Cain truly believed that today, he would breathe his last breath and that all he could do was pray that Ethan and Doran would avenge him, and that his little brothers would look after their mother.

He crashed through the trees toward the clearing surrounding Goldenveil and when he sensed the blade closing on his back, his eyes squeezed shut.

He braced for the end, but his eyes snapped wide in the next second.

Powerful ice spears tore through the air with a piercing whistle, slamming into his pursuers in explosions that sent frozen shards flying in every direction.

Through the swirling frost, he caught sight of Doran and Ethan sprinting toward him, while above the wall, Alice stood with her hands raised, raining ice magic down upon the enemies.

Within moments, more than a dozen of them had fallen and only one still clung to life, writhing in agony on the blood-soaked ground.

A relieved smile spread across Cain’s face as his legs gave out, and he crumpled to the earth.

Almost at once, Alice’s healing spell washed over him, enveloping his battered body in a soft, comforting light.

Doran knelt beside the exhausted apprentice and tugged out the arrows buried in his back, more than five of them.

The healing magic sealed the wound instantly, leaving only dried blood and torn cloth in its wake.

"What the hell happened?" Ethan demanded, his voice low and cold with fury.

Who dared to lay a hand on one of Goldenveil’s most precious talents?

At that very moment, his gaze snapped to the last survivor of the attackers, who was fumbling a dagger toward his own throat.

Ethan moved in a blur, snatching the blade from the man’s trembling fingers and slamming his boot down onto his chest.

"Ah... our Golden Lord won’t let this slide, you pig! He’ll never forget this!" the man screamed.

Upon hearing those words, a cold light flooded Ethan’s eyes.

"Another Golden Lord?" His lips curved into a cruel smile.

Pulling a supreme-quality healing potion from his spatial ring, he tilted the man’s head back and poured the contents down his throat without hesitation.

"You’re going to tell me everything you know," Ethan growled, turning his face toward Doran.

Fortunately, Alice’s magic had worked quickly and cain was already back on his feet.

"Lock him up in the barracks. Have the bodies of our dead recovered for burial, and make sure theirs are burned," Ethan ordered.

It was painful to see Goldenveil lose four good men, and he had never been a kind person toward his enemies.

That bastard would talk, even if Ethan had to rip out every single one of his fingernails and teeth.

His words would honor those deaths.

The three women traded worried glances at the cold expression that had taken hold of Ethan’s face.

A understanding passed between them, and they shook their heads before slipping back toward the mansion.

They needed to prepare a proper gift to help him calm his nerves!

For the rest of the day, Goldenveil remained draped in mourning.

The bodies of its four fallen guards were buried with honors, while the fourteen enemy corpses were cast onto the pyres.

The sole invader still alive was locked away in custody, awaiting interrogation, while the soldiers worked tirelessly to reinforce the defenses around Goldenveil.

Hearing Cain’s, Ethan learned that those men had, in fact, been part of an invading force probing Goldenveil’s defenses, and that they planned to strike once the next winter had passed.

In any other city, news like that would have sparked a wave of fear, yet the citizens of Goldenveil carried complete faith in their Lord.

To them, Ethan’s presence alone guaranteed victory, and many young men stepped forward at once to enlist.

Most were turned away from the guard, since there was simply no room for more.

Four with the best talents were accepted into the ranks, while the rest were funneled into the Goldenveil militia, a force that already numbered two hundred and fifty able-bodied men, each training under Doran once a week.

By the time everything had been settled and night began to fall, Ethan found himself sitting alone with Doran on a stone bench along the sidewalk.

"Were they good men?" he asked, pouring a glass of wine for himself and another for Doran.

The emerald liquid caught the golden light of the setting sun, shimmering faintly inside the glass.

He felt rage. A deep rage.

His heart burned, and every thought circled back to the same image: tearing the damn culprit behind this attack to pieces.

He had built Goldenveil practically from scratch, and with every death that wasn’t from natural causes, his heart bled as if he had lost a brother.

"Yes, my lord. I sent them with Cain because they were some of my best men... only one of them had a family. I’ll arrange the pension they’re owed soon," Doran said, taking a slow sip of the green fairy wine.

Ethan followed suit, letting the sweet liquid melt across his tongue before it slid down his throat, the flavor dancing somewhere between honey and mint.

What counted as an almost divine liquid across the rest of the continent, auctioned off for hundreds of gold coins a bottle, he drank casually here with his captain of the guard.

He had even poured a glass over each of the guards’ graves, a gesture that would have driven many Lords of the Burning Ice Kingdom to madness, for the fame of the green fairy wine had already spread far through their lands.

What kind of madman would waste such precious and rare alcohol on a commoner’s grave?

"Ah..." Ethan sighed, rising to his feet and leaving the half-empty bottle behind with Doran.

"Share it with Cain. He’ll likely be shaken, but he should get over it and turn it all into determination, just as he did after his father’s death."

Doran nodded in quiet agreement with those words, then rose to his feet as well.

Bowing low to his master, he departed, his footsteps echoing off the cobblestones.

Shaking his head, Ethan made his way back to the mansion.

The moment he stepped through the door, excited whispers drifted from a cluster of maids, their lovely faces flushed a pretty pink as they glanced his way.

He smiled back, noting that every one of them already carried loyalty ratings above ninety, and then headed up to his room.

The sight that greeted him there banished every trace of sorrow from his heart and, in the same heartbeat, roused the lion sleeping in his pants.