was small. The size of Hadrian's hand perhaps. Sculpted from pure white ice. Dazzling and adorable in his words. It completely turned the Lord's expression. The little wolf was sitting upright looking as though it was domineering and arrogant.

Hadrian stared at it. The more he did, he was unaware of the lightening feeling inside him. Like a feather landing gently on stagnant water, creating elegant ripples.

Strangely, water doused the scorching fire and he felt light and warm. Complicated emotions fell wave by wave as he looked at the wolf.

The Lord picked up the wolf ice figure from the bed. A corner of his lips lifted. It was exactly like one of his old wolf figurines in his old study. He recalled a certain youth with curious silver eyes staring at the collections in his glass cabinets like a child.

A drop of blood from his fingers stained the white ice wolf in his hand. It looked detesting and soiled. The Lord's eyes dimmed as he coated the little figure with a wisp of his mana to avoid protect it from his own blood. The contrast of the colors was strangely alluring and polluted at the same time.

A deep chuckle escaped from the lord's mouth.

He had gone mad...

"That clever little doll..."

You made me like this therefore I am beholden to you. Once I have you in my hands you can no longer escape...

.......................

A flash of light appeared on the central teleportation crystal of the well-known Azuran academy.

What first welcomed Moulin's eyes was the bustling scene of numerous maeruthans roaming the grounds. Innumerable maeruthans in different colored uniforms. Others were doing their runs while some were leisurely taking a walk while chattering.

"Come..." Tessley walked forward through the scattering people who fled whispering once they noticed the emblem on their uniforms. Their sneering and gossiping eyes didn't escape Moulin's view. He held back the urge to roll his eyes.

Ghana and Jagra had noticed as well, Moulin realized. However, their expression was negatively different than Moulin's. They followed Tessley through the people while glancing at the foolish gazes.

"Don't pay attention to them... We aren't here for their leisure... " Tessley reminded as they walked.

Ghana and Jagra exchanged looks and obediently turned their gazes away. Moulin lifting a corner of his lips as he patted Snow on his shoulder. Snow happily leaned in on his master's pampering touch.

"Where are we going?" Ghana asked.

"To the guild manorial..." Tessley simply answered. Her words earned her the confused expression of her juniors. With a smile, she explained. "We keep a different headquarters here in Azuran. Although it is much simpler than the Leonile manorial, this headquarters serves its purpose by receiving daily guests. The Leonile manorial is secretive and no foreign people can enter it whenever they want to. These alternative headquarters accept proposals and tasks as well as entertain fools from other guilds."

"So this headquarters is like a fake manorial? If so, won't people know of it already?" Jagra asked.

"They are already aware of it. Although they found it quite ridiculous they could not do anything. They don't have the guts to face the Lord themselves..." Tessley let out a soft laugh. Her black hair swaying with her movements.

Moulin faintly smiled. Those people's acts were clearly influenced by jealousy and pride. He could already imagine the scornful look on Lord Hadrian's face as he faced all these problems. If only he was there to witness it.

After a few minutes of walking, they finally arrive before the arched entranced of the manorial walls.

"People called this the 'Guild of Gold'. Exaggerated but fitting..." Tessley nodded at two passing sentinels wearing the Leonile uniform.

"How did it acquire such a name?" Moulin asked as he held Snow in his arms, ignoring the curious gaze of the two sentinels that passed him. His silver eyes gazed at the elegant structure of the manorial. However, there wasn't a hint of gold anywhere.

"For the reasons pertaining to an event that has long passed" Tessley answered. She refused to answer any questions after that.

They entered the entranced and met the foot of the white stoned steps of the manorial. There wasn't a large courtyard before the manor but the vast size made up for what it lacked.

They walked silently through the outdoor hallways leading to the entrance of the doors of the manorial. The carvings on the door were quite lavish, Moulin noticed.

The doors opened and they entered. Moulin stared at the wide hall with awe. It was vast and elegant. However, it looked vacant and empty. A couple of sentinels glanced in their way, curious of the recruits that they haven't had the chance to meet. Tessley nodded at them calmly before walking leisurely towards a man who was seriously reading a plain scroll handed to him by the sentinel at his right.

His mahogany hair was messy as though he had just gotten out of bed. Despite that, his stern countenance would make one behave subconsciously.

"Rowan!..." Teslley called him. There was an unusual sparkle in her eyes as she did. The three juniors beside her noticed her strange change in expression.

The man turned and smiled. His blue cerulean eyes were magnetic as it looked at Tessley. His posture was elegant and relaxed. The emblem on his tie indicated his position as an honorary sentinel in the Leonile guild.

For a moment, Moulin felt that the man looked familiar. As though he had met him before. He usually didn't care about familiar people but for some reason, he swore he had seen the blue-eyed man before.

"Tessley, it is good to see you..." Rowan handed the scroll of the man beside him and dismissed him with a wave. His blue eyes glanced at the three people beside her. "I believe these are our recruits from the trial?"

With a smile, Tessley nodded. "Yes, they are. Our Lord has great expectations for them."

"I see..." Rowan faintly smiled. He turned to the three. "You may call me Rowan. I am the acting head of this manorial. Feel free to ask me if you encounter any problems."

Ghana, Jagra and, Moulin briefly introduced themselves to their senior. Rowan was friendly and authoritative at the same time. Moulin could tell he was a great leader.

"Ah..." Rowan suddenly looked at him. There was a strange smile on his face as he took a step forward to Moulin. "We meet again young master...."

Moulin knitted his eyebrows. So he wasn't wrong. They really have met before...

Realizing that the youth before him have forgotten him. Rowan gave out a chuckle. His blue eyes were smiling with amusement. "Of course, the young master would forget our insignificant meeting. The Townsquare in Faerim city a day before the moonflower festival. The recollection is as vivid as the red color of your scarf around your hair. Surely, you would have remembered the fountain."

Fountain...

Moulin's eyes blinked in surprise. Ah, the man he had met coincidentally before the fountain of Nithialauna! He didn't quite remember the face of the man he had conversed shortly with but he did remember that he had spoken to someone. Only, he didn't know that the man was actually an honorary sentinel of the Leonile guild!

Rowan grinned. The aphrodite's current expression looked pleasing to the eyes. How innocent. Even his thoughts were innocent. Rowan chuckled.

So this was the young man that had caught his Lord's attention...

There was a smile in eyes yet something lurked within...