The voice of the elder of Elo was soft as he gave his greeting, barely more than a whisper. And he already knew who Aden really was. The instant the door shut behind him, Aden could drop the pretense of being the Grandmaster.

“Thankfully, yes,” Aden replied. He leaned back slightly in his chair as he looked up at the elder. Despite his relaxed pose he still projected a stern arrogance, by design. “I did wish to say I was sorry for what happened at Elo’s territory.”

That had been a disaster. The Yesters had jumped through the Wall of Light and ravaged the city’s environs. When they had rampaged, nothing was left, not a single blade of grass.

A disaster . . . if it had not been planned, that is.

“Thank you,” the elder replied with feigned politeness. “We have not forgotten what Delrose did for us that day, nor any other day.”

Hollow words, with no respect in them.

“Then perhaps you could answer me now,” Aden said, and his words carried a hard edge as he continued. “Long ago, four houses settled in Biflten. The Red Delrose also took on the mantle of the Biflten mansion.”

It was a story every child knew – the origin of Biflten, why the other three houses stood below Delrose. Aden’s gaze stayed fixed on the elder as he spoke.

“Biflten was a wasteland then as well, and the Duke of Biflten had a responsibility to protect his people. And there were the people that the three houses had brought with them from the warm region.”

He tapped on the desk.

“The three houses each received a sword, vowing they would protect everyone, correct?”

“Yes,” the elder said. His tone stayed civil, but suspicion was beginning to glint in his eyes.

“Is Elo still keeping that covenant?” Aden asked with a laugh.

“Your Majesty,” the elder answered quickly, as though knowing where Aden would go next, “this is a misunderstanding.”

“What is it that I am misunderstanding?” Aden said, leaning closer. “The Yesters attacked Elo’s territory. Explain to me how the Delrose knights from Biflten mansion could attack them faster than Elo’s own swords.”

The elder looked shaken for a second, then composed himself and replied.

“First,” he said, “you know that the location of Elo’s secret base is very well hidden. There is a good reason for it. It . . . it is because of our divine object.”

Aden leaned back in his chair again. Was the elder about to share that secret?

“In truth,” the elder continued, “Elo’s divine object is composed of two parts, which act as a pair.”

The bracelet? Aden’s eyebrows raised slightly. He knew what Elo’s divine object looked like – or thought he knew, apparently.

“And you’re telling me the other half is at Elo’s secret base?” he said. He laughed again, and the elder visibly flinched. “Thank you for sharing something interesting, but . . . a misunderstanding?”

Aden’s laughter stopped short.

The room suddenly got cold. It wasn’t just subjective – when the Duke of Winter became angry, the temperature around him would bend to the divine power.

The elder huddled in his clothes, but it didn’t help. The cold seemed to seep right through them into his skin, as though the air meant to freeze him.

“Elo’s Wall of Light doesn’t allow their enemies to cross,” he said.

“Yes,” the elder stammered, “but there was a problem with the other half- “

The elder’s response felt prepared, so Aden put up a hand to stop it.

“I might have believed it,” he said, “if I hadn’t been there.”

The memory was crystal clear in his mind. His own divine power made him sensitive to it. He could see the Wall of Light’s actual state. The Wall had looked no different than any other day. But the Yesters had breached it like it didn’t exist.

He remembered how they’d run at it – not like they expected to hit a solid wall, not like they were preparing to launch themselves at it. No, they’d run at it as though expecting to run through it like mist.

“Within that Wall of Light,” Aden said, smiling coldly, “did you have someone ready to greet the Yesters as guests?”