In a flash, one month had finally reached its end, and the dreaded time to move Ares to the nursery had arrived. Beatrix gazed at her son nestled in her embrace, her eyes brimming with unshed tears that threatened to spill. She planted a tender kiss on his forehead, her lips lingering as if trying to imprint this moment into eternity before whispering words that trembled with emotion.
"My love! You must grow strong like your father, but please—I beg you—don't inherit his obsessive training habits." She winced even as she forced a smile, the expression strained.
With hands that shook, Beatrix reluctantly handed Ares over to Junia, who had been assigned as the infant's devoted maid during his stay at the nursery. "Take care of my boy, Junia!" Beatrix's voice boomed with desperate intensity, her smile carrying a warning that Junia would never dare take lightly—it was the smile of a protective mother.
"Yes, my lady! You can be certain I'll guard the young master with my very life," Junia responded in her usual energetic tone, though her voice carried an undertone of nervous determination. The entire room fell into an oppressive silence as Junia offered her final respectful farewells to both Beatrix and Matilda before departing with her precious cargo.
Junia descended from the room with Ares cradled protectively in her arms, two imposing guards flanking her. They reached the main hall of the building, where another figure awaited—a hooded person whose face remained hidden in shadow. Without uttering a single word, this mysterious guide led them down a winding staircase into what appeared to be a basement carved from stone.
At the center of the chamber stood a towering rectangular frame that seemed to pulse with dormant energy. Beside it sat an ornate podium supporting a crystalline screen that glowed with ethereal light. The hooded figure approached the screen with reverent precision, their fingers dancing across its surface with practiced movements.
Suddenly, an otherworldly sound resonated through the chamber—like the universe itself taking a breath. The frame at the room's center began to flicker and shimmer, and as though the center were a blank canvas awaiting an artist's touch, ethereal blue lights began to swirl and coalesce, forming what could only be described as a portal.
Junia stood transfixed, her heart hammering against her ribs, but she steeled herself and stepped forward. With one leg placed deliberately before the other, she carried Ares in her most protective embrace and plunged through the swirling energy. The sensation was like diving through liquid starlight—her guard followed closely behind, his face pale but determined. As they emerged on the other side, Junia staggered as though the very ground beneath her feet had shifted to a different reality.
When Junia raised her gaze to survey their destination, her jaw dropped in awe and terror at the sight that greeted her. Before them rose a massive wall constructed of obsidian-black stone that seemed to drink in the light around it. The wall towered thirty feet high, its surface smooth as polished bone, and at its center stood two colossal iron doors that looked capable of withstanding tremendous force.
The group moved toward these gates with measured steps, their footfalls echoing ominously in the silence. A deep, grinding creak split the air as the massive doors began to swing open slowly, revealing the nursery that lay within.
As they passed through the threshold, Junia and her guard were struck speechless by the architectural marvel before them. At the center of the enclosed compound stood a building that resembled a miniature castle, its spires reaching toward the sky. Surrounding this central structure were six distinct chambers, each emanating an aura of barely contained elemental power that made the very air crackle with potential.
From the castle's ornate entrance emerged a woman whose presence commanded immediate attention. She possessed the trademark obsidian hair and eyes of the Eisenklinge bloodline, but her physique was formidable—built like a warrior with muscles that spoke of countless battles. A sword hung at her waist, and two men trailed behind her. Despite her intimidating bulk, she possessed an undeniable beauty that seemed to radiate danger and allure in equal measure. A wide, predatory grin stretched across her face, revealing teeth that gleamed.
The moment Junia's eyes fell upon this imposing figure, she immediately bent her head in terrified submission. Unable to bow fully while carrying Ares, she remained bent as her guard dropped to the ground in complete prostration. Their voices rang out in perfect, fearful unison: "We greet the Lady of the Nursery!"
Any pure-blooded member of the Eisenklinge family, even those not holding the patriarch's throne, commanded absolute respect. While branch family members also deserved courtesy, disrespecting a pure-blood was a transgression punishable by death—for they carried the most sacred essence of the family's ancient bloodline.
Upon hearing their trembling greetings, the lady erupted into booming laughter that seemed to shake the very foundations of the compound. "Hahaha!" She slapped her stomach as waves of mirth consumed her, each laugh echoing in the enclosed space. "For heaven's sake, ease up! I'm not like those other pompous fools who expect you to grovel and lick their boots clean!"
Her words were meant to comfort, but Junia and the guards knew better than to relax their vigilance around a pure-blood. They were branch family members, and one cardinal rule had been burned into their minds during their rigorous training: never, under any circumstances, show disrespect to a pure-blood member. The consequences were simply too dire to contemplate.
The lady gradually reined in her laughter, wiping tears of mirth from her obsidian eyes before continuing with theatrical flair. "Welcome to the nursery of young masters—or if you prefer our more intimate designation, 'the Cradle.' You'll be trapped within these walls for eight long, grueling years, so we might as well learn to tolerate each other's presence." Her grin turned predatory as she introduced herself with the confidence of someone who held life and death in her hands.
"I am Veltrissa. Within these walls, I am known by many names, but there are two titles you may use to address me." She raised two fingers, then lowered them as she enumerated her roles with obvious relish.
"The first is High Matron of the Cradle, and the second is Warden of the Cradle. Choose whichever title doesn't make you stutter with fear." Her laugh was sharp. "Now come with me—let me show you around your new home."
As they walked deeper into the compound, Junia heard the massive gates grinding shut behind them with finality. When she turned to look, she could see family guards manipulating the very iron of the gates through elemental mastery, their hands weaving complex patterns that fused the metal into an impenetrable barrier. The family's obsession with secrecy and security meant that this location was more fortress than nursery.
"Those six chambers surrounding the central castle," Veltrissa announced, her voice carrying across the courtyard, drawing Junia's attention away from her dawning realization that she wouldn't see those gates open again for eight years. "Those are the elemental shrines. Each room is saturated with one of the six most common elements: fire, ice, water, air, earth, and lightning."
She paused dramatically, savoring the look of growing horror on Junia's face before delivering the crushing blow. "Your precious young master will be subjected to daily seclusion within those chambers until he reaches his third birthday."
Hearing this pronouncement, Junia couldn't help but gaze down at innocent Ares with an expression of profound sorrow, as though he had been brought here not for education but for systematic destruction. For a fleeting moment, relief flickered across her features—she thanked whatever gods might be listening that she hadn't been cursed with birth into the patriarch's direct lineage.
"And that magnificent structure," Veltrissa continued, gesturing toward the castle with proprietary pride, "is the heart of the Cradle itself. Within those walls, we house the residential tiers where you'll spend your sleepless nights, the education wings where children aged three to eight receive lessons about our brutal world, family politics, and blood-soaked history. We also maintain training rooms where young masters learn non-lethal combat arts to build their stamina and prepare them for when they join the main family."
Her voice took on an almost reverent tone as she continued her tour. "The mana sanctum serves as our cultivation center, where children learn to harness their mana and likewise grow. Finally, we have the ceremonial space—the Hall of Commandments—which leads to the departure chambers. But you needn't worry about that particular room for another eight years, assuming anyone survives that long!"
The moment these words left her lips, Veltrissa erupted into another fit of uncontrollable laughter, her voice echoing off the stone walls. After finally composing herself, wiping tears of cruel amusement from her eyes, she led the stunned Junia to her modest quarters before personally escorting Ares to the Young Masters' wing—a place that felt more like a beautiful mausoleum than a nursery for children.