Chapter 445.5 - Interlude Xander 1

The porcelain teacup touched the saucer with a soft click.Xander sat in the drawing room of Crowley Manor, enjoying the rare peace of the afternoon. The tall windows offered a clear view of the estate's carefully maintained gardens, where the late-morning sun warmed the blooming plants. Across a low mahogany table sat Elena Crowley, her posture perfectly straight, sipping a dark, fragrant tea imported from the eastern coast—something that would have been impossible to get in Floria once, but now simply another sign of how much things had changed lately.

The manor was unusually quiet. Devon had taken it upon himself to show Sonya the expanded districts of Floria, eager to introduce her to the town he would one day rule. Nick was elsewhere, gallivanting through the forest with his band of misfits. The servants had mostly been dismissed for the day, and only a skeleton crew necessary to keep the manor running was left, all far away from this room.

"The blend is excellent," Xander noted, breaking the comfortable silence.

"A gift from a merchant hoping to secure lower tariffs on silk," Elena replied with a faint smile. "I accepted the tea and doubled the tariff. They will learn eventually.”

Xander offered a low, appreciative hum. He had spent enough time around the matriarch of House Crowley to respect her ruthlessness. She possessed a warrior’s pragmatism wrapped in velvet, a trait she had clearly passed down to at least one of her sons.

"They make a striking pair," Elena observed, setting her teacup down. She didn't need to specify who she meant. Her maternal instincts were sharp, and she had watched Devon and Sonya interact since their arrival. "My son looks at her with a reverence I have rarely seen him offer anyone outside this family.”

"Devon is an honorable young man," Xander said evenly. “Sonya is an honorable young woman. They complement each other.”

Elena folded her hands in her lap, fixing the Grandmaster with a piercing look. "She introduced herself as your Maid, but the bond between you feels much more paternal than professional. I am a mother, and I recognize the look of a parent watching their child leave the nest.”

Xander closed his eyes briefly, taking a slow, measured breath. He rarely spoke of his personal history, as the legends of the Grandmaster of the Sword were steeped in blood and pain.

Yet, sitting across from Elena, he felt a rare urge to be transparent. If Devon and Sonya were truly intertwining their fates, the Lady of the House deserved the truth.

"I have prepared a dowry for her," Xander said plainly.

Elena’s eyebrows lifted. A dowry from a man like Xander, arguably one of the wealthiest and most influential people in Alluria, would be nothing short of incredible. "That is a generous gesture for a Maid.”

"She is far more than that," Xander finally admitted, leaning back in his chair. He looked out the window, his mind drifting back across decades of conflict. "And the wealth is not a gift, but her inheritance, kept in trust until she came of age.”

Elena remained silent, allowing him the space to explain.

"Before she came into my service, Sonya was the heir to the Cold Storm," Xander continued, his tone turning clinical and detached. "Her grandfather was the Pirate King, a man who ruled countless coastal towns with absolute authority, until he overstepped, and the Crown considered his armada an existential threat to maritime trade. I was sent to dismantle it.”

Xander turned his gaze back to Elena. "I executed her parents, slaughtered her grandfather’s royal guard, and finally, I struck the Pirate King down on the deck of his own flagship. As he bled out, he asked for only one concession: to spare his granddaughter.”

Elena absorbed the revelation without a flinch. She had lived a hard life before settling in Floria, and the world’s brutality did not shock her. “You agreed and took her in.”

"I gave the dying man my word," Xander nodded. "I brought Sonya to Alluria and provided her with the finest tutors, a safe haven, and a purpose. Shaped her into a woman able to navigate the world’s treacherous currents without relying on a blade. I care for her deeply, Elena. But I am also the man who orphaned her.”

"Does she know?" Elena asked softly.

"She knows," Xander confirmed. "We do not talk about it, but the truth is the foundation of our relationship. It is a complex bond, forged in duty and mutual respect.”

Elena picked up her teacup, her expression thoughtful. He could see her weighing his confession against the bright, genuine smile she had seen on Sonya's face when Devon spoke to her.

"The past is a heavy anchor, Grandmaster," Elena finally said, taking a sip. "But it seems she has chosen to sail forward rather than drown in it. If Devon is the wind she wants to catch, I will not stand in her way. Should they become serious and decide to marry, House Crowley will welcome her. Her lineage, and the way it ended, will not be a barrier.”

"Thank you, Lady Crowley," Xander replied, his broad shoulders relaxing as the tension eased. He rose from his chair and offered a crisp bow. "Your understanding does you credit. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must take my leave for the afternoon. There is an old acquaintance in your town I need to visit.”

"Give Arthur my regards," Elena said, completely unsurprised. “He’s been enjoying his retirement too much for me to bother him personally, so I haven’t seen him in a while.”

Xander gave a faint smirk and turned, walking out of the drawing room.

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As he left the manor grounds and walked through the lively streets of Floria, he observed rapid growth, the influx of merchants, and the overall sense of prosperity that filled the town. It was a thriving place, completely different from the turbulent politics of Alluria.

As he traveled south, the paved roads turned into packed dirt, and the dense timber buildings gradually thinned out into rolling agricultural fields.

He walked for a few miles until he arrived at a meticulously maintained farming estate. The fences were perfectly straight, the fields were expertly irrigated, and the farmhouse sat on a gentle rise, offering a clear view of the surrounding lands.

Sitting on the wide front porch in a sturdy rocking chair was a man who seemed completely out of place amid the peaceful view.

Arthur, known in the annals of the kingdom as The Roaring Fang, was not the kind of person many would have expected to find in a place like Floria, especially long before it became what it was today.

He was also waiting for him.

Xander stopped at the property line without flaring his aura; the two men could sense each other from across the town effortlessly.

As he stood there, his senses brushed against the farmhouse, where he could feel a vibrant presence. It was a girl, likely Arthur's adopted granddaughter. More interestingly, Xander's attunement to the sword immediately recognized the harmonic resonance of her mana.

That kind of martial blessing was strictly regulated and fiercely guarded by the ruling family. A girl in the middle of nowhere bearing such a class was a political anomaly that would often require immediate intervention from the Shadows.

Xander completely ignored it. It wasn’t his concern, and he had no desire to fight his old comrade, who was simply protecting his legacy just as he had.

"Arthur," he greeted, his voice carrying easily across the yard.

The old warrior got up from his rocking chair, his joints cracking loudly. He leaned on the porch railing, narrowing his eyes. "Xander. I figured you'd come sniffing around eventually. The city must be boring if they send the Grandmaster out to check on my cabbages.”

"I have no interest in your harvest or the girl hiding in your kitchen,” Xander replied evenly. "I need a private word.”

Arthur's jaw tightened at the mention of Rose, but he nodded slowly. "Fine. But not here. I don't want the livestock getting spooked.”

The two men vanished simultaneously.

There was no sound of displaced air, nor any dramatic explosion of mana. They simply ceased to be in the farmyard and reappeared ten miles away, standing in the middle of a vast, sweeping sea of tall green grass. The wind howled across the open plains, rustling the stalks in endless, undulating waves.

Arthur landed heavily, his boots sinking slightly into the soft earth. He crossed his thick arms over his chest, aura humming with a dangerous electrical charge. "Alright, Xander. We're alone. If you're here to drag me back, or if you're here to enforce some royal edict on my granddaughter, you'd better draw your steel now.”

"Lower your hackles, Arthur. I told you, the girl is none of my concern," Xander repeated, keeping his hands loosely at his sides.

The two fought on the same battlefields in their youth, though they were never close friends. Arthur was a blunt instrument who stopped advancing after settling down, while Xander never let his skills falter, continuously growing until he could almost see the Divine Path.

"Then why did you come looking for me?" Arthur demanded, the electrical charge fading slightly.

"I came to ask you about Nicholas Crowley," Xander stated.

Arthur blinked, clearly caught off guard by the pivot. The defensive tension in his broad shoulders dissolved into confusion. "Eugene's boy? What about him?”

Xander took a slow breath, carefully formulating the question. The topic he was broaching touched on the darkest, most closely guarded secrets of the world.

"I watched that boy defend the Tower of Alluria," Xander began, his tone deadly serious. "I saw him manipulate the ether with skill that men ten times his age fail to grasp. He crystallized his soul, commanded the genius loci against a Greater Demon, and outmaneuvered an Archmage. He is brilliant. Terrifyingly so.”

"The boy is a genius," Arthur agreed, shrugging. "He always has been. Eugene told me he was reading books about heroes of the past before he was tall enough to reach the top shelf in the library.”

"Genius is one thing," Xander pressed. "But true mastery takes time, a perspective built over decades. Nick's progress defies natural logic. I need you to answer me honestly, Arthur, as a man who watched him grow up.”

Xander fixed his eyes on the old warrior, trying to make him understand how significant this was. "Is he truly Nicholas Crowley? Did you ever notice a gap? Did he wake up one day fundamentally different from the day before? Did the child of Eugene and Elena suddenly disappear, replaced by something wearing his face?”

Arthur looked at the Grandmaster, the weight of the questions gradually sinking in. He frowned, scratching his bearded chin as he sifted through years of memories.

"No," Arthur finally replied with confidence.

"He's Eugene and Elena's son. Through and through. I watched him grow up. There was no sudden shift, no overnight change, beyond what you’d expect from a kid receiving an unexpected Class. He just learned faster than anyone I've ever seen. He absorbs concepts, breaks them down, and incorporates them into his foundation in real-time. It’s scary, sure. But his personality, his loyalty to his family, his stubborn streak... that's always been there.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes, studying Xander's stiff posture. "Why are you asking me this? You think the boy is a demon in disguise?”

"Not a demon," Xander murmured, the tension finally easing from his back. He looked out across the rolling grasslands, a heavy, ancient weariness settling into his features. "An anomaly from beyond the stars, beyond the Void.”

Arthur frowned deeply. "That’s tavern talk. Myths.”

"It is a myth built on bloody historical precedent," Xander corrected quietly, looking away. "It is rare, exceptionally so, but it happens. A soul from a different reality slips through the cracks of the ether and overwrites a native consciousness. They bring alien logic, bizarre knowledge, and a terrifying rate of progression. And almost without fail, they bring catastrophic ruin.”

Xander turned back to Arthur, his eyes cold and pragmatic. "They lack a fundamental connection to our world. They view our people as stepping stones, our laws as inconveniences. They become abominations. If Nicholas had been one of them... if you had told me today that the child you knew disappeared when he received his class…"

"You would have killed him," Arthur realized, the charge humming back to life around his fists.

"Without hesitation," Xander admitted openly. "I would have drawn my blade the moment I saw him next, regardless of the aid he provided in Alluria. The kingdom cannot afford an unbound anomaly, not now.”

Arthur stared at the Grandmaster for a long, tense moment. Then, he let out a loud laugh, shaking his head as the electrical aura disappeared completely.

"You're a paranoid bastard, Xander," Arthur chuckled, crossing his arms. "But I suppose that's how you've survived this long. You don't have to worry about Nick. He's a native son. He might be powerful enough to shake the foundations of your precious equilibrium one day, but he'll do it because he cares about the people standing behind him, not because he views the world as a game.”

"That is a profound relief to hear," Xander said, and he meant it. Nick was a vital asset and Devon’s brother. Having to execute the boy would have shattered the Crowley family and likely sparked a regional civil war, given Eugene's temper and the numerous allies he’d gathered.

"Eugene's rise to Prestige finally freed me from my guard duty," Arthur said, turning his gaze back toward his distant farmhouse. "I'm retired, Xander. I spend my days teaching Rose and growing vegetables. The future of this kingdom rests on the shoulders of your apprentice and his brother now. Let them carry the weight.”

"They are already carrying it," Xander said quietly. "And they are moving faster than anyone expected.”

"Good," Arthur grunted and gave a curt nod. "If you're sure the boy isn't some kind of monstrosity, then leave my land. The sun is high, and I need to water the tomatoes.”

Xander allowed a rare, genuine smile to break through his stoic facade. He bowed slightly, honoring the old warrior's request. "Enjoy your retirement, Arthur. You have earned it.”

With a silent exertion of will, the Grandmaster of the Sword folded the space around himself and disappeared, leaving Arthur alone in the vast sea of grass, more relieved than he could honestly admit, even to himself.