"I'm sorry, Young Master Seven. You're not allowed to enter."
Two knights stood firm in front of the throne hall door as they blocked the entrance with serious expressions.
They did not raise their weapons or act hostile. If anything, they looked more conflicted than anything else.
Yet even if they had never seen the seventh child in person before, the moment they laid eyes on him, they understood who he was.
Behind him were two knights and a cute maid.
And his eyes were in the shade of both gray and blue which was different from the usual Hart bloodline's signature eye color.
Seven Hart.
"Not allowed?"
"I apologize, Young Master, but—"
"Is it wrong for a son to greet his father?"
"Please don't say such things, Young Master. But… we still can't let you enter without the Archduke's direct order."
"Permission…"
He paused and stared at the pair of large sealed doors.
'Was my request not granted…?'
He thought.
Still, looking at the knights in front of him, he frowned.
After all, they were not being disrespectful. In fact, the strange part was that they were respectful.
Even when he entered the territory, no one stopped his carriage. The gatekeepers simply stepped aside. Civilians did not throw him any strange looks, and not a single guard tried to block the path.
That should not have happened.
A child sent to the exiled mansion was not supposed to be allowed back inside the capital until they have reached sixteen in age.
That was one of the oldest rules in the main estate.
Which means…
"Young Master… even if your exile status has been revoked, we still need the Archduke's word to open these doors."
"...Tch."
He clicked his tongue.
After a while, he ran a hand through his hair.
So much for Plan A.
And apparently, Plan B was crumbling too.
"...What now?"
He muttered under his breath.
He glanced at Iria, but the moment their eyes met, she quickly looked away like she was not supposed to see anything.
Then he looked at the two knights that accompanied him here, which were the two knights guarding the exiled mansion.
But both only averted their eyes and pretended to suddenly be really interested in the floor.
"..."
Hah…
With a quiet sigh, he turned around without another word.
'Plan C.'
He thought.
Though, to be honest, Plan C was a plan but not really a plan.
It was just... winging it.
***
In the Coast of the Seventh Continent, Othre
Whiff…
The wind howled across the rocky shores and its salty breath whipped against the skin of a lone figure standing at the edge with a sword firmly gripped in his hand.
The Archduke.
Adrian Ethan Cade Hart.
The name carried weight across the land, but here, on this windswept coast, it felt strangely small.
His expression was blank, but the way his fingers tightened around the hilt of the sword and the way the Zaen energy exuded in a chaotic manner from his body suggested a storm was stirring inside him.
Beside him, a group composed of six stood.
They all shared the same design of cloaks and the same half-mask to hide their identity, but each one had a different design.
The first one was a wolf.
Then a tiger.
A bear.
Lynx.
Eagle.
Snake.
In the center and the very front stood Ethan, who reached for his back and also took a half-faced mask with also a different design.
Lion.
But instead of wearing it, he turned his head slightly and locked eyes with the figure wearing the wolf mask.
"You. Stay behind."
The one with the wolf mask did not respond but just nodded in silence.
Toss.
Ethan flicked the lion mask through the air.
It spun once, twice, then landed in the wolf-masked figure's hands.
The figure held it, frozen, as if unsure what to do and it was obvious that there was hesitation in his grip.
Ethan did not say another word.
He simply turned toward the vast stretch of ocean ahead, eyes fixed on the horizon.
He raised his right hand.
His sword glowed and crackled with cyan-colored Zaen energy as bolts of lightning that pulsed along the blade.
Swoosh.
He swung the blade.
The air roared, the energy howled, and in that split second, the sea parted.
It was split perfectly in half.
***
In the Seventh Kingdom, Othrelis
A cyan carriage rolled to a stop at the main gates.
One of the guards walked up, knocked politely, and asked to see the inside only to be greeted by the sight of a pale, motion-sick boy leaning over and puking his lungs out.
The guard blinked, silently closed the door, and quickly waved them through without another word.
Compared to the Main Duchy, nobody really gave a damn about the carriage's design here.
People in Othrelis were used to seeing nobles come and go with all kinds of flashy rides.
Also, fancy paint jobs and noble crests did not mean squat to the guards here as if they thought it was dangerous, they were still gonna check.
But in this case… a puking kid was not exactly threatening.
Hah…
Inside the carriage, Seven wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and leaned back.
He glanced at the maid sitting across from him.
"Iria."
It was the first time he spoke during the entire trip, and Iria flinched at the sound of his voice.
"P-Pardon, Young Lord?"
"How much Zevi do we have left?"
Her eyes widened, and she gave him an awkward but apologetic smile.
"Ahh… Young Lord. But… you already used the entire mansion's budget."
"...?!"
He froze in place.
He remembered that he spent it all on random stuff just to store them inside the subspace like a hoarder.
But.
'You're telling me it was the mansion's budget and not my allowance…?'
He thought.
Still… even if Zevi was the only currency around, it was not all just coins.
There were also Zevi Cards.
Magical card type items like ATM.
It held no weight, and each could hold up to a hundred Zevi inside. Basically a rich person's coin pouch without the jingling.
"The card?"
Surely, even if he nearly escaped being exiled, there was no way a child of the Archduke would not have one of those lying around, right?
"Ah!"
Iria gasped.
She pulled a black card from her sleeve.
"But… it doesn't have any balance stored in it though, Young Lord."
Seven stared at her.
Dead inside.
'Fudge…'
But before he could curse more, a soft knock echoed through the carriage's door.
Knock.
The door opened.
"Young Master Seven…"
A familiar voice said.
It was the knight and the same one who accompanied him out shopping before. He peeked in with his helmet under his arm and a polite expression but a little nervous.
"...We have arrived."
Seven blinked, sighed, and slowly sat up straight as he fixed his half-messy hair with one hand.
His body still felt like garbage after the long ride, and his stomach was basically on life support.
Step.
Still, he stepped out of the carriage.
He froze.
The city stretched out before him was a whole different vibe from the Duchy or anything he had ever seen back on Earth.
Bright stone streets shimmered under the afternoon sun.
People bustled about everywhere and vendors shouted over each other.
Colorful stalls crammed into narrow alleys with lanterns floating lazily above to light the shaded parts of the plaza.
There were children who raced through the crowds, women in flowy robes who tried to haggle for spirit fruit, armored knights who casually munched skewers, and a man who juggled five flaming orbs on a crate while a small crowd tossed coins his way.
"..."
Seven just stood there at the base of the carriage with one foot on the cobbled stone road.
But Iria and the other two knights remained silent.
After all, this was the first time Seven Hart had ever set foot in the Kingdom since the moment he opened his eyes in this world.