ETERNAL

Chapter 9: Unprotected Dome

In the waning light of dusk, the horse, a majestic creature of muscle and sinew, pulled the carriage with a tireless elegance. Its hooves struck the earth in a rhythmic cadence, a symphony of natural grace that resonated through the air, audible even from afar. Within the confines of the carriage, Leonard and Saburo sat enveloped in shadows, their presence a clandestine whisper to the world beyond. The door, a bastion of wood and iron, stood resolute, safeguarding their fleeting reprieve from the eyes of the world.

Leonard, bound to the chair by more than just the ropes that held him, felt the weight of unspoken questions heavy on his tongue. Yet, in the sanctum of his mind, curiosity roamed untethered, contemplating the enigma of their destination. Outside, the carriage slipped past the trees, a silent specter amidst the rustling leaves, its passage a fleeting blur against the stillness of the forest.

On the horizon, where sky and earth conspired in an endless embrace, stood a solitary sentinel-a watchtower of stone and resolve. Its walls, formidable and unyielding, rose from the ground like the steadfast trunk of an ancient sentinel. At its zenith, a roof curved gently, reminiscent of a conical hat, a silent testament to the watchful gaze it cast upon the land.

As the carriage came to a halt, the gates of the palace loomed before them, its gardens a riot of greenery and florals, a living mosaic crafted by nature's hand. Before the imposing gates, a line of ten men stood in silent vigil, their presence a testament to the grandeur of the occasion. As Saburo emerged, they bowed in unison, a choreographed gesture of deep respect. The words, “「サブロー先生！ ご到着を嬉しく思います！」”(Master Saburo! We are pleased for your arrival!), filled the air, a chorus of voices welcoming the esteemed master.

Leonard watched, a silent observer, his heart a tumult of emotions. The authority Saburo wielded was palpable, yet it bore no resemblance to the tyrants of war he had envisioned. There was no thirst for battle in Saburo's demeanor, no hunger for conquest-only the quiet strength of a leader revered not for his might, but for the wisdom and restraint he embodied.

At the threshold of the grand palace, two imposing wooden doors stood sentinel. Before them, a man clad in a mint-green tuxedo-the very embodiment of elegance-knelt before Saburo. His tie, a striking contrast of red and black, lay neatly against his chest. The man's hair was a snowy white, save for a single strand dyed a bold red, a mark of distinction.

He bowed his head, his voice a soft murmur of deference as he spoke, “「おはようございます、本日はセブルスがご奉仕させていただきます。 集会はこちらです。」”(“Good morning, sir. I, Severus, will be at your service today. The assembly is this way.”)

The air was charged with anticipation as Severus rose, gesturing towards the heart of the palace where the assembly awaited. Leonard, witnessing this exchange, felt a mix of awe and curiosity. The reverence afforded to Saburo was unlike anything he had seen, and it was clear that Saburo's influence extended far beyond the confines of the forest where they had trained.

The grand wooden doors swung open, revealing a corridor that seemed to stretch into infinity. Saburo stepped onto the threshold, and in that precise moment, the sconces lining the walls flared to life. Their flames pierced the once impenetrable darkness, casting elongated shadows that danced across the ancient stones.

Leonard followed, his breath catching as the air shifted. The walls whispered secrets-echoes of forgotten lives etched into the very fabric of the mansion. Centuries seemed to converge here, their memories lingering like phantoms. The scent of aged wood and dust hung heavy, a fragrance that transcended time.

The path illuminated before them was both literal and metaphorical. Each step carried weight-an invitation to unravel the enigma that lay ahead. Leonard's unease intensified. The mansion held them in suspense, its flickering lights and silent tales weaving a tapestry of anticipation.