Northreach Grand Station. Morning – Three Years After the Morvath War.
"Attention all passengers. The 'Silver Comet' Express bound for the Capital, Sol-Regis, will depart in ten minutes. Please have your tickets and travel documents ready."
The announcement rang out clearly from the funnel speakers mounted on every station pillar. Gone were the days of hoarse conductors shouting at the top of their lungs.
Northreach Grand Station was a new monument of pride. Its roof was constructed from arched steel frames and clear glass, allowing the morning sunlight to illuminate the gleaming marble floors. Thousands of people bustled about—merchants in neat suits, tourists clutching box cameras (a prototype by Rianor), and citizens who no longer looked gaunt and hollow-eyed.
On Platform 1, an iron beast hissed softly.
A shimmering silver mana-steam locomotive, bearing the Golden Lion crest of House Sudrath on its side. This was no ordinary train. It was the fastest machine in the Kingdom of Aethelgard.
On the VIP platform, the Sudrath family gathered.
And as usual, it was utter chaos.
"Where is the Rendang?! Don't you dare leave it behind! I cooked that for four hours until it was dry so it would last!"
Duchess Aurelia was in a panic, rummaging through her daughter's expensive leather suitcase.
"It's in this bag, Mom... please, stop digging through it..." Raveena lamented.
Three years had transformed the little girl into a mesmerizing young woman.
Lady Raveena was now 15 years old. She was beautiful, with the sharp jawline of Aurelia, but her eyes radiated the keen intelligence of Rianor. She wore the uniform of the Royal Magic Academy—a stylishly modified short navy blue cloak paired with knee-high leather boots.
Tucked into her waist was a short metal rod that looked simple yet precise.
The "Telescopic Staff."
Beside her stood Young Master Raphael (13 years old).
Puberty had hit him hard—in the best way possible. His height had skyrocketed, and his shoulders had broadened (the result of hellish physical training with Riven). He was handsome and composed, with a gentle smile that could deceive anyone (the result of Roland's tutelage).
He wore the black and red uniform of the Royal Military Academy. Hanging from his left waist was a sword with a jet-black leather scabbard.
"Here, let me do a final check," a woman's flat voice cut through Aurelia's commotion.
A young woman (19 years old) with gold-chained glasses and a leather apron over her gown stepped forward. Her hands were rough, filled with small scars from welding sparks and forging iron.
Rumina Sudrath (The 5th Child).
Rumina pulled the staff from Raveena's waist. CLICK. She pressed a hidden button, and the rod extended perfectly into a combat magic staff.
"The hinge is smooth. I've recalibrated the mana crystal so it won't overheat when Raveena uses fire spells," Rumina said technically. She handed the staff back. "Take care of it. That's a titanium alloy I spent a week forging. Don't use it to whack rats."
Raveena smiled, hugging her sister. "Thanks, Sis Rum. This is your best work yet."
Rumina snorted (though her cheeks flushed slightly). She turned to Raphael.
She drew Raphael's sword halfway out of its scabbard. The blade shimmered with a bluish tint. Pure Mithril.
"The balance is perfect," Rumina muttered. "I made the hilt slightly heavier so Raphael can parry more easily, following the combat style Riven taught him."
"Remember, Raph," Rumina stared sharply at her brother from behind her glasses. "This steel is expensive. If you break this sword through carelessness... I'm cutting your allowance for an entire semester to pay for it."
Raphael laughed nervously. "Understood, Sis Rum. This sword is my life."
"Good." Rumina stepped back, returning to her "Smith" mode, letting the other siblings approach.
"Raphael," a deep voice called from behind.
Sir Riven (35 years old) stepped forward.
The "War Hero" now looked more mature. His physique had grown even larger and more muscular, his muscles looking as if they were about to rip through the formal suit he wore. There was a hint of gray in his sideburns, adding to his fierce demeanor.
Riven draped an arm around his brother's shoulder (more like a headlock).
"Remember what I told you?" Riven whispered seriously.
"I remember, Brother," Raphael replied resignedly.
"Repeat it."
Raphael sighed. "If a senior tells you to do something weird, don't fight them in public. Take them behind the building, use Jiu-Jitsu joint locks, target the pressure points, and neutralize them without leaving a bruise."
"Smart boy." Riven slapped his brother's back hard. "I'll head to the Capital next week for the General's inauguration. If you've lost weight by the time I arrive... I'm firing your dorm chef."
"Yes, General," Raphael saluted with a smile.
Lady Rhea (29 years old) approached Raveena. The Assassin now sported a fresh bob cut, looking radiant and beautiful yet remaining just as dangerous.
"Veena, listen to me."
Rhea slipped a small box into Raveena's cloak pocket.
"That's a Pepper Spray concoction from Elara. 500% concentration. If some noble guy gets 'handsy' during a ball, or tries to cast a spell on you..."
"Spray his eyes?" Raveena guessed.
"Spray his mouth so he swallows the poison," Rhea corrected ruthlessly. "Let him feel what it's like to swallow hellfire."
"Got it, Sis," Raveena chuckled.
Sir Rianor (25 years old) and Sir Roland (21 years old) arrived last.
Rianor was still loyal to his white lab coat. Roland looked as dapper as ever.
"This is for you two," Rianor handed over two pairs of small Ear-Pieces. "Long-distance communication devices. Connected to the castle's telegraph network. If you miss home, or if you need the answers to a Physics exam... call me."
Roland handed over two thick envelopes.
"Extra pocket money. Don't spend it on books. Use it to treat your classmates. Remember, in the Capital, Network is Net Worth. Who knows, your seatmate might be the child of the Minister of Trade. Turn them into an asset."
Duke Lucian looked at his children with teary eyes. He hugged Raphael and Raveena simultaneously.
"Go. Make us proud. Show the people of the Capital that the Northern Lions aren't just kings of their own den."
"We will, Dad. We're off."
TUUUT... TUUUT!
Raphael and Raveena boarded the carriage. The automatic doors hissed shut with a hydraulic sound.
The train began to move. Chuff... chuff... chuff...
They waved from behind the glass windows until the station vanished from sight.
On the platform, the atmosphere suddenly went silent.
Aurelia was still waving her handkerchief, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"The house is going to be so quiet..." Aurelia sobbed. "No more running around..."
Riven let out a sigh of relief. "Well, at least they're safe. Raphael can handle himself, and Raveena has a stun rod."
"Let's go home," Rhea suggested. "I want to go back to sleep."
Suddenly.
Aurelia's crying stopped. Cut.
Instantly.
Aurelia spun around. Her grieving face vanished, replaced by a cold expression that made the hair on Riven's neck stand on end. The killing intent radiating from the Duchess was stronger than any War Golem.
She stared at her three eldest children: Riven, Rhea, and Rianor.
(Rumina took a step back, pretending to be busy checking the quality of the station pillars to avoid the blast).
"Quiet..." Aurelia muttered. "This house is too quiet."
Aurelia stepped forward. Her high heels clicked—TAK. TAK. TAK.—on the marble floor like a countdown to a time bomb.
"Riven Sudrath," Aurelia called.
"Y-yes, Mom?" Riven took a step back, bumping into Rianor.
"You're going to the Capital next week, right? For the General's inauguration?"
"Y-yeah. The King called..."
"Good." Aurelia smiled sweetly. Too sweetly.
"In that case, you have an additional mission. When you return from the Capital, you MUST bring two things: One, the General's Decree. Two, A PROSPECTIVE WIFE."
Riven choked on his own saliva. "Mom! I can't do that! I'm going there on state business!"
"I don't care!" Aurelia snapped. "You're 35 years old! Back in Bandung, a man your age would already have two kids! You? You don't even have a girlfriend! Are you going to wait until you're completely gray before getting married?!"
Aurelia turned to Rhea.
"You too, Rhea! 29 years old! Stop playing with knives! Find a husband! I don't care if he's a noble or a gardener, as long as he's male and breathing!"
And finally, to Rianor.
"And you! Stop dating machines! Elara is waiting for you to make a move! Have some common sense!"
Aurelia pulled a thick notebook from her bag.
"PROJECT: MANTU."
"Starting today, I'm cutting the weapons budget by 50%. The funds are being redirected to wedding parties."
"NOOOO!" Riven and Rianor shouted in unison (Riven loved his weapons, Rianor needed research funds).
Rumina, standing in the back, only shook her head while patting her wallet. "Good job, Mom. Military budget savings. I support this."
"SHUT UP, RUM!" Riven yelled.
"You have two choices," Aurelia said, turning to head toward the carriage. "Bring a prospective spouse home, or I will choose for you. And my taste... well, you already know."
Riven, Rhea, and Rianor looked at each other in horror.
They had just survived a war against thousands of soldiers.
But a war against their Mother's ambitions? That was a suicide mission.
"I have to escape to the Capital as soon as possible," Riven whispered, pale. "Next week? No. I'm leaving tomorrow. Reason: early preparation for the inauguration."
"Take me with you, Brother," Rhea pleaded desperately. "I'll be your bodyguard."
Amidst technological advancement and abundant wealth, the Sudrath family now faced their greatest threat: Forced Marriage.