From the gallery above both Valen and Reinhardt looked down upon the fight and chaos which had overtaken the once glorious ballroom. The moonlight came through the broken windows casting a warm glow over everyone present there including toppled tables, ruined finery and the desperate movements of nobles and guards alike roming here and there to save their lives.
In one of the corner the center of the turmoil Aurianne Elodie Kallenhart stood out like light is darkness. She wiended her sword with a firm grip and practiced precision while her golden hair golden hair flashing as she shouted at the guards to form formations.
There was pride in her stance, but more than that, there was a natural aura of a leader.
Even as blood streaked her cheek and her dress got torn here and there, she led her people with unwavering determination, forming a defensive ring around the weak. Others, nobles and servants alike, instinctively gravitated toward her, drawn to her by her charisma as a leader.
Not far away from Aurianne, bright radiance stood Marius Viridiel pressed between the crowd trying to hide behind a toppled table. While the others fought or tended to the wounded he decided to cover in a corner eyes darting nervously from one corner to another repeating the same sentence again and again.
"Elder, hurry up and save me. Elder, hurry up and save me. Elder, hurry up and save me. Elder, hurry up and save me. Elder, hurry up and save me. Elder, hurry up and save me. Elder, hurry up and save me."
He chanted them to himself like a prayer while searching for the elder to appear, despite being safely shielded among the Aurianne troops.
The memory of Anwir dragging him to safety was still fresh in his mind, but now, when courage was most needed, he seemed content to let the crowd shield him, his noble bearing all but vanished beneath a mask of fear.
Valen watched this scene in silence, he was silent but his gaze was sharp which swept over the chaotic battlefield formed in the ballroom occasionally glancing at Selvaria and tensing up while being ready to jump right in to help her if needed.
While Reinhardt's jaw tightened as he took in the sight of Aurianne, pride and worry warring in his eyes. Together, they bore witness to the forging of leaders and the revealing of cowards under the cold, indifferent gaze of the moon.
Reinhardt's grip tightened on the balustrade as he watched Aurianne deflect a demon's claws with her shield, her voice ringing clear above the chaos: "Hold the line! Protect the wounded!" His chest swelled with pride, but his words, when they came, were gruff with paternal fear. "She's grown into a leader… but she throws herself into the fray like a common soldier. Protecting others isn't worth her life."
Valen's gaze slid to Selvaria, who stood at the center of a growing circle of frost, her magic shielding a group of cowering nobles. Anwir fought at her side, blade dancing to intercept any demon that breached her ice. Valen's lip curled. "Weakness," he said coldly. "The frail are meant to be used as shields or discarded. Protecting them is a waste of strength. She still has much to learn."
Reinhardt turned sharply, his holy sigils flaring. "You'd let innocents die to preserve your own?"
"Innocents?" Valen's laugh was a low, dangerous sound. "There are no innocents here. Only those strong enough to survive… and those who aren't." His crimson-tinged eyes flicked to Marius, still cowering behind a table. "That is the future of the Holy Families. Pathetic."
Reinhardt's voice hardened. "Strength without honor is just brutality, Rosenthal."
"Honor?" Valen's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Honor won't save her when the next blade comes."
Below, Selvaria's ice shattered under a demon's strike. Anwir lunged, intercepting the blow with a grunt of pain, blood streaking his sleeve. Selvaria's cry of fury echoed upward as she retaliated, a glacial spire impaling the creature.
Reinhardt watched Aurianne rally her guards, her courage unbroken, and shook his head. "You're wrong, Valen. It's because of honor that they'll outlast us all."
Valen said nothing, but as they turned to leave, his final glance at Selvaria held a flicker of something unreadable-approval, perhaps, for her power, but disdain for the compassion that tempered it.
The heirs' trial continued unabated, the Dukes' opposing philosophies lingering in the air like smoke. Somewhere, a clock began to chime. The hour was late, but the true reckoning had only just begun.
The middle-tier demon charged at Selvaria, its claws leaking thick, black mana. Selvaria raised her ice shield, and the strength of the blow broke it. Ice shards skittered over the marble. Anwir, already gashed and breathing hard, acted without thinking.
"Position Swap!"
Space twisted. In a blink, Anwir stood where Selvaria had been, his blade intercepting the demon's strike with a shower of sparks. Selvaria reappeared a few paces back, momentarily disoriented but unharmed.
Above, Valen's eyes narrowed. "That sill… Is it spatial manipulation?" His voice was low, a rare note of surprise cutting through his usual cold detachment. 'Since when did a butler wield such advanced magic? Did Selvaria take him in cause of that? Or…'
Reinhardt grunted, watching Anwir's desperate defense. "It seems the demon has been severely weakened due to the penalty of coming to our world uninvitedand since it was a middle-class demon, the suppression should be as much higher but still the boy is pretty strong to hold up against a middle-class demon on his own even if this demon can only be considered a low calss demon in battlefield."
His gaze sharpened as Anwir parried another strike, his movements precise despite his injuries. "But that boy… Spatial magic is rare. Too rare for a servant why not give him to me I have pretty skilled mages in my family."
Valen's did not reply as he was thinking about something elteirly else as his jaw tightened while looking at Anwir. 'A mole? An imperial spy? Or worse-a gift from our enemies?' Suspicion coiled in his chest, but as he watched Anwir take a claw to the shoulder to shield Selvaria, the trembling became much milder, the Duke scoffed. "No pawn would bleed so freely for a role. He's either a fool… or loyal unto death."
Reinhardt nodded grimly. "Or both."
Below, Anwir staggered but didn't fall, his voice ragged but steady as he shouted, "Position Swap!" again, yanking a candelabrum into the demon's path. The creature roared, momentarily distracted.
Selvaria seized the opening, her ice spearing through its chest. The demon dissolved into ash, and the ballroom erupted in ragged cheers.
Valen turned away, his expression unreadable. "Loyalty born of desperation. It won't last."
Reinhardt lingered a moment longer, watching Aurianne help a wounded noble to their feet. "You underestimate it. Desperation… forge the strongest blades."
As they retreated into the shadows, the heirs below began to regroup, unaware of the weight their fathers' gazes had left behind.