Ansley returned to the grandmaster's quarters after fulfilling the command given to him earlier. When he entered, the room was already busy with preparation for the evening's banquet. Several servants surrounded Zhangxuan, each attending to a specific task with careful precision. One adjusted the inner layers of his crimson robe, making sure the fabric fell perfectly along his frame. Another stood behind him, arranging his long black hair so that it rested neatly over his shoulders. A third presented a selection of ornaments and jeweled accessories, waiting for his choice.
The atmosphere inside the chamber was orderly but tense. No one dared to speak unless necessary.
Zhangxuan noticed Ansley's arrival almost immediately. He did not need to say anything. A slight shift of his gaze was enough for the servants to understand. They bowed and withdrew from the room, closing the door behind them and leaving only the two men inside.
Ansley stepped forward and bowed deeply.
"Grandmaster, the arrangements have been completed. The young lady has obtained her soul weapon."
Zhangxuan's expression did not change. He adjusted the cuff of his sleeve as though the information held little importance.
"Has she?" he said calmly. "Among the five relics presented, which one turned out to be unfortunate?"
Ansley answered carefully.
"She did not choose, Grandmaster. The Blade of Accsentia responded to her."
For the first time, Zhangxuan paused.
"Accsentia…" he repeated quietly. "It chose her?"
"Yes," Ansley confirmed. "The other relics remained silent. The blade reacted on its own."
"That is… unexpected."
Ansley remained kneeling. After a moment of hesitation, he spoke again.
"Grandmaster, this servant begs forgiveness for asking, but why allow such an artifact to acknowledge her? You are well aware of the young lady's previous disposition."
Zhangxuan walked toward the window, his hands resting behind his back.
"Alfor," he said.
The name caught Ansley off guard. It had been years since he heard it spoken so casually by Zhangxuan.
"We both know Alteraz harbors resentment toward me," Zhangxuan continued. "Do you believe a person can discard resentment overnight?"
Ansley frowned slightly. "Grandmaster, this servant does not understand."
Zhangxuan turned to face him.
"Do you think Alteraz has lost her memories?"
The question struck him like a sudden blow.
"Lost… her memories?" Ansley repeated, confusion clear in his voice.
No one had informed him of such a thing. He had not been told that Alteraz claimed amnesia. Earlier, he had simply thought her behavior was strange, less hostile, less sharp, but he assumed it was restraint.
Then something connected.
"Grandmaster…" he said slowly, realization dawning. "Earlier today, the young lady called me Alfor again."
Zhangxuan did not interrupt.
Ansley's thoughts raced. Alteraz had not used that name in years. After the night she cut ties with them, she refused to acknowledge it, as if that part of her life had been erased by choice.
If she remembered that name...
Then either she remembered everything.
Or she had never forgotten.
A subtle curve formed on Zhangxuan's lips.
"Now you understand."
Alfor.
That name belonged to a life Ansley had buried. When he had been a fugitive slave under the Montefeliass family, hunted and branded. Zhangxuan had been the one to free him, to see value where others saw only disgrace. From that day forward, Ansley gave him absolute loyalty.
Alteraz had grown up around them in those earlier years. She knew him as Alfor before the world knew him as Ansley. But after Zhangxuan's ascension as grandmaster, and after the truth regarding her parents' deaths surfaced, everything changed between them.
The memory of that night returned clearly.
Rain poured from the sky as she stood before him, trembling but defiant.
"You must stop this," Ansley had told her firmly. "You do not understand what you are doing."
"And you do?" she shot back. "You think obedience is the same as loyalty?"
"The grandmaster has protected you countless times!"
"And who asked him to?" she demanded. "Did anyone ever ask what I wanted?"
Her voice had cracked then, though her eyes remained fierce.
"If I die pursuing my own answers, then so be it. I will not live as someone's protected shadow."
He had tried to reason with her, but she had already made up her mind.
Before leaving, she looked at him one last time.
"Alfor, tell Zhangxuan this...we are nothing to each other from now on. As gratitude for what you once did for me, I will keep my silence. But do not expect anything more."
Then she disappeared into the rain.
Back in the present, Ansley felt something tighten in his chest.
"If she remembers that name," he said carefully, "then either she has not lost her memories at all… or she is deceiving us."
His voice lowered.
"Grandmaster… if she poses even the slightest threat to you—"
He did not finish the sentence, but the meaning was clear.
It did not matter who she was. It did not matter that the blade had chosen her.
If Alteraz endangered Zhangxuan's life or reputation, Ansley would kill her without hesitation.
His loyalty was absolute.
"She is my disciple," Zhangxuan said evenly.
Ansley bowed his head, but his resolve did not waver.
"If she intends harm," he continued quietly, "this servant will eliminate it."
Zhangxuan poured wine into a glass and took a slow sip.
"If she intends harm," he replied calmly, "she will not succeed."
He set the glass down.
"If she wishes to act, then I will allow her the stage. A master does not fear his disciple's performance."
"Let her reveal her own intentions."
Ansley bowed deeply. "This servant understands."
He withdrew to prepare the carriage.
In her chamber, Alteraz stood before the mirror while Atila adjusted the final details of her gown. The deep red fabric fit her perfectly, highlighting both her elegance and the quiet strength in her posture. For a moment, she simply stared at her reflection, as if trying to recognize the person looking back at her.
"My lady," Atila said softly, "the grandmaster is waiting."
When Alteraz descended the staircase, she saw Ansley already outside in formal knight attire. Then her gaze shifted to Zhangxuan.
He wore red as well, though his attire carried the authority of his rank. There was no ornament excessive, no detail misplaced.
Alteraz stepped forward first.
"Good evening, Master."
He acknowledged her with a nod and entered the carriage. She followed.
Inside, they sat facing one another as the carriage began to move. Silence filled the space between them. Zhangxuan looked out the window, composed as ever. Alteraz tried to remain calm, but the quiet weighed on her.
Alteraz was not good at speaking her mind, but awkward silences unsettled her even more. Minute by minute, she began to fidget, until the restlessness transformed into something sharper. The embarrassment faded, replaced by a calculating gleam in her eyes, like a predator sizing up its prey. Her expression hardened, deliberate, as if a plan had taken root in her mind, one that would bend the situation subtly to her advantage.
Finally, she spoke.
"Master, may I ask you something?" I'll take it slow, let's start with this.
"You already are."
She suppressed a sigh.
"I am your direct disciple, correct?"
"You are."
"Then tell me," she continued steadily, "how does my position differ from the others?"
Zhangxuan shifted his gaze toward her.
"You know the answer."
"I do," she replied. "But I want to hear it from you."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"And why is that necessary?"
"Because words matter," she said. "Especially yours."
There was intention behind her calm tone.
"Alteraz," he said quietly, "what do you truly seek?"
She did not look away.
"I want them to know who I am" she said softly but those words are heavy with meaning, not just as your disciple, but as the one who stands beside you, the one whose presence will not be ignored. My place is clear, and it will shape how they see us both. Let them see it clearly… who truly stands beside the Grandmaster.
The carriage continued forward as her words settled between them. There was a subtle tension in the air, a silent duel of wills. She was a flame, quietly positioning herself. He was a blade, calm and precise, capable of cutting through anyone who misstepped.
After a long moment, Zhangxuan allowed the faintest smile to touch his lips, unreadable and deliberate.
"Very well," he said. "But remember this, standing beside me means standing under scrutiny. Do not falter."
"I will not," she replied.
Outside, Ansley tightened his hold on the reins.
If she ever turned the blade that chose her against Zhangxuan, he would be the first to strike her down.
And the banquet had not even begun.