Chapter 1
**Unbinding the Engagement, Elevated by the Overlord** *The darkly charming, emotionally volatile hero × the rationally beautiful, resilient heroine* In a single sentence: Those who are forced to choose don’t realize they’ve stumbled upon a treasure; hence, if they find it unworthy, they dismiss it without a second thought. *An intense love story between two powerful partners, both pure of heart, set in an alternate universe.* --- **Chapter 1: Known as "Brom Ironheart"** **The Realm of Aether, Donnelly of Quiberon, Queen's Highway 326, Seventeenth Floor of Woder Keep** Just past his twenty-second birthday, Aldric the Bard had no grand celebration planned. Instead, he busied himself through yet another day of work and collapsed into the luxurious black leather sofa near the floor-to-ceiling windows. He removed his sleek, gold-rimmed glasses—an accessory he wore to portray maturity—and, with a weary sigh, rubbed his furrowed brow. As his eyes adjusted, his captivating red, fox-like gaze emerged, instantly illuminating his striking features. Aldric tousled his impeccably styled black curls, revealing a small red mark on his forehead that added an alluring touch to his already stunning visage. He had come to this world under the guise of adversity; his biological father was a well-known figure in the fashion industry, Cyrus the Scribe, a "Fashion Tycoon" respected throughout Donnelly of Quiberon. In the tumultuous 1990s of Quiberon, a new industrial revolution gave rise to rapid advancements across countless sectors. Amidst a landscape dominated by sweatshirts and North Face jackets, Cyrus distinguished himself through an innovative approach to professional women's fashion. He captured the hearts of modern businesswomen with affordable yet stylish designs, launching his career with a simple pair of jeans. Remarkably, he transitioned from retail clerk to fashion mogul in just three years. By thirty-four, Cyrus had amassed a staggering net worth of over $70 billion, ranking among the top three richest magnates in Canada—an undeniable rags-to-riches story. Cyrus was known for his bold business strategies and distinctive aesthetics in practical fashion, earning widespread acclaim. However, his personal conduct fell short of his commercial success. Aldric, as one of his acknowledged nine sons, bore the nickname “Brom Ironheart” at just twenty-two and remained undeveloped, triggering unflattering jokes behind closed doors. The reason Cyrus only claimed nine biological children stemmed from his pursuit of immortality, particularly through technological means. He held a deep fascination for Eastern mystical traditions, deeming dragons as the pinnacle of mystery and prestige. In Cyrus's eyes, he was like a dragon within the fashion industry—a leader feared and revered. A man of grand ambitions, Cyrus tirelessly sought various pathways to elude death, firmly believing that human determination could surpass natural limits. His relentless pursuits left no room for close relationships, including his family. He had even ventured so far as to neglect his own son in the process of grappling with his fear of mortality. In the realm of Qiankun, social hierarchy segregated humanity into six categories: high-ranking alphas leading society, lower-ranking omegas designated for reproduction, middle-tier betas, agender individuals, and a rare breed known as Enigmas—equivalent to demigods. Given his noble lineage and the expectation that a family son like Aldric would naturally evolve into a high-quality alpha, the fact that he turned twenty-two without any change led to the merciless jokes hinting at the term “Brom Ironheart.” Such slurs were particularly offensive considering his esteemed family background. Yet, Aldric took it all in stride. He never intended to belong to this world in the first place. Although he played the part of an observer, the events unfolding around him seemed washed out, like scenes playing from a distance, unmarked by personal encounters or involvement. Indeed, he was no ordinary inhabitant of this world. The root of his predicament came two years prior when Sirius the Fateweaver, a celestial figure, thrust him into this realm for what was misreported as a "learning experience" in human emotions, leaving Aldric utterly vexed—an accomplished being now forced to grasp what it meant to feel. Aldric, a descendant of the nine-tailed fox, represented the water element and had once been a prince in the mystical Green Hill. Sirius, having abandoned him in this world—a so-called quest for "emotions"—had offered him a new identity, albeit one stripped of all relevant memories, leaving Aldric resentful and frustrated. Though he understood the inevitability of shedding divine powers upon entering the human realm, Sirius's carelessness had left him with no memory to inform that newfound identity. In his opinion, this quest for "emotion" had become overwhelmingly banal, filled with modern expectations and colored by the harsh realities of human cruelty. Despite the possibility of love being within reach, no one piqued his interest. Aldric found this age to be far from peaceful—not rife with war, yet tumultuous nonetheless. Warlords and tycoons held dominion over their territories as businesses flourished, undeterred by the world’s upheaval. People remained open to new ideas, and the House of Aldric continued to thrive even with a seemingly indifferent father at the helm.
Chapter 2
In this time and place, Aldric the Bard finds himself entangled in a web spun by his father, Elias of the Library—a man whose moral compass seems to have gone awry. Obsessed with technology that promises eternal life, Elias has little regard for anyone who doesn’t suit his purposes, even his own children. He invests in every procedure imaginable, from blood transfusions to gene-splicing, all in the name of immortality. Elias's tastes when it comes to women are questionable at best. Known for his hedonistic lifestyle, he has made a deal with the ruler of a less developed nation, acquiring a small private island that has become a haven for young women, many in their mid-teens. In that backward society, they are considered of age and have been made part of Elias's lavish harem. The relationship between father and son is anything but typical. Ever since Aldric turned twenty and took the reins of his women’s wardrobe brand, “The Regal Attire,” he has garnered a reputation, though few have truly seen him. With a dedicated crew of photographers, he has traveled the globe, building his brand while skillfully operating in the shadows away from his father’s prying eyes. In the past couple of years, Aldric has quietly expanded his influence across the entertainment sector, expertly weaving his way into the press and holding sway over public interest. Yet, he would never admit that the mundanity of life drove him to seek thrills elsewhere. During this time, Aldric’s reputation within the upper crust of Quiberon has grown, but with that has come the complication of being overlooked by many. To outsiders, he remains an enigma—a well-kept secret overshadowed by his father’s notorious antics. As whispers of Elias’s excesses reach the public, Aldric is often merely a footnote: one of the few surviving heirs of House Aldric, alongside his brothers Silas Whispernight and Gideon the Watcher. Despite being a twenty-two-year-old still finding his place in the world, Aldric is not bothered by his lack of defining achievements, nor is his father. The only thing Elias values about Aldric lies in his business acumen and the quiet tenacity that has brought them to a seemingly easy coexistence. Years of a predictable father-son relationship took an unexpected turn with a rather unwelcome alliance on the horizon… **Chapter 002: The Betrothed** “Knock, knock,” came a polite rap on the office door. Aldric adjusted his glasses, raked a hand through his hair, and made sure he had returned to an air of sharp professionalism before calling out, “Come in.” “Sir Reginald, Brom Ironheart is here,” announced his secretary, Finn the Merchant, stepping into the room with a respectful demeanor. “He’s been waiting in the reception area for an hour.” “…” Aldric steadied himself, fighting the frown he could feel creeping in. “What does he want?” “Brom said today’s your birthday and noticed you didn’t answer his call or text. He brought gifts and wanted to check on you,” Finn reported. “Are you saying you let him think this was a personal invitation?” Aldric replied, feigning a disappointed tone. “Finn, I’ve misjudged you over these years…” “I filtered him out for you,” Finn responded, rolling his eyes at Aldric's teasing. “Though I admit, honestly, you have been buried in back-to-back meetings today. Your phone was never really close at hand.” Despite their hierarchical title, Aldric and Finn shared a friendship that extended beyond work; they were schoolmates and rarely failed to riff off each other's sarcastic banter. Finn continued, undeterred. “Brom’s holding a bouquet of roses.” “Ugh…” Aldric grimaced. Sir Reginald had a penchant for grandiosity that was difficult to swallow, and even after so much time, Aldric had yet to adapt. “Not to mention, he brought little cakes for everyone in the office,” Finn added. “…” Aldric couldn’t disguise his annoyance. “Brom also mentioned he booked a private dinner at Harbor's Edge that he wants to host for your birthday celebration at eight-thirty. He assured me it would be a closed event—no unwanted guests.” “…” “He truly thought of everything, every detail considered.” “…” Aldric ignored him, his annoyance palpable. Finn, persistent as ever, ventured, “Brom knows how hard you work; he gets that you don’t enjoy social obligations. So, he only invited a few close friends to keep it relaxed. He even brought snacks for you, just in case you end up feeling under the weather.” “……Sigh…” With each word from Finn, Aldric let out a deep sigh, his earlier calm unraveling further. The mention of Brom Ironheart, the third heir to the Roderick Consortium—his father, Elias, had thrust this arranged match into Aldric's life without his consent. Aldric outright detested the idea of this impending union. It wasn't that Brom Ironheart was unattractive or unpleasant—far from it, in fact. Dashing and courteous, he was most likely the next to inherit the family empire, boasting both wealth and undeniable good looks. Elias favored him, it seemed. But no matter how poised Brom was, Aldric felt no spark. Upon Elias's proposal of this alliance, Aldric instinctively sought to refuse. Perhaps his father, understanding him all too well, hadn’t granted him the chance. Elias didn’t care if Aldric and Brom would be a match made in heaven or not—he only had his own vision in focus. “I know your thoughts, Aldric. I can tell you want to reject this. But let me be clear: I’ve seen the beauty of love turn bitter with discord, yet marriage can bring two strangers together to cultivate a bond deeper than blood. Your betrothed is genuinely exceptional, and there’s nothing to critique here; your preferences matter little here. Ultimately, affection can be nurtured.”
Chapter 3
Aldric the Bard was taken aback, shocked by the audacity of Elias of the Library. When discussing his future spouse, Elias said, “While your father has set a poor example in marriage, and this has influenced your views on romantic relationships, you cannot let his mistakes define your life. At your age, he had already fathered three sons before you.” He couldn't bring himself to say that Aldric was still just a “fetus.” “Brom Ironheart,” Elias continued. “I haven’t differentiated yet.” Aldric looked at Elias’s earnest face, pretending to be concerned for his well-being as he bitterly voiced a thought. “Is the person my father chose an Alpha or an Omega?” “Alpha.” “Alpha.” Although Aldric maintained a stoic expression, he couldn’t help but laugh internally. Elias of the Library had recently brought in a fortune teller to confirm that Aldric would eventually turn into an Alpha, despite the fact that he was already twenty and still hadn’t differentiated. It wasn’t just that Aldric disliked the match; it felt like a cruel joke to offer him an Alpha as a partner, especially when he might become one himself. Wait. Aldric suddenly pieced it together. Elias of the Library never wasted effort, especially not on his biological children. There was a thread leading from Roderick, Roderick Consortium, Lord Roderick, all the way to Roderick Biotech Corp... Putting all of this together, Aldric began to suspect Elias had ulterior motives, but he decided not to confront him directly. The two of them had been playing their cordial father-son charade for years now, with everyone playing their roles perfectly. “An Alpha isn’t the issue, differentiation isn’t a problem either; what matters is compatibility,” Elias insisted, wearing that fatherly disappointment look. “Every time we discuss marriage, you deflect with your unformed state. I’ve indulged you, but you’re nearly twenty now, and I can’t let your father’s failures continue to harm you.” “I understand,” Aldric smoothly interjected when Elias paused for breath. Elias smiled, now satisfied, and continued, “Lord Roderick is around your age—only four years older. He just returned from studying abroad. He’s good-looking and charming, and as an Alpha, he’s one of the top-tier candidates among the Noble Trading Houses—coupled with his impressive background and wealth, he can ensure your future is secure.” “Father…” Aldric cut in, interrupting Elias, “You know I am more than capable of securing my own future.” In an instant, Elias’s demeanor shifted, his expression darkening significantly. He knew, how could he not? If he weren’t aware, why would he have sent Aldric into his industries? Aldric was the most dependable of his offspring, and he needn’t waste so much breath on a mere biological manifestation. What irked him most was the realization that he could have easily saved time without focusing on Aldric. He had countless children he could invest in, choosing beautiful partners for each, and it wouldn’t matter which Roderick he formed alliances with—he could even endow a significant portion of assets as dowries. Yet, he only had his sights on Aldric. Frustration mounted inside Elias, knowing Aldric was fully aware of his impatience, and was deliberately ignoring it because he possessed the ability to thrive independently. They could keep up the façade of a loving father and son indefinitely, but Aldric was reluctant, occasionally trying to tip the delicate balance they had maintained for years. Elias found it vexing, Aldric’s dismissive attitude felt like punching into a pillow—satisfying yet frustratingly ineffective. Still, there was nothing he could do about it. Taking a deep breath, he retreated a step. “How about this—give Lord Roderick a chance? He’s quite taken by you. Once you differentiate, if it turns out you don’t mesh well, we can part ways.” This concession was the limit of Elias’s patience. Aldric understood that, and replied distantly, “Alright. But if I find that I still can’t resonate with him, you can’t force me, Father.” “Fine.” Elias quickly agreed. He thought, this is fine; as long as Aldric doesn’t treat him with disdain, and can put on a face for the time being, he could endure. As for later, he would find ways to handle the situation. Aldric internally scoffed. He knew all too well what Elias was scheming, and noticed how he was holding back several of his tactics against him. The game they were playing was not only doable but rather amusing. Little did Elias know, two years later, Aldric still hadn’t differentiated, and Lord Roderick had yet to win him over. Elias couldn’t help but silently curse, “Useless pretender! It has taken two years to crack a ‘Brom Ironheart!’” --- When Aldric emerged from the Clerks' Room, the staff informed him that Lord Roderick awaited him outside to avoid disrupting their work. Aldric nodded at Quentin of the Marsh, exchanged a few words, and headed for the exclusive elevator down. Upon exiting, he found Lord Roderick standing next to a sleek black sports car, holding a bouquet of red roses that Quentin had brought. He leaned down, inhaling their fragrance, drawing the attention of passersby. Aldric hesitated in his steps. Honestly, if it weren’t for some lingering bias against Elias, he’d find Lord Roderick to be a worthy partner. Sensing Aldric's approach, Lord Roderick looked up and grinned widely, striding towards him. He offered to take the black coat in Aldric's hand and handed over the roses. “Aldric, happy birthday!” Aldric found himself momentarily lowering his guard and took the roses with a resigned expression. “You never change, do you? With your habit of picking me up every day, it feels a bit suffocating, don't you think? Aren't you worried about what others might say?” “It’s not every day you agree to give us a chance," Lord Roderick replied with a smile that was warm and slightly self-deprecating. "If anything, I’m grateful for this moment and I want to make it special.” His smile, gentle and sincere, conveyed a hint of reverence. He could act less humble and aloof, yet he chose to be genuine, still calling Aldric simply by his name.
Chapter 4
As Aldric the Bard was about to respond, Lord Roderick’s driver stepped forward with an urgent message. “Master Roderick, Lord Sebastian has returned, and Lady Isolde wants you to come home immediately.” Lord Roderick's expression shifted, revealing a hint of anxiety. “Why now…” “It's best if you head back,” Aldric said, visibly relieved. “Taking care of your family matters is more important right now.” “But…” Lord Roderick hesitated, his disappointment palpable. “Today is your birthday! I worked hard to prepare for this dinner; we shouldn’t miss it.” “Birthdays come every year,” Aldric pointed out. Roderick paused, then a smile broke across his face as he grasped Aldric's intention. “Then I’ll celebrate your birthday every year!” Aldric offered no rebuttal. “Listen, Aldric,” Roderick started, “it's not that I don’t want to take you to meet my uncle. He may not be that old, but he’s a very powerful man, and I just don’t want to frighten you.” “I’m not upset,” Aldric replied, a tinge of exasperation in his voice. “You really need to loosen up a bit.” “It’s such an important day,” Roderick pondered for a moment, his anxiety returning. “I’m heading back now—just promise me you won’t be mad or ignore me.” “It’s just dinner,” Aldric replied, a rare smile emerging. “I won’t be mad.” “I just don’t want to be shunned,” Roderick shrugged, then stepped aside to open the car door. “Let me take you home.” Aldric initially thought to suggest that Quentin of the Marsh could drive him back or that he could take his own car, but seeing the eager expression in Lord Roderick's eyes, he changed his mind. “Alright, I’ll take you up on that.” Roderick’s eagerness dimmed somewhat, but he reconciled that Aldric's smile was a sign of their relationship moving forward. Still, he felt a twinge of annoyance towards his Uncle Sebastian for returning at such a critical time. He initially saw tonight as an opportunity to make Aldric happy, a much more genuine happiness than he often experienced. --- It was no wonder Elias of the Library had grown weary of Lord Roderick. For the past two years, Roderick had relentlessly pursued Aldric the Bard. Perhaps Aldric was made from impregnable steel; no amount of high-ranking Alpha pheromones had been able to reach the unrefined Brom Ironheart. This persistent courtship was driving Elias of the Library to the brink of irritation. What’s more absurd was their talk of a marriage alliance. However, it was really just a discussion between Elias and Roderick, initiated at Lord Roderick's behest. Roderick had waxed poetic about falling for Aldric at first sight, claiming he desired a union of their families, hoping to forge a deep bond with Aldric. Roderick's earnestness, combined with his respectable lineage, somehow persuaded even the notoriously flirtatious Elias of the Library to consider the proposal seriously. Elias contemplated the absurdity of the arranged marriage. He recognized Roderick's esteemed lineage, immense wealth, and influence far outmatching that of House Aldric. Not to mention Lord Reginald, who showed little regard for such social standings, that weighed on Elias’s mind. Yet he saw opportunity; if this union bore fruit, House Aldric stood to gain immensely. As of now, he had not yet met the sole authority behind Roderick’s potent estate. Elias had once doubted the viability of this marriage. Had it not been for Roderick’s steadfast promise that he would eventually be the decision-maker in the Roderick Family affairs—a claim he backed up with evidence of his involvement in various family businesses—Elias might have dismissed it entirely. He pondered why Roderick exuded such confidence in a family that was still in its prime, wielding power without any heirs in sight. He chose not to dwell on this further, as family dynamics were often convoluted, especially in large households. He was still young and had plenty of time yet. Once, during a gathering, he’d overheard tales about the enigmatic Lord Reginald—a gender question mark, whose ruthless streak was legendary. The Roderick Family’s response to Lord Thorne’s death had been nothing short of merciless, cementing Reginald's formidable reputation. After enduring endless complaints, this peculiar courtship somehow continued to thrive. Two years into it, Lord Roderick remained the sole admirer, while Aldric held the role of an unwilling fiancée by mere designation. What fueled this long-standing affair was Roderick’s protective friend Elias, who, during this time, maintained a singular focus on Aldric, adhering strictly to the three stipulations Aldric had put forth—none of which Roderick had violated. At times, Aldric found himself pondering, perhaps Roderick was the mundane test he needed to endure in matters of affection, just one that seemed rather dull. He considered the situation benign, believing that monotony could equate to stability, while tumult often dragged one through a sea of heartbreak. He acknowledged that Lord Roderick was a good man. Perhaps his own reluctance stemmed from the fact that Elias had brought them together; he found himself scrutinizing everything Elias arranged—people, things, matters. He once thought Roderick might have been forced into this, but two years of consistent action told him otherwise. Roderick is genuinely intent on making this work, to some extent. Aldric didn’t wish to settle, yet Elias disregarded his preferences and openly touted the relationship they’d built. With Elias's constant advocacy, this prospective marriage persisted in a delicate equilibrium. For Lord Roderick, his most significant achievement over two years had been holding Aldric’s hand—though even Quentin of the Marsh found that rather pathetic.
Chapter 5
Aldric the Bard had a complicated relationship with Lord Roderick. He didn't exactly dislike him but wasn’t particularly fond of him either. It was a kind of mutual acknowledgment; as long as Elias of the Library kept his distance and Lord Roderick didn’t push him into any unwanted obligations, everything was fine. The truth was that they couldn’t control him. Aldric saw their relationship as inconsequential—a title that shielded him from trouble, one he didn’t care about. He figured he might as well give Lord Roderick a chance. Maybe his romantic journey was simply less dramatic than he expected. After all, it was Roderick who had been by his side for years. He had plenty of time on his hands and firmly believed that if fate led him to the right person, they would eventually be together, no matter how long that took. **Chapter 004: A Visitor at Midnight** When Aldric returned home, it was well past nine o'clock. He had only asked Lord Roderick to drop him off at the front gate. The butler, Xander the Strategist, had been waiting patiently there. Aldric didn’t invite Lord Roderick inside but did remind him to be cautious on his way back. They exchanged a few polite words before Roderick left. With Lady Rosamund calling him urgently, he hardly lingered after their goodbyes. The butler drove Aldric back to the main house. After all, this was the House of Aldric—its sprawling garden and elegant architecture made it impractical for him to walk back alone. Aldric lived a pampered life, after all. On the way, Xander informed him, “Sir, The Young Phantom has arrived.” “It’s been a while.” A genuine smile broke across Aldric's face. “His arrival in the dark suggests he wants to avoid being seen.” Understanding the implication, Aldric replied, “Just him in white?” The Young Phantom, known as Alaric Whitecloak, was the third son of the House of the Night. Like Aldric, Alaric came from another world; to Aldric's mind, they were both victims of the narrative spun by Sirius the Fateweaver. Alaric, born a small white dragon, had morphed into the form of a young man. Aldric often wondered how comfortable Alaric was with this new identity. He felt like comforting words were often on the tip of his tongue but would swallow them back down. On several occasions, Alaric appeared poised to speak about it, but Aldric couldn't help but encourage him, “Just laugh if you want to. We’re not strangers; there’s no need to hold back.” Aldric couldn't help but chuckle, albeit modestly. He craved to laugh more openly, yet he was also a Brom Ironheart—his transformation had never occurred. What if a twist of fate returned him to the Otherworld, only for a soothsayer to declare he too needed to morph into something weaker that relied on others? Alaric would then be right there to provide “comfort.” They had once been close friends in this new reality, fortunate enough to find themselves in the same wealthy circles of Noble Trading Houses. Alaric was the luckier one, coming from a family that seemed more stable than House of Aldric. His two older brothers doted on him, and Alaric led a particularly blissful life in this world. Over the last couple of years, they had been conducting business together, all kept under Elias of the Library's radar. Aldric took great care to avoid drawing attention during public gatherings. Of course, Aldric knew that Alaric was seeking him tonight for more than just a social visit; he had asked Alaric for help with something. Elias had become increasingly erratic over the years. His reputation was already tarnished, and now, he had maintained this dubious behavior for over a decade. His relentless obsession with women seemed to only grow bolder. Aldric felt like being thrust into the House of Aldric was the worst fate he’d faced; he’d forever struggle to explain his origins to others. Over time, his reputation in social circles dwindled. The women around him, from the queens to fresh-faced models, seemed to attract unwanted attention from Elias. Thanks to Elias, he found himself hesitating to introduce himself as Aldric, avoiding social functions at all costs. He would dodge them wherever possible. Through these years, Aldric’s appetites turned beyond local interests; buoyed by his financial resources, he’d even mingled with Bahama Isles’ president in illicit ventures. Worse yet, Elias, who pursued immortality with fanaticism, turned to bizarre methods like “online prayer” and digital rituals, throwing lavish funds into top-tier laboratories. His obsession with young blood and life-extending technologies had led to chaotic situations, with siblings mysteriously disappearing and ending up dead under bizarre circumstances. Xander the Strategist spoke up again, “Grandfather Septimus and Bennett Eight have returned as well.” In some twisted sense, Elias had achieved his goal of raising a wild and diverse family, for among his many children, Aldric was the only one bold enough to face him—enacting schemes and subterfuge. Most notably, Aldric remained the only one Elias hesitated to drag off for blood exchanges. As they arrived at the entrance, Aldric spotted Alaric reclined comfortably in the Antechamber, savoring a cup of tea, seemingly undisturbed by the world. His two brothers were nowhere to be found. Turning to Xander, Aldric inquired, “What about Serena Nightingale and Balthazar Bellringer?” “They’re feeling weak. They’ve been settled in the Cellar for rest,” Xander informed. Aldric refrained from further questioning. He had asked Alaric to facilitate Serena and Balthazar's exit from the Ironbound Laboratory, an opportunity only afforded to those who had business connections with Elias of the Library, particularly the House of the Night. Each time Elias needed a blood transfusion, he indulged recklessly, believing his closest blood relatives would best strengthen his frail body. Aldric couldn’t help but feel defeated by fate, but he persevered for the sake of those who had once been intertwined in such a twisted narrative.
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