Chapter 10: Duchy of Inferna [1]
The moment we set foot in the duchy’s lands, I began to feel the breath of civilization on my neck.
But nothing had prepared me for the main castle itself.
The place he said we’d arrived at wasn’t a simple building. It was like a mountain forged by human hands.
Ivory towers stretched toward the sky.
Countless windows shimmered under the pale light of the winter sun.
Dark blue banners flew from the rooftops.
It was power and wealth made flesh.
In every stone block, you could read the history of generations. In every carving, the riches of conquered lands.
This place wasn’t just draped in magnificence—it was sculpted from magnificence itself.
When the giant oak doors swung open, almost without a sound, stepping inside was like entering another world.
The biting frost and the wild scent of the forest were instantly replaced.
A new scent took over—a mix of polished marble, the wax of burning candles, and that indescribable smell of wealth that hung in the air.
The place we entered felt less like a hall and more like the main chamber of a temple.
The floor beneath our feet was veined black marble, so polished that the reflections of the hundreds of crystals on the massive chandelier above us shimmered like a field of stars at our feet.
Before my eyes could even adjust to the overwhelming scale, two servants moved as one, bowing respectfully before us.
Their movements were so synchronized, their expressions so detached, that they resembled well-oiled automatons more than living people.
"Welcome, Young Mistress Iris. Welcome, Lady Elara."
As their voices echoed in the domed ceiling of the hall, their gazes inevitably shifted to me.
In that moment, I saw a flicker of true emotion behind their professional masks:
Pure shock and suppressed concern.
My red eyes, my coarse white hair falling to my shoulders, and the bear pelt I wore, stained with blood and dirt—I was a screaming anomaly in the midst of this perfect symmetry and cleanliness.
They weren’t just frightened of me; they seemed unable to comprehend how my very existence could be allowed in this sacred space.
We had arrived at the duchy. It was a massive building dripping with splendor.
The moment we stepped through the door, servants bowed respectfully, greeting Iris and Elara.
"Welcome, young mistress."
Then they looked at me, standing behind them. My red eyes, my white hair, and the bearskin I wore seemed to have startled them.
"Do you have a guest, young mistress?" they asked, trying to understand what was happening.
"This is my guest, Cassian. Have him taken to a guest room. Make sure he gets a shower and a meal."
One of the servants stepped forward, a professional but distant expression on her face. "Follow us, Master Cassian. We will show you to your room."
I just nodded.
Leaving Iris and Elara’s side, I followed the two servants who were guiding me.
We passed through the massive entrance hall and entered a long corridor, its walls covered with paintings and embroidered tapestries. My footsteps disappeared into the soft, blood-red carpet beneath me. For a body used to walking on the frozen earth of the forest, this was like walking on clouds.
The pale winter sun filtering through the windows made the dust motes in the air glitter like gold, reflecting off the metal parts of the sconces on the walls. Armored statues stood guard at every corner; though their eye sockets were empty, I felt as if their gazes were fixed on me.
This palace was not just a structure; it was a living, breathing monument to power.
After the sterile, cold walls of Dr. Aris’s laboratory and the ruthless, wild nature of the forest, this was a completely different universe. An scent of wealth and civilization I couldn’t comprehend had seeped into everything.
Finally, they stopped in front of a large door adorned with wooden carvings. One of the servants opened the door and stepped aside. "This is your room, Master Cassian."
My breath caught as I stepped inside.
The room was unlike anything I had ever seen. In the center stood a massive bed with a white, fluffy duvet that resembled a snowdrift. In one corner, a fireplace carved from marble kept the room warm, the logs within crackling softly. At the other end of the room, a glass door opened onto a small balcony overlooking a snow-covered garden.
The other servant opened one of the closets. It was filled with clothes far more elegant and clean than the pelt I was wearing.
"We have prepared clean clothes for you. The bath is in the next room; hot water is available. Please take a shower and get dressed. Young Mistress Iris will see you later. Until then, we ask that you rest in your room."
I just nodded, not saying a word.
They both gave a small curtsy, left the room silently, and closed the door behind them.
For a moment, I just stood there, frozen in the middle of the room. Loneliness had been my best friend since the lab, but the loneliness here was different.
It was safe... and overwhelming.
I walked slowly to the bathroom. The inside was even more luxurious than the room itself. There were metal faucets and a smooth, white tub, things I had never seen before. Hesitantly, I turned one of the faucets. The heat of the water was a shock to my skin, which was used to the freezing air. It was a pleasure so intense it was almost painful.
I stripped the bearskin from my body and tossed it aside. It had been my only shelter in the world, but now it looked like a dirty, primitive relic.
As I stepped under the hot water, I felt the dirt, blood, and exhaustion that had accumulated on my body over the last eight days—maybe more—wash away. The water seemed to be carrying away the memories of the forest, the rage of the gorillas, the frost of the nights.
This wasn’t just a physical cleansing; I felt a part of the weight on my soul wash away with the water.
When I got out of the bath, I chose the simplest clothes from the closet: a pair of black trousers and a loose, white shirt. Even the soft touch of the fabric on my skin was a foreign sensation.
I looked at my reflection in the mirror. My white hair fell damply onto my forehead. My red eyes glowed like an anomaly in this luxurious room. Most of the wounds on my face and body had closed thanks to my regenerative ability, but the bruises on my pale skin were still there.
Who was I? What was this being living inside this body?
"Cassian..." I whispered. Even the name felt foreign in my mouth.
I sat in the armchair opposite the fireplace and lost myself watching the flames.
Elara’s skeptical gaze wouldn’t leave my mind.
Casting magic without a mana core...
Killing a beast that even a warrior who had completed their Second Ascension would struggle with...
She was right. Every part of the story I told contradicted itself.
Iris’s innocence and compassion were my shield for now, but would the leader of this place, the Duke, be as merciful as a young girl? I doubted it.
If I wanted to survive here, I had to be much, much more careful.
Meanwhile, in another wing of the palace, Iris was practically running towards her mother’s private study.
Her mother, Duchess Seraphina, was a woman known for her beauty and intelligence, who had as much say in the running of the Duchy as her husband. Iris knocked on the door and impatiently burst in.
"Mother!"
Duchess Seraphina, who was sitting at a writing desk by the window, her auburn hair tied in an elegant bun, looked up. A warm smile appeared on her face. "Iris, my sweet. How was your hunt? Did Elara push you too hard again?"
Iris threw her arms around her mother’s neck. "The hunt... the hunt was incredible! But the hunt wasn’t the incredible part!"
Seraphina returned her daughter’s excitement, stroking her hair. "Calm down, my little storm. Sit down and tell me everything from the beginning."
Iris sat down on one of the armchairs and, out of breath, began to recount what had happened. She explained how they had found the tracks of the Silverback gorillas, how they had lost control while trying to lure them into a trap, and how the beasts had fled into the depths of the forest.
"...And just then, we heard a scream, Mother. A terrifying scream. When we got there, the gorillas had a boy cornered! Because of us! We had unknowingly driven the beasts right to him. He was all alone, wearing nothing but a bearskin."
The smile on Duchess Seraphina’s face had faded, replaced by a look of concern. "Gods above! Is the boy all right?"
"He’s all right, mostly," Iris said. "But that’s not the incredible part. Before we could intervene, he defeated one of the gorillas by himself! He... he burned it, Mother. With flames! But Elara says he doesn’t have a mana core. How is that possible?"
Seraphina’s brow furrowed. This was the definition of impossible. A mana core was the source of a mage’s power, their engine. Casting magic without a core was like trying to live without a heart. "Is Elara certain?"
"Yes. She didn’t feel any mana fluctuations from him. Just a pure burst of energy that appeared in the brief moment he used the magic. On top of that, his hair is pure white, and his eyes are blood-red. He says he doesn’t remember anything. He just woke up in the forest."
The Duchess was silent for a moment, weighing what she had heard. The gaps in this story were as vast as a black hole. "So what did you do?"
Iris took her mother’s hands. "I brought him here, Mother. I invited him as my guest. I couldn’t just leave him there like that. It was our fault he was hurt. Please, allow him to stay here. Please talk to Father."
That last sentence revealed the real issue.
Duke Kaelan, unlike his wife and daughter, was a man known more for his pragmatism and skepticism than his mercy. The security of the Duchy came before all else, and a child with no past, no identity, and unexplained powers would be a threat in his eyes, not a guest.
Duchess Seraphina took a deep breath. "You know how hard it will be to convince your father of something like this, Iris. He won’t want an unidentified person within the castle walls, especially one with so many abnormalities."
"But he’s just a boy!" Iris burst out, desperation in her voice. "We have to give him a chance. Maybe he’ll regain his memory. If we throw him out on the street, he’ll die!"
Seraphina saw the fiery compassion in her daughter’s eyes. It was the same fire she’d had in her own youth. She didn’t want to break her daughter’s kind heart, but at the same time, she understood her husband’s concerns.
"Alright," she finally said, her voice soft. "I will speak with your father. I will explain the situation to him in the most suitable way. But I can’t make you any promises, Iris. Whether Cassian stays or not will depend on what your father feels when he sees him, and on the answers Cassian gives us."
Iris’s face lit up. She knew how powerful her mother’s persuasion could be. For now, that was enough. "Thank you, Mother! Thank you so much!"
Seraphina smiled at her daughter again, but the clouds of worry inside her had not dispersed.
A memory-less boy with white hair, red eyes, who could use fire magic without a mana core...
This boy was either an innocent victim sent by fate, or the first sign of a storm about to break over the Duchy.