There was no room to refuse.
Not in that world.
The Capital's Magic Academy was opening its gates, and with it, a rule no heir could break: attend… or disappear from the political board entirely.
Sophia knew that.
That was why she didn't argue.
But that didn't mean she agreed.
Keeping him in the Duchy meant keeping him alive.
In the Capital… he would be exposed.
For four months, the heirs would live there. Train. Be observed. Measured. Remembered.
And then return.
If they survived.
The Douglas Duchy was not just another noble house.
It was a frontier.
A wall.
The place where the kingdom stopped being civilized… and started fighting for its existence.
But even that power had a weakness.
Food.
Erwin understood that quickly.
No matter how many soldiers you had… if they didn't eat, they died.
And in the Duchy, every harvest was a silent war.
Because when the seasons changed, the forest breathed.
And what came out of it… were not animals.
They were things.
Migrating creatures.
Hunters.
Beasts searching for territory.
And the fields—open, filled with farmers—were the perfect target.
So yes.
Even growing wheat… required soldiers.
But that wasn't the real problem.
The problem had a name.
Emily.
Erwin closed his eyes for a second.
It wasn't his memory.
It was an image.
A screen.
Pixels.
A scene repeated hundreds of times.
A ruined hill.
Darkness falling from the sky.
And a sword.
Descending.
Without hesitation.
Piercing through him.
He opened his eyes.
His chest was tight.
—I have to change this… —he murmured.
Because if he didn't…
he wasn't traveling to the Capital.
He was walking toward his execution.
The family didn't help either.
Not even close.
The Duchy was broken.
Not openly.
Not with swords.
But with something worse.
Preferences.
Duke Laurence didn't hide it.
Martha and Caleb were his choice.
Sophia… was an obligation.
A duchess too powerful to ignore.
Too useful to replace.
Too dangerous to love.
And in the middle—
him.
The rightful heir…
in the wrong place.
The day of departure made it clear.
Lusian walked toward the main carriage on instinct.
The Duke's.
The center of power.
Sophia stopped him with a simple gesture.
She didn't raise her voice.
She didn't need to.
—You will travel with me, Lusian.
Erwin didn't respond.
He couldn't.
Because he understood.
Instantly.
Laurence would ride with Martha and Caleb.
Sophia… with him.
Two carriages.
Two lines.
One family divided even on the road.
The escort was absurd.
Five hundred soldiers.
Albert.
Garet.
Full formation.
It wasn't an escort.
It was a declaration.
Erwin watched from a distance.
—Too much… —he murmured.
Not for bandits.
For something worse.
Intrigue.
Poison.
Mistakes.
Things that don't stop with swords.
The carriage he entered was not ostentatious.
But it was… alive.
He felt it the moment he stepped inside.
The floor vibrated faintly.
Like a pulse.
He sat down.
Velvet yielding under his weight.
Light filtered in softly, unreal.
And then he noticed it.
There were no horses.
He frowned.
Looked down.
He felt it.
A core.
Mana.
Condensed.
—This… —he murmured— is not technology.
—Applied magic —Sophia corrected without even looking at him—. Far more reliable.
Erwin leaned back.
The carriage began to move.
No shaking.
No sound.
As if it were floating.
—Of course… —he thought—. Another world.
Another system.
Different rules.
Sophia watched him.
Not like a mother.
Like something more precise.
More dangerous.
—You've changed, Lusian.
It wasn't a question.
It was a diagnosis.
Erwin felt a chill crawl down his spine.
—I'm still the same.
A lie.
They both knew it.
But neither of them said it aloud.
The journey began.
One week.
Seven days.
Too much time to think.
And in that world…
thinking was dangerous.
Because the more he understood—
the clearer the problem became.
The Capital was not a battlefield.
It was a board.
There, no one attacked directly.
There… you were eliminated without ever seeing it coming.
But there was an advantage.
Only one.
The heroes…
were not heroes yet.
Emily…
was not that person yet.
That meant something.
The fate was not complete.
Not yet.
It could still be broken.
He wouldn't fight.
He wouldn't stand out.
He wouldn't make mistakes.
He would hide.
Among nobles.
Among noise.
Among irrelevant names.
Being invisible…
was survival.
But there was something he couldn't ignore.
Fate…
was not passive.
It did not wait.
It reacted.
When the Capital's walls appeared on the horizon—
everything inside him stopped.
White.
Towering.
Impossible.
They were not just defense.
They were power.
History.
Control.
The carriage did not stop.
But his breathing did.
Something closed inside his chest.
It wasn't just fear.
It was recognition.
Like seeing a place you already knew…
but never wanted to return to.
—Here… —he thought— is where I die.
And yet—
he did not look away.