When the cloaked Glaster emerged from the shadows, she immediately drew everyone's attention.
The loyal steward Titon even stepped between Glaster and Baron Harold-of course, Titon knew he could not stop her.
But he had to give it his all, at least.
Titon watched the emerging, hooded Glaster warily, his sword clenched in his hand.
"Heh, you finally showed yourself!"
The ice spear in the Blood Scion's hand grew more solid, while the light in his scarlet eyes burned even brighter.
Meanwhile, Baron Harold's face grew younger still. By now, the nobleman looked like a boy.
He understood!
He finally understood!
He had wondered why the Blood Scion had come attacking his home!
It had been Glaster all along!
Yet Baron Harold felt no resentment toward Glaster.
At this moment, Baron Harold, who held honor above all, remembered their Contract clearly: Glaster would give him one chance.
Though he had paid a price, he had truly received that chance-to wield that coveted power just as his ancestors had.
And in some respects, he even needed to thank Glaster.
Thank her for "creating" this battlefield for him.
"Perhaps this is ill-timed.
But Lady Glaster, please wait a moment.
Titon, after I die, take Lady Glaster to the family's secret room. My child is there. You must serve that child just as you have served me.
And Lady Glaster, according to our Contract, you will be that child's teacher."
The boyish Harold drew a deep breath and spoke slowly.
"My lord!"
Titon cried out.
But the young Harold smiled serenely.
"Titon, I am beyond saving!
I am both insecure and arrogant, craving endless glory and hoping to become the center of the world's attention-so I have done many things for which I cannot forgive myself.
I do not deserve to live.
I