The next day.
Domiré sat at the long dining table of the Vellacroix estate, a silver fork in hand, quietly poking at the eggs on his plate. The morning light poured in through the tall windows, but the room itself was unnaturally still.
Hamura finally broke the silence.
"Domi, did you sleep well last night?" she asked softly.
Domiré didn't look up. "Mhh."
Umi and Hamura exchanged glances. The air was heavy with unspoken tension.
Umi leaned forward. "Are you still mad at us?"
Domiré shook his head. "Nope." Then, after a pause, he looked up. "Dad, I have a question."
Umi smiled faintly. "Oh? What is it, Domi?"
Domiré's eyes were sharp for his age. "Is it possible for a family to increase its noble ranking?"
Umi sighed quietly. "Domi, look—"
But before he could finish, Domiré cut in. "Don't worry, Father. This has nothing to do with gifts or anything like that. I'm just curious."
Umi looked at Hamura, who nodded slightly. Then he turned back to his son.
"Well," he said after a moment, "it's not very easy. But it's not impossible either. Some noble families managed to rise through special circumstances. For example—there have been nobles who birthed exceptional talents, or families who discovered great treasures. The Fendisal family, for instance, discovered a rare talent who climbed to Admiral rank within the Four Great Nation Alliance military. Because of that, their family was elevated to high-ranking noble status."
Domiré leaned back slightly, nodding. "Mhh. Thank you, Father."
Umi smiled. "Of course, Domi."
The rest of breakfast continued in silence.
---
Later that morning, Domiré walked along the narrow paths that wound across Little Swan Island.
He looked out over the modest town below, the wooden rooftops, the scent of salt in the air.
He hated it.
This small island—his so-called home—only reminded him of how small he really was. A minor noble. A nobody among the great families of the world.
He clenched his fists. I want more.
---
Just then, something whistled through the air.
A stick—thin and sharp—flew straight toward him, striking his arm.
"Ahh!" Domiré screamed in pain, clutching his left arm where a shallow cut formed.
A girl's voice echoed from nearby. "Fenn! I told you to watch where you throw it! Now look, you've hurt someone!"
"I didn't mean to!" came a boy's panicked voice.
Two figures came running toward him—a young boy with messy hair and a worried look, and a short-haired girl with sharp, violet eyes.
Domiré glared at them. "What are you doing, you two dumb peasants!?"
Both Fenn and the girl—Anitta—froze.
The words stung. Anger flashed across Fenn's face, and Anitta's eyes narrowed slightly. But both of them forced themselves to stay calm. They knew they were in the wrong.
Anitta nudged Fenn lightly.
Fenn sighed through his nose, visibly holding himself back. "I'm sorry I hit you," he said. "It was a mistake."
Domiré's lips curled. "When peasants apologize to nobles, they should kneel."
A strange satisfaction spread through him.
So what if Reze is higher ranked than me, he thought. These two are beneath me. I can do to them what he did to me.
Anitta's eyes snapped open in disbelief. "Hey! He already apologized, right? Let it go."
Domiré laughed coldly. "Let it go? Do you know what injuring a noble could mean for you? If I show this scratch to my father, he'll make sure you and your family pay dearly."
He knew it was a bluff. His father was too kind for that. But these two didn't know that—and the fear in their eyes gave him a small sense of power.
Fenn clenched his fists. "Anitta," he muttered, "I don't like this guy. Let me punch him once."
Anitta stopped him. "No matter what, he's a noble," she said firmly.
Then she turned toward Domiré and stepped closer.
Domiré immediately stiffened, taking a nervous step back. "W-What are you doing?" he stammered, trying to look brave.
Anitta ignored him. She grabbed his arm and pressed her palm against the shallow cut.
A faint purple glow spread from her hand—small flames flickering to life around Domiré's bicep.
He yelped, "It burns!"
Anitta flicked his forehead lightly, shooting him an annoyed glare. "It doesn't even hurt."
Then she pointed at his arm. "There. Your little injury is gone."
Domiré blinked and looked down. The scratch… was gone. Not even a scar remained.
He stared at his arm in disbelief. Did that girl's flames… heal me?
Anitta turned away. "Come on, Fenn. Let's go."
She grabbed him by the collar and dragged him off, muttering under her breath as they walked away.
Domiré watched them until they disappeared into the trees. His father's words echoed in his mind—
> "The Fendisal family managed to discover a rare talent who made it to Admiral rank within the Four Great Nation Alliance military ranks and thus was given a high-ranking noble family title."<
Domiré's lips slowly curved into a cruel smile.
"Well, hello there," he whispered. "High-ranking noble ticket."
---
Domiré sat in his room, lost in thought. The golden curtains swayed gently from the night breeze seeping through the open window.
He leaned back on his chair, staring blankly at the ceiling. His mind was spinning.
His father would never allow him to outright take Anitta or attempt to buy her—he already knew that much. That left him frustrated. But after some thinking, a new idea formed in his mind.
If he couldn't buy her, then the most logical thing to do was to offer marriage.
A mere commoner like her would surely jump at the opportunity to marry into a noble house, no matter how small. Yes… this was it. That was the perfect plan.
Just then, a familiar voice called from downstairs.
"Domi! Dinner's ready!"
Domiré smiled to himself. "Perfect," he said quietly, and stood up.
---
At the dinner table, the air was calm. Silverware clinked lightly against fine porcelain plates.
Halfway through the meal, Domiré set down his fork and spoke up. "Father, Mother… I want to take a wife. And I already have the perfect girl in mind."
Both Umi and Hamura froze.
The sudden revelation caught them completely off guard.
Hamura's face lit up almost immediately—her heart fluttered at the thought of finally having a daughter-in-law.
Umi, on the other hand, looked at his son quietly. Over the years, he had come to understand Domiré's personality far better than before. Something told him this wasn't going to be as simple as it sounded. Still, he chose to stay calm.
He smiled faintly. "Oh? And who might this girl be, Domi?"
Domiré straightened proudly. "Her name is Anitta. She has red hair and she's very beautiful."
Umi blinked, then smiled in recognition. "Anitta, you say? I think I know that girl. Her father is a wealthy merchant—they moved here about a month ago. You have a good eye, Domi."
Domiré smiled brightly, pleased by his father's words.
"Then it's settled," Umi said with a chuckle. "I shall take you to meet her father in the coming days."
---
When the day came, both families gathered in the Palm household's living room.
Bernardo Palm sat with a calm but cautious smile, while Umi and Hamura sat across from him. Domiré, sitting upright beside his father, tried his best to appear confident.
But before any formalities could continue, Anitta—who had just entered the room—completely froze.
Then, out of nowhere, she jumped back and screamed, "Never! Never, never, never, never!" Her voice echoed through the house. It felt like it went on forever before she finally added, "I'll never marry a jerk like him!"
Domiré's face twisted in anger. He shot up from his seat and shouted back, "Don't call me a jerk, you flat-chested demon!"
Anitta's eyes flared. "Huh!??! I'm still growing! But you'll stay fat forever!"
The parents immediately stepped in to break up the argument before it got any worse.
Bernardo gave a flustered smile. "I apologize for my daughter's behavior. She can be… a bit extra sometimes."
Umi waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, Bernardo. My son also has quite a personality."
The tension eased as the two fathers laughed lightly, trying to smooth over the situation.
Umi added, "I suppose these marriage talks are off for now."
Bernardo nodded in agreement. "Yes, perhaps. But should both kids ever agree to it, then we'll finalize it."
Both fathers chuckled and shook hands.
---
But the years passed, and Domiré never gave up.
He proposed again and again, and each time, Anitta rejected him without hesitation.
Eventually, things escalated. Domiré began growing more aggressive toward her—his obsession slipping through his polite mask.
That was when Umi finally decided enough was enough. He sent his son away from the island, hoping distance would cool his temper.
It was during that time abroad that Domiré met Burly, Joone, and Sano.
---
He was twelve when he made the promise—twelve when he declared to the Nation Alliance that he would bring them a rare talent, one who could rise through their military ranks.
Now, at nineteen, Domiré still hadn't brought them their promised talent.
The Sword Military was losing patience. The higher-ups were tired of waiting for the "rare talent" Domiré had promised them years ago.
Sergeant Beard, his immediate supervisor, had already issued a final warning.
Beard himself wasn't particularly scary, but his lineage made him dangerous—he was the grandson of the Commander General of Sword, the man who oversaw the entire division. His influence was immense, and his words carried weight.
If Beard decided to terminate the agreement, Domiré's path to noble elevation would vanish completely. His dream—his goal—would crumble before his eyes.
And so, driven by desperation, humiliation, and obsession, Domiré made his choice.
The plan to kidnap Anitta was born that very night.