He continued to lounge in the kitchen. He laid his head down on the table, trying to catch a nap. He could feel his eyes beginning to burn from the lack of sleep. He failed to sleep however. His busy mind instead conjuring up scenarios in his head. He began to wonder if all the other vampires were like the one he faced. How much stronger than that did they get? He thought back to the rapier slicing him like he was about to be thrown on a grill. He shuddered. He began to wonder if they sucked at fist fighting. Once the blades were on the ground, Ilyas overpowered him easily. It made sense to him. Afterall, martial art techniques wouldn’t be nearly as advanced with Darkdwellers. A knock came at the door. Aren’t they early? He opened it half expecting to see armor. He cracked a smile at the tall figure staring down at him. His eyes were black, and had the gaze of a predator. 

 “Welcome home, I suppose.” 

 Karim nodded in silence, his black jacket tailing him as he walked in. “It’s been a while, brother.” He looked Ilyas up and down. “You’ve grown.” 

 Ilyas smiled. “You’re just shrinking. You should see kaleel.” 

 “I’m sure he’s quite tall.” 

 “Taller than me.” 

 Ilyas thought he saw a smirk show, but he couldn't even think of an instance where Karim smiled. Karims parted hair fell freely at the sides of his face. “Erza tells me you fought a vampire.” 

 Ilyas took a deep breath, telling him how the altercation began and went down. 

 His expression remained unchanged. “I see. Yet you survived. There was a squad of ours that had gone to Ardonia to do recon. We haven’t heard back from them, and are planning a rescue team.” 

 He raised his brows. “Okay?” 

 “You’re a mercenary now, right?” Ilyas winced at the way he said it. “The Ashen Sancti look to hire you. The general of the rescue team has taken an interest in you, and has requested you to join him.” 

 “Huh?” he began to scratch his head. “Me? You want to hire me?” 

 “Yes. General Taldris found the circumstances strange after I had reported to the council. After I told him about you, he was eager to request your services. The Ashen Sancti will pay you out, one hundred and fifty thousand for the initial three days, and fifty thousand every second day spent in Ardonia.” 

“Aww look at you, bragging about me” Ilyas began to laugh. “I accept. But then you need to up the security here.” 

 “They will be moved to the capital, within the palace.” 

 Ilyas blinked in confusion. “Seriously? The royal palace?”

 “The Ashen Sancti are more than just soldiers, and at my level it is easy to get royal favors.” 

 “Well aren’t you moving up in life.” 

 “I take it you have no reason to refuse? Your skills outshine the warnings of our enemies," Karim stated, leaning close as he folded his arms across the worn oak table in the low-lit living room. "General Aeon and the council have all been speaking your name. Killing a vampire is no small feat. It is time you fully step into your coming legacy. Just like Erza and dad also did."

Ilyas shifted in his seat, fingers drumming softly on the table. "Legacy? I'm just trying to keep our family fed and the house in order, Karim. What exactly are you asking me?"

Karim's gaze sharpened, steady and resolute. "I ask you to accept my own proposal. To become one of the Watchers formally. To command a squad and stand by our side."

"I will join the rescue team," Ilyas replied, brushing a stray strand from his forehead. "Only because you asked, and this whole thing is making me worried for the others. But I'm not going to be a puppet. I'm a mercenary through and through, not some obedient Watcher on parade."

"I see. General Taldris will be glad to hear that. I am disappointed, it seems these past three years have taught you nothing," Karim tilted his chin up, tapping his finger on the weathered oak. 

Ilyas snaped, brow furrowing as his eyes locked on his older brother. "I won't sacrifice what I am for a title handed down just so I can fit some family tradition."

"Tradition isn't a shackle, Ilyas—it's the standard that separates us from those who roam without purpose," Karim retorted sharply. "Our father built a legacy of honor and sacrifice. You're expected to stand up and carry that burden."

"I carry burdens my own way," Ilyas fired back, voice low but resolute as he shifted his stance. "I've fought hard for every scar I wear and every victory I claim."

"Is that what you think?" Karim challenged, leaning forward so intensely that his eyes almost pierced through the dim light of the room. "Your exploits on the field aren't just for you. Every dark night you've endured, every enemy you've slain, they owe allegiance to the legacy you're meant to continue."

"Allegiance?" Ilyas scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. "I earned my life by my own rules, not by some rigid code imposed by people who'd rather see me bend than rise. I'm not a puppet for the Watchers; I'm a mercenary who fights his battles head-on."

Karim's voice softens just enough that a hint of pain slips in. "You're letting your defiance blind you. Our family's honor shouldn't be used as ammunition in your rebellion. You have potential beyond this solitary path."

"Potential?" Ilyas arches an eyebrow, his tone biting. "You speak of potential like it's some prize to be won in a council meeting. I’m making full use of my potential.” He cracked his neck to the side. “Every single damn monster that your guards haven't caught, I dealt with. I've seen what 'honor' does to men who think only of titles. It crushes them, leaves them empty, enslaved by expectation."

"Don’t twist my words," Karim insisted, keeping his tone measured yet forceful. "Every great leader has wrestled with doubt. I ask you to channel that fire instead of letting it burn your soul. The world, in all its darkness, needs the strength that you can provide if you choose unity."

"I choose freedom," Ilyas declared, his voice rising with the passion of a hundred battles fought alone. I’ve gotten this far without folding, I won’t start now. "I'm not meant to be comforted by the pat on the back of tradition. I fight to survive—on my terms, not on someone else's script."

Karim's eyes flashed with equal parts exasperation and resolve. "Survival without purpose is mere drifting, Ilyas. Our father didn't plan for us to wander like lost souls. I wish that you’d see the necessity of belonging, of being more than just a solitary mercenary." His brother looked away for a brief moment.

"I am on my own path," Ilyas spat, leaning back and throwing his arms up. "If carrying his legacy means disregarding everything I stand for, then I refuse to play that part. You’re already in it anyway."

A tense silence stretched between them, filled only by the steady ticking of the room's old clock. His older brother gazes at him like a hawk. He didn’t blink once. Finally, Karim's voice softened. "Very well. I’ll inform them that you accepted, we will sign the contract at the base. Maybe this is why Taldris wishes to have you join him. You two are certainly the same."

 “Then I’ll have no issues under his command,” Ilyas offered a wry smile. "Agreed. Let’s keep it to strictly business then."

They paused to take in the weight of their exchange. Despite their constant disagreements, both knew that unity in purpose would guide them through the hardships ahead. And so they prepared for the coming challenges, determined that their combined strength would triumph, even when they disagreed at every little thing.