Upon receiving the curt demand—"We require the presence of the young Von Heim, bring him to us"—Selaphiel's eyes narrowed.

A flicker of satisfaction, knowing the enforcers had committed themselves, was mixed with a potent hint of suspicion.

Their target was clear, the bridges burned; her opponents had no path to retreat. Yet, her instincts, honed over centuries of political maneuvering, kicked in, and she immediately became wary.

Lugh was an asset unlike any they could even imagine, a fact that escaped even the boy himself.

Her plans, if not for him, then for his immense and largely untapped abilities, were extensive and intricate. It was a resource she could not risk losing under any circumstances.

Because of this, Lugh wasn't being led out to meet the unwelcome guests. Instead, the opposite occurred.

The prestigious enforcers of the Jade Tower, a group accustomed to commanding respect, were led deeper into the Von Heim residence for the sole purpose of seeking an audience with the young man.

The walk was tense and, more importantly, quiet. It was a chilling, suffocating silence, a stillness that could be compared to the perpetually unnerving atmosphere of the Cross family manor.

This feeling of being watched, of being enclosed, gave a few of the enforcers the impression that the walls themselves were closing in around them.

A fantastical thought, yes, but one born from truths that were far from unfounded.

Who were the Von Heims? To be honest, nobody really knew.

How they had retained their unrivaled hegemony over the noble families of Ophris for tens of decades, and indeed for centuries, while other institutions crumbled or faced varying rates of decline, was a feat modern researchers could not begin to comprehend.

This profound lack of understanding was the most terrifying prospect. What exactly would happen if they were walking into a trap?

If the Von Heims were to not only capture but dispose of them? It was a consensus that the entirety of the Jade Tower would crack down heavily on them.

But would the family be destroyed?

No.

The fact that they could even think a single family could survive the combined assault of the kingdom's secret magic society was precisely where the problem lay.

It was a question to their sheer, incomprehensible power. A power no one really knew the depths of.

While these unsettling thoughts churned in the minds of some of the enforcers, the others were far more in control.

They used the opportunity to look around, taking in the sights—whether it was the meticulously maintained indoor plant life that all the elves collectively appreciated, or the more subtle and intricate magical enchantments that wove across the pure white stones, hidden from the senses of most orthodox mages.

Soon, the wide doors at the end of a long corridor were opened, leading to a classy parlor of antique design.

The room was dominated by deep burgundy colors and the low, murmuring chatter of young humans.

Lugh and the others, who had been in the middle of casual conversation ceased their chatter, gazing warily at the new arrivals.

Lugh's eyes drifted to Xhi, who stood just beside Selaphiel, as if having been placed there on purpose by the distrustful elf.

She didn't seem to draw any attention, having blended in perfectly, a fact Lugh found deeply disturbing every time he thought about it.

After all, her coming to the outside world was apparently a "mistake," a word Lugh found to get more dubious the more time passed.

The silent exchange between the two groups lasted a very short while before Selaphiel moved to lean against a wall, taking on a posture of casual command.

She gestured to the enforcers.

"There he is. Do what you have to."

The man who seemed to be the leader nodded in affirmation. A few of his squad members split up, approaching Lugh professionally while holding leather cases in their grips.

Once opened, the cases revealed various tools and instruments, no doubt arcane in nature.

"What are you planning to do?"

Lugh heard a voice ask. He turned to see the elf he had not known for more than 12 hours leaning back comfortably in a chair, her legs crossed.

He snapped his head back to the procession, his eyes asking a silent question: Didn't she arrive with them?

Not only Seraphina, but also Xhi and Siegfried found ways to make themselves comfortable.

Xhi chose to sit, while Siegfried leaned on a shelf, a posture similar to Selaphiel's, no doubt ready to spring into action if the need arose.

Nobody could really tell what was running through his mind. The enforcers, by contrast, stood perfectly still, like enlisted soldiers, though not quite as organized.

One of the people operating the strange instruments immediately responded to Seraphina's question.

"We are testing for residue, as well as any recent use of the forbidden arts,"

She stated. Lugh blinked. Forbidden arts? Could the mawglass be considered forbidden? Lugh thought of the ability to control other people and came to the immediate conclusion of yes.

It would be bad if he was busted for something not even remotely related to what they were searching for.

He cast a furtive glance at Xhi as a steel baton, illuminated from within, scoured his body without making direct contact.

The person operating the device observed the deep blue light, which had yet to change in color, and sighed before shaking her head.

Once that was done, another enforcer brought forth a glass vial.

"Now if you'd drink this, Mr. Lugh—"

He began, but was cut off by Selaphiel's soft, yet easily carried voice.

"No one is drinking anything."

He stilled, then turned uncomfortably to his superior, who simply shrugged in response.

In no time at all, they completed their task—at least the ones they were allowed to—and addressed the leader of the squad.

"No issues here, sir."

The man nodded grimly, while Lugh let out a silent, tentative sigh of relief, one that did not go unnoticed by Selaphiel, who still kept a close watch on him.

As for the leader of the squad? The poor elf was just short of scratching his head in confusion.

With the graveness in which the order had been given, they were not only hoping to find something incriminating, but he had seriously thought they would be catching the Von Heims red-handed.

But now? He realigned his thoughts, remembering all the details in the files given to him before asking,

"And you're sure he is the real Lugh?"

His subordinate responded.

"Yes. No transformation arts have been confirmed to be used. And his species is… well?"

She trailed off.

"Well what?"

He pressed.

The woman stole a discreet glance at Selaphiel before speaking in the least controversial way she could.

"Well… he's a human. That much I can say… mostly."

A twitch of a brow.

"Mostly?"

She bit her lip. What the hell was this man trying to do? Was he trying to stir up trouble, or was he really just oblivious? Everyone knew about the… less than ethical lengths Selaphiel had gone through to "jack up" her bloodline.

"The boy is, for the most part, a human,"

She stated.

"For the m—"

He started, but she cut in rather forcefully.

"Any further deviances are not related to our goal in coming here, I assure you."

Her interruption caused their team leader to frown until someone whispered in his ear, and his eyes shone in comprehension.

Meanwhile, the others just watched this exchange without uttering a word. That was until Siegfried spoke. He asked,

"When you say, 'human for the most part,' are you implying he has some other things in him?"

She nodded once.

"Elven genes?"

He asked again.

She nodded twice.

Siegfried stroked his chin, and if anyone paid a little attention to his facial expressions, they would see a hint of genuine surprise.

As for what he was surprised about, Lugh couldn't bloody tell.

The man asked again.

"So if we were to put it into percentages, about how much will this be?"

"Well…"

She looked down at the device in her hand. Accurate as the artifact was, it wasn't that precise. Instead, she spoke.

"I can't give you a precise figure, but… if anything such as a half-elf exists, then he's the closest to one I've ever seen."

The proclamation drew some muted reactions from the crowd, with Lance, who had been in the room before the enforcers' arrival, outwardly proclaiming,

"I knew it!"

Jahira simply stared at him disdainfully, resisting the urge to sneer. People will jump at any excuse to shirk responsibility, she thought.

Assuming he's a true half-elf, was that an excuse for you, a person older than a century, to lose?

No matter the reasons brought up—underestimating, caught unawares—a loss was still a loss.

After gaining the revelation that the Lugh in front of him was, in fact, the real one, the leader of this group organised his thoughts as he turned to Selaphiel.

"It has come to our attention that, under your direct orders, ten children were abducted from the slums. We demand an explanation for this action and require to know the present location of these children."