Lucian didn't react much when he heard all that. He tried to act tough; this was all part of the plan he had. The guy called Clay didn't waste any time and started throwing punches at Lucian, though he held back, probably not wanting to kill him. So he just landed three solid punches. When he saw Lucian wasn't resisting, he dragged him out.
After being pulled from the carriage, Lucian looked around, or rather, turned his head as if searching, until he could smell the sharp scent of blood. Then he ran toward it. The leader was probably amused by his act and wondering where this blind boy wanted to run off to. But all Lucian needed was to get blood on himself—a huge amount, enough to soak himself in it, even if it wasn't his own blood.
Well, it appeared one of the guards had died, and it seemed killing was more of a common occurrence in this world. The leader didn't tell anyone to stop Lucian or do anything; they just kept watching until he got to the ground where the blood was, tripped, and fell, falling directly onto the blood and staining his clothes in the process.
Once done with his act, he turned back and nodded in the direction where he smelled Aurora. Before the bandits got to the carriage, he had asked Aurora if she could take care of them without making it obvious, and she had replied, "I could even kill them when I sleep."
Well, he didn't want anyone to suspect anything about Aurora, so she did her part subtly. Suddenly, all the bandits started screaming as if their skin was on fire, and then they all ran back into the woods. Lucian was pretty sure they were going to die. It was probably one of Aurora's spells.
After the bandits were all gone, the guards stood up in a daze, wondering what had happened. Lucian turned to the guard leader and asked, "Did you do something?"
The guard seemed even more confused while looking around before he answered, "No, it wasn't me, young lord, but we should leave right away now that the bandits are gone."
Lucian nodded. Aurora came to his side, held his hand, and took him back to the carriage. Then they went back on their way, continuing on the path to his family's manor, which they would likely reach in the next 30 minutes once they were outside the forest.
---
The remaining journey passed in tense silence. The guard captain rode close to the carriage, his eyes scanning the forest constantly for any sign of the bandits' return. Inside, Lucian sat motionless, his clothes still damp with the fallen guard's blood. Aurora had resumed her childlike persona, clutching his arm with feigned fear.
"Young lord," the guard captain called through the window. "I must apologize for our failure to protect you properly. When we reach the manor, I will personally explain the situation to your family."
"That won't be necessary," Lucian replied coolly. "The bandits fled, and we survived. That's what matters."
The truth was more complex. Lucian had deliberately covered himself in blood for a reason—a plan forming in his mind that required his arrival at the Marcellus manor to be as dramatic as possible. First impressions, even for a returning family member, could set the tone for everything that followed.
As they emerged from the dense forest onto a well-maintained private road, Lucian could sense the change in surroundings. The air carried the scent of cultivated gardens and the distant smell of smoke from chimneys. They were approaching civilization again—specifically, the ancestral home of the Marcellus family.
"There it is, young lord," the driver announced. "Marcellus Manor."
Though he couldn't see it, Lucian drew from his host's memories to visualize the scene. The manor would be an elegant stone structure built in the traditional imperial style—two stories high with extensive gardens surrounding it, and carefully tended grounds that blended seamlessly with the forest beyond. Not ostentatious like the homes of greater nobles, but respectable and clearly marking the family's status.
As the carriage rolled closer, the massive iron gates creaked open, flanked by stone lions bearing the Marcellus crest—an ancient oak tree split by a silver crescent. Several guards stood at attention, their uniforms crisp, their eyes trained on the incoming visitors. One of them stepped forward, raising a hand for the carriage to halt.
"State your name and business!" he barked in a firm but respectful tone.
The lead guard escorting Lucian dismounted and gave a formal nod. "We're here to return someone. The young lord... Lucian Marcellus."
The words struck the air like thunder. The sentries froze.
"You—What did you say?" one of them stammered, lowering his weapon as disbelief flickered across his face.
The carriage door opened slowly, and Lucian stepped out, supported by Aurora, his clothes stained in dried blood, his posture weary but proud. The moment his face caught the light, a ripple of recognition passed through the guards. Gasps followed. Then one of them shouted, "Inform Lady Seraphina at once! The young lord has returned!"
Two of the guards sprinted toward the main building, while the others approached Lucian in disbelief. "It really is him..." one whispered. "After two years..."
Lucian gave no reply. He allowed their awe to wash over him. This moment had to be remembered—etched into their minds not just as the return of a lost noble, but the arrival of someone reborn.
As the manor doors burst open, Lady Seraphina emerged. Her silver hair flowed behind her like a river of moonlight, her deep violet gown a contrast to the golden sunlight behind her. Her sharp eyes locked onto Lucian instantly—and in that moment, the perfect image of a noblewoman shattered. She ran.
When Lucian caught the faint scent of gardenia and amber on the wind, his body tensed—not out of fear, but recognition. He might not be able to see the mother of this body, but it seemed the body recognized her because as soon as he felt that scent coming from her, it was like he was already home, like all his problems had been dealt with. Feeling her running into him without care about anything, he held her back, hugging her like he didn't want to let go. Though he acted this way, his expression didn't change much.
While Seraphina was hugging him, he could hear her saying, "Lucian, it's really you! I thought..." she sobbed, "I thought I had lost you. I thought you were dead. It's really you, Lucian. You're alive..." More sobbing. "I missed you so much. I am so glad you're alive. I thought I lost you too."
Lucian just kept patting the woman called his mother without much expression on his face. Then he replied, "Yes, I'm alive, and I'm home now."
With his sister following from behind Now seventeen, Celeste Marcellus stood tall and poised, her pale blonde hair braided in the formal style of noblewomen, her amber eyes filled with shock and restrained emotion. She didn't rush to him as their mother had. She only walked forward until they were eye to eye.
"You've changed," she said flatly. Looking at his red long hair she knew his hair weren't long this long before seeing it she knew he had changed a lot.
Lucian tilted his head. "So have you."
She didn't respond immediately, then finally said, "Welcome home, brother."
The words sounded rehearsed, but sincere.
Seraphina finally pulled back, brushing hair from Lucian's face. "You're wounded—guards! Bring the healer!"
"No," Lucian said calmly. "I'm fine. The blood isn't mine."
Lady Seraphina narrowed her eyes. "Then whose—?"
"There was an ambush in the woods," the escort explained, stepping forward. "Bandits. Strong ones. We lost one of our men, but your son—he survived. He's... different now."
Seraphina turned back to her son, as if seeing him anew.
"I'll explain everything," Lucian said. "But first, I need rest."
"And who is this?" Celeste interrupted, eyeing Aurora, who clung sweetly to Lucian's side.
"I am Aurora," the girl chirped, curtsying with perfect grace. "Daddy's daughter."
"DAUGHTER?!" Celeste shouted.
"It's complicated," he said. "I will explain when I've gotten enough rest."
They nodded, though he was surprised they didn't ask about the chain collar around his neck and the handcuffs. But that didn't change anything. His mother called the maids to lead him to his room and also prepare a bath for him and have a change of clothes all set up.
The familiar scents of the manor washed over Lucian as he was guided through the hallways—polished wooden panels, the lingering aroma of fresh-cut flowers, and the distinctive blend of herbs that his mother always kept burning in silver censers throughout the house. Despite never having truly been here before, his body relaxed into the comfort of home, guided by memories that weren't his own
Two maids flanked him, carefully keeping their distance while still offering support should he need it. They spoke in hushed whispers to each other, clearly stunned by the young master's return and his changed condition. The blindfold, the blood-stained clothes, his changed hair color, the strange child who claimed to be his daughter—it was scandal and mystery rolled into one