THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR

Eldoria's central square was a kaleidoscope of life. A grand fountain, a shimmering crown, sat at its heart, its aquatic jewels dancing in the fading sunlight. Cobblestone pathways, like veins, radiated outward, feeding the vibrant tapestry of red-roofed buildings. These architectural gems, a blend of ancient grandeur and modern charm, stood as sentinels, guarding the square's spirit.

Lush greenery framed the scene, a soft counterpoint to the city's pulse. People moved like colourful fish in a bustling aquarium, their laughter and chatter a melodic undercurrent. Children, like playful dolphins, splashed at the fountain's edge, their joy a contagious spark.

David, a solitary figure, navigated this human sea. His mind, however, was far from the present. Two days had passed since he'd left his women, and a longing as deep as the ocean tugged at his heart. He vowed to drown their worries in a tide of joy upon his return, a promise sealed with a mental kiss.

The thought of their smiles and laughter filled him with warmth as he passed through the lively crowd. Each step brought him closer to the estate, but his heart was already there, eager to reunite with those he cherished. The beauty of Eldoria's square faded into the background, his mind focused on the joyous reunion awaiting him.

David's voice, a whisper carried by the wind, penetrated the veil of shadows. "Luna," he summoned. A soft, obedient hum answered, a sonic echo in the silent expanse.

"Guide me home," he commanded. Since inhabiting this noble shell, he'd been a prisoner within these walls. Today, he'd tasted the world beyond, a fleeting sip from a vast ocean.

An obsidian thread, a sigil of guidance on the floor, materialized from the darkness. Luna's silent compass, a beacon in the labyrinth of the city. David was a transient in this world, a ghost haunting a borrowed body.

David wasn't planning to stay forever in the castle, aware of the disasters foretold by the novel's plot. In truth, he would have preferred to remain within the castle walls, idly enjoying the luxury and fooling around. But with his knowledge of the future, he couldn't afford to stay idle and wait for his demise.

Bound by blood to the De Gor name, yet a stranger in this land, he marched forward. His allegiance was to those he cherished, a shield against the tempestuous tides of fate. As Luna's shadow thread led him through the city's labyrinth, his mind was a battlefield, strategizing his next move.

The vibrant tapestry of Eldoria, a masterpiece of human creation, blurred at the edges of his vision. The future, a shrouded enigma, demanded his immediate attention. With Luna as his silent guardian, he would navigate the uncharted waters ahead, his heart a compass steadier than any obsidian sigil. Yet, a shadow loomed larger than the city itself. Threats, unseen and unknown, lurked beyond Luna's protective embrace. The realization was a cold, hard truth. To safeguard those he cared for, he must ascend, his strength a fortress against the coming storm.

A fortress of stone and steel emerged from the twilight, a monolithic sentinel guarding the heart of the realm. Its imposing silhouette, a stark contrast against the fading sky, was a testament to human ingenuity and the relentless pursuit of power. Massive, iron-clad doors, scarred by time but defiant against its ravages, stood as the gateway to this fortified domain.

Above, a crown of battlements bristled with life, a silent vigil maintained by shadowy figures. Below, rows of armoured warriors, like statues of living metal, stood impassive, their helms casting eerie shadows. The setting sun transformed their armour into liquid gold, a shimmering spectacle of martial might.

Behind the imposing doors, a steel maw, the portcullis, lurked, ready to devour any who dared to breach the castle's defences. The overall aura was one of invincibility, a silent threat to any who might challenge its authority.

David, a solitary figure, stood as an observer to this spectacle of power. The realization hit him like a cold wave. Without the ethereal grace bestowed upon him by the Wolf's Grace skill, escaping the castle's iron grip would have been a fool's errand. The fortress was not just a building; it was a living entity, breathing power and demanding respect.

As David approached the gate, he wondered if the guards would stop him, just as they had at the Elder Noble's mansion. He sighed, contemplating whether he might need to use force to gain entry. To his surprise, the guards at the entrance stiffened as soon as they saw him, standing at attention with fists to their chests in a salute. "We welcome the Lord's son," they proclaimed.

Finding this strange but not unwelcome, David walked past them, still feeling out of place in the noble role he now inhabited.

The courtyard, a verdant oasis in the heart of stone, unfolded before him. A labyrinth of stone paths snaked through a tapestry of green, where nature had dared to claim a corner of this fortified world. At its centre, a sentinel of stone stood watch, a silent guardian of the De Gor lineage.

The castle walls, once stark and forbidding, were softened by the embrace of ivy, a green caress against the cold stone. Lanterns, like fireflies trapped in iron cages, cast dancing shadows upon the flagstones. And beneath the canopy of ancient oaks, stone benches whispered tales of countless hours spent in contemplation and shared secrets.

A profound sense of peace washed over David. Here, within these stone walls, history had found a home. He was a mere guest in this grand narrative, a character yet to write his chapter. But for now, he allowed himself a moment of quiet reflection, to absorb the essence of this place, to feel the weight of its legacy settling upon his shoulders.

David stood before a masterpiece sculpted in time. A being of ethereal beauty, captured forever in marble, commanded his attention. Six wings, like frozen whispers of flight, unfurled from its ethereal form. Each feather, a delicate masterpiece, seemed to shimmer under the sun's caress. Draped in a stony shroud that hinted at celestial origins, the figure exuded an aura of timeless authority.

A hooded face, a mask of mystery, guarded secrets of ages past. Yet, in the stillness of its gaze, there was a resolute power, a promise of protection. Two swords, twin flames of justice, were clasped in its ethereal hands. Runes, ancient script of power, etched their way along the blades, promising a magic woven into steel.

"Goddess of Reservation," David mused, his eyes on the statue. In the novel, the goddess is shrouded in mystery, and the only thing that was clearly depicted was that she was the most powerful of the sovereigns.

His reverie was shattered by a whirlwind of joy. Shay, a radiant comet, hurtled towards him, her laughter a sweet melody. "Young master!" she cried, her arms outstretched. In that moment, the world narrowed to the warmth of her embrace, the stone goddess forgotten, replaced by the living warmth of human affection.

Shay's voice, a siren's call through the fog of his thoughts, pulled him back to the present. Worry, etched into her eyes, was a stark contrast to the serene beauty of the courtyard. A pang of guilt shot through him as he returned her embrace, a silent apology for his brief absence. In that moment, the world contracted to the rhythm of their shared breath, the castle walls melting away.

He traced delicate patterns on her back, seeking solace in the familiar scent of her hair. Time stood still, a suspended moment in the grand tapestry of existence. But the world, ever insistent, demanded their attention.

Shay broke free, her gaze a deep, penetrating ocean. "What happened?" Her voice was a gentle inquiry, yet it carried the weight of unspoken questions. He yearned to share his journey, to lay bare the secrets of his soul, but the time was not ripe. "I'll tell you everything," he promised, his voice a husky caress.

Desire, a wild creature, stirred within him. He leaned in, their lips a brushstroke on the canvas of intimacy. The world, once again, contracted, this time to the electric dance of their senses. But reason, a sobering companion, intervened. Shay, her face a canvas of conflicting emotions, pulled away.

"Not now," she whispered, her voice trembling. Denial, a bitter pill, was her choice. Yet, his touch lingered, a phantom heat on her skin. He pressed his advantage, a playful predator. "And why not, my little maid?"

Her mind raced, a battleground of desire and duty. "The Earl," she began, her voice steady despite the turmoil within. "He requires your presence. It is urgent." The weight of her words pulled him back to reality.

David's playful demeanour shifted as he sensed the seriousness in her tone. "The Earl?" he repeated, the weight of responsibility settling over him. "Very well. Lead the way, Shay."

David's thoughts began to run, why did the Earl require his presence the moment he stepped into the castle, by chance did wind of his exploits reach his ear? Only time would tell as he made his way to meet the great general of the Solarain army

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