Devourer's Legacy: I Regressed With The Primordial Crest-Chapter 32: Main House (2)

The place where Renard was led to was an annex built off the main hall—a secluded structure, separate from the estate's grand central buildings.

As he walked through the silent corridors, he took note of an obvious absence.

Not once did he catch a glimpse of a single relative bearing the crest of the White Wolf and Black Panther—the sigil of the main family.

It wasn't just neglect.

It was deliberate indifference.

They didn't care about his arrival.

They weren't even interested in meeting him.

But at the very least, he wasn't being received with outright hostility.

Upon reaching the annex, a personal attendant awaited him—a single girl, standing with perfect posture, her hands neatly folded in front of her.

She bowed.

"Greetings, Young Master. Please call me Lyla."

Renard studied her.

She was young, barely older than him—perhaps seventeen at most. Despite her polite tone, there was something in her demeanor that made it clear she hadn't been assigned to serve out of prestige.

This wasn't a sign of respect.

It was an afterthought.

Renard accepted it without complaint.

"If there is anything you need, please ring this bell," Lyla continued, presenting a small, silver bell before bowing again.

He took it, rolling it between his fingers. "Do you mind if I speak comfortably?"

"Of course, please do so."

Renard glanced around the spacious annex, his sharp eyes scanning the hallways, the common area, and the doors leading to the individual rooms.

"All this space... Am I the only one staying here?"

Lyla hesitated. "I'm afraid that is not the case, but there shouldn't be any discomfort during your stay."

"So, I'll be sharing it with some other relatives," Renard mused.

"Yes."

"When will they be arriving?"

"They should all arrive within four days at the latest."

Renard snorted at that.

Four days.

Four days of being locked in this annex like an outsider.

'They don't even want me near the main house until the ceremony.'

"How generous," Renard muttered under his breath.

He set the bell down on a nearby table, his expression neutral, before turning back to Lyla.

"Is there a training ground around the back?"

Lyla blinked, slightly caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. "...Huh? Um, yes, there is."

"Do I need permission from the main house to practice with a wooden sword?"

"That's... um..."

"Because that's exactly what I'm going to do."

Renard's grin was sharp as he strode toward the back entrance.

Lyla, visibly hesitant, hurried to follow him—her expression a mix of confusion and concern.

But Renard didn't care.

They could try to ignore him all they wanted.

But he wasn't here to cower.

He was here to rise.

And nothing would stop him.

***

The large carriage adorned with the sigil of two crossed swords, along with the White Wolf and Black Panther of House Grim, rumbled to a halt before the grand estate.

From within, two identical twins—Aedric and Adrienne—descendants of the fourth wife and heirs to Ironshade, the most formidable of Grim's seven regions—prepared to step out.

As the doors swung open, they emerged.

Their movements were poised.

Their expressions, laced with disdain.

Aedric, the taller of the two, flicked an invisible speck of dust from his finely embroidered sleeve, his golden eyes scanning the estate with a look of mild disinterest.

Beside him, Adrienne stretched her arms dramatically, letting out an exaggerated yawn, as if the journey had been some grueling ordeal.

"We should have just stayed in Ironshade," Adrienne muttered, pushing back strands of dark silver hair. "I fail to see the point of coming here, aside from humoring Father."

"Hmph. As if we had a choice," Aedric replied coolly, his gaze narrowing.

Before them, a line of servants stood in wait, heads bowed.

"Welcome, young master, young miss."

The treatment was vastly different from what Renard had received.

Aedric didn't even spare a glance at the servant. He simply strode forward, his voice clipped and direct.

"Who all have arrived?"

The servant hesitated briefly before responding, "All the branch families have arrived. Only young master Cyan and young miss Lyra are yet to make their arrival."

Adrienne scoffed. "Making a grand entrance at the end, huh?"

Aedric's lips curled slightly, a flicker of annoyance flashing across his otherwise stoic face. But just as he was about to move on, a thought struck him.

He turned, his golden eyes sharp.

"What about the boy from Wretched Taira's Castle?"

At that, Adrienne perked up, her interest piqued.

The servant visibly tensed.

There was a slight hesitation before he answered, "Young master Renard arrived three days prior. He is currently... practicing sword at the eastern annex's training grounds."

Aedric scoffed. "Seems he's been here long enough to grow comfortable. How unfortunate."

Adrienne clicked her tongue in irritation. "Taira's Castle. That crumbling relic of outdated tradition and useless ideals... And he, their so-called heir." She rolled her eyes before scoffing. "Does he truly believe that makes him important?"

If not for Draemir's protection, Ironshade would have long since absorbed Taira into its domain.

Their mother, the fourth wife, despised Renard's mother for reasons neither twin fully understood—nor cared to.

Aedric chuckled. "Seems like he's hacking away at a wooden sword like a desperate mutt. As if brute effort alone will change his fate."

Adrienne hummed in amusement. "Perhaps he hopes to impress someone. How pitiful. No matter how much he tries, he remains a fool."

"You'd think he'd know his place by now," Aedric mused. "But... perhaps, we should remind him."

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Adrienne's lips curled into a wicked grin.

"Oh? And how do you plan to do that, dear brother?"

Aedric tilted his head thoughtfully before nodding towards a group of stable boys tending to the horses nearby.

"He may consider himself noble, but if you strip away his titles, what's left?" His golden eyes gleamed. "Nothing more than a bastard."

Adrienne clapped her hands together in delight.

"Ah! I see! Since the journey here was so terribly dusty, the poor horses must be uncomfortable. It would be cruel of us to let them suffer."

"Exactly," Aedric smirked. "And who better to tend to them than our dear cousin?"

Adrienne feigned sympathy.

"Oh, poor Renard. The mighty Guardians of the Great Green Forest, reduced to stable boys." She sighed theatrically before giggling.

"Shall we, then?"

The twins strode forward, their steps slow and deliberate, each footfall radiating conceit.

At that moment, they had no idea what disaster they were inviting upon themselves.

---***---