The border between regions faded behind him like a distant memory.
Aldrich did not look back.
The sea stretched endlessly under a pale sky.
Aldrich stood at the bow of the ship, the wind pressing against his coat. His hood was up, shadowing his face beneath the black mask he now wore. The salt air carried a quiet chill, but his posture remained unmoved.
Time had shaped him.
He was taller now—his frame lean, athletic, and refined through a year of relentless Iris training. His movements were no longer sharp bursts of raw force, but controlled, deliberate efficiency. His short black hair had grown longer, tied neatly at the back of his head, allowing it to stay out of his way during movement.
Black and white clothing wrapped his form: fitted pants, a structured shirt, and a black coat lined with white fur resting over his shoulders. His katana rested at his side—not just a weapon, but a constant companion.
He stood still.
Listening.
Feeling.
Observing.
The waves below.
The wind.
The subtle creak of the ship's structure.
Stillness had become more than technique.
It had become his default state.
When the ship docked, Aldrich stepped onto land without ceremony.
The same city.
The same streets.
The same atmosphere he had passed through years ago.
But he was not the same.
The streets were busier now, filled with merchants, travelers, and scattered conversations. Aldrich walked through them quietly, drawing occasional glances—not because he sought attention, but because something about him felt… different.
Not loud.
Not imposing.
But present.
He entered the same inn.
The wooden door creaked as he pushed it open.
Inside, the familiar scent of cooked food, spices, and alcohol filled the air. The clatter of dishes and low chatter of patrons created a steady background hum.
Aldrich approached the counter.
"Food," he said calmly.
The innkeeper glanced at him, then nodded quickly, sensing something unusual in his tone.
Moments later, Aldrich sat at a corner table, removing nothing except the slight tension in his shoulders.
He ate quietly.
At a nearby table, several men spoke in lowered voices.
Aldrich did not look at them.
But he listened.
"…Scarlet clan still hasn't accepted the Morningstar proposal."
"Two years now."
"Stubborn. Or maybe… strategic."
Another voice leaned in.
"I heard they're going today."
A pause followed.
"The Morningstar clan isn't going to wait forever."
The tone shifted slightly—less speculation, more tension.
Aldrich continued eating.
His expression did not change.
But his awareness sharpened.
Scarlet clan.
Ellistra.
Morningstar clan.
A political alignment attempt.
And pressure.
He placed his utensils down calmly.
Aldrich reached into his coat and placed two gold coins on the table.
Then he stood.
But before he could turn—
Two drunk men stumbled into his path.
"Hey… hey there," one of them slurred, squinting at him. "You from around here?"
The other laughed.
"Look at his clothes… doesn't match the area at all."
Aldrich stopped.
He did not sigh.
He did not react with irritation.
He simply said, calmly:
"Look, I don't want any trouble. I'm just passing by."
The two men exchanged glances.
Then one of them smirked.
"Yeah? Then why don't you show us what's under that mask?"
They moved suddenly.
Clumsy—but aggressive.
Aldrich didn't draw his blade.
He didn't escalate.
He stepped slightly to the side.
Both men's attacks missed entirely.
They lost balance—
And collided into each other.
Thud.
They fell to the ground in a tangled heap.
The room briefly went quiet.
Aldrich adjusted his coat slightly.
And without another word—
He walked out.
Outside, the air felt different.
The forest near the city stood quiet, dense, and undisturbed.
Aldrich stepped into it.
And then—
He vanished.
Not literally.
But effectively.
His movement became something else entirely.
No audible footsteps.
No displaced leaves beyond what was natural.
Each step he took seemed to cover more ground than expected.
Two steps felt like one.
His presence blended into the environment, as though the forest itself accepted his passage.
Stillness.
Perfected.
After some time, the silhouette of the Scarlet estate came into view.
Carriages lined the entrance.
Multiple guards stood at attention.
Activity filled the grounds—far more than expected.
Aldrich approached the gate.
A guard stepped forward.
"Halt. State your identity. No one is allowed on the premises at this time."
Aldrich stopped.
He reached up slowly.
And removed his hood.
Then his mask.
The guard's expression changed instantly.
Recognition.
They had seen this face before.
Not in person.
But in a portrait.
And with a warning.
The princess had given them explicit instruction:
If this man appears, treat him with the same authority as her.
The guards immediately stepped aside.
"Apologies for the delay, sir."
Aldrich nodded slightly.
"Don't worry about it. You're just doing your jobs."
He walked past them without hesitation.
And entered the estate.
The front doors stood before him.
Voices echoed faintly from within.
A gathering.
Important.
Aldrich paused briefly.
Then—
He pushed the doors open.
The doors swung inward.
Footsteps followed.
Measured.
Controlled.
Visible to all.
Inside the main hall stood multiple figures:
Michael Scarlet Krishna Ellistra Representatives of the Morningstar clan Their heir and patriarch Several attendants and observers
All eyes shifted toward the entrance.
The sound of footsteps continued.
Then—
Aldrich stepped forward into full view.
Silence spread across the hall.
Ellistra's eyes widened slightly.
Then her expression softened instantly.
"Babe!"
She moved without hesitation—
Running across the hall.
And embracing him tightly.
Aldrich returned the hug naturally.
Grounded.
Familiar.
Real.
"How did you know it was me?" he asked quietly.
Ellistra smiled, still holding him.
"Right like I'd forget my man's posture."
Aldrich chuckled softly.
He looked at her more closely.
"You've gotten more beautiful since the last time I saw you."
Ellistra blushed faintly.
Before stepping back just enough to look at him.
The room remained silent.
Aldrich turned slightly toward Michael and Krishna.
He bowed respectfully.
"Father in law… mother in law. I've returned."
Michael laughed lightly.
"You've always had good timing, Aldrich."
From across the hall, a man stepped forward.
The heir of the Morningstar clan—
Lephisto Morningstar.
His expression was sharp.
Cold.
Unimpressed.
"Impudent," he said. "Who do you think you are walking in here and not even addressing the Morningstar clan?"
Aldrich's gaze shifted to him.
Slowly.
Then calmly—
He removed his coat's hood fully.
And his stance changed slightly.
Not aggressive.
But firm.
"I am Aldrich Yagurah."
His voice carried clearly through the hall.
"I suggest you respect my name before calling me impudent."
A pause.
Aldrich's eyes remained steady.
"Have you no shame?"
"Ellistra has refused you for two years."
"Why are you still here?"
"Didn't she make it clear that I'm her only one?"
The tension in the room rose sharply.
Lephisto's expression tightened.
For a moment—
Silence.
Then Lephisto stepped forward slightly, pride unwilling to bend.
"I challenge you."
A subtle shift.
"Duel me."
The air grew heavy.
Aldrich did not hesitate.
He simply looked at him—
And accepted without a word.
No refusal.
No delay.
Because now—
This was no longer about introduction.
This was about resolution.