Chapter 251 Lady Ondine Departs For Steele Family

The dawn that followed Kenneth’s… re-education… in the Steele Family dungeons was crisp and unsettlingly bright. Alaric Steele felt a familiar, dark satisfaction thrumming beneath his skin. He had broken the arrogant whelp, shattered his delusions of grandeur, and planted seeds of terror that would likely haunt Kenneth for years to come. The knowledge that Kenneth possessed a System, whatever its name, added a layer of strategic interest, but for now, the immediate pleasure of utter domination was enough.

He walked through the main hall of the manor, his stride confident, his ruby eyes holding a spark of their usual predatory amusement, now overlaid with a chilling calm. Kara and Ulriya, freshly bathed and clad in immaculate (and notably untorn) maid uniforms, bowed deeply as he passed, their eyes downcast, though he sensed their heightened awareness of his mood. They had likely heard whispers, or perhaps felt the shift in the manor’s undercurrents.

Professor Lilliana Valtor was waiting for him in the grand salon, a tray of untouched tea and pastries before her. She looked weary, her usually sharp emerald eyes shadowed with concern and a lingering embarrassment from the previous night’s events.

“Alaric,” she greeted him, her voice subdued. She had foregone the title ‘Young Master’ since their spar and the subsequent revelation of Kenneth’s disgrace. It felt… inappropriate now, given the power dynamics at play.

“Professor Valtor,” Alaric replied, his tone polite, almost gentle. He gestured for her to sit, though she was already seated. He remained standing, a subtle assertion of his authority in his own home. “I trust Kara saw to your comfort?”

“Yes, thank you,” Lilliana murmured, avoiding his direct gaze for a moment. “The tea is excellent.” She fiddled with the rim of her teacup. “Alaric… about Kenneth. I… I must apologize again for his deplorable actions. It was a gross misjudgment on my part to bring him, to not foresee his… recklessness.”

Alaric waved a dismissive hand. “His foolishness is his own, Professor. You bear no responsibility. Though,” he added, a faint, cold smile touching his lips, “it has provided a rather… illuminating insight into his character. And perhaps his… limitations.”

Lilliana winced inwardly. ‘Limitations indeed. Utterly broken, from what Kara hinted at.’ She didn’t dare ask for details. “Will you… will you truly allow him to leave? After what he attempted?”

“Oh, I always keep my word, Professor,” Alaric said, his smile widening slightly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “He will be released. Eventually. Once Lady Ondine Bellerose understands the… full price of his indiscretion and the value of my continued goodwill.” He paused. “Which brings me to your departure. I assume you wish to return to Jorailia at the earliest opportunity to convey my terms?”

Lilliana nodded, relief evident in her posture. Staying longer in this manor, with the weight of Kenneth’s disgrace and Alaric’s unsettling power, felt increasingly oppressive. “Yes, Alaric. The sooner I inform Lady Bellerose, the better. And my students… they are anxious.”

“Understandable.” Alaric walked towards a nearby ornate cabinet, retrieving a small, intricately carved obsidian disc – one of the Recall Anchors. He turned and presented it to her. “A parting gift, Professor. And a token of our… mutual understanding.”

Lilliana took the disc, her fingers brushing against his. The obsidian felt cool, yet pulsed with a faint, contained energy. “The Recall Anchor you mentioned?”

“Precisely,” Alaric confirmed. “It is keyed to this manor’s defensive array. Should you ever find yourself in dire peril, should Jorailia prove less… accommodating… than anticipated, activate it. It will bring you, and anyone in direct physical contact, back here instantaneously. A one-way trip, I’m afraid, as the artifact expends itself in the process. But a guaranteed escape.”

Lilliana stared at the disc, her eyes wide with a mixture of gratitude and astonishment. This was an artifact of incredible value, a literal lifeline. His condition that she answer his call for aid if needed suddenly felt less like a demand and more like… a reciprocal arrangement, secured by this tangible promise of safety.

“Alaric… this is… extraordinarily generous,” she said, her voice filled with genuine emotion. “I… I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Consider it an investment in a valuable asset, Professor,” Alaric replied smoothly, his gaze lingering on her for a moment. ‘And a way to ensure you’re always within my reach, should I desire your… expertise… again.’ He offered her a charming smile. “Besides, I have a fondness for my former teachers. Especially those who can still offer a… stimulating challenge.”

Lilliana felt a faint blush rise on her cheeks at his words and the memory of their spar. He had a way of disarming her, even after everything. “You always were a flatterer, Alaric,” she said, a hint of her old exasperation returning, though it was tempered with a new respect.

“Only when it’s deserved, Professor,” he winked. “Now, my guards will escort you and your students safely to the border of Steele territory. From there, Jorailia is but a few days’ travel. Convey my terms to Lady Bellerose accurately. I await her… personal visit.”

“I will, Alaric,” Lilliana promised, clutching the Recall Anchor tightly. “And… thank you. For everything.”

“Safe travels, Professor Valtor,” Alaric said with a final, polite nod.

He watched her depart, a thoughtful expression on his face. Lilliana Valtor. An Archmage of considerable power, now equipped with a direct line back to his fortress. A valuable piece, indeed. And Ondine Bellerose… he was rather looking forward to their ‘negotiation’.

The journey back to Lysandra was a somber affair for Lilliana. The initial relief of leaving the Steele Manor was quickly replaced by the daunting task ahead. She had to inform Lady Ondine Bellerose not only of Alaric’s demanding conditions but also of Kenneth’s utter disgrace and imprisonment.

Her young mages were subdued, sensing her mood. They had seen glimpses of Alaric’s power, heard whispers of Kenneth’s folly. The Steele territory, once a distant rumor, now felt like a tangible, slightly terrifying reality.

Lilliana found herself constantly touching the Recall Anchor in her pocket. It was a small comfort, a secret promise of escape, but also a subtle chain, binding her future actions to Alaric Steele’s potential needs. ‘He plays a long game, that boy,’ she thought, a shiver running down her spine. ‘A very long, very dangerous game.’

She also couldn’t shake the memory of their spar. His power, his unorthodox techniques, the sheer audacity of that final ‘gentle tap’ that had unraveled her Archmage-level spell… He was no longer the talented student she remembered. He was something else. Something… more. A force of nature, perhaps, like the elemental thrones she had conjured, but wilder, less predictable, and infinitely more cunning.

The Bellerose Mansion in Lysandra was a testament to old money and established power. Sprawling gardens, marble statues, and an army of impeccably uniformed servants. Lady Ondine received Lilliana in her private solar, a room filled with gilded furniture, intricate tapestries depicting Bellerose triumphs, and the ever-present scent of rare, expensive perfumes.

Ondine Bellerose was, as always, a vision of sophisticated allure. She wore a gown of sapphire silk that clung to her curves, her raven hair styled in an elaborate coiffure, her dark eyes sharp and intelligent. She greeted Lilliana with a warm, almost sisterly smile, though Lilliana knew better than to trust it completely.

“Archmage Valtor! Welcome back!” Ondine exclaimed, rising gracefully from her chaise lounge. “I trust your journey was… fruitful? Did young Kenneth manage to convey my request to Lord Steele?”

Lilliana took a deep breath. This was going to be unpleasant. “Lady Ondine,” she began, her voice carefully neutral. “The journey was… eventful. And yes, Kenneth did speak with Lord Steele.”

She then recounted the events, starting with Alaric’s unexpected acceptance of the trade proposal, then his demanding conditions: Ondine’s personal visit to finalize the deal and her own pledge of aid to the Steele Family. Ondine listened intently, her expression unreadable, though a flicker of something – annoyance? calculation? – crossed her features when Lilliana mentioned Alaric’s insistence on a personal meeting.

“And then,” Lilliana continued, her voice dropping slightly, “there is the matter of Kenneth.”

She relayed Kenneth’s disastrous attempt to charm Fiora Galanis, his subsequent and thorough thrashing at Fiora’s hands, and his current residence in the Steele Family dungeons. She emphasized the severity of the offense – attempting to use charm magic and force himself upon a member of the host family, Alaric’s own cousin.

Ondine’s carefully constructed smile faltered for a moment. Her dark eyes narrowed. “Kenneth… did what?” Her voice was dangerously soft.

‘Foolish boy!’ Ondine fumed inwardly. ‘I send him on a delicate mission, and he indulges his petty lusts and gets himself thrown in a dungeon? And with Alaric Steele’s cousin, no less! The sheer stupidity!’

Outwardly, however, she projected an air of shocked disappointment and maternal concern. “Oh, that impetuous boy! To behave so disgracefully! I am utterly mortified, Archmage Valtor. Please, convey my deepest apologies to Lord Steele and his family. Such an insult… it is unforgivable.”

She paced the room for a moment, her silk gown rustling. “And Lord Steele… he holds Kenneth captive? What are his terms for the boy’s release?”

“Lord Steele indicated,” Lilliana replied carefully, “that Kenneth’s release is contingent upon your… personal visit, Lady Ondine. He expects you to negotiate for both the artifacts and… for Kenneth.”

Ondine stopped pacing, a slow, predatory smile now gracing her lips. ‘Ah. So that’s his game. Using Kenneth as leverage to force my hand. Clever. And arrogant.’ She felt a strange thrill. Alaric Steele wasn’t just a powerful artificer; he was a player. Someone who understood the nuances of power.

She had always intended to meet Alaric Steele eventually. His artifacts were too valuable, his rising power too significant to ignore. Kenneth had merely been a pawn, a tool to open a dialogue. His current predicament, while annoying, was actually… convenient. It provided her with the perfect pretext for a personal visit, a justification for travelling to the Steele territory with a significant entourage.

“Then I must go, of course,” Ondine declared, her voice filled with feigned noble resolve. “I cannot abandon young Kenneth to his fate, however foolish his actions. He is, after all, a guest under my protection, and a talented mage whose skills Jorailia still requires.” ‘And whose potential I might still exploit for my own gains,’ she added silently. Kenneth’s rapid growth, despite his current humiliation, was still a valuable asset in her long-term plans. She needed him pliable, indebted to her for his release.

“And these artifacts, Archmage Valtor,” Ondine continued, her eyes gleaming with ambition. “Lord Steele is truly willing to trade? Even the… specialized ones?”

“He is,” Lilliana confirmed. “Provided you meet his terms.”

“Excellent.” Ondine clapped her hands softly. “Then preparations must be made. A journey to the Steele territory… it requires a suitable escort. One befitting my station, and capable of ensuring our safety through those still-dangerous lands.”

Her mind was already racing. This wasn’t just about artifacts or freeing a foolish boy. This was an opportunity. To assess Alaric Steele firsthand. To gauge his true strength, his ambitions. To see if he could be a valuable ally… or a dangerous rival to be neutralized. And perhaps, just perhaps, to see if the rumors of his legendary handsomeness and… potency… held any truth. A woman of her ambition always appreciated a powerful man, in all capacities.

“I shall depart within the week,” Ondine announced to Lilliana. “Please, make yourself comfortable at the Bellerose estate. You and your students are my honored guests. Rest, recover. Your insights into Alaric Steele will be… invaluable as I prepare.”

Lilliana nodded, accepting the dismissal. She knew Ondine was already plotting. ‘This meeting between Alaric and Ondine… it will be a clash of titans, in its own way,’ Lilliana thought, a sense of foreboding mixed with undeniable curiosity. ‘Two cunning, ambitious, and utterly ruthless individuals. The fate of Jorailia, and perhaps more, might hinge on what transpires in that Steele fortress.’

A week later, a formidable procession departed from Lysandra, heading west. At its head rode Lady Ondine Bellerose, resplendent in dark, exquisitely tailored traveling clothes that accentuated her stunning figure. She projected an aura of regal confidence and subtle, dangerous allure.

But it was the escort accompanying her that truly turned heads and set tongues wagging in the Jorailian capital. This was no ordinary noble retinue.

This was Ondine Bellerose’s secret personal army.

For years, she had been quietly, meticulously building her own power base, independent of her husband’s control, independent of the Bellerose clan’s traditional forces. She had recruited talent, offered patronage, forged secret alliances, and cultivated loyalty through a combination of charm, wealth, and ruthless efficiency. The chaos of the demonic invasion had only accelerated her efforts, allowing her to acquire powerful individuals displaced by the war or disillusioned with the established order.

Her personal guard was a force to be reckoned with.

Leading the mages were seven individuals radiating the undeniable power of Grandmaster rank. Myron Silverhand, a veteran battle-mage known for his devastating fire magic. Sorrell Nightshade, a mistress of illusions and shadow manipulation. Torvin Stonefist, whose earth magic could reshape battlefields. Quinlan Swiftwind, a master of air currents and lightning storms. Glynis Moonwhisper, whose arcane knowledge delved into forbidden lore. Bryony Ironwill, a specialist in defensive wards and force constructs. And Merrick Starseer, whose divinations and precognitive flashes were eerily accurate. Each was a powerhouse, their loyalty sworn directly to Ondine.

Supporting them were twenty-six Grand Mages, each skilled in various schools of magic, forming a versatile and potent arcane contingent.

The martial arm of her force was equally formidable. Four Grandmaster Martialists led the way. Darrick Stonebrow, a hulking warrior whose strength was legendary, wielding a massive warhammer. Thora Ironhide, a female martialist whose defensive techniques were said to be unbreakable. Jorgen Swiftblade, a master swordsman whose speed was blinding. And Fenris Bloodfang, a savage warrior who fought with twin axes and terrifying ferocity.

Seventeen Grand Martialists formed their core, skilled in diverse combat styles, from heavy infantry tactics to assassination and skirmishing.

And behind these elite echelons came a larger body of Master-level mages and martialists, skilled artisans, healers, spies, and a small army of fiercely loyal household guards and servants, all dedicated solely to Lady Ondine Bellerose.

Patriarch Theron Bellerose, Ondine’s aging and increasingly oblivious husband, remained blissfully unaware of the true extent of his wife’s personal power. He saw only a devoted spouse taking a ‘necessary journey to secure vital artifacts for the clan’s protection,’ accompanied by a ‘suitably impressive but not overly ostentatious escort.’ He had no idea that the woman he viewed as a beautiful trophy was quietly forging an empire of her own.

Ondine rode at the head of her impressive force, her expression serene, but her mind sharp and calculating. ‘Alaric Steele,’ she mused, a faint smile playing on her lips. ‘He wishes for a personal negotiation? He shall have it. And he will find that Ondine Bellerose does not come to the table empty-handed.’ She felt a thrill of anticipation. This was more than just a trade mission. This was a meeting of powers. A chance to assess a potential kingmaker… or a king to be unmade.

Her entourage moved swiftly, efficiently, cutting through the still-dangerous borderlands between Jorailia and the Steele territory. They encountered demonic patrols, remnants of defeated legions, and even a few bold Phantom Assembly scouting parties who quickly retreated upon sensing the sheer power of Ondine’s escort. Her Grandmasters dealt with these threats with ruthless efficiency, clearing their path, showcasing the disciplined might of her personal army.

Lilliana Valtor, observing Ondine’s forces from a slightly detached position within the procession, felt a growing sense of unease. She had known Ondine was ambitious, influential. But the sheer scale and power of this ‘personal escort’ was staggering. ‘She commands a private army that could rival a small kingdom’s military,’ Lilliana realized with a jolt. ‘And she keeps it hidden from her own clan, from the Jorailian crown. What is her true game?’

Finally, after several days of hard travel, they reached their destination. The shimmering, rune-etched barrier of the Steele Family territory rose before them, an impassable wall of magical energy. Ondine’s entire force halted, the disciplined ranks waiting silently.

Lady Ondine Bellerose, radiating an aura of calm authority, rode forward alone, stopping just before the shimmering curtain. She didn’t need to announce herself. She knew Alaric Steele would be expecting her. Her gaze swept over the impenetrable barrier, a flicker of genuine respect in her dark eyes. ‘Impressive indeed. Let’s see if the master of this fortress is equally impressive in person.’

She waited, a queen before the gates of a rival power, ready for the negotiations – and the subtle war of wills – to begin.

The Steele defensive barrier shimmered, then a section directly before Lady Ondine dissolved smoothly, creating an opening. Standing just inside, flanked by his ever-present, imposing guards, was Alaric Steele.

He was dressed simply, in dark, well-tailored clothes, but his presence was anything but simple. His ruby eyes, sharp and assessing, met Ondine’s directly. A faint, almost challenging smile played on his lips.

Ondine felt a subtle jolt, an unexpected quickening of her pulse. The rumors hadn’t done him justice. He was younger than she expected, yet radiated an aura of power and confidence that was utterly captivating. There was a raw, predatory energy about him, veiled beneath a veneer of youthful charm, that resonated with her own ambitious, ruthless nature.

‘Well, well,’ Ondine thought, her own smile becoming a fraction more genuine, more predatory. ‘This will be… interesting indeed.’

She urged her mount forward, entering the Steele territory, her formidable personal army waiting silently behind her, just outside the still-open gateway in the barrier. The stage was set for a meeting that could reshape the shifting alliances of a war-torn world.