THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR

Dawn's rosy fingers peeked through the arrow slits, painting David's chamber in a soft blush. A hurried rustle filled the air as both David and Shay scrambled to dress. A final, lingering kiss sealed their secret pact – Shay slipping from the room like a wraith before suspicion could cast its shadow.

The young master had enjoyed the privilege of having his personal maid assist with his attire, ensuring no interruptions marred their stolen moment.

Minutes, stretched taut with anticipation, bled into one another before David emerged. Stepping out, he navigated the labyrinthine stone corridors, each echoing footstep guiding him towards the castle's heart – the grand dining room.

The heavy oak doors creaked open, revealing a scene unlike any other morning he wished. Disappointment washed over David like a tidal wave.

Gone was Katrina, the head maid, with her stern expression and unwavering gaze. In her place stood two young girls, their faces pale with apprehension as they curtseyed at his entrance. One, emboldened by the other, stammered out a greeting, her voice trembling slightly. "Good morning, young master," she squeaked.

David's gaze narrowed. "Where's Katrina?" he demanded, the sharp edge to his voice sending a shiver down their spines. The younger maid blanched but managed to force a response. "I... I'm terribly sorry, sir," she began, her voice barely a whisper. "But the head maid will not be attending to you this morning," she explained, a shadow flitting across her eyes.

David's breathed out. No Katrina. Disappointment pricked at him, a sharp thorn amongst the roses of anticipation. He'd been looking forward to seeing her, a stolen moment to admire the way her ember braid swayed as she bustled about swaying her fine ass, the hint of a flustered smile playing on her lips. But of course, the head maid wouldn't have time for a mere lord's whims every morning.

Duty, a word as heavy as the gilded plates adorning the table, surely called.

Stifling a sigh, David schooled his features into a neutral mask. He didn't want to frighten these younglings, their eyes wide as silver coins and limbs trembling like startled fawns. With a forced smile, he eased himself into the plush chair.

"There's no need to be flustered," he said, his voice as smooth as honey. "Go about your duties. One of you, fetch breakfast – something hearty, perhaps sausages and warm bread. The other, fill my goblet with the freshest cider, the kind that wakes the soul." His words, laced with a hint of playful command, seemed to ease the tension in the room.

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One maid, emboldened, scurried off towards the kitchen, her braid bouncing with newfound purpose. The other, eyes wide with a newfound respect, curtseyed deeply before refilling his goblet, her trembling hands surprisingly steady. David watched them move, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. Perhaps this new routine wouldn't be so bad after all.

A feast for a king (or at least a young master) materialized before him. Sausages plump and glistening with rendered fat, bread warm enough to steam, and a goblet brimming with cider so clear it captured the morning sunlight. David dug in with a sigh of satisfaction, the disappointment of Katrina's absence quickly fading with each delectable bite.

The young maids hovered around him, their movements a nervous ballet. One refilled his goblet a touch too eagerly, sloshing a bit onto the pristine tablecloth. David dismissed them with a gentle smile, their frantic energy making him smile inwardly.

The fact was that, in the tower, time moved differently from this world, which still tugged at him mentally, speaking of world, he recalled that the Author named the world Ternion. He had spent a full day in that death omen tower but the rewards were good, rewards right! With a triumphant grin, he remembered the purpose of his ordeal.

He hadn't even checked what bounty awaited him after surviving that death place. Anticipation bubbled in his chest as he murmured the word, "Status," and a cerulean screen materialized before him, shimmering like a captured piece of the summer sky.

Name: David De Gror

Race: Human

class: Ascendant

(NEW!) LV: 20 [0/10,000]

Skills: Eternal Gluttoney, Celestial Wheel, Wolf's grace

Aetenus: Blood Alpha

HP: 500/500 >> 1000/100

MP: 100/100 >> 200/200

Stamina: 200/250 >> 500/500

Strength: 50 >> 100

Agility: 150 >> 300

Intelligence: 70 >> 140

charm: 70

The status screen pulsed with an ethereal light, its cerulean glow reflecting in David's wide-eyed wonder. A surge of exhilaration threatened to break his lordly composure. He'd leveled up! Not a measly nudge, but a meteoric rise to level 20. His stats, previously respectable, now bulged like muscles after a rigorous encounter with demise. He could practically feel the power coursing through his veins.

But the real surprise lay below his revamped stats. A new section, bracketed by imposing square brackets – "[Aetenus]" – demanded his attention. Beneath it, a single word sent a thrill coursing through him, raising the hairs on his arms and neck.

"Blood Alpha." He whispered the name, savouring its power on his tongue. "Eternal Gluttony has no Bounds." David chuckled, a low rumble that surprised even himself. An unknown benefactor had bestowed upon him a power as strange as it was intriguing.

"Eternal Gluttony," pulsed with an ominous energy. Its description sent shivers down his spine - the power to bind a soul, to forge a covenant that forced its very essence to fight for him.

His mind flashed back to the Fenrir, that monstrous wolf whose rabid hunger nearly claimed his life within the cursed tower. A perfect bodyguard, a fearsome weapon… and his captive. A twisted grin stretched across his face. What did it matter if she once tried to rip him limb from limb? She was his now, bound by an unseen chain forged in the fires of his own gluttony.

The urge to test this power, to summon the monstrous beast and witness its savage loyalty, gnawed at him. But a flicker of caution tempered his excitement. He didn't know the intricacies of this skill, the potential consequences of unleashing such a creature within the castle walls. For now, at least, the Fenrir would remain a trump card, a secret weapon waiting to be unleashed.

Perhaps, David mused with a dark chuckle, the castle itself held enough challenges to test his newfound hunger for power.