The celebration continued long into the evening.
Music echoed through the halls of the Nocturne Estate as nobles, knights, and soldiers raised their mugs in celebration.
Laughter replaced the sounds of war.
For the first time in months...
The Third Order was at peace.
Servants moved through the grand hall carrying roasted boar, fresh bread, and barrels of wine while musicians played lively melodies from the center of the chamber.
The birth of Fenrick Eryxson Nocturne had become more than a celebration for one family.
It had become a celebration for an entire kingdom.
The future suddenly felt brighter.
Riven stood near one of the balconies overlooking the festivities.
A mug rested in his hand.
His gaze wandered across the hall.
Six months ago...
Most of these people had feared him.
Some had distrusted him.
Others had questioned why a human-turned-werewolf deserved to remain among them.
Now...
Many nodded respectfully as they passed.
Some even bowed.
It still felt strange.
"You've become quite popular."
A calm voice sounded behind him.
Riven turned.
A young man, perhaps a year older than himself, stood there with neatly combed red hair and sharp emerald eyes.
Unlike most warriors present, his uniform bore very little armor.
Instead, a finely tailored dark coat embroidered with silver patterns rested over his shoulders.
Pinned to his chest...
A crest.
A silver wolf resting beneath a crescent moon surrounded by five stars.
House Velmora.
One of the Five Great Noble Houses of the Third Order.
If House Veilbourne was the Crown...
House Nocturne the Sword...
House Duskryn the Eyes...
House Umbraxis the Shield...
Then House Velmora was known throughout the kingdom as the Mind.
For centuries, they had produced the Third Order's greatest strategists, governors, diplomats, and military advisers.
Wars were often won by warriors.
But kingdoms endured because of minds like theirs.
The young man smiled politely before extending his hand.
"Zoldick Velmora."
"The heir of House Velmora."
"It is an honor to finally meet you, Riven Thorn."
Riven looked at the offered hand for a moment before smiling.
He accepted it.
Their handshake was firm.
"No need for formalities."
"Just Riven."
Zoldick chuckled.
"I've heard plenty about you."
"The boy who defeated Rigor Valen."
"The warrior who survived Aurelion Kharos."
"The one who changed the course of the war."
He shook his head with genuine admiration.
"I wanted to see for myself whether those stories were exaggerated."
"And?"
Riven asked with a grin.
"They weren't."
The two shared a laugh.
Around them, several nobles quietly watched.
The heir of House Velmora rarely approached someone without purpose.
Sure enough...
Zoldick's expression became serious.
"There is something I'd like to ask."
Riven tilted his head.
"What is it?"
Zoldick inhaled slowly.
"...Would you honor me with a duel?"
Silence.
Nearby conversations stopped.
Several nobles turned toward them.
Even Eryx looked over from across the hall.
Nyss blinked.
Soren nearly spat out his drink.
"A duel?"
Roran repeated.
The hall fell unexpectedly quiet.
Everyone waited for Riven's answer.
Then...
Something strange happened.
Riven smiled.
Not politely.
Not nervously.
He smiled with genuine excitement.
His heartbeat quickened.
His blood stirred.
An unfamiliar thrill coursed through his veins.
A proper duel.
Not a battle to survive.
Not a war.
Not revenge.
Just two warriors testing themselves.
Six months ago...
He would have refused.
He had always disliked fighting unless he had no other choice.
But now...
The idea excited him.
It felt...
Natural.
Deep within his mutated core...
Silver energy shimmered.
Black energy remained still.
And the faint blue primal energy pulsed once.
Almost eagerly.
Riven's smile widened.
"...You've got it, bro."
For the first time...
Zoldick's composed demeanor broke.
He laughed.
A genuine laugh.
"I had a feeling you'd say that."
Across the hall...
Nyxara quietly watched the exchange.
Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
Riven had accepted far too quickly.
That wasn't the old Riven.
The primal essence inherited from Rigor...
It wasn't merely strengthening him.
It was beginning to shape his instincts.
And somewhere deep within his soul...
A great wolf opened one eye.
Watching.
Waiting.
Hungry for the coming duel.