Jude looked at Torvin and replied.
"Why is House Ravencross looking for an ice bear?"
His tone remained perfectly steady, almost casual—yet deliberately dismissive, as though Torvin's earlier question had never existed. The cold morning air carried Jude's voice cleanly, letting his indifference cut just as sharply as any blade.
Kael stepped forward immediately, bristling. The boy's robe shifted with the movement.
"That is House Ravencross business," Kael snapped. "Just answer the question."
Torvin exhaled quietly, a breath that came out as a foggy plume in the morning frost. His eyes lowered for a moment, not out of defeat, but out of tired understanding.
"Young master Jude," he said with a resigned tone, "you really didn't see anything."
Jude tilted his head slightly.
"I never said we didn't."
The answer made Kael's eyebrows shoot up, his temper rising again. Jude continued, his voice calm, as though speaking of something trivial:
"We had an encounter with an ice bear. But it's dead now."
Kael's eyes widened.
"Dead? Why?"
Jude blinked slowly, unimpressed. "Obviously it tried to attack us."
He spoke with a slice of sarcasm sharp enough to sting, and it landed perfectly—Kael's jaw clenched, his pride pricked.
"You—!" Kael stepped forward again, fists tightening.
But Torvin raised a hand.
"Young master Jude," he interrupted carefully, redirecting the moment before it escalated further. "I understand the situation now. But… can we have the ice bear core?"
The head knight stepped in before Jude could respond.
"Why?" he asked. "The ice bear core belongs to House Avernus now."
Torvin straightened. His voice remained calm but hardened with the authority of someone accustomed to command.
"House Ravencross has been tracking that bear even before you encountered it."
The air shifted. Not in temperature, but in tension.
A silent standoff.
Knights on one side, beast summoners on the other.
Cold morning light. Frost clinging to the edges of armor, steam rising softly from breaths.
Jude took a single step forward, closing the distance between himself and Torvin. The motion was subtle, but it commanded attention instantly.
"And what will House Ravencross give in return," Jude asked, "for the ice bear core?"
Silence pressed into the clearing.
Torvin's expression tightened—not in irritation, but in interest. His eyes studied Jude for a heartbeat too long.
He is not like any other boy I've met, Torvin thought. Confident. Direct. Fierce eyes for someone so young. Yes… he is an Avernus after all.
Torvin spoke carefully.
"And what would House Avernus like in return?"
Kael immediately exploded.
"Teacher, you can't seriously be considering this!"
But Torvin's voice cut him down with gentle authority:
"Quiet, Kael. And listen. You might learn one or two things from young master Jude."
Jude didn't waste a moment.
"A thunderbird core," he said.
Torvin blinked. Once. And then he laughed—not mockingly but in genuine disbelief.
When he spoke again, his tone sharpened.
"Young master Jude… do you realize what you are asking for?"
A thunderbird core—rare, dangerous, far more valuable than a low-tier ice bear.
But Jude stood firm.
"A reasonable compensation," he replied. "Since the ice bear wasn't easy to deal with. My people got injured fighting it."
The firmness in his voice carried the weight of someone who had seen battle long before this life. The knights behind him straightened unconsciously, bolstered by Jude's sharp confidence.
Suddenly, a surge of mana flickered around Torvin.
It wasn't aggressive—but it was powerful, enough to make the frost on the ground shift as if a breeze had passed. The mana curled like an invisible beast, testing, measuring.
Torvin's eyes narrowed.
"And what," he asked slowly, "makes you think I can't just take the core if I wanted to?"
The knights responded instantly.
Blades half-drawn.
Stances tightened.
Boots dug into the snow.
Their bodies angled protectively toward Jude.
Everyone knew the truth—even the knights themselves.
If Torvin truly chose to take the core by force, he could.
He was stronger. More experienced. Backed by a House of beast summoners known for deadly magical creatures.
But Jude didn't flinch.
He didn't reach for a weapon.
He didn't step back.
He only looked up at Torvin with the calm eyes of someone who understood people more than they understood themselves.
"You wouldn't," Jude said.
Torvin's eyebrow lifted.
"And why is that?"
"Because you," Jude answered, "are a man of honor."
The mana dissipated instantly.
Not slowly.
Not reluctantly.
But completely—as though Jude's words cut its foundation apart.
Torvin blinked once, taken off guard. Then he laughed softly—this time in genuine, unguarded amusement.
"Honor," Torvin repeated, shaking his head with a quiet chuckle. "Very well, young Avernus."
He straightened fully, placing a fist lightly over his chest in formal acknowledgment.
"House Ravencross accepts."
The knights behind Jude loosened their stances, though their eyes remained cautious. The morning sunlight filtered through the snow-covered branches, casting a silver glow over both groups.
Kael, however, was fuming silently—shocked that his teacher agreed so easily, and even more shocked that someone his age had negotiated on equal footing with a Ravencross master.