PREVIOUSLY-
Thomas clapped his hands together. "Thank you, sons-in-law. You understand me more than my own children." He cast a look at Henry and the others before straightening up with mock dignity.
He examined the babies closely. "Brown hair and green eyes—he is clearly a Leonhart. And this one, black hair with green eyes—he's a Tigranclaw."
He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Hmm…"
Suddenly, his eyes lit up with excitement.
"Yes! I have found the perfect names!" he proclaimed. "They are—"
--x—
A glimmer of hope passed across the faces of Edward and Alexander.
"For the Leonhart…" Thomas began, and Alexander puffed his chest with pride.
"He shall be named—Benedict Smash Leonhart!"
Alexander stumbled backward in disbelief while Edward trembled slightly beside him, struggling not to burst into laughter.
Thomas continued undeterred, "Now for the Tigranclaw…" Edward tensed.
"How about… Gorgonius Crank Tigranclaw?"
The duke collapsed to his knees.
Sophie covered her face with both hands while Amelia let out an exasperated sigh.
Dark clouds began to gather outside, the sunlight vanishing as if in horror. Then, a sudden thunderbolt shattered one of the windows.
Everyone turned to stare at the broken window… then slowly to Thomas.
BONK!
Olivia smacked the back of his head. "Old man, I am genuinely astonished by your commitment to terrible names."
Henry threw up his hands, breaking down in a loud cackle.
"Told you! A monkey flying blindfolded could name better!"
Orianne merely gazed at the babies with pity in her eyes.
'Grandma, bonk him again,' Vincent thought, shaking his head with a sigh.
Everyone turned to Olivia, their unspoken plea written across their faces.
She stepped forward calmly. "May I do the naming?"
The brown-haired baby nodded, while the black-haired one just blinked in a silent plea.
Olivia glanced at the boys, their soft faces, their innocent eyes. After a moment, her lips curled into a warm smile.
"Edward and Amelia," she turned, "How does Raphaeldor sound?"
Edward nodded his head while Amelia warmly grinned at her son, a tear escaping her emerald eyes.
"It sounds very beautiful, mother."
Amelia stepped forward, hugging Olivia,
"I am sure, Raphael too likes his name."
Edward too smiled at Olivia, "Thank you for giving our son such a fitting name."
Alexander gave Olivia an outstretched thumb, "Mother-in-law, that was a fantastic name for my nephew."
"Yours?" Sophie folded her arms in a mock-offended, "He is my nephew!"
Alexander pointed to Edward, a grin tugging his mouth, "Well darling, Raphael is my nephew. Isn't it right, Ed?" He tilted his head just enough to make it a challenge.
Edward shook his head in fake-denial,
"You know something Alex?" Edward squinted at Alexander, "Maybe keeping my son away from you is better for his future. I don't want him to sleep through his academy years you see."
The room broke down in laughter as Edward and Amelia softly embraced each other, warmly gazing over their child.
"Now," Olivia turned to the brown-haired infant, "How about, Leonatus?"
"Whoooo!" Alexander blinked once, then leaned back into his chair, pretending to fan himself,
"Gods! You have set the bar too high already."
He grinned, covering his face,
"Sounds like a general, not a baby. How am I supposed to scold him now? 'Go to bed, General Leonatus?'"
For a moment, Alexander went quiet. Then he smiled. "Leonatus... yeah. That's a name that suits our son." He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to hide the grin. "Guess I owe you one, Mother-in-law."
"That is such a beautiful name, Mother!" Sophie squealed, hugging Olivia.
"The children like them." Amelia looked down, smiling at the grinning infants.
"Thank you, Mother-in-law!" Edward and Alexander chorused in relief.
"Grandma, you are so cool!" Vincent gave her a big thumbs-up.
"They're magnificent, Mother-in-law," Orianne added sincerely.
"I was just thinking of those exact names," Thomas mumbled, adjusting his tie. Eyes turned to him with a deadpan stare.
KNOCK!
A firm knock echoed through the chamber.
"Enter!" Thomas called.
An elderly butler appeared, bowing slightly.
"Speak, Jonathan." Olivia gestured.
"Yes, Countess," he addressed Olivia, "the preparations for the selection ceremony have been completed. The staff of Castle Duskrane has gathered in the hall. Should I vacate the space?"
"Why?" Thomas patted Jonathan's shoulder, "It's a joyous occasion. You too must dress-up nicely and prepare a gift for my grandsons."
Jonathan bowed, a small smile spreading his lips,
"I am honoured, Count."
WHACK!
Thomas gave a light slap to Jonathan's shoulder,
"Stop with that bullshit for today! You still haven't met the children, is this how you behave when your friend has a grandkid?!"
"Jonathan," Olivia's lips parted, "See the kids. One day, they too, will call you grandpa."
Tears dripped from Jonathan's eyes, "I-Is that so…"
Sophie enthusiastically slid the crib carefully towards Jonathan,
"Uncle Jonathan," she smiled, "How are they?"
Jonathan only gave a warm smile,
"It is as if I am back in those days when Young Lady Sophie was just born."
He turned to Raphael,
"The Young Duke Tigranclaw also reminds me of Young Lady Amelia."
Amelia smiled as she softly leaned closer to the babies,
"Kids, this is Grandpa Jonathan. Always remain respectful and polite to him."
The infants only slowly blinked at the butler.
The Grand Hall-
Towering stone walls loomed over them, weathered yet regal. The ceiling arched high, carved with swirling patterns that seemed to move when one wasn't looking. Intricate mouldings traced the arches, and old grooves in the walls marked the places where torches once stood vigil.
Sunlight streamed through towering stained-glass windows, casting ribbons of emerald, sapphire, and gold across the floor. A quiet sense of reverence filled the air—cool, ancient, and touched by a faint scent of candle wax and aged wood.
At the centre stood a circular platform, simple and elevated slightly, as though waiting for something grand.
A small gathering of nobles awaited the Duskrane family.
"I greet the Count and the Dukes." A tall, yet lean man stepped forward, dressed in a Persian Blue suit. His dark blue hair fell into a long ponytail, cerulean eyes like the colour of ocean, glimmering with recognition.
"Duke Raventhorn," Thomas greeted him with a handshake.
SLAP!
Alexander patted the man's back with casual affection. "How're you doing, Caelum?"
"Tie your hair properly," Caelum retorted with a smirk. "I am doing fine."
Edward stepped in, extending a hand. "So, it's your second child?"
Caelum sighed,
"Edward, for the last time, it's my third child." He let out a small laugh,
"You even gifted her a rare mithril wand."
Edward blinked in realization, "Oh. Anyways, it's good that our children are the same age."
"That definitely is good," Alexander wrapped his arms around both of them, "I even heard that Richard is also expecting a son soon."
The expression changed from joy to awkward,
"That…" Edward spoke, "Let's just hope for the best."
"I agree with you." Caelum nodded.
"Same." Alexander sighed.
"Count Elric Farrow of Eldenridge."
"Baron Halwin Merrin of Hollowmere."
"Countess Orla Wynn of Windvale."
"Baron Rowan Alder of Hearthstead."
"Lord Garrick Bramble of Emberhollow."
"Baroness Yvaine Cress of Norrowood."
Though powerful, the Duskranes, Tigranclaws, and Leonharts were social outliers—heretics in the eyes of the Fafnir Empire. Only nobles from distant corners, maintained ties with them. The rest remained wary, curious how they still thrived with such limited connections.
Countess Wynn whispered to Baroness Cress as they sipped wine.
"I always feel like we owe them."
"They're the only reason we have trade routes with the central territories," Cress nodded.
"They don't ask for favors. They just help quietly," Wynn murmured, swirling her glass.
"Even at the time my husband… they are big-hearted, I suppose."
Their eyes drifted to Duke Raventhorn, standing tall.
"At least he remains friendly with them," Wynn muttered.
Cress sighed, "He's one of the four Imperial Pillars. No one dares question him. The three alone make up for three out of four imperial pillars."
At a distance, Olivia drew a faint smile on her lips. Taking a sip of her wine, she glanced at the ladies.
"Children, you too, have a big-heart."
CLAP! CLAP!
Thomas clapped, drawing attention.
"To all our honoured guests—thank you for sharing in our joy."
Applause filled the hall.
"Let us begin… The Selection of Steel!"
Olivia calmly walked beside Thomas, "Orianne,"
She glanced at Orianne who responded with a simple nod.
SNAP!
The view changed to the county's training grounds. Swords, spears, halberds, axes, daggers, staffs, wands even quills and trumpets stood beside coins and grimoires on the stone platform.
However, at the end of it all, lay a white mask. The oval mask had long tusks that reached its thin eyes while red poppies bloomed all over its ivory skin.
As the guests awed at the interesting phenomenon. Both Dukes and Duchesses brought their children.
Meticulously, the parents held their children, wrapping them as safely as possible in their embrace.
"As you know," Henry's voice boomed from the other side of the platform,
"As soon as we activate the ritual, whatever weapon or skill the child has a talent or affinity for, will coat itself in aura or mana."
He leaned closer, winking, "The darker the colour, the larger the talent."
"So, without further wait," he gestured to Sophie and Alexander, "we will put my elder nephew Leonatus Leonhart to the centre."
Sophie closed her eyes with a slow exhale before stepping towards the stone platform, her eyes full of worry mixed with determination.
As she carefully placed Leonatus at the centre, her steps faltered as she glanced back at him once before returning to Alexander.
"Darling," she whispered, "Even if our Leon does not have remarkable talent in anything… We will still raise him with all the love and care we can."
Alexander clasped a hand around her shoulder, pulling her close,
"Don't worry darling, even if our son does not have talent, I will make sure to turn him into fine man with a great character."
Sophie only rested against his shoulder as Henry slammed the stone platform, a mysterious parchment glowing white in his hand.
"Let's begin!"
As the paper turned to ashes, the platform began rumbling. Then, a stillness hung around the area, like a bowstring pulled taut.
A smile crept across Vincent's lips,
"This is interesting." He whispered to himself.
Suddenly, the platform began to tremble again.
Caelum's eyes widened in shock at the scene before him,
"What the—?!"